Jul. 25th, 2009

auraesque: Mad Men (Default)
Here we go. It's 9:00 and I am ready to go. For the next 24 hours my guest
bloggers and I will be blogging every half hour to support RAINN in the
2009 Blogathon. Let's see how long we can keep this up. :) I am very
excited about the guest bloggers this afternoon, but the true test will
be when I get home from work tonight to 12 more hours of blogging. I made
a batch of iced coffee this morning. It's cold brewing now.

I also wanted to use this first post to shine the spotlight on the other
bloggers for RAINN, SAFER and BARCC this year. If you have a minute, pop
over and root them on, too. The list of bloggers (there is over 25 of
them!) is under the cut.

This is also the last, last call for guest bloggers. I think I will be
able to make a couple of posts from my phone, but I will have to be a
ninja spy about it. :)

See the List )

You can see the full list of bloggers here.
auraesque: Mad Men (Default)
I am sure a lot of the people on my f-list caught the Rachel reference in my last entry. If not, shame on you. ;) I figured I should start off the Things I Like posts with one of the first things that brought me online: Animorphs.

I remember when I first discovered Animorphs in fifth grade. I was
reading my sister's Nickelodeon Magazine when I came across an excerpt
of the first chapter of The Invasion. I was hooked. I wanted to
read more, and I begged, begged my mom to get me the first book at the
next scholastic book fair. From that point on, I waited for new books to
come out every-other-month with religious ferver.

Tobias was my favorite character at first, but I loved Erek King and
Jara Hamee, too. It was around book 14 or so that I first ventured
online to see what else I could learn about the series, find spoilers
and read more from K.A.Applegate. I even designed my own characters,
combining a love for dolphins with an exciting plot premise involving an
alien princess. I researched it extensively and created an entire
outline, complete with illustrations. It. Was. Awesome.

And then I discovered there was a whole world of fans online. As a nerdy
little 14 year old, I became a regular at MORPHZ and and met other
fans. In fact, as corny as it is, a group of them turned into life-long

So there it is. I guess, in a way, it's because of Animorphs that I even
discovered how valuable a tool the internet is. Also, if I were an
animorph, my battle morph would totally be a wolf.

What would yours be?
auraesque: Mad Men (Default)
I started playing World of Warcraft sometime in 2006 after my sister had been playing for about a year. At the time, I didn't quite get the appeal--years before I had tried Ultima Online and hated it. I tried again after seeing the neat stuff my sister was doing with her character, a hunter (Thatrous on Galakrond). She let me create a character on her account, and Persea was born.

If you haven't noticed by now, I have a thing for Greek mythology, and Persea comes from Persephone. (My other characters are Cerebus, Dionisis, Ceresia and Prosperine [my Death Knight!]). I thought about being a Blood Elf, but from what I saw everyone and their mother was either a Blood Elf or a Night Elf. No one was playing trolls, especially not female trolls, and especially-especially not female warrior trolls, so that's what I went with. Plus, trolls are really tall, and so my character towers over the puny humans. It's kinda awesome.

I played intermittently for a year or so, but it wasn't until my senior year of college that I really started to play and level my character. I joined a guild and found that that a lot of the players on my server (Zul'jin) were around my age. In fact, there were a lot of 20- to 24-year-old chicks playing. I don't socialize too much in-game, but I do think it is so neat how far technology has come that we have this epic (really!) gaming platform where people can play with kids from around the world. So yeah, neat.

I know a few of my friends are on WoW on different servers. What do you like best about the game?
auraesque: Mad Men (Default)
I mentioned in my last post my love of Greek Mythology, and while most
of my regular readers know I have a thing for myths, legends and fairy
tales, I realized that anyone new probably doesn't.

When I was a kid, my parents would always read to me and my sister
before bed, and as a result I started to read a lot on my own. Some of
my first books were massive collections and anthologies of fairy tales
and Greek myths--the unedited sort, too. I was reading Grimm, Hans
Christian Anderson, Charles Perrault and many more out of aged books
from my grandparent's bookshelves. In French class, I loved reading the
original Perrault versions, and I was ecstatic when my classmates and I
had the opportunity to reenact Greek myths for our final project in English.

Later, I was pleased to learn that fairy tales and myths have a
secondary purpose: they are teaching tools. I thought it was beyond cool
that our pre-literate society had developed storytelling to teach
subsequent generations about history, society and behavior. In college,
then, my love of these stories evolved into a love of language and
communication and all that entails. I continue to read and explore new
legends--in fact, right now I am exploring Native American oral
tradition. I think it is so cool how these stories developed and what
they mean for our societal development and our future. It's very cool to
think about.
auraesque: Mad Men (Default)
Before I head off to work, I want to introduce my wonderful guest
bloggers. These ladies have stepped up to help me meet the deadlines for
the blogathon, and I am proud to call them friends. If you haven't
already, definitely go check out their blogs. Please give them a warm
welcome and copious amounts of less-than-three.

