JordanCon 10 Recap Post

It’s that time of year again, the one where I force my sleep-deprived, whisky-soaked brain through the equivalent of mental olympics and parse together a post to recap the best little literary convention that ever was.

JordanCon. Home.

“Welcome home,” said the video from the Opening Ceremonies, with succinct perfection. In less than seven minutes that video commemorated the ten years the convention has run, and the author whose series brought us all together: Robert Jordan, AKA Jim Rigney Jr, and his brain child the Wheel of Time. Let me tell you, I’m rather pleased I was waiting my Opening Ceremonies cue and didn’t watch until the video was posted on the JordanCon YouTube channel because holy crappit, pass the tissues. Whew!

For the unfamiliar: JordanCon is a sleepless bender literary convention that is held in Atlanta every April. I’ve attended all but the first two years, and it gets bigger and better every turning of the Wheel.

This year’s Author Guest of Honour was none other than my bestie, Jason Denzel, who was also celebrating the 20th anniversary of Dragonmount, a nerdy little website he created back in the day.

The Artist Guest of Honour was the impeccably talented Stephanie Law, and I am oh so delighted to have an original of her work gracing my collection.

Clockwise from top left: Moiraine wins Best In Show; author guest Brandon Sanderson with Artist Guest of Honour Stephanie Law; dedicated Art Show volunteers working tirelessly; Author Guest of Honour Jason Denzel and myself.

Naturally, it’s difficult to pick my favourite moments from that whirlwind weekend, and half are going to sound like inside jokes (apologies!):

Opening Ceremonies I: Everything I could see from the back of the room was both hilarious and heartwarming. One of my favourite moments was when Con Chair, Jennifer Liang, and Co-Chair, Jimmy Liang, were honoured for creating JordanCon, including being presented with epic replica objects of power, the Choden Kal, thanks to the machinations of Asha’man Phillip Edwards. (Thank you again for organizing that, Phillip!)

Opening Ceremonies II: I played Min to Paul Bielaczyc’s Rand, wearing my drunky pants. Our job was to announce details about the hotdog Art Show and Dealer Hall. I blabbed it to pretty much everyone, but I chugged about half a 26er* of whisky to steady my nerves before the Opening Ceremonies, even though I didn’t have a speaking bit. This is not an exaggeration. Anxiety is a bitch, and yes, I am an introvert. FYI: if I smell like maple at JordanCon, it’s the whisky, not the Canadian genes, haha!

Clockwise from top left: Playing Min Farshaw to Paul Bielaczyc's Rand al'Thor; stealing Jason Denzel's friends at Speed Friending; doing shots during the costume contest with Seth Lockhart; Jeff Bernard and Melissa Word representing the JordanCon Charity Auction.

Speed Friending: Always a favourite of mine, Speed Friending is plugged as a place for first timers to meet people quickly (duh). It’s loud, but I love it, and try to attend every year to help bridge that gap between JordanCon veterans and new attendees--and usually in costume, because it’s a visual ice breaker. This year I brought Clementine, my baby Trolloc, and pretty much made everyone I interacted with hold her for a photo from that point onward, possibly to their dismay. Perfection. Creepy, creepy perfection.

JordanCon attendees with Clementine the Trolloc baby. Pictured here: April Butler and Vanessa Dial; Cooper Blackwood; Seth Ralston; Phillip Schultz; Ebony Adomanis; and JordanCon Co-Chair Jimmy Liang.

Friday dinner: usually I partake of the Tor.com Rereader dinner (I missed you guys!), but due to new food restrictions for the ease of everyone involved I opted to head to dinner with my similarly-food-restricted friend Kelcey Casson. After the whisky before Opening Ceremonies, and the three drinks I chugged at Speed Friending I was feeling pretty good (Serenla makes a mean Old Fashioned, guys, and I barely slowed down to taste it--still worth it! And our resident Jello-shooter gourmand Perry Minchew tossed me two Jello shots--literally, they landed on my cleavage and Clementine’s head, haha!). Of course, cue Kelcey saying we’re being joined by our Artist Guest of Honour, Stephanie Law, and allllll that alcohol finally hitting me. She was incredibly gracious and didn’t seem to mind my giddy company. I tried not to be obnoxious. (Not very hard, but I tried. haha)

Costume Contest: OMG, you guys, the costumes. We really went all out this year, folks. Kudos to all who entered the contest, and you all amaze me with your creativity every year! Ava Cash and her Asmodean, complete with instrumental performance! Rosemary Williams had hidden weapons and a quick-release skirt to her dress! Sophie Coleman of Ta’veren Tees had FUNCTIONING WINGS on her Draghkar! WINGS! WINGS THAT MOVE! Gah. I can’t possibly describe them all, in part because I was in a jittery haze myself, but that’s what pics are for!

