So, I got a Tumblr.

TUMBLE WITH ME

http://cee-ehs.tumblr.com/
http://cee-ehs.tumblr.com/
http://cee-ehs.tumblr.com/

I didn't understand the point or the appeal of Tumblr until I realized that Tumblr is actually what I do when I surf the internet (lul, does anyone even say that anymore? I blame my father), which is scroll mindlessly through pages and pages of JPEGs and GIFs. Only, now I can non-committally click a heart icon to indicate to the world that CS LIKES THIS THING. And I can even re-post things I REALLY like so that they will show up in my followers' feeds and they can say CS REALLY LIKES THIS THING, I CAN SEE. And since I am a nerd a creature who likes liking things and showing other people the things she likes, it's kind of like kismet.

I also downloaded the Tumblr app on my phone so that I can enjoy never having a life again. Also, I usually don't expose myself to new media unless it's foisted upon me (alsoalso, my home internet is lame and has a bandwidth cap, in case you've forgotten). So I am going to LIKE ALL THE THINGS. ALL THE TIME.

This coffee. It has definitely kicked in.

Once in a while, every so often, I have days that are very productive (note such antecedents as "once in a while" and "every so often"). And I have to remark upon them, and tell everyone, "HEY GUYS! I DID STUFF TODAY! LOOKIT ME OVER HERE, EXERCISING MY BASIC MOTOR SKILLS!" as if ordinary humans don't go around Doing Things all day, every day. Because most of the time, I sit around in my pajamas drooling on myself (if you think I'm lying, you've clearly never met me) and think about all of the wonderful things I plan on doing when I summon the necessary physical effort required to move my not-so-considerable body mass from one point to another.

Productivity is something I have to gear up for. The traditional method employed to accomplish this is coffee. Coffee, and sitting around in my pajamas. Because I have to trick myself, see. I can't just jump into Doing Things, I have to ease into it, all sneaky-like. Otherwise my inherently sloth-y nature will catch on, and I'll never progress into the actual Doing Things portion of the Doing Things venture.

It takes me approximately an hour to finish a cup of coffee, because, as it has been established, I do everything slower than average humans. If there are distractions (i.e. another human, the electronic tit, the internets), you can probably add another half-hour, because not only am I slow, I'm also easily distracted. At any rate, this is plenty of time for whatever muscle mass I mave have cultivated by pure accident to atrophy and put my being at ease.

The trick comes sometime after this period of essential non-doing, when you're sitting at your kitchen at 3 p.m. in sweatpants and a cami nursing the dregs of your coffee and running out of excuses not to Do Things. At this point, you have to jump up very deliberately, before your inner sloth can react, and get your hands dirty. No testing of waters - just get elbow deep in the task at hand. That way, your brain can't go "that thing. . . I'll get to it after I've finished with this other less important thing". Instead, it's like "whoa, this thing! I am doing it! Okay, let's roll with it!"

Luckily enough, as sloth-y as I am, I also have fantastic tunnel vision. So, once I've managed to trick myself into Doing Things, I am Doing Them. One-hundred-percent. Sometimes I even forget stuff like eating and showering, because I gotta finish Doing Things. Because once I finish Doing this Thing, I can Do this other Thing. And then life will be wonderful and complete, if only because said Thing was probably sitting there for roughly 9,000 years sobbing for attention.

That's another thing about Doing Things - as reluctant as I am to start them, Doing one Thing seems to lead to Doing a lot of other Things. It's like once you start, you can't stop. This is a testament to everything in my life being extremes - it's either perpetual motion, or no motion.

So yeah, that was my day. It was a day of Doing Things. Nothing important, of course - if you somehow still had high hopes for me and my prioritization, you'd do well to extinguish them right now. And by "nothing important", I mean "I hand-washed a bunch of vintage clothes, costume pieces, and handwashables that had been accumulating in a pile in my room all summer" and "I scrubbed some My Little Ponies that have been sadly jumbled in the bottom of one of my bookcases because, two years after beginning collecting again, I still haven't given all of them a scrubbing". I also took a shower (and shaved my legs, OMGnowai!), read 20 pages of a new book, and watched some Twin Peaks with my mom (which we watched the first half of in late winter/spring, but stopped because I was literally never home this summer).

But the good news (for me, anyway) is that almost all of the ponies are clean, finally, so for the first time ever, my entire collection will be properly on display, instead of being strung out with portions of it proliferating in various corners, begging for TLC. I'm reclaiming my right to spinsterdom singledom, guys.

And the only uncleaned/unsorted vintage finds are the ones I need to get altered to fit me - I need to find a good seamstress, since our sewing machine isn't heavy-duty enough to tackle most of the formals. Speaking of sewing machines, though, I want to move ours into my room, and I think it may work. I never work on projects because I find the notion of lugging it out unappealing (plus, the only available space is usually one that's obtrusive to my mom's daily business, and I usually never finish things in one go). If it works, this means I'll be way more apt to begin wigworks, among other things, since I'll have an actual table setting. =D (Not to mention, the table setting could also hold a flatscreen TV when not in use, which solves the other problem I have of never being able to watch DVD's since the TV in the living room is usually occupied.)