Read more... )
auraesque: Mad Men (Default)
Hello livejournal world! I'm Erin, aka [livejournal.com profile] givesmevoice, and
this is my first of two guest blogging appearances.

I've been trying to think about what I should blog about. I realized
that I [half jokingly] told [livejournal.com profile] auraesque I would blog about
Broadway, so I guess I really should.

I love Broadway. it's become my numero uno fandom, surpassing even
Harry Potter. it's moved beyond just entertainment and begun crossing
over to the world of academic understanding and appreciation for me.
I've actually gotten into reading criticism and talking with my
friends and analyzing shows and songs and characters. quite nerdy,

But I guess I really don't want to bore you with all of that. So I'll
talk about things I love about Broadway.

1) I love musicals. yes, I even love musicals where the songs don't
progress the plot.
2) I really love Stephen Sondheim. recognize!
3) Patti LuPone.
4) I believe it was Bebe Neuwirth who said that when you have to
express things and have run out of words, you sing, and when your
feeling surpasses singing, you dance. I love this.
5) I love the feeling of sitting in a dark, crowded theatre with a
thousand other people, waiting for that curtain to come up and that
overture to start. I feel like it can become almost religious, the
collective experience of ecstasy.

I...guess that's it. haha, I should've planned for a better guest
appearance. maybe I'll have something better to say at 2:30!

auraesque: Mad Men (Default)
Hello! This is [livejournal.com profile] penchaft, and I live in Australia. My time
zone is +8 GMT

Time zones are kinda a necessity, but they can be really annoying.
First of all, there's the whole working out time differences between
you and people on other continents, and god help you if there's
daylight savings anywhere. Maths is really hard, you guys!

And then there's the annoying stuff that specifically comes from being
in one of the + time zones. It's already noon, here, by the time
midnight rolls around in America, and it's in the evening when
American morning rush hour begins. So I tend to miss out things. I
don't just mean general chatting or LJ conversations or the drama that
usually occurs when I'm asleep, but special days.

Did you see LJ's April Fool's Day thing this year? Quite a few people
were complaining that it went up before the first of April (oh man,
don't get me started on how people have started using the "April
first" format here, it bugs me so much), but I was happy because this
was the first AFD in years that I had seen before the second of
. Then there's the special blogging days, like Blog Like It's
The End of the World or the Rabbithole day or any of the others -- if
I don't hear about them in advance, I don't find out about them until
the day after, when it's too late. :(

On the other hand, it's quite fun to stay in on New Year's Eve and
then, when it hits midnight, say hello to my European and American
friends from the fuuuutuuuuure.

I am just as boring as this blog post, hooray! :p

Snake Hips

Jul. 25th, 2009 01:06 pm
auraesque: Mad Men (Default)

Chelsea breaks into a smile when I
tie my red coin scarf around her hips. She tentatively touches the
coins, each stamped with “God is great” in Arabic, and twists her hips
from side to side. She looks relaxed and grounded, but when she turns
to the mirror and looks at her reflection, she sees herself standing
awkwardly hunched over, feet splayed, and she freezes. What step comes
next? She is convinced she will make a wrong move and break the

I recognize myself in her static, uncertain lines. I do a quick spin,
small hip circle and broken body wave and end in a shimmy. I invite
her to dance with me. Her uncertain half-starts soon form full-bodied,
joyful shimmies that her class the hardwood floor at a glide with me.
The way she holds herself, the structure to her limbs and torso breaks
down into finer angles. Her arms look less like scarecrow and more
like snake and her belly, one she was uncertain about showing,
vibrates as rapidly as the rest of her.

I tell her she needs no special shoes, not special costumes, and her
hair is best not pulled back. Belly dance is the only dance in the
world that requires so little, but demands so much control to do well.
There are no distractions, no pre-formulated choreography, just her
and a drumbeat that pulls straight through her belly. She doesn’t know
the weight she dances with in her hips, but she doesn’t need to to
dance with joy.

In time, she will learn about the history of belly dance, how it is
painted onto the walls of the Pyramids of Giza, becomes the embodiment
of the Oriental Other, grew from roots in ritual dance in birth and
temple worship, how it was completely torn apart and rebuilt in the
20th century into a Hollywood version of its former self, and how a
dancer today can define herself as part of a tribe of women that is
uniquely American.

The desire for self-discovery and redefinition, something I had wanted
as a student in high school, but I hadn’t known that it would be this
dance that would become my grounding, my secret, my obsession, since.
Since it is best to never dance alone I love to share it with others.
What belly dance brings out of them is always intriguing to watch.
When Bonnie tries on Isis wings for the first time, she sways in front
of the mirror, humming. I ask how they feel. “Sorry, what? I’m singing
in my head,” she laughs.