Clockwise from top left: Joe O'Hara (of TWoTcast) as Mat with a pair of badgers; Ava Cash as Asmodean; Rachel Little and Brandyn Butler; Richard Blaylock, Elizabeth Rawitsch, and Linda Taglieri cosplaying as Team Jordan's Alan and Amy Romanczuk and Maria Livington Simons.

Clockwise from top left: Rosemary Williams and hidden weaponry; Serafina Virciglio and Christina Catherine as Seanchan High Blood; Molly Weiss as Rey and BB8; Sophie Coleman as a Draghkar.

Best In Show: Since this was JordanCon’s 10th anniversary, I really wanted to go big, and I knew the structure of the contest had changed. Instead of all contestants competing against each other, we were tiered into groups based on previous awards. If you have never won a costuming award you are a Novice; if you had won once you are a Journeyman; if you had two or more awards under your belt you are considered a Master (cue my insufferable adorable bragging to Mr Lannis that he’s married to a Master Costumer, and his chuckled reply that I could brag when that pays bills. haha). The tiers allow more awards to be granted, and it’s less intimidating for Novices to compete against those of us who have been doing so for years--basically more fun for everyone all around. Kudos to JordanCon Director, Susan Martin, who runs the contest, because they worked terribly hard to structure it in a way to maximize all participants’ enjoyment. As a costumer with a competitive streak, I knew I needed something flashy if I wanted to snag the inaugural Best In Show award. I’m planning on piecing together a post about the build process for those who have expressed interest. The Reader’s Digest version: it’s a live depiction of Ariel Burgess’ Moiraine, which denotes Moiraine’s character arc through the series including accoutrements symbolizing important moments along the way. I’ve always wanted to do a Moiraine costume, and Ariel’s artwork was exactly what I needed for it to stand out. Thank you, Ariel, for graciously granting me permission, it was all worth it!

Left: Ariel Burgess' Moiraine; Right: the costume version of art.

Tiaras: Wearing my tiara proudly--a newer JordanCon tradition that is sure to continue, because WE SHOULD ALL BE WEARING TIARAS ALL THE TIME.

WoT-Geekery: Making my two Warders kiss my cheeks before departing my presence--they’re neither of them blademasters, and they’re hella disobedient, but I think this means I’ve managed to get them started on the track of listening. Maybe. Haha! In truth, they’ve definitely pulled my ass out of the fire a time or two** and have earned their bestie titles proudly (and Mr Lannis is thankful, because it means he’s no longer inundated with exhaustive verbal diarrhea when he gets home, haha).

Introvert Dinner: An impromptu date, my friend (and JordanCon 10 Toastmaster!) Aubree Pham and I decided to grab dinner together at the hotel restaurant on Saturday night after the costume contest. It was a lovely break for the two of us introverts, a moment to breathe and decompress--and eat vegetables!--and amid the rush and bustle of JCon, it takes moments like these to ensure you get a chance to see some of your busiest friends. Introvert dinners for all!

The Nine Horse Hitch: Once again I assisted Chip Moore running the Nine Horse Hitch room party. We really are one of the best kept secrets of JordanCon, even if I do say so myself, and tell everyone I know, ha! The Dancing Tinker shooters were a hit, as were the Girl Scout Cookie and bourbon pairings. Nothing makes Chip and I happier than having the Nine Horse chock full of rowdy revelry, and I think we succeeded again this year.

Shenanigans at the Nine Horse Hitch! Top left: with Chip Moore; bottom right: with April Moore, the other half of my Hive Mind.

JordanCon's Art Show: I know I’m biased, but it gets better and better! So much of that is due to our dedicated group of volunteers who work tirelessly behind the scenes all. goddamn. year. folks! And our artists, who have helped us cultivate that inclusive, fun-loving vibe and helped us brainstorm and present some of the best Art Track programming that could ever exist. There are too many participating artists to name them all, but I am coveting all of my art treasures from this year.

