It is a Truth Universally Acknowledged:


That a single post of RAWR and kickass
will, inevitably, cause the Universe to kick you in the face.

Seriously, ‘Verse.
You must have a tiny penis for all of this overcompensating.

Last Week’s Workout and:


Totally lost the teeny blue Post-it that had this one
(and yes, I write out all our CF workouts on blue Post-its.
Do not question the blue Post-it!!!):


Run 100m
10 burpees
10 pushups
10 mountain climbers (each leg)
10 v-ups
10 squats

Finished with pull-ups (still struggling with the fourth pull-up, ARGH).


I’m in the middle of creating my costume for Faire this year–
it’s a lot more complicated than my original costume,
by far and away–
my original costume is suitable for peasant class,
or for lower merchant class.

The bodice is simple, front-lacing,
the chemise and partlet are not starched or overly frilled,
and I have two skirts in a five-gore pattern with a standard waistband.
I wear a pair of Birkenstock mules in a light suede with this outfit,
and they work swimmingly.


See? Tres simple. And yes, it looks like I don't have feet.


This year,
I’m working with a FAHbulous group of folks
who dress as wanna-be aristocratic Frenchies,
and go around mocking people in zer Frahnch Accsahnts.

my outfit needs a leetle more *oomph*,
and a leetle more fashionyfashion.

So I’m making things.

Like chopines.




This wonderful lady has given me brilliant ideas
on constructing said chopines,
and I ordered two sets of yoga blocks today.

I’m actually stupid excited to start creating those,
and I think I’ll be able to make something ridiculous and awesome.


I also ordered a wig:

I love the Renaissance.


I’m a tad anxious about that wig,
since I couldn’t find out what type of fiber was used for it,
and wigs, generally, are not returnable items.

I’m pretty damn good at making cheap shit look great,
so I’m trusting in my gerry-rigging skills if the wig is more *meh* than *OMG*.


I am *also* making a headpiece,
which will (hopefully) look something like hers:


My current plan is to draft the pattern on paper,
trace it onto balsa wood,
cut the pieces out, attach them together with…brads?

Paint with something pearlescent-y?

Something pretty, at any rate,
then attach it to the wig with combs and pins.


I have a little more than a month before Faire opens.

I can totally get all this done.



Just Stopping By:


Whoa, hey!


You are awesome.
And I am talkative.



you know,
coordinate a wedding.

Katie is showing us her muscles. Grr. Kyle is tewtally impressed.

And We Lived to Tell the Tale:


After heroically fighting through horrible hordes of traffic,
I made it to the Beverly Center in Los Angeles for some serious Fashion Geeking
with Roommate Jessie and (former) Roommate Tamara.


Almost every store at the Center was open until 11pm;
there were free drinks and treats,
and all SORTS of amazing sales.

I scored a 40% coupon from Steve Madden–
which I elected to wait until tomorrow to use,
since the store last night was elbow-deep in women
staggering around with one right foot in a shoe.

The event planners cordoned off a huge section of plaza
for a runway show–I caught the last couple of minutes,
but only in passing.

They were very smart to elevate the runway,
since it was standing room only.

Jessie had to leave early,
so La Tamara and I hit Melrose Avenue
pretty much *just* to see Alexander McQueen.

And it was glorious.

I think McQueen will always be my favorite designer.
His style was so fresh, innovative,
his choice of fabrics perfect.
I love the unique way he combined structural edges
and soft, flowing fabric.
His tailoring was *impeccable*.

And I really wanted those sunglasses.


(I think Tam and I managed to get hit on by the only two straight men in Hollywood that night.)

(We still got it, baby.)



Next year?

We will hit Rodeo, and work our way back towards the Beverly.
There was not enough time to see everything,
to take it all in.

I wish this were a couple of nights in a row!



I can’t believe I managed to walk around for three straight hours
in five inch heels.

It was totally worth it, kittens.

O Holy Grail of Coffee!


I beseeched thee,
and thou did’st answer me.

I thank thee for thy energy.

…But could we dial it down a bit?
‘Coz I’m fighting a serious urge to do backflips all over the office.

And I can’t do backflips.

Especially not in a skirt.

And heels.



Food? Shoes?


My body has one of two primary reactions when it gets depressed:

1) It wants to eat everything in the world
(mostly gummi bears),

2) It wants to buy shoes.

The truly terrible issue at hand is that July has been hella’spensive,
and consequently, I can’t really justify the shopping.

I also managed to lose a teensy bit of weight,
and I don’t want to jeopardize that by going on a calorie binge.
(No Sense of Proportion Girl, at your service)

what do YOU do to fight the Black Dog
when money is tight and you don’t want your belt to do the same?


Help me out, kids,
‘coz this shit is looking reaaaally appealing right now:




I love everything about this shoe. ......I might make out with it.




Got to try these on. Almost "accidentally" walked out with them. Oopsie.


Shop 'till you drop into a bag of overpriced shiny pretty things made by a blue-haired gay guy. Because that will make everything better.

Long, Long, Long Island:

I may or may not have had a Long Island Iced Tea
with Elderflower Liquere…Liquor?…Lickker?

in it.

It was really good.

…I can’t feel my knees.


Wordpress suggests "The Mona Lisa" as the text for this image. I'll go with that.

Also, corgi:


Good girl, distract everyone from Mommy's Tikki Bar hair.

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