This dance is addictive; once pulled into the world of bright, flashy
costumes and learning to execute impossible hip moves, it’s almost
impossible to leave its enchantments behind. It begins to affect my
outward life too. I count off everything in eighths and wonder what I
fun I could have with a cane down a busy section of Fifth Avenue. I
unabashedly dance in the empty G Train cars in heels at 3 AM after a
midnight movie. I also encounter people who never saw me as a dancer
before. My friend Zoraida dragged her boyfriend with her to a
performance in Alphabet City. Afterwards, he asked why I look so
familiar. Half an hour later of musing he stood up and shouted, “Oh my
god! You were my chairperson for that Model UN debate with my
professor!” He sat back down again and his mouth quirked. “You really
know how to cut loose.” What he doesn’t see is all the hard work that
happens before the performance.

I have become quite intimate with fishnet, flash tape, learning how to
wrap and unwrap myself in silk without tripping over it, how easily
kohl eyeliner smudges, and how quickly you lose your sense of
propriety when you take off your sweat-soaked bra in front of the wait
staff during a two-minute costume change, how you can clock somebody
on the head with your Isis wing and recover quickly enough for no one
else to notice. Screaming at your fellow dance partner to pull the
veil from your waist for you, because your hands are otherwise engaged
in a very loud club, finding out you brought no skirt, but a veil
instead and have to jury-rig a costume bottom on the spot, and waking
up with teal rimming your eyes and cheeks. Knowing a dancer so well
you can mirror her completely between crowds in suits and fanny packs
rushing by, lazily turning at the same moment, moving hips, chest,
arms, head, and feet in unison, all with a simple knowing smile a
flick of a wrist. These are just some of the many moments that inhabit
a dancer’s life.

I am a belly dancer. I enjoy it considerably to see people react to
that label, which carries all sorts of connotations with them, few of
which are actually wrong. With this dance, I can educate people about
the history of a thousand cultures from whence it came, all the ways
that dance and pleasure and morality interplay, not just in the Middle
East, but elsewhere. For many belly dancers, belly dance is a source
of power and a source for understanding one’s own body and
capabilities for seduction, humor, wit, and improvisation, and many an
antidote to the conservative current for women to suppress their
sexual identity and physical prowess, but my motivations are simpler
than that.

Belly dance is play, a pure unadulterated form for dancer and viewer
to enjoy themselves, a notion people in this rat race in life forget
as being important. It gives me, as a young woman, space to breathe
and move in a space I carve out for people I choose to perform for and
enlighten about an intensely personal side of myself that doesn’t get
expressed through my writing. You can’t write out play or joy in the
way you can dance it. Even performances, which require hard work to
execute, are one part memorization, two parts play, and one part
glitter. I always enjoy performing; sometimes we must seem like total
aliens from another universe to those who come see us dance.

A belly dancer does not hold herself or act like just any woman—she is
not the hyper-sexualized embodiment of the exotic and mysterious
either, because that would just perpetuate the popular myth of what a
dancer is, but rather, a dancer wields power over her audience in ways
far removed from the way a woman can use power in day-to-day life.

To appreciate a dancer, you must suspend your disbelief when she
balances a flaming candelabra on her head or dances barefoot on two
wineglasses, when she coils a veil around your head and wraps a turban
with two quick motions of her hands. She will flirt with you, raise an
eyebrow at you as she sweeps by you, or carry on a conversation with
you when she leaning over your dinner plate backwards and shimmying.
She will instinctively seek out the most reluctant man or woman in the
audience, and get them to dance, to pump up a leg up and down to the
music in an approximation of a hip drop. When she does three
connectively deeper back bends until her hair is touching the floor,
you’ll marvel as her core strength, but the best belly dancer won’t
exude flashy moves, she will display incredible control over the dums
and teks of the drum. She may be panting with exertion, but the
hundreds of tiny flicks, adjustments, and downbeats with her hips and
abdomen and fingers and shoulders prove her complete mastery over an
art form that writhes in energy and heat.

A belly dancer’s stance is alien to the average woman. A belly dancer
has both feet squared beneath her shoulders, is fleet of foot and
quick to change direction. A belly dancer who shimmies, slides, and
hops across a floor can only do those things barefoot. A dancer’s
chest is lifted. How many women do you know carry their
self-confidence between their shoulder blades? A good dancer glistens
through her veil entrance, her high-spirited choreography, within her
drum solo, until she drops to the floor in her finale. In some places
in the Middle East, you can stick bills to a dancer’s forehead for
certain arduous numbers; if she is doing the dance correctly, the
sweat will keep it there.

The power of a dancer lies in her ability to entrance. Admittedly,
there have been moments where I have considered how much I can mess
with a person’s perceptions if I danced for them. I’ve wanted to
entrance people and carry them away on my words, since middle school
but I have stories to tell through my hips and hands and feet as well,
and that requires a certain awareness of body and mind one can only
gain as an adult. But, I’m careful whom I share my secret with. Tell
someone you’re a writer and they pity you. Tell someone you’re a belly
dancer, and you’re met with a host of judgements. But I’m glad I’m a
member of a community of dancers, who may look no different than the
average woman on the street but we share a common way of movement—for
those who pay attention, we walk with a lower center of gravity than

For the first time dancer, I don’t overload her with all the petty
details about the fine lines of understanding, history, cultural
appropriation, and misunderstanding that transverse our art form. I
don’t tell her about the judgements she will encounter or how
expensive the costumes are. I do tell her this:

Always dip your fingers in honey-laced henna in celebration, carefully
untangle the glass beads from the lining of your bedlah, smudge the
kohl on your eyelids with your ring finger, when in doubt, shimmy, as
it always looks impress, and cradle your waist with both hands. You
have the most beautiful hips in the world.