Dealer Hall moments: Meeting new dealers, and artists who have submitted to the Art Show and also bought a table to be even more involved in JordanCon than they were previously, and hearing positive feedback from them about all our work. One of my favourite moments, though, was watching my two Magic: The Gathering playing friends nerd out with Charles Urbach, the artist who illustrated several cards, and Charles equally nerding out in return. Approachability is a big part of what makes JordanCon grand, and it makes my heart happy to see people enjoying new connections.

Elevator Selfie Parties: Yes, this is exactly what it sounds like, and one of my favourite things to do at JordanCon, even though I'm fairly certain it scares the crap out of people. Bonus: the elevator at the Crowne Plaza Ravinia was ridiculously fast, so I'd walk in, the doors would close, I'd demand a group elevator selfie, and then waltz out when the doors opened. I'm scary friendly like that, and the results are almost always hysterical--even when it's a solo party.

Crowd in! Elevator Selfie Parties are the best!

Awkward formal pics: Friday we had Star Wars theme decor in the Nine Horse Hitch, and of course it was still on the walls come Saturday (because ain't nobody got time for redecorating at Jcon). For a portion of Saturday I was working the Nine Horse's door and camped nearby, thus the droid-backdrop awkward formal pics became a thing. I love all you weirdos for playing along!

Awkward formal pics.

Dance Party: The convention theme revolved around the Seanchan Return, so a Homecoming theme was apt. So this year, Saturday night’s (in)famous dance party involved tiaras and ball gowns, tuxedos, tuxedo shirts and mostly-naked horse headed persons dancing (wait, that wasn’t at your Homecoming formal? Crap. We must have gotten our lines crossed somewhere…)



There’s more, there’s always, always more.

The thing about a recap post is that no one attendee can summarize the convention. We can only summarize our own experiences, so apologies if I’ve missed something you feel is integral, or if you were there and we never managed to say hello--I do try to say hi to everyone, but at a record-breaking 852 attendees in 2018, it makes it a little tricky.

Recently, in the JordanCon Facebook group, the challenge was posed to imagine your life without JordanCon. After eight years of shenanigans with my tribe, I’m not being a sap (shut up, Ross), when I say that concept momentarily rocked me, panic flashing lightning-like through my core. My best and closest friends are in the ranks of JordanCon attendees. This group, this family, has affected me with such magnitude that I cannot put the value into words. I am who I am because of this group of nerds. I have leaned on them, and been leaned on in turn. I have connected, and cried, and laughed, and loved, and celebrated with these people.

In many ways my heart is whole because of them.

Without JordanCon, I would be lost.

This convention has an infectious sense of community, one I do my best to perpetuate. I laugh about connecting to the first timers, that I have a list for my newbie hunt, but the truth is I want everyone to be welcomed by the same positivity and sense of family as I was years ago.

Because JordanCon is home. For all of us.

Welcome home.








*That's Canadian for a 750ml bottle of booze.

**No joke, my Warders are hella useful. Case in point, this post: Ross Newberry saved my butt after I inadvertently discovered a Blogger formatting bug. Thank you, Ross! Now give me a kiss! [taps cheek] ;)

The Year In Review: The Shit I Didn't Mention

All right, you caught me. The blogginess... it hasn't happened so much in 2014. But that's okay—that's the way a self-run show works. When you're the boss you get to call the shots, and this year I needed a wee break.

That said, I figured we'd do a Year In Review post. Which would make more sense if I'd actually had blogged more this year, yes, and since that's the case, I figured I'd write a Year In Review post regarding all the things I didn't blog about.

(Yes. Go ahead, read it again. It's weird. Welcome to the program, and buckle your seat belts.)

Forging ahead, here we go...

The 2014 Year In Review: The Shit I Didn't Mention

13. For some reason this year I have dropped a record number of items in the toilet. (Thankfully no electronics, and mostly sweater sleeves.) I have no excuse. I can't remember ever having dropped anything in the toilet before 2014... it's ludicrous.