Anyhow, it's way too late, and I have work tomorrow. Also, a 50's fancy dress party in someone's garage. I am, of course, looking forward to this and the chance to dress up for it, although most of the attendees are people I don't know terribly well besides my summer season co-worker (but they're all pretty chill people, so I don't foresee any complications).

This art whoring business is freelance!

In other words, I got a Lookbook. Despite the fact that it is a site crawling with elitist hipsters, its basic invention is very appealing to me, since I love fashion and dressing up in the day-to-day, but often feel bad foisting such fare at my Facebook friends or DA watchers. This forum was designed for showing off my closet, though!

You can stalk me here, if you like.

Despite the fact that I find the atmosphere more often inspirational than not, the site has the irking policy of auto-pruning your submissions from the "new" feed if you don't have a certain amount of karma. However, since no one can see my looks, I can't gain any karma to get recognized with. . . Thus, I need a little help from my friends, if you would be so kind.

That, or according to the elitist hipsters, I have the visual appeal of a toadstool, despite the fact that 14-year-olds taking webcam shots in their bedrooms get hype.

( Hype some of my looks, pretty please? )

ALL I EVER WANTED WAS TO BE POPULAR ON THE INTERNET. ;___;

Also, I'll post an entry about actual stuff soon. You know, when I stop procrastinating.

Have you ever noticed that when you've read a lot of prose, your mind starts composing sentences in kind regarding the mundane and everyday?

Instead of just thinking "hm, the underside of my knee is getting sweaty" (or even just "ew knees sweaty must unfold", because most people aren't crazy and don't articulate their physical impulses in Oxford English), you think "the underside of her knees were sticky, as if it were a stifling July afternoon".

Or perhaps that's just me (it's probably just me). I've noticed I have a propensity to poeticize the most mundane things in my head, though, and that when I'm really into a good book, like I was today, since I was working the library book sale and had to have something to pass the time, the impulse kind of goes into overdrive. I'd venture to say it's a pretty common trait among writers, though - after all, isn't that kind of the nature of the craft, to see poetry where it wouldn't ordinarily exist?

That's your random thought of the day, brought to you by my imagination, as overactive and ill-prioritized as ever.

While we're discussing things that have no relevance, I had a dream last night that my dad and I were walking along a high school track, and he was teaching me how to smoke cigarettes. My dad does not smoke, being an asthmatic, so I'm not sure what to make of it. This was followed by a long, vivid dream involving John Cusack in some sort of imagined film, in which he had discovered how to teleport himself (by walking through doorways that had a bubble-like membrane, apparently) and ended up on another planet that was just like Earth, if Earth were entirely like Las Vegas and morality was even more optional. He hooked up with some supermodel chick who was very tall and wore a lot of black, but then she dumped him, which meant he couldn't go to a bar that he used to frequent for some reason, and had to resort to hanging out behind it and sharing a drink with some friendly hobos. He also wore a tan trenchcoat the whole time, because my subconscious is inexplicably attracted to men in tan trenchcoats.

Oh, and I watched Back to the Future all the way through for the first time ever. It was really a travesty that I hadn't seen it, with my reputation and all.

I usually don't do things like this, but these are all phrases I've used more than once recently, apropos of more than one scenario (or none at all). And I was feeling particularly reflective, so it came out like this.

I have personally found these statements to contain truth. Take them with a grain of salt, for they are generalized, but I do believe in them.

( Truths from life's latest theme suite. )

Only a few of those were embarrassingly idiomatic.

I have a confession to make. I. . . I like the new My Little Ponies.

I've been pretty disgusted with most of the new MLP stuff on shelves in the past year. (Which is probably A Good Thing, really, since I really don't need to invent more reasons to spend my not-so-hard-earned-but-not-so-plentiful dollars.) I mean, G3.5 was creepy. Toy designers these days seem to have a painful obsession with stylizing the ever-loving shit out of everything - this is the industry vogue post-Bratz dolls. I think the mainstream obsession with anime and Japanese culture has convinced the marketing gods that the bigger the huge, creepy, soul-eating eyes and the smaller the mouth, the better. Littlest Pet Shop toys only vaguely resemble the animals they are meant to represent these days (admittedly, though, some of them are kind of cute regardless).

I didn't really care for the G4/Friendship is Magic ponies when I first saw them, either - they looked doe-like instead of horsey. The original G1 line is what I held dear as a kid, and while arguably, they didn't look entirely equine either, they were still clearly a pony. The G2 line never quite appealed to me in design, but I bought them in stores because I was 8 when they came out, and I was thrilled to be able to find something MLP on a shelf rather than just at a flea market.

I was a teenager during the G3 years, and out of the whole pony scene, so I didn't get the chance to get excited about buying them in stores. Somthing about the line lacked character to me, too, and although I own G3 ponies now, only the more inspired designs appeal to me. . . some of them were just very generic and bland.

The G4 ponies have really grown on me, though. I still don't think they have a terribly strong resemblance to actual horses, but I'm less bothered on this point than a lot of collectors because I'm not an especial enthusiast of horses as an animal. (Before you go getting offended, I think they're cool enough, but I don't love them any more than I love cows, ostriches, or capybaras.)

I was at Toys 'R Us the other night, and they had a "buy one, get one free" sale on all Hasbro stock, so I caved. Rarity and Pinkie Pie were the only two single ponies they had in the store - I was a lot more sold to Rarity than I was to Pinkie (whom I've never been that fond of in general - pink on pink, boooring, and what do balloons have to do with anything?), but hey, she was free, and I don't look a gift horse in the mouth! [/shot]

Friday, I sat down on my lunch break to watch an episode of the show, since 4chan and SA seemed to be going crazy with GIF's and macros, and I was already curious. And. . . Man, you guys, I am so into these Flash-animated ponies and their cotton-candy flavored adventures. I got actual goosebumps listening to the theme song, which made me feel extremely lame - not because it was a master accomplishment of musicianship in any way, but because it was the sound of my childhood accompanied by badass character designs that actually engaged me at an age demographic above the pre-school level. And Rainbow Dash's "Look out below!", in homage to Firefly from the first 80's animated special (shut up, I only watched it 500 times when I was five), totally stole my heart.

Check it out:



Of course, it's no surprise that the new cartoon is 747345645474 times better than any direct-to-DVD animation Hasbro has put out in the last decade (the only time I subjected myself was when I got a free DVD with a pony I received as a gift, and it was quite enough, although yaoiophile and I did get a laugh out of it). That's because it's the brainchild of Lauren Faust, the creative force behind Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends and wife of Powerpuff Girls creator Craig McCracken. Also, she's a collector and longtime fangirl. "For the fans, by the fans", anyone?

But yeah. . . I am seriously into this. In an "I would DVR this shit" kind of way. AND I AM NOT ASHAMED (nor am I the only one).

And after watching the show (which is, toy franchise aside, actually very well-done, as far as visuals and character animation and scriptwriting go), I had to go out and buy the rest of single ponies. One thing I really like is the individualism each pony has - the shape of the eyes and the style of the hair is totally unique to the character. I still think the modernized designs work better in the context of animation rather than a toy, but I've got to say, I still think they're pretty cute

I'm happy to be genuinely excited about something pony-related for the first time in a long while - actually, just excited about something, in general, ponies notwithstanding. It makes me feel somewhat less embarrassed to be turning 21 in a few days and having shelves full of plastic marketed towards little girls. Good on you, Hasbro, for actually investing in something intelligent and engaging to move units rather than just shipping out more trite plastic crap.

That said, though, there's a reason why I'm not involved in the pony collecting community very actively. . . And that is because I don't want to associate with adult women who forfeit their life savings to obtain coveted plastic figures, and languish in debt while they sit alone in their pony rooms, husbandless, boyfriendless, and childless, drowning their sorrows in vacant stares of so many handpainted eyes.

PONY POWER, YO.

Yup, here we are again.

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Ikasucon itself is a dying con with small attendance, disorganized management, and not much to do, but I really liked the venue and the surrounding city. For all it has going against it, the people there were much friendlier and less obnoxious than what I generally see at a con, and there was a higher frequency of good cosplay.

Also, I got in touch with my inner Scandinavian, and it was awesome.

( Some people like Skwisgaar, too. )


And now. . . the picspam portent of the post! Not for the faint of bandwidth.

( ABBAMANIA! )

Guuh, I can't wait to get a proper shirt (and steal a guitar strap. . .) so that we can stage another shoot. Skwisgirl was fun, but the slashy innuendos didn't come across as well with boobs in the equation. XD I like bitchfacing throughout the day and shaking my ass as I walk down the street.

Note to Self: Update your LJ.
Note to Self: Do this soon.
Note to Self: Stop using the header "note to self". It hasn't been clever since some time in the mid-80's.

I went to Chicago to see Conan, and do some other stuff.



I just. . . gah. I feel at a loss to give this experience any kind of justice in a trip report because the best part about being there was the sensation of being a part of the whole thing. But, words have never failed me before, and I know most of you are expecting nothing less than the usual verbosity that has become my gold standard. After all, this is Conan, who has apparently become synonymous with CS, judging by the number of slightly embarrassing special occasion cards I've received with his face on them by this point.

Also, ignore the fact that I have my "did the flash go off?" face on in all of the photos. XD My mom is not so great at operating my camera. Also, she believes life should only be viewed in landscape, not portrait, because she has a grudge against the lower half of the human body. (I still love her, though.)

( Prepare to be punched in the face with a wall of fangirly text. )

So yeah, that was Chicago. I want to visit again ASAP, and I really think I could get used to city life.

And ever since I got home, I've had this to contend with:



. . . Because the neighbors left to go see a White Sox game. In Chicago. He's cute, but a bit of a biter, so I'm glad he's my brother's responsibility.