Jul. 25th, 2009 01:38 pm
auraesque: Mad Men (Default)
This is [livejournal.com profile] buhfly. :)

I think I missed my time! :( I was supposed to post at 12:30 and I
got confused and thought it was two hours difference between my time
(Arizona, which doesn't have DST and is always the same time) and EST.
I'm sorry!

Here is a post, anyway.

Today, I took my puppy, Attila, to the vet this morning. He is a
5-month-old chihuahua-toy fox terrier mix that I got from the pound in
May. He weighs 4.8 pounds now! Even though one of my aunts has bred
teacup chihuahuas and toy fox terriers for about half my life, I am
still amazed at how small he is. He's not a teacup, but he's less
than a foot long and he can sit on my shoulder. My cats are bigger
than he is. It's scary sometimes.

My mother is always fretting about him and she asked me to always use
a carrier for him when he goes in the car, just in case I'm in an
accident. The indignity is intolerable for Attila, but I'd rather him
be safe than proud. I do take him out and let him walk into the vet
on the leash, at least. The humiliation of letting other dogs see him
in what amounts to a cat carrier could not be borne.

Today he went for his rabies vax. When I first got him, he was too
young to get it, and when I took him the last time, they gave him
Bordetella and wanted to wait on the rabies. I have a ferret, as
well, and kennel cough has been known to kill them, so I was okay with
that. He's too small for all the vaccinations at once.

I brought him in and he was happy to see the receptionist. He was
happy to see the vet tech. He sat on the table in the room with me
and whined whenever someone went past the door without coming in. He
was SO HAPPY to be there and see people and omg attention

He was less happy when they took his temperature and refused a treat,
but he quickly forgave the tech. Which was fortunate because she had
to take him into the back for his vax, where the vet was.

From inside the room, through two doors, I heard him cry when they
stuck him. :( He was very unhappy. I heard him cry again when the
vax started moving through his bloodstream. I know from experience
that he was probably wild to scratch or bite at the spot.

The very nice tech brought him back in and set him on the table and he
went to me...then climbed up on my shoulder in an attempt to get away
from her. D:

And so ends the slightly sad story of Attila At The Vet. He's home
and pouted out in the living room. It will take a treat for him to
forgive me, but by tonight he will be sleeping with me in a tiny ball
under my covers. Aww, puppies.

The end.

auraesque: Mad Men (Default)

*bows* Thank you for listening to all my belly dance ramblings!


auraesque: Mad Men (Default)
Hi everyone! It's Erin again. I've been thinking a little more about
what to write for this post, so hopefully it's good!

my wonderful friend [livejournal.com profile] dangerousjade pointed me in the
direction of tvtropes.org the other day. basically it covers every
plot device that could be used in any form of entertainment. but it
gives you wikiitis, so you click through every link and wind up on an
article completely unrelated to the one at which you started.

last night, I was reading some Harry Potter theories (called Epileptic
Trees on the website). apparently I had missed the one that said that
Harry had made the entire wizarding world up as a coping mechanism to
deal with the Dursleys and their abuse.

ABUH! this is the best theory ever. and it works, since I had
previously been reading the Tommy Westphall trope.

do you know about Tommy Westphall? have you ever watched St.
Elsewhere? (or, like me, just learned about Tommy Westphall from I
Love the 80s on vh1?)

the entirety of the series St. Elsewhere is revealed to have taken
place in the mind of a boy with autism. BUT pop culture gurus have
pointed out that because of St. Elsewhere's links to other shows, a
huge fraction of shows in TV history were all in the mind of Tommy
. this
links together 282 shows. MIND BOGGLING.

see what late night internetting can do?

auraesque: Mad Men (Default)
I am posting from my iPod. Neat! I hope you are enjoying your guest bloggers.
auraesque: Mad Men (Default)
“Do you smell smoke?”  Maggie finished filling her coffee cup and
sniffed again.  “Did someone leave the coffeemaker on overnight?”

“I don’t smell anything,” Patrick said.  He took the coffeepot from
her hand and filled his own cup.  “But that doesn’t mean much.  Maybe
Jan burned her toast again.”