12. I keep taking photos of our cat, Minette, curled up on our duvet like the squirrelish princess she is, but keep forgetting to post them with the caption that it's her favourite bedding. Every time I wonder if this will be the most recent photo of her before she dies, and thus attempt the best lighting and angle possible for our snarky girl. Every time she realizes what I'm up to and gives me the stink eye before I nail the perfect shot. It's like she's reading my mind and doesn't want a flattering photo on her casket (Bitch. No one makes caskets for cats anyway, never mind, Google says yes, someone does—but it's not like we'd be buying her one. Pfft).

11. Mr Lannis and I began watching Doctor Who and made it through whatever numbered Doctor it was when the series rebooted in 2005, but when the shift came to the next Doctor we fizzled out and forgot about it (until now). Worst. Geeks. Ever.*

10. Over the last twelve months we have bought 30 fish for our aquarium, 3 cherry shrimp, and 3 African Dwarf Freaks Frogs.

9. The frogs all died. All of them. Within two months. (I'm borderline OCD. I track this shit like you wouldn't believe.)

8. So did the fish. There are currently two fish in our tank. Their names? Fat Guy and Jeff. Everyone else checked out via the porcelain bowl (or were MIA because their tank mates ate them. Fat Guy's an ginormous a-hole, hence he's still king of the mountain. Jeff, well, he's one algae eater who knows how to hide).**

7. The shrimp up and vanished completely. (I had one nightmare of rediscovering them living in our houseplants, grown large as that asshole Hamster before he died—rest in peace, jerkface. My mind... she can be a creepy place.)

6. I know far too much about the Jian Ghomeshi scandal. Was glued to it at one point. I may or may not have a secret Pinterest board devoted to blog posts and news articles relating to this garbage excuse for a human. Crossing my fingers the floodgates for dialogue have opened for abuse victims, as that's the only true silver lining I see emerging from this situation.

5. Lighter note: I have a Cards Against Humanity card with my name on it. Actually two. This makes me inordinately happy. Also? Twisted. (No surprise there.)

4. Another happy thought: I have tallied and written my clients' receipts for 2014 and am eager to begin my income tax return (Sandi, look what you have done to me!)

3. I permed my hair a while back, in September, in October (when the first one didn't take in my uber-straight hair). It only reminded me that I'm a low-maintenance girl, and now I wear it braided or in a ponytail, and, if you know me, means I spent an awful lot of money on a frizzy ponytail instead of my usual sleek one. Yippee! (Secret: I still like it better. Now it's interesting.)

2. Started going to a chiropractor in August. I have miraculously only had one migraine aura since August(!). Like, for reals, yo—this is HUGE.

But doesn't quite have the wow factor of:

1. That time I won a "neck massager" off a blog and almost blogged about it—because: fuck yeah, I won a contest! and what kind of a prize is a sex toy? weirdest contest ever—but then decided it was TMI and kept my mouth shut until I clearly had low impulse control while writing this post and blaaaaarrrgggg: now you all know. You're welcome.***


* ETA: Did some digging, discovered we jumped in on the ninth Doctor, and left off at the beginning of the tenth Doctor. See? Geek cred partially restored. A touch. Okay, maybe we have some work to do...

** Fuck it. Wrote this post, and by the time it published we'd lost Fat Guy to, uh, whatever, and I pawned off sent Jeff to go live in our friend's fish tank (seriously: as in, that's not a euphemism for being flushed. He is actually making new goldfishy friends).

*** Pfft... relax. It's not like I use it. It's not even quality.

Bunny Bites

Ever get a notion stuck in your head and it eats its way through your brain? Something that begins quite logically, but slowly morphs from reasoned to rabid?

Yeah. Right now I have that. About rabbits.

Er, well, one rabbit. A bunny.

Not a certain one in particular, just the notion of a bunny. An aesthetically pleasing bunny, to be sure, as I enjoy aesthetically pleasing pets (if I'm giving you free room, board, and healthcare, you'd damn well be pretty to look at in return).

I've never had a bunny. My life has been bunny-less. Bunnyland is unchartered territory.

It's not even that the kidlets are bugging for one. It's me. I would like a bunny, and even as the person of the household who would be saddled with 99.9% of said bunny's care, the idea still appeals.

Rationally I know it's likely not a great, good, sane idea with Minette around. She's a cat. A cat's cat—she allows us to coexist in her house, as we have opposable thumbs and thus can more easily access the cat food, and water that hasn't touched the toilet bowl. And before she made the executive decision to be an indoor cat, she was a damn fine huntress.

