Friday night was the KAOS Halloween party and I went as The Grudge. It was badarse and there were compliments on the creepy, but alas I don't have any other photos than that one of me creeping at the door of the LFoD.

On Saturday night we did our now annual horror movie Halloween with candy and delicious and scary ourselves silly. The movie selection this year was Mirrors, The Ward, Hide & Seek, and Skeleton Key. (Our warm-up during the week was Simpson's Treehouse of Horror episodes and Scream 4.)

In the middle of all this stuff we had a girly tea-party. Because.


I am 172 centimeters tall.
This makes me taller than 25.1% of men and 85.7% of women.

|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
spacefem.com/quizzes/tall/



Huh.

I was having this discussion yesterday with Lara about how I always think that I'm average height or just below average, probably because most of my friends are at least a half an inch taller than me and because both of my parents are taller. I still wish I was taller though. I feel more like my 'proper' height in a pair of high heels, which is why I don't really like wearing flats. (The 'living with people who skew the average' is the reason I always think of myself as still being flat-chested when I'm a C. I blame living with three girls who were DDs and above.)

Alison is doing NaNo right now, you guys! SHE'S A FOOL!


How bad does this look?

How much will I totally be seeing it?

Don't pretend that Conan the Barbarian wasn't an important part of your childhood! ...or maybe that was just mine? You know... looking back on it... Arnold Swarchenegger really was quite involved in my formative years: Terminator(s), Predator(s), Conan(s), Total Recall (which SCARRED ME, If you're reading this, mother!)

But this Conan is different. Because this Conan is Jason Momoa and I want into his pants. Like every sane person should.
Lewi has come over to visit Lara (and us a little bit, but mostly Lara!) and he's teaching me how to play Silent Hill like the n00b I am. Which involves a lot of swearing at the screen when the monsters show up, insulting their mothers and sexual proclivities. (Turns out, when monster killing, I turn into a raging misogynistic who yells things at the screen like "die, you fucking whore beast from hell! FUCKING EAT MY BAT!" Which is... a little concerning for my inner mental state, I'm sure.)

I have discovered two things about this game so far. First that, oh my god, is there a shit load of walking around. Down streets, in buildings, walking walking walking gimme more monsters! (So I can panic.) And secondly, the protagonist that you play, James? A complete and utter walking Doesn't Deserve To Live. Oh, so stupid! So stupid! Let me count the ways.

I now present: James is a douche, in list format )

I might understand all this if he were some super cool marine dude before coming to Silent Hill, but he was a regular freaking guy! He has no badassary excuses!

Also, at some angles, he looks like Edward Cullen. No one else seems to see this, but I do. I SEE IT. And it means my desire to help him remain alive is even less. Damn he and I being the same person!
So, the plan for tonight was to turn the four metres of red fabric I bought into a dress instead. So Jen and I watched Mean Girls (OH YES WE DID) while I laid it all out on the floor and sort of made a pattern out of newspaper. By twenty minutes later I decided that I had no a clue what I was doing and maybe cutting the cloth up and just sort of pasting it to my body wasn't the best idea. I'll see if I can instead get a hold of Sam verysoon and she can tell me what to do, because whatever I was thinking wasn't working.

I lack the skills.

So I decided that I would work on the button holes on my other dress... but I have no blue thread to match it.

So tonight I got exactly nothing done on my medieval clothes, except for getting Jen into them and finding she looked quite hot in them. (But, let's face it, girl looks pretty damn good in most things, the sexy-waisted excellent-breasted cow. Although, a cow would mean udders not breasts and now there's all this imagery going on in my head and it needs to stop immediately.)

For the first time in a year I have dyed my hair. A YEAR. That's pretty much the longest I gone without dying it since I was about sixteen, which is madness. No photos, because it's not that dramatic. Just a rather pretty and very non-medieval berry sort of red. It has a nice sun glow to it but not the radioactive I used to have.
Tonight there was an informal sewing group in the living room as we all try and finish garb before Canterbury Faire. (Oh man, so close. How much can I not wait for nine days of medievalness? The answer is A LOT.) I am not even half way around hemming the skirt on my GIANT freaking gown. It's going to take forever but it will be worth it. Everyone loves a huge skirt.

After sewing we didn't do much. Oh, except that we watched Repo!! OH MY GOD, FOR THE FRACKING WIN! :D It made me happy in my pants and in my soul. (The bits with Anthony Stewart Head singing and being evil made me especially happy in the pants region.)

How tempted am I to watch it again later tonight? SO VERY MUCH Not at all. Nope. None.

Musical and Medieval both start with an M. M is clearly awesome.
My media player has, for some reason, deleted the last two letters of a song, thus making it read The Haunting (Somewhere In Tim. Somewhere in Tim? Well, I'm certianly not going in to find it.

In DL I'm getting to write incredibly fun and disgusting torture scenes in Shanghai. It kicks arse but I won't go into details since I know at least a few people on my flist are more squeamish than me. Mmmmm, sexy bloody torture.

In other boring news, I still have plague. It's gross, baby.

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honeyspider

August 2012

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