Maggie shrugged and headed back to her desk, the smell of something
foul and burnt still stuck to the inside of her nostrils.  Great,
she’d probably be smelling it all day.  Too bad there wasn’t a way to
scrub out her nostrils.  With a sigh she set her coffee cup on her
desk and flipped on the computer.  The usual deluge of e-mails flooded
into her inbox, and she took a fortifying sip of coffee before she
delved into them.  Most where easily sorted into existing folders for
payment, re-routing, tech support, or follow-up, but there were always
the handful that needed special attention because they were from the
higher-ups.  The spam she set aside for later in the day when she’d
need a laugh.  After a morning of dealing with disgruntled customers,
pissed-off suppliers, and cranky co-workers, broken-English spam
pushing adult products was hilarious.  Or maybe it was just that she’d
had so much coffee by that point in the day that her neurons were
fried.  Either way, it was what kept her going, day after day after

She worked solidly through the morning, barely making a dent in the
correspondence.  Just as she got close to finishing, the wonderful
company server would dump another load in her inbox.  And it was a
load.  Questions that had been asked and answered a dozen times.
Follow-ups to follow-ups by impatient people with nothing better to
do.  Screwed-up invoices.  The occasional misrouted proposition, filed
away later in case she ever needed it for blackmail.  Finally, near
lunchtime, she settled in to read some spam.

Just after leaning how she could enlarge an organ she didn’t possess,
the fire alarms went off.  As she gathered up her purse and trudged
past the kitchen, a familiar odor caught her attention.  It was the
burnt smell that had lingered that morning.  She grabbed Patrick’s arm
as she caught up with him.

“Do you smell it now?”

“Uh, yeah.  Virginia nearly caught her tuna noodle casserole on fire
in the microwave.  Reckon there must have been a short, the microwave
is toast.  So to speak.”  He flapped his hand ineffectually against
the rolling cloud of black smoke flowing out of the kitchen door.  “It
must have started acting up yesterday, no wonder you smelled something
this morning.  Someone must have fried something last night.”

He wandered off to chat with the boys from IT, and Maggie wandered
over to a bench to sit down.  The microwave had been fine last night,
she’d used it to cook an early dinner, and she’d been the last one out
of the office.  Tuesdays were her day to stay until six, and the place
had been well and truly deserted when she left.

And what about last week, when she swore she’d been catching a whiff
of roses all morning, then Sharon’s husband had brought a huge bouquet
in at lunch?  And this weekend when she’d smelled oil long before the
bus had sprung the leak?  Was it possible?

“No,” she whispered.  “That’s just… stupid.”  She shook her head.
Like every girl, she’d dreamed of a superpower since she’d first laid
hands on a comic book.  Flying was high on her list until she hit high
school, then she, like most teenage girls, wished for invisibility.
And seeing the future wouldn’t be too shabby.  But smelling the
future?  What the hell good was that going to do?

auraesque: Mad Men (Default)
I am borrowing wifi from the pizza place. Must get back to work now!
auraesque: Mad Men (Default)

A teenage girl lies on the ground, curled on her side with one leg
bent and raised. A creature with huge red eyes and shoulders wider
than a mutant football player's looms threateningly over her. He
smacks his fist to his palm in reply, inching closer to the small
figure on the ground.

"GO… AWAY… NOW!" she bellows. Her raised knee jerks slightly further
back towards her ear.

He laughs, backing up for just a moment, and then suddenly lunges forward.

What happens now?IMPACT: The self-defense course that will change your life )
auraesque: Mad Men (Default)
Hi all! This is Lindsay.

So, as it turns out, I was supposed to blog about two hours ago. The
reason I did not is because I was quite passed out. Not, like, on my
face in the street, just, in my bed. Quite unconscious.

The reason why I was unconscious at 1:30 in the afternoon is because I
was feeling pretty...no, I guess monumentally would be the right word,
as in looking at the computer screen made me want to puke...nauseous.
There are two reasons why I was feeling that way. One is
exciting; the other is not. Well no, that's not true, they're both
exciting in their own way, but one is definitely more, ah, glamorous.
If you want to call it that.

Ok, I'll quit being cryptic. The first, less glamorous reason I was
feeling nauseous is that I am in the process of going off a certain
medication for anxiety. I was on a significantly tiny dose (2mg) and
so my doctor just sort of told me to go off cold turkey. This, as it
turns out, was not a great idea. I started feeling sick yesterday,
two days without the medication. Called my doctor; left a message. I
went out anyway (ohhhh yes, did I go out), and my physical state
fluctuated between feeling great and feeling like utter crapzorz. At
some point, my doctor called me back and told me to take the
medication I'm going off of every other day for a week...but I was
already out for the night and so wasn't able to take a pill right
then. As it turns out, I wasn't able to take said pill until...about
1:00pm today, when I got home. Whoops.

I'll sidetrack a little bit to explain why I'm going off this
medication. Since I've been on it, I've gained about 40 lbs, in a
little over a year. We're not sure, but the correlation is there: it
may have been causing me to gain massive amounts of weight. So
hopefully, now that I am going off of it, I will stop gaining
weight--and I'll be able to start losing it, with the new
routine I intend to implement once I move into my new apartment in a
week and my life returns to some semblance of routine. Plan includes
joining the YMCA, joining Weight Watchers, and food shopping often and
cooking healthy meals for myself as opposed to eating out so often,
among other things. There is a "diet tribe" over at my journal, made
up of a bunch of my friends who are also interested in losing weight.
If you find yourself in a similar position, you should message me at
Lindskaba and talk to me about joining that group :)

Anyway. Now for the more glamorous reason I was feeling nauseous.