Of course, she hasn't killed anything larger than an insect in years. Hell, the day Hamster got out of his cage we found her sitting primly about two feet from him, regarding him calmly in the middle of the living room carpet. They both turned to blink at Mr Lannis and me when we entered the room, as if we'd interrupted some pet pow wow of unknown importance.

However, after speaking to a representative of our local Humane Society, it would seem the missing a-hole Moggie's disappearance is basically textbook behaviour of a young female run off by an older territorial female (Minette—prissy thing she is). And Minetters does tend to lose her shit, go berserk if there's another cat in our yard, hissing, spitting, and growling in a seizure-like frenzy.

She's eleven, and healthy head to toe. She clearly prefers a single cat household.

But I'd like to adopt a bunny.

I'm home a lot. It would be out of the cage much of the day and crated at night. I keep reminding myself that it would be best to wait until Minette's kicked it, has passed before we enter into another long term pet commitment, since anything before that would be a possibly conflicting pet scenario.

At this rate, Minette will likely survive us all, and if not, then she'll be our anecdote about a bizarre long-lived cat everyone seems to carry in their back pocket—you know what I mean... how your great aunt's friend had a 27 year old cat they assumed was immortal until it got smoked by a train.

Yes. Minette will be around for years.

But I'd like to adopt a bunny.

And apparently our Humane Society allows for month-long fostering to see if the bunny's a good fit for our family...

It's crept into my head, this idea of mine, and has slowly gained urgency for no apparent reason.

Kind of like the boys' need for Hamster. And our subsequent aquarium. Oh, and those weirdos that are the frogs.

So while I know rationally I need to wait for a rabbit, I've been bitten by the bunny bug...

Place your bets... I'm thinking by spring we'll have a bouncy new friend (shhh... don't Mr Lannis)...

Beauty Shots of Chairs

Yes, this is actually a blog post celebrating my chairs.

Oh, pffft, don't act like you believe that title is the weirdest concept you've ever read on this blog. (Two words: Zombie Tits. You're welcome.)

 

'Round about a year ago I found myself browsing Kijiji and signed myself up for a refinishing project of an extent that my wee pea brain could not fathom. Looking back it was the $50 price tag for a ten piece solid wood dining set that rattled the sense out of my head, as I clearly had no concept of what I was getting into*...

Slowly, ever so slowly, this dining set—the chairs in particular—has undergone a magical transformation. Sections of wood have become darker with age, creating a patchwork effect of reds and browns to accompany the original tiger stripes I loved so much.

I've tried my best to capture the effects on camera, but the true vibrancy of the wood is lost through a lens.

Thanks to a $50 initial investment, another $375 in supplies, and two and a half months of elbow grease, I've been left with a unique dining set I couldn't love more.

No regrets.

(Okay, there're probably a few, as any refinishing project is an adventure in itself, but they've disappeared—blame the fumes of chemical stripper and polyurethane.)

So yes: beauty shots of chairs.



*For the record: no, I haven't refinished the quarter sized hole in the table's polyurethane coat. The kids haven't picked at it, either (shocker, yes?). The table's stain has lightened--a lovely green swathe down the middle--but there's nothing about this table I'm not willing to live with for the next five or six years, when we're planning our big kitchen reno, invest in a new dining set, and this one will be relegated to the basement. Or I could bite the bullet and refinish the tabletop... (nah...)

Spoiled Rotten

This morning when I came into the kitchen I was met with a surprise. On the counter was a puddle. An expansive one. Clear, but not water.

Well, not exactly.

Our watermelon rotted.

Poor cat, at first I accused her of knocking over a water glass. She was insulted. Sorry, Minette.

No. No, this teeny, tiny, mini watermelon—home from the grocery store a measly three days—had cracked and spilled faintly foul-smelling water across the counter.

I'm lucky it didn't drip into the crack between the counter and the stove. Ugh.

It was deflated. The rind no longer felt solid, and when touched it had the give of an under-inflated basketball. I've never seen anything like it.

So I'm sharing. Because I've already made four kids poke it, and showed my underwhelmed Mr Lannis (of course this evokes his bemused bafflement by my need to broadcast the peculiarities of Mother Nature and isn't it cool that this happened without a mark on the rind?! Yesterday this entire melon was completely firm! Fascinating... WHY IS HE NOT CAPTIVATED?!).

One torn, soft, putrid watermelon. And please enjoy the dirty splendor of our sink. I'm full of gifts today. You're welcome.

I blame Mr Lannis' defunct grocery shopping. This shit never happens when I'm on duty...

Purging the Cell

Doesn't that title sound twisted? Microscopic cellular puke?

Yeah, sorry to disappoint.

Apparently I have talent for losing digital photos--an odd habit for a self-proclaimed digital packrat... or at least, it is until I explain how I lose these bad boys...

I take them, with complete intention of using them somehow, and then promptly forget I've taken said photos...

99% of my cell phone photos fall under these categories:

1. Forgot my real camera for a classic photo opportunity... ie: field trips, visits with Santa, etc. Yes, I sometimes fail as a mom... actually, since I'm convinced failing is part and parcel of being a mom, I suppose I win there, too. (Justification: she is my super power.)

2. Comparison shopping. Take photos of prospective bargain at one store in order to compare it to similar (if not identical) item at another store, including comparing to online stores' items.

3. As my memory and a facilitator for laziness. If I've encountered something that I know I won't remember the name (and will possibly need said name) in order to relate the story to Mr Lannis or friends, I'll take a photo. I've taken pics of lists and requirements in order to not have to carry/copy paperwork. Also in relation to shopping: great for remembering specific details of bundled items or selection a store has. Definitely good for when Mr Lannis sends me to pick up something I know nothing about (take photo, show him, have him decide if return visit for purchase is necessary). Ultimately anything that will end up disqualifying my faulty memory from responsibility.

4. Ease of sharing. It's far easier to use our home WiFi network to share a quick cell phone shot on Facebook than it is to unplug the actual camera's memory card, upload photos to iPhoto, then in turn to Facebook. I've also been know to send the odd photo in a text message, but thanks to my lack of data plan this will cause my cell phone carrier to yell at me. Every. Time.

5. Random shenanigans... self-explanatory, yes?


So. Basically I'm in the market for a new phone. Nothing fancy. That I've downloaded my current cell's photos to the laptop actually speaks volumes about my commitment to an upgrade.

This post? Yeah. It's a showcase of the complete random that has accumulated. No reason other than how can I not share this gold?!

Yes, I'm lying in a vat of Lego. Dreams do come true. Note: my kid is not surprised.

Santa's elves have safety standards.

That's a giant bear sitting on my kid.

Still makes me laugh.

Yes, that's a plush homemade dill pickle. Watch out, it'll bite you.

This was a Christmas present of pure awesome. Jello brains!

Spotted in my town. I sleep more easily.

And lastly... I couldn't resist:

How do you lose digital photos?

So. While reorganizing digital photos, I found this:

Yeah... no real explanation, other than that the time date stamp is January 28th around 2pm.

I vaguely recall photographing this beastie for a blog post and I can't for the life of me conjure up the reasoning behind it other than that he was new at the time.

Long story very short: I was at the grocery store with four kids and the front end manager handed us a boxed set of Ray Harryhausen flicks with this guy in the box—for free. Apparently they were resorting to literally giving away the set. The kidlets immediately latched on to this friendly guy and were thrilled.

His name? Dogfaced George.

Naturally.

(He's currently keeping the corn plant company.)

Now I'm left bereft, having found this in the stash of iPhoto files, forgotten... never will we know what I was going to say...

I mean, clearly I had an epic story about him—LOOK at him!—crouched in the snow, snarling away for all his might.

Hell, I took multiple photos!

WE ARE ALL MISSING OUT ON SOMETHING EPIC, PEOPLE!

::sigh:: Curse my faulty memory...

Poor Dogfaced George...

Back to the Drawing Board

Or sewing machine, as the case may be.

So. Less than 25 days to go before JordanCon, and I'm stupidly, inconceivably, stubbornly about to restructure an important element of my costume.

Important as in: instant signifier of character depicted. A good costume tells people who you are before they ask--there's no need for a polite inquiry, it's obvious based on the components therein (props, style of dress, colours used, etc).

And since none of these Wheel of Time characters have been depicted on screen yet (which is great--there is no canon standard to hold, we get to use our imaginations to brainstorm whatever we want and no one whines and contradicts based on what they've seen on TV), it means that as a cosplayer/costumer you need to latch on the classic elements of the character for that instant visual recognition that sparks success.

This photo doesn't represent the part that needs revamping, but it does, however, illustrate how time consuming this bad boy can sometimes be. That pic? That's part of twenty meters of ribbon pleated by hand.

Yes.

The process itself is tedious and lengthy in terms of time, and if you count that the end product is only one third of the original length of ribbon used, well, it's handy if you know exactly how much pleated trim you need before you start ironing all the gold ribbon you have in the house.

Oops.

So yeah, now I have a good two meters of hand-pleated ribbon in my costuming supplies ready for next year. I am not thrilled, as I spent the better part of three days pricking my fingers with those goddamn pins, and in the end didn't require all of it.

Again: oops.

Okay, maybe I was a little distracted by Olympic hockey at the time...

This anecdote highlights my current problem though; I spend X number of hours on something, then decide to redesign.

No, not decide. That sounds conscious...

I can't stop revisualizing my costume. My brain won't shut off at night. It worries at the issue until the figurative seams of my project begin to fray, and I want to tear it all apart and start again.

And then I can't focus on anything but getting it done get it done look at the countdown you fly out in three weeks get it dooooonnnnnne!

It's costuming season, folks. And I'm going into that contest guns blazing.

When Sharpies Attack

I believe I mentioned we have fish now.

One thing I couldn't wrap my brain around was the matter of filling the fish tank (when cleaning it) with unsullied tap water. I needed a way to ensure the bucket I was carting from the water source to the aquarium wasn't being used by Mr Lannis others for soaps or chemicals.

I give you: The Fish Bucket.

In other words: a $3 bucket with a Sharpie makeover.

Clearly the intended purpose of Sharpies—to keep husbands and kids from torturing fish with needless chemical imbalances.

Here's hoping this works...

Egg-citing

I can't take credit for my latest foray into randomosity—a friend of mine (hi, Meg!) posted a pic on FB of her colourful egg-raffiti, and I immediately thought of Mr Lannis rolling his eyes the possibilities.

What better way to remind Mr Lannis I love him than to deface his prized eggs?

::snort::

Okay, yeah, there're probably loads of more socially acceptable better ways, but I'm not a joiner, so whatevs.

And yes, I say his eggs because he's pretty much the only one in the household who eats them on a regular basis. Yes (now that Christmas baking season is over), that 2.5 dozen is all for him.

Surprise!

Now to see how long it takes him to discover the horror... shh...


UPDATE: This morning (January 22nd) there was a note saying he liked the scared eggs--so that's what... five days? Six, I think, from when I actually planted the Sharpied wonders, since it took a day or so for this post to go live. And if it weren't for the six or eight eggs in another carton that he had to use up first, I'd say we could extrapolate how long it takes Mr Lannis to go through eggs... as it stands we can only estimate, and it looks like six days equals approximately 2 dozen eggs. Oy... no wonder they're scared... ha!

Capturing a Moment

I like Scrabble.

To Mr Lannis' dismay, I don't play it much with him (no, seriously--he's bugging me all the time), but not because I don't like the game.

I'm a lazy points tallier. The really truly actual board game requires math.

Math and I? We don't play well together (heh).

Besides, I like to do fancy pants moves on the board and make three words at once just to screw with my opponent (right, Tricia? ::smirk::).

No, we haul out our Scrabble board once or twice a year if it's lucky, despite it being one of our favourite games.

I do, however, play Scrabble online--or rather, currently its counterpart Words With Friends on Facebook.

The math, she happens automatically. It's lovely.

And I'm a believer that this game is part vocabulary, part strategy, part mental altertness, and part luck of the draw--shitty letters are shitty letters. No matter what's on the board, sometimes your tiles just blow and there's nothing you can do about it.

Today's board selection made me giggle. I'm sharing, natch.

Sometimes, despite your best efforts, your tiles are booshit. Heh.

DIY Ribbon Wreath

When going through the Christmas decoration bins it occurred to me that I have a problem...

Apparently I'm addicted to buying ribbon.

Yes.

So, faced with oodles of spools of wired cream and gold ribbon, I did what any rabid avid crafter would do—grab the nearest old wire coat hanger and go to town.

And I did.

This is old ribbon that I've used and reused for years (wrapping bannisters, swirling about the tree, folding into bows for our pillars), so I'm unsure of how much I actually had, but there's at least three spools (possibly four) of 2" wide, 15' long ribbon used.

Upcycling, ahoy!

I can't stress enough how much you need to use wired ribbon. The ability to manipulate your loops is what gives you the look of lovely fullness.

Staples (and a stapler, natch), an old wire coat hanger, and copious amounts of wired ribbon is all you need to make yourself a Christmas wreath.

This is not rocket science, people. One morning after taking the kids to school I was struck with the inspiration to do this, et voilà! Using shit I had laying around and 45 (somewhat spare) minutes I magically had a new wreath.

Mind you, the ribbon hoarding helped on the availability of supplies on hand.

Step 1: Bend your coat hanger into a circle.

Note: not the actual price I paid for the ribbon. I refuse to buy it full price and always hit up clearance sales—probably why there's so much... I forget what I've squirreled away from the previous year and insist on buying more when I see a bargain.

Step 2: Bend your ribbon into 2" loops and staple them on, clumping them together and twisting the ribbon in another direction occasionally to create variety in the direction of the loops. You'll want to use plenty of loops to create a full look. And I didn't even crack out the heavy duty stapler, either—the cheapo paper thing I have kicking around the kitchen just in case was all that was necessary.

Don't get hung up on neatness. It's all hidden.

Step 3: Uh... Repeat until your coat hanger is full. That's it, peeps.

There. My cheapo crafting is done for the week. This not-so Martha Stewart has earned the chance to crack open a wine bottle and relax (heh).

A Christmas Decorating Philosophy

Last year I didn't decorate for Christmas (much), thanks to surgery being scheduled December 20th.

Yeah, it sucked.

Mostly for the kids, I think. It didn't look too much like Christmas around this house.

(This would be thanks to my micromanagement, trust issues, inability to let other people help me--I knew Mr Lannis wouldn't put away the delicate Christmas decorations to my satisfaction, so I decided it was best for our relationship, the breakables, everyone involved if I just kept things to a minimum.)

Flash forward to a year later, and our house has exploded with ribbon, lights, and merry doodads freaking everywhere.

It's almost nauseating.

Regard the nasty vinyl tablecloth. It's ugly, but its primary purpose is sacrificial--the kids can destroy it and I don't care.

Why?

Well, the more socially acceptable reason is that I'm trying to rewrite my children's memories--one day they might remember the year we didn't have many decorations out, but common things being common, they're going to remember how the house transforms (almost) every year with light up ceramics, gauzy ribbons twining bannisters, something Christmas-y every direction they look, and a cheer so infectious its insistence is borderline militant.

Ahem.

The underlying reason for the storage room vomiting forth its red and gold abundance?

Well, my Christmas decorating philosophy is pretty straightforward: overkill.

Yes. Make it so over the top that you're grateful for the chore of putting it all away come boxing week.

It's that simple.

Chompers

Under the label Weird Shit I Do Because I Can, please allow me to introduce item number 658,302,992...

I bought teeth on eBay.

Yep.

Resin teeth.

Specifically, 1 Box New Dental Super stiff many Colors Synthetic Resin Teeth...

Super stiff teeth... ::snort::

(Oh, how I love China.)

I'd have photos, but well, I'd have to drag them off the listing and ask permission of the seller, and frankly, thanks to language barriers and the muddle of translation I'm not entirely sure they'll understand why I'm asking, even if I go to the trouble of explaining that it's for a blog post, so this is (yet another of late) pic-less post.

(Photo-less posts. It's an epidemic, what can I tell you? Also: old camera isn't compatible with new laptop. High class problem, I know.)

Anyhow.

I'm so excited for my new teeth! Except that since they're coming from China, I won't actually get to play with my new teeth until sometime mid-to-end October. Meh.

I can't wait, because TEETH!

It occurs to me that this post could also go under the label Reasons Lannis Shouldn't Be Allowed Internet Access...

This is exactly the kind of screwed up shit that I enjoy dropping into random conversations with the neighbours... cross your fingers I see someone today... ::gigglesnort::


By the way, anyone know the best way to adhere these bad boys? Thinking some sort of superglue, but have yet to narrow it down... heh.