As I said, I went out last night...and did not return until 1:00pm
this afternoon. In order to explain what happened, I need to give
some background information. I help run a small theatre company
called The Independent Drama
here in Boston, and back in June I acted in a production
of Dinner with Friends through IDS. It is an ultra-intense,
4-person show about "friendship, family, and food"--and relationships,
growing old, and divorce. Through the rehearsal process, the four
actors in that production--myself, my boyfriend Dave, my very good
friend Melissa, and her boyfriend Chris (completely accidental, by the
way, that we got cast and happen to be dating each other)--grew
exceedingly close. We're pretty obsessed with each other, which
is...very wonderful. In any case, we never really had a cast party,
just due to scheduling or whatever. So we decided to rectify that,
last night.

The plan was to meet at Melissa and Chris' for dinner, drinks, and an
MST3K-style viewing of the Dinner with Friends movie starring
Andie Macdowell and Dennis Quaid. As I said, I showed up feeling
pretty queasy, and so just drank water and picked at the food for
awhile...until I started to feel better. Somehow, I was poured a
glass of wine...and it began. By the time the movie started at
10:00pm, I had drunk about 6 glasses of wine, a cup of sake, and a
shot of vodka, WAY more than my tolerance suggests I should be able to

Then it was somebody's brilliant idea to turn our viewing into a
drinking game. The rules were simple: if your character is on screen,
you may, at any point, tell everyone to drink.

Yeah, we're idiots.

Did you know that this version of Dinner with Friends is quite
awful? It's got an all-star cast--Toni Collette plays my
character--but somehow, it was like NONE of them were acting! At all!
It was...it was quite awful, in the most hilarious way. In any case,
we found ourselves shouting things at the screen, and every few lines
someone would inevitably yell out, "Drink to how awful that was!"

Long story short, I made love to the toilet bowl that night, for the
first time in 4 years.

I feel the need to justify myself. There were 6 people at this party:
the four actors who I've already named, the director, and the stage
manager. All are people I would trust my life to...which, in fact, I
basically did last night. It was the safest possible place I could
have gotten sick in.

Do I regret it? ....Eh, not really. Yes, throwing up was a horrible,
horrible experience, as it usually is, but the party was...just really
fun. Really fun. Probably had more to do with the company
than the alcohol, but I don't think the latter hurt.

And that's why I didn't post on time.

auraesque: Mad Men (Default)
Hi, my name is Smeddley and I'm a crafter...

This is the story about one of my crafts and his crazy adventure
(warning: picture heavy and I REALLY hope I get the coding right!).
The is Stephan, the Stephalopod. You can make your very own Stephan
using this
if you like to crochet, or, like a lot of my
non-crocheting friends, you can cajole and/or bribe me until I send
you one. They're a pain to make (they take about 3 hours, and the
sewing together is the worst part) but they're oh so cute. Especially
when my hubby takes it upon himself to send the Stephalopod on an

Click here for a photo-log of Stephan's journey... )

Shameless self-promotion:

More of my creative husband: my Clue-inspired
Valentine's Day present!

If you like yarn crafts and are on Ravelry, I'm Smeddley there,
and would love to friend you and ooooh and ahhh over your
works of yarn-y goodness!

once folded 1000 paper cranes

auraesque: Mad Men (Default)
Just checking in!
auraesque: Mad Men (Default)
Hello! I'm Tina and my journal is [livejournal.com profile] cmer. I'm happy to be
doing the blogathon for Holly. :)

I saw on the news this morning that Harry Potter may be "losing its
magic," according to an anchor on MSNBC, and that made me feel kinda
sad. I've been a huge Harry Potter fan since the fourth book came out
(2000) and I've always looked forward to the movies, despite many of
their unneccessary changes and weird additions in all of them.

Perhaps the general audience, the non-Harry Potter reading people,
aren't avid movie fans as they used to be? The sixth movie, in my
opinion, was really great and wonderfully funny. Really, it's most
definitely something I'm anxious to see again sometime very soon,
personally (but maybe that's because I'm biased, lol). Anyway, the
MSNBC anchor and some movie expert guy speculated that the world might
be experiencing "Harry Potter fatigue." That makes sense, I suppose.
The Harry Potter craze has been around for about ten years now and may
be fizzling now that the Harry Potter series is complete.

There's also the possiblity that many people, mostly avid HP fans, are
boycotting the movie because Warner Bros. delayed the release date
from November of last year to July of this year. The WB execs did this
because they realized too late that WB did not have a summer
blockbuster movie for this year as they did last year with The Dark
. They pissed off a lot of fans (myself included) as a
result and after posting a petition about this, thousands of fans
included their signatures but that did not convince WB to change the
date back. But I haven't heard anyone boycotting the movie on the
internet yet; maybe that's because I don't visit the right HP sites
anymore; a few years ago I've personally moved on from the Harry
Potter fandom to another fandom, DC Comics.

Despite the disappointing (though expected) news that no one cares
about the HP movies anymore, I am eagerly looking forward to the last
two Harry Potter movies that are based on the last book, Harry
Potter and the Deathly Hallows
. What's most intriguing is that the
movie producers decided to split the last movie into two movies, as I
said, and I wonder where in the book they'll be ending the first
movie. Rumors currently going around the internet state it'll end
where (spoilers!) the Death Eaters capture Harry, Ron, and Hermione in the
. If that turns out to be true, then I'll be really
pleased. It's definitely a good cliffhanger for the non-HP reading
fans, I think. But what I'm most looking forward to is my favorite
chapter in Deathly Hallows, A Prince's Tale since I'm a
huge Snape fan and so I hope they'll do that part justice.

This concludes my blogathon post for Holly. (It was much longer than I
anticipated, lol. Sorry.) I hope everyone is having great weekend! :)

(I hope the html in this post works...)

auraesque: Mad Men (Default)
I wish I could read these guest blogger posts. :P
auraesque: Mad Men (Default)
OK: Who ordered the crackerjack sundae with extra caramel? Yum.
auraesque: Mad Men (Default)
Hi, it's [livejournal.com profile] mistressemi. I think I am doing this at the right time.

So Holly got me into this just last night. I’ve seen the posts, but
hadn’t signed up until she was asking what she should blog about, and
I said moo cows. But I guess between us I’d be the expert on that

Have you ever ended up with a crazy obsession that just leaves people
staring at you in amusement? That’s how I am with my cows. In fact, my
purse is a cow. His name is Moot and he goes with me everywhere. My
doctors like to joke about it because even if my family doesn’t come
with me to appointments or tests, I always have some support with me,
don’t I? Moot it always right there waiting to be hugged.

I honestly don’t even know what caused the obsession to begin with. I
know that around the time it started, there was a cow puppet at the
grocery store mom and I would go to all the time and I wasn’t happy
until I had put it on my hand, placed it on her shoulder, and mooed at
her. From there it’s just gotten worse.

My most recent cow was given to me by my boyfriend. His name is
Charlie and he has a star on his foot. He welcomed me home from Utah
with a note and a bouquet of roses. Ash said he had a dream about it
and got the idea. I think the cows were speaking to him.

As I don't have a photo of Moot up and available on my photobucket, I
will just have to leave you with this gift instead:

auraesque: Mad Men (Default)
Hello everyone, [livejournal.com profile] trileaderroses here! I'll be your host
for the next three hours! I've decided that we are going to play Mad
Libs. Just post your words as a comment and I'll stick them into the
paragraphs. I'll reveal the theme of the game in my last post and
around 9:00 I'll start showing you all the finished Mad Libs as
responses to your comments. I won't post them immediately because I
want to give people a chance to participate without reading other
answers (That would give it away!). Enjoy!

Number One:

1. A foreign country
2. Adverb
3. Adjective
4. Animal
5. Verb ending with –ing
6. Verb
7. Verb ending with –ing
8. Adverb
9. Adjective
10. A place (mall, cemetery, etc.)
11. Type of liquid
12. Part of the body
13. Verb

...I hope this works! If the LJ code is wrong, I'm sorry!

auraesque: Mad Men (Default)
And, #2:

1. A place
2. Plural noun
3. Plural noun
4. Part of the body, plural
5. Article of clothing
6. Part of the body
7. Plural noun
8. Adjective
9. Part of the body
10. Adverb
11. A place

auraesque: Mad Men (Default)

1. Adjective
2. Noun
3. Type of container
4. Occupation, plural
5. Occupation, plural
6. Adverb
7. Type of building
8. Plural noun
9. Verb ending with –ing
10. Plural noun
11. A place
12. Exclamation (Wow! Stop!, etc.)
13. Plural noun
14. Article of clothing, plural
15. Plural noun

auraesque: Mad Men (Default)
Aw, everyone must be out tonight. No one's playing. That's okay! Maybe later!


1. Adjective
2. Animal
3. Something that’s alive, plural
4. Type of liquid
5. Adverb
6. Type of food, plural
7. Type of food
8. Verb
9. Noun
10. Type of liquid
11. Number
12. Noun
13. Adjective
14. Silly noise
15. Something alive, plural
16. Something alive, plural
17. Part of the body, plural

auraesque: Mad Men (Default)

1. Noun
2. Male Celebrity
3. Adjective
4. Part of the body
5. Noun
6. Type of food
7. Verb
8. Part of the body
9. Part of the body
10. Part of the body
11. Noun
12. A place
13. Exclamation

auraesque: Mad Men (Default)
Okay! All done! If anyone wants to participate later, the entries
aren't going anywhere! :)

1. Foreign country
2. Foreign country
3. Verb
4. Foreign country
5. Verb
6. Foreign country
7. Part of the body
8. Adjective
9. Verb
10. A city
11. Type of food
12. Verb
13. Type of vehicle
14. Type of vehicle
15. Noun
16. Male celebrity
17. Female celebrity
18. Verb

auraesque: Mad Men (Default)
I hope you all enjoyed the guest bloggers. I haven't gotten a chance to
read their posts yet, but I am looking forward to it.

Work went all right--I like the coworkers I worked with today. I think
I'm really getting a sense of my coworkers' personalities now. It's
been a couple weeks, and so I think we're past that tentative What do
you do?<.i> stage. P, despite sometimes acting like a child, is an all
right guy--he does know his stuff, and he is an interesting guy with a
plethora of trivial knowledge. B is a good kid in his bad-boy stage. I
imagine that he's what my little brother will be like in a few years. D
is another good guy--actually, I work with a lot of guys. We were joking
the other day that it was like five against one, there were so many
guys...and me. It was cute. Everyone is nice.

The people that come to the restaurant are mostly families, and a few
regulars at the bar. I like families, even though thier messy. The
kids are cute, and most of them are well-behaved. There have been a few
cheerios-everywhere incidents, but nothing I couldn't handle. Waiting
tables is nothing like retail, though, I'll give it that.

Have any of you worked in the restaurant business? Any crazy stories to
auraesque: Mad Men (Default)
My first celebrity crush was on Michael Crichton. Well, okay, that's a
lie. I had a crush on that blond kid from the U.S.S. Songboat when I was
like five, and I adored the older brother in Barney, and I am sure there
were more, but I fell in love with Mr. Crichton for his words.

I read Jurassic Park as a precocious 10-year-old, and most of it was way
over my head. I loved that there were dinosaurs on his mysterious
island, and one of the protagonists was a kid! Like me! I loved the
illustrations and explanations of fairly complex technology and computer
systems and, having seen the movie three years earlier, I was amazed by
all the cool stuff they left out. From there, I picked up
Airframe, Congo, Sphere--anything I could find in the library or at

I may not have always agreed with Mr. Crichton's take on technology,
global warming or women, but I loved him for his writing. His stories
took place in our world, and for all I knew, they could be possible. I
liked how he explained things in simple terms, and they were just so...cool.
auraesque: Mad Men (Default)
Never heard of the U.S.S. Songboat? Oh, man, are you in for a treat.

Between this, half the library of Kids-Songs, Winnie-the-Pooh, Wee Sing in Sillyville and a recorded-from-TV copy of Honey, I shrunk the Kids, this is my early childhood. My mom would pop one of these bad-boys in and we would be entertained for the next fifty minutes. My sister and I could rewatch these videos over and over--in fact, by the time we were out of elementary school, a lot of the videos were already grainy.

When I started babysitting, I would bring over copies of the videos and, wow, they were like magic. As an adult, I...don't see it, but I remember loving them as a kid. Plus? I wanted to marry that boy in the red shirt with all my five-year-old heart.

What weird shows did you watch as a kid? Bonus points if you can find them on YouTube.
auraesque: Mad Men (Default)
When we were little, my dad was usually the one who read stories to us. It was our thing. Sure, mom took care of us all day and made sure we were clean, well-fed and healthy--but dad read to us.

He would do voices, too. My dad had an entire repertoire of voices from
Elmer Fudd to Donald Duck to Wile E. Coyote (he did the whistling sound
he makes when he falls off a cliff--it was awesome!). Out of all the
voices he did, though, his best was Grover.

I loved it when my dad read the Monster at the End of the Book.
It was my favorite. And even though I know the monster was just (spoiler
alert!) lovable ol' Grover, I could ask for it every night.

Did you have a favorite book from when you were a kid? What was it?
auraesque: Mad Men (Default)
I haven't been able to get out to bookstores as often as I used to, but when i was in high school, they were my favorite place to be.

I used to sit in the chairs at Borders or Waldenbooks and read, or peruse the shelves or a used book shop for interesting books. The YA section was filled with novels I wanted to pick up, but I limited myself to one or two books each trip.

I think, in part, Amazon put an end to my bookstore trips. Why drive 20 minutes when I could order the books and have them arrive on my doorstep?

But there is something magical about bookshops, and even if I don't visit them too much anymore.
auraesque: Mad Men (Default)
My coworker asked me today what music I listen to. Sheepishly, I answered: Hanson. But, my coworker surprised me. He was impressed, and even said, "Nice!" It was sweet.

I've liked Hanson since around 8th grade when I rediscovered their music. My sister had been a fan, while I bopped out over the Backstreet Boys. By high school I had grabbed the new CD and heard their edgier, rock sound.

Hanson's music really makes you want to sing along, to move your body and dance. Their concerts are incredible--they put on an amazing live show. And they are so true to their music, even going as far as to leave their label and start a new one on their own. They're good kids.

I am way excited for their tour this year. In fact, I just ordered tickets to their Baltimore show. Anyone else going? (I know at least two of you on my F-list are, and we should totally meet up like the Fansons we are).
Page generated Sep. 20th, 2017 04:33 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios