Teenage Princess Persecuted By Madwoman

Micro-post #3.

Snow White

So I continued thinking about fairy-tale princesses, and what they might be like if they had been allowed to be strong women. Next on my list was Snow White. I started going through her tale, trying to make it real. Her mother died having her, and her father remarried a beautiful woman who probably ignored her most of the time. So... she would have been raised mostly by the servants, which would explain why a princess even knew how to cook and clean for a household of eight. She probably grew up sweet and well-mannered and completely ignorant. She would have been bewildered when the huntsman told her the Queen wanted her dead. The Queen had presumably not been interested in her at all until Snow White hit puberty, and then became instantly homicidally jealous (but was probably canny enough not to show that to Snow White). So you're Snow White, wandering around, making friends with servants and playing in the forest. Until one day a scary man tells you he was sent to kill you, and that he's not going to kill you, but your stepmother wants you dead and it will never be safe to go home again. So you run away and get taken in by seven bachelor miners who desperately need a housekeeper, and you're perfectly happy there. Despite the huntsman, you've never really been exposed to any danger, so when the dwarves tell you never to open the door to strangers, you promise without actually thinking about it. Of course you open the door to the nice old peddler woman and sample her apple. It doesn't actually make sense that your stepmother would be so enraged by your teenage beauty that she would not only throw you out and disown you, but then (upon finding out that her hitman had chickened out) stalk you for miles and miles, despite the fact that you clearly have no interest in deposing her, regaining your kingdom, or competing with her for the attention of men. This is because she's insane! And you, Snow White, are no heroine. Saving you doesn't actually save the world or even your kingdom. In fact, if you managed to save yourself, you'd be almost as bad a ruler as the insane Queen, because you have no training in anything but housework and are almost certainly hopelessly naive. So it's all for the best that you're going to marry the prince and let him add your kingdom to his, since it's probably the only thing keeping his father from invading already.

Sadly, Snow White is not a heroine. She's not even much of a fairy-tale princess. She's merely the final victim in a bizarre crime spree perpetrated by her stepmother. And as such, I can't really make her kick-ass. Although I'm open to suggestion if someone else can.

SemiGeekGirl really hates needlessly stripping the magic from things, as she's just done above. She realizes that she never really liked the Snow White fairy tale, but she knows that might not be true for everyone, and she apologizes.

Micro post - Labyrinth Masquerade

For more on this topic, see last year's posts. As soon as I get around to updating the tagging, anyway...

I'll do a detailed post on the awesomeness of the masquerade and what we plan to do this year, but for now I'll just give a brief summary. In the absence of a better idea, we've decided (tentatively) to do a twisted/fractured fairy tales theme with our costumes, specifically focusing on princesses/heroines. I've been trying to brainstorm, but a lot of times I end up just going around on the same thing. I did, however, have an inspiration for one princess, so I'll note it here.

Cinderella

So what if you were Cinderella - but instead of being the kind of girl who wanted nothing more than to go to the ball and marry the prince, you were a more kick-ass sort of protagonist? What exactly would you do if you no longer had to cook and clean for the step-wenches? Wouldn't you be out for revenge? Or at least out to help other oppressed young women? And most importantly, how can I tell that story without actually telling it? How can I make it into a recognizable costume?

I'm thinking, Vigilante Cinderella. Her clothing - the tattered remnants of a ball gown. The shoes, unfortunately, will have to be glass slippers. They're her most recognizable attribute, so I can't ditch them. (It's mostly unfortunate because I think that means whoever wears this one will need to purchase clear heels. And really, where are you going to use those again? Although there have been an awful lot of news articles about 'fallback careers'. Hrm.) The makeup - soot, of course, but used as guerrilla face-paint/camouflage. The weapons? A fireplace-poker-cum-rapier, and - my favorite part - mini pumpkin grenades. And, on her shoulder, to complete the picture, a pair of evil-looking sparrows for sidekicks.

SemiGeekGirl would insert an evil laugh here, but it's a skill she hasn't yet mastered. Alas.

Geeks and Ghouls and Ghosts, Oh My!

Every year at about this time, Halloween sneaks up behind me and hits me over the head with a two by four. Or possibly a baseball bat (since it comes from behind, I never get a really good look at it, obviously). Labor Day passes, the summer is ending, I'm just starting to relax and look forward to a really boring month, and then something reminds me. Halloween.

More specifically, Halloween costumes. I like Halloween and all - ghosts and vampires and creepy crawlies - but it's not my favorite holiday. It is, however, the best excuse all year to dress up in a costume. For some sad, deprived people, it's the only excuse. Luckily, at least one of my friends throws an awesome Halloween party every year, so I have somewhere to go in my costume. (Without that, I might be forced to dress up and just go grocery shopping or something. Lack of venue wouldn't actually translate to lack of costume.)

But being costumically inclined also means that I usually end up in charge of several costumes besides my own. Last year I did four costumes from the ground up and consulted on three more. This year, since I can actually sew a little, I'm looking at five. Admittedly, my sewing skills are still limited, so some pieces from each costume will be bought, not made. My parents' costumes, for the annual 'Witches and Warlocks' party, probably won't take any sewing at all: I've already got the dress my mom will wear as Endora from Bewitched, and we'll just buy the robes my dad will wear as a Hogwarts professor. We'll add a couple of touches to make it clear exactly who they are, like last year when my mom was Minerva McGonagall - a wreath of thistles for her hat, a tartan wrap, Gryffindor ribbons on her broom. But they're basically done.

The other three, though, will be considerably more work. As usual, I'm doing mine and my boyfriend's, and I think this year I'll take over one of my friend's, though I haven't told her yet. Last year her costume was pretty last minute, and I have a great idea for her this year, so I'm thinking I'll just do hers. Especially because I'm not entirely sure what I'm doing for my own yet. I have a couple of ideas, but nothing really inspired me this year like Yvaine from Stardust did last year.

At least this year if I don't come up with anything, I have things to fall back on. My Comic-Con costumes, the Masquerade Ball outfit, or my outfit for the Edwardian Ball will all do in a pinch. The same is not true of my boyfriend. Our friends have seen all of his costumes before, and with the exception of Severus Snape (made by a costumer friend of his years ago), they weren't really made well enough for multiple wearings. (I made them, often without using a sewing machine... sometimes without patterns or measurements... it's fairly miraculous they stayed on.) But this year I'm confident in my ability to make things that actually qualify as clothes. Whether or not they look like what they're supposed to is an entirely different question.

I think this year I might go old school. A lot of things are up in the air right now, and I think next year won't be the same. (Which seems profound, but upon reflection is just obvious. Oh well.) So instead of trying to do something uber-sexy and up-to-the-moment, I think this year I might go with a costume that's been rattling around in my head for a couple of years. I've got the hair for it right now, and there's a great companion costume for my boyfriend. It'll involve some purchasing, some sewing, and possibly some foam molding and shellacking.

It will be fantastic. It will be time-consuming. It will be revealed... in a later post.

Next year, can someone remind me about Halloween in August?

SemiGeekGirl's Guide to Comic-Con, Part III

Down the Rabbit-Hole

Ah, Comic-Con: the coolest place on Earth to get the migraine of your life. Don't get me wrong - the Con is one of my favorite times of year. But the exhibit floor alone is 575,701 square feet of insanity. That's about ten football fields. And that's not even counting the upstairs areas where the panels are held. Do yourself a favor and save yourself at least a little stress.

Tip #3: The Programming schedule is your Bible.

As usual, the Con schedule for this year went up barely two weeks before the event, leaving precious little time to plan - especially if you could only manage to attend for one day. (In that case, you were screwed, because all passes for Friday and Saturday - the most glittering, celeb-friendly, panel-heavy days - were already sold out.) It used to be that you could look up the schedule a couple of days in advance, figure out what you felt like attending, and wander in fifteen or twenty minutes before the panel started. As recently as 2003, I drove down to San Diego around eleven, stood in line for an hour, hour and a half max, to get a badge, then meandered upstairs to get a seat for Joss Whedon's post-Buffy panel (which was awesome, by the way). By contrast, last year I got in line for Ballroom 20 an hour before the Heroes panel, didn't make it in, stayed in line to catch the Battlestar panel and then stayed through the intervening two panels before Joss Whedon because I was afraid I wouldn't get back in if I left.

You don't necessarily have to plan where you'll be every moment - chances are it won't go exactly as you plan anyway - but you should look through the schedule and mark anything you'd be absolutely heartbroken about missing. If it's in Ballroom 20 or Hall H, plan on being there two hours early. At least. The good news is that the San Diego Convention Center reached fire-code capacity (125,000 people) last year, so it literally can't get any more crowded. The bad news is that 125,000 people is still pretty damn crowded.

A lot of the smaller panels will be less well-attended, so you might be able to just walk in a couple of minutes before they start. But in any case, know what you want to see, and - almost as importantly - know where it is. It takes a lot longer to walk from one end of the Convention Center than you think it does, and for crowd-control purposes some hallways will be one-way. There are maps posted on the Comic-Con website - they'll pass them out in the hall too, but I suggest at least scanning it before you get to San Diego.

Also, know where and when you'll meet the people you're going with. You probably won't all be in the same panels - and DON'T count on being able to save seats - but you'll want to be able to find each other afterwards, and if you don't plan ahead it could be very difficult. Don't plan to meet on the exhibit floor if you can help it - it's huge and crowded and almost impossible to navigate quickly. Better spots to meet are upstairs in the Sails Pavilion, where there are tables to sit and eat and compare swag, or upstairs on the patios/smoking areas. They have benches and usually aren't that crowded. If you do lose track of your party, make sure everyone has a phone that can send and receive text messages - cell phone calls are a huge no-no in panels, but a discreet text (with your phone on vibrate, obviously) can usually pass unnoticed.

Tip #4: The Convention is an Endurance Sport - For Spectators

It seems obvious, but I'll take a moment to go over the basics. Wear comfortable shoes. The convention floor is (as I've mentioned) huge. Your feet will hurt by the end of the convention, but you can decide how much. (Incidentally, this is one piece of advice I never follow; costumes rarely lend themselves to comfy footwear. Ah, what I sacrifice for my passionate yet useless hobby!) Other than that, you can wear pretty much anything and still not be guaranteed not to be unique. If you're not in costume, dress casually and maybe bring a jacket; the Convention Center is ferociously well air-conditioned.

Bring some water. It's always good to have some, and you can take it everywhere in the Convention Center. You might also want to carry some food. The food in the exhibit hall is basic (pizza, hamburgers, chips, and Starbucks), expensive, and not that great. It's not bad, certainly, and I always end up eating there at least once, but you might as well save your money for souvenirs. Bring things that travel well - jerky, granola bars, fruit, candy. You don't want to bring too much to carry - the swag will take care of that, but it's good to have a snack for when you're waiting in yet another line.

Bring a book or a portable video game system. There will be lines, and more lines, and while it's fun to strike up a conversation and get to know your fellow geeks, it's also nice to have something surefire to amuse yourself with.

Well, that's all for now. I am, of course, currently running around like a madwoman, finishing the last touches of costumes, doing laundry, baking brownies (not that kind), and finding all my confirmation numbers. Speaking of which, one last tip: bring your registration barcode. You do not want to get stuck in the line of people who don't have theirs and need to be looked up by hand. And pick up your badge on Wednesday (4-day passes only) if you can. There's nothing more frustrating than starting your convention experience with a two-hour wait in the hot sun (the line starts inside, but where it ends, nobody knows...), missing the first panel you wanted to see.

Good luck, fellow geeks. See you on the floor!

SemiGeekGirl’s Guide to Comic-Con, Part II

San Diego Summer

Tip #2 – Planes, Trains, and oh-so-many Automobiles
So, you’ve bought your passes, booked your hotel room (or your sleeping bag space on your buddy’s hotel room, whatever), and decided on your mode of transportation into America’s Finest City (as it has ever-so-modestly dubbed itself). I can’t really recommend modes of transportation, as I’ve lived within a hundred miles of San Diego for most of my life. I drive there.

Next, assuming you’re not one of the lucky bastards with a hotel on the Comic-Con shuttle route, is parking. While there is a limited amount of parking at the Convention Center itself, if you’re not planning on getting there at 5 or 6am, you’re probably out of luck. There are various other parking options around Downtown; many of them are mapped out on the Comic-Con website. If you’re staying at a hotel that has parking, I would advocate leaving your car there from check-in through check-out (and possibly later, if they let you). San Diego has a decent amount of reasonably-priced and convenient forms of public transportation, which I’ll explore briefly below, and if you can’t bring yourself to share personal space with that many of your fellow geeks, there are always taxis (more convenient, and only slightly more expensive than multiple parking adventures) or the somewhat creepy yet incomparably environmentally-friendly pedicabs.

Or – I know this is a radical idea for many geeks – you could always walk. San Diego’s Downtown area, which encompasses the Convention Center, Horton Plaza, the Gaslamp Quarter, and Petco Park, is actually pretty small in terms of surface area – maybe a two-mile-diameter circle. That’s two miles if you start on one edge and walk to the other. Start or end anywhere in the middle and it’s less. True, it’s a little hilly – as with most coastal cities, it slopes down to the sea – but it’s also surprisingly pretty and clean for a major city, with lots of fun restaurants and bars to pop into. And that’s before you take into account the major cheat factor that happens the weekend of Comic-Con – the wonderful, crazily convenient, absolutely free Comic-Con shuttle.

Merely wearing the current day’s badge allows all Comic-Con attendees to board any of these shuttles in any direction, for any reason. Take it from the Convention Center to your hotel, or from your hotel to your friend’s hotel, from Petco Park to Ralph’s – no one cares. True, the stops are fixed and the loops only run in one direction, but the shuttles run until midnight and can get you within a couple of blocks of almost anywhere worth going in the downtown area. It’s the ultimate shortcut; if you’re in town all weekend, it’s almost criminal stupidity not to take advantage of it. (Especially at eleven pm, after fourteen hours of carrying around ten pounds of swag in three-inch heels: it just might be the difference between a good night’s sleep and a tiny, pathetic manga fairy trading free t-shirts for a box to sleep in on the marina.)

But if the shuttle doesn’t get you quite where you need to go (its absolute radius is admittedly pretty small – if you’re not staying downtown, you’ll probably need something else to get you to your destination), San Diego also has the requisite bus system and something better – the Trolley.

Not only is the Trolley cuter and less smelly than a bus, it also goes to a number of very useful places. It's also under ten bucks for a day pass, which is definitely cheaper than a taxi, and probably cheaper than parking. Parking is free at many of the outlying (i.e., not downtown) stations. And it adjusts its routes for the weekend of Comic-Con so that more trolleys take you straight in to the Convention Center stop (directly across the street from the Center itself). More detailed information - since I'm too lazy to type it all out - can be found at their website: http://www.sdmts.com/Trolley/Comiccon.asp.

But I have costumes to work on and lists, glorious lists to make, so I'll sign off for now. The Programming schedule is finally up in its entirety, so there's a good chance part three of this guide will actually reference things that occur inside the Convention Center. Until then, geeks and geekettes!

The Party at the End of the World

Last night was the second and final night of the 2008 Labyrinth of Jareth Masquerade Ball, and it was incredible. As usual, the people from Sypher Art Studios (the organizers) outdid themselves to decorate the Henry Fonda Music Box in Hollywood and to hire amazing, otherworldly dance and music acts to grace the main stage. But the really amazing thing was the costumes people created to wear to the ball.

In this case, a picture really is worth a thousand words, so if you don't want to rely on my descriptions, you can go to Flickr.com and type in "labyrinth masquerade" for over a hundred pictures taken by various guests. But if you haven't got that kind of time, I'll list a few of the ones I liked best.

I think my personal favorites were the team of guys who were calling themselves the Ghostbusters from 1884. They had reimagined the outfits - and more impressively, the equipment - of the Ghostbusters from a steampunk point of view, and it was flawlessly done. Each guy had a detailed and bulky contraption on his back that actually did something. One flipped a switch and displayed trapped lightning in a glass tube; another continuously emitted little puffs of steam. It was original, innovative, and well-executed. Wonderful.

I was also impressed by the couple who had only a very small budget for this years costumes, and were forced to become extremely creative with the contents of their closet. (Admittedly, it was a costumer's closet, so they had some stuff to play with.) But her quasi-fantasy duchess (a hoop skirt minus the skirt - just bare hoops covered in masses of silk flowers) and his six-foot green giant (complete with fuzzy aubergine tie and greenery-covered busby) were a testament to absolute creativity (as well as the insanity of people who like to dress up).

There were also, of course, legions of gorgeous fairies, several stellar aliens, at least a shipful of pirates, and any number of creatures that defied description. Thanks to the incredible creativity of a friend of mine, we wore intricately beautiful wire-and-crystal masks colored to match our costumes, which garnered a fair amount of attention. But all in all, I was humbled by the incredible display of effort and talent everywhere I looked. I immediately vowed to start earlier and come up with something spectacular for next year.

Sadly, among all the lovely pageantry, there were a few missteps. A number of otherwise superlative costumes were diminished by their wearers' eyeglasses. I'm sorry, but if you're going to put in that kind of time and effort on a costume - especially if this is something you do even semi-regularly - you need to bite the bullet and upgrade to contacts. Maybe even just for when you're dressed up. Nothing sticks out quicker (especially at a MASKED ball) than a pair of utterly mundane spectacles. And if you can't give them up (although I really do recommend them - I've worn contacts for nine years now and the difference is amazing; no more accidentally looking around your frames), then at least work them into your costume. Steampunk is very in right now, and the Victorians had eyeglasses.

The other tragic misstep was the one that always seems to occur at events like this. I'm a big proponent of "if you've got it, flaunt it", but I'm an equally big believer in its corollary: if you don't have it, know it! There was one girl last night, who is probably quite pretty and not at all overweight in street clothes, who looked quite simply atrocious. She wore a skintight bodysuit of flesh-colored mesh, and accessorized it with a wide, tight belt that sat, unfortunately, just across her hips, cutting into her stomach and giving her a rather prominent potbelly. It was painful to look at her. It was even sadder when you consider that she could have been pretty - possibly even wildly sexy - in an outfit that flattered her assets. Instead, her outfit said "I'm deeply unattractive, and I don't have any friends to stop me from walking out of the house like this."

But tragedy aside, the ball was a rockin' good time. Toward the end, standing off to the side of the dance floor, ignoring my unhappy feet and watching the dancers, I was struck by the idea that this was what a party at the end of the world would look like. People from all different times, worlds, alternate universes, and magical places, pulled out of time and space, brought together in one room to dance and drink and party the night away until the countdown to apocalypse. And if that's anything what the end of the world looks like, I hope I'm invited.


(SemiGeekGirl's Guide to Comic-Con will continue in the next post.)

Apparently, a post without a name

I have to apologize for getting horribly behind on blogging this week. It's a terrible paradox - when I'm not doing anything, I have nothing to blog about, but when I'm busy... well, obviously, I'm busy. No time to sit down and type out my impressions of everything.

As I've mentioned before, summer is best time of year for a Geek Girl like me. Especially July - it starts with a bang and ends with a pilgrimage to Geek Mecca, Comic-Con International. But besides my Geek Girl credentials, I also happen to be a card-carrying member of the Obsessive Planning and List-Making Guild. (Just ask my boyfriend.) So not only can I tell you what I will be doing each night next week, I can tell you what I'll be doing each weekend in August. And there's a Christmas present for my boyfriend hidden deep in the linen closet.

Which can all combine for a minor meltdown around the end of June, as I consult with my mom on the annual Independence Day jamboree, finalize plans for the Labyrinth Masquerade, and work on costumes for each day of Comic-Con. As well, my job inexplicably also expects me to come to work on a regular basis during these crucial weeks, and pay attention while I'm there, despite the fact that I clearly have more interesting things to be doing.

So yesterday I ran out to look for 4th of July decorations (patriotic, but not even remotely military. I love my country but I wouldn't want anyone to think I had anything in common with our current President. I won't even buy fireworks with bellicose names. Bring on the Purple Rain, but leave the Tank Salute at the store), tried to find new horns for a costume (the ones we ordered online looked nothing like their picture), did all the grocery shopping (including $40 worth of liquor for my killer 4th of July lemonade punch), then came home and sewed costumes for six hours. Which is not nearly as impressive as it sounds. I did manage to shorten a dress, cut out all the pieces of a showgirl-style skirt, create a harness for a pair of wings, and hem and add fastenings to another dress.

Well, actually I was impressed. But I don't really count, and besides, I know people who can actually sew who could have completed all those projects in about a third of the time. It takes me half an hour just to wind a bobbin and thread the machine, and that dress that I hemmed is listed on the pattern envelope as a "1 hour dress". I've put in approximately six hours on it so far. But it is the first whole garment I've ever made and it does (miraculously) fit, so it is something of an accomplishment.

However, it's an accomplishment I'm going to need to replicate often over the next couple of weeks. I still have a lot to do. At the moment, all of my costumes are balanced on the edge: they're a little too weird to be street clothes, but they're not obviously costumes of a particular thing yet. Except for my American McGee's Alice, I guess. I cheated on that one by buying the Alice dress ready-made at Disneyland (I'm little, which is a disadvantage when I want to be anyone with boobs, but comes in handy for things like this because I can usually wear the largest size in children's clothes), and I have the wig and the boots.

But my costuming break has already dragged on too long. It's back to the sewing machine for me now. Wish me luck, and forgive my blogging distraction.

Call me in October

Ah, summer in Los Angeles. The sweltering heat, the vast majority of apartments without central air conditioning, the endless traffic and $4.60 per gallon gasoline... it's my favorite season.

Not, of course, for any of the reasons above. Summer in Los Angeles in my particular habitat consists of evenings and weekends in my stuffy apartment, wishing for air conditioning, and weekday mornings and afternoons in my subzero office cubicle, wishing air conditioning had never been invented. But since I try to block out all aspects of my job when I'm not actually doing it, and since I like my apartment well enough when I don't hate it, the weather doesn't really figure into my seasonal rankings. (Especially because, as I mentioned, I live in southern California... I've heard of seasons, but I believe they're a myth.)

But summer is heaven for geeks all across the country. I don't really understand why, actually. You'd think that people whose favorite activities almost all involve being indoors would do better in another season. Hrm... come to think of it, maybe that's exactly why - with everyone else glorying in the availability of water sports, geeks need to find new and creative reasons to stay inside. Whatever. Anyway, there are a veritable galaxy of exciting geek events in the summer. I don't have space to list them all, but I will add links to a few of the coolest... and a few I'll be attending.

http://www.renfair.com/bristol/
One of the largest Renaissance fairs in the country, the Bristol Faire runs from the Fourth of July weekend through Labor Day on the Illinois/Wisconsin border. Scotsmen, pirates, princesses and the fae mingle for your amusement, and all sorts of awesome weaponry, masks, and trinkets are for sale. Even non-geeks can have fun swilling ale and gnawing on turkey legs while marveling at the endless parade of sunburnt cleavage on display. Fun for the whole family!

http://www.bsvscenariogame.com/
This is the most fantastic idea I've heard in a long time, and only the price of jet fuel and my complete ineptitude at sports are keeping me from participating. A bunch of hardcore Firefly fans in the Midwest have decided to stage the Battle of Serenity Valley as a giant paintball game. I thought I was a Whedon freak, but clearly these people have me beat. The Browncoats might still end up the losing side, but we all know they aren't the wrong one.

http://www.labyrinthmasquerade.com/
This geek event is based on the David Bowie/Jennifer Connelly movie Labyrinth, but it's expanded into a massive geek party where everyone is required to attend in costume - or at least in formalwear and a mask. Even if you can't attend, hit the site to check out the photo galleries from the last couple years. Some people spend months creating their costumes, and it shows.

http://www.comic-con.org/cci/
Comic-Con International. I think Tom Spurgeon at The Comics Reporter sums it up pretty well in his article "Welcome to Nerd Vegas":
(http://www.comicsreporter.com/index.php/welcome_to_nerd_vegas_a_guide_to_visiting_and_enjoying_comic_con_internatio/),
but if you need more tips I intend to outline my own personal strategy (and numerous pet peeves) in a later post.

http://www.denvention3.org/
The annual Worldcon is in Denver this year, and it promises to be a great time. The guest of honor is one of my favorite authors, Lois McMaster Bujold (stop reading this blog immediately and pick up the Vorkosigan saga if you haven't already), and next year the convention is in Canada, so get there while you can.

http://www.dragoncon.org/
Admittedly, I've never been to DragonCon, but let's face it, it has an awesome name, and if I ever become independently wealthy, I'm attending every Con on the planet. This one is definitely on my list... even if I'm not sure I want to spend Labor Day weekend in Atlanta.

http://www.gencon.com/2008/indy/
It's not called "the best four days in gaming" for nothing. Every year in Indianapolis, geeks come from all over the world to buy books, cards, miniatures, and everything else associated with fanstasy games like D&D and Magic: The Gathering. It's not quite as picturesque as when it was still in Milwaukee, but if you're into RPGs it's practically a national holiday.

And there are, of course, a number of fun things to do that don't require you to get in touch with your inner geek. If you're in southern California, you might check out these:
http://www.sdfair.com/
http://www.sawdustartfestival.org/
http://www.ocfair.com/

In the meantime, celebrate the Fourth of July. Food, fun, and most importantly FIREWORKS make this my favorite holiday of the year. If it's not geeky enough for you, try holding a roman candle in each hand, and pretending you're a wizard.

Dressing Up for Grown-Ups

Buffy: It's come as you aren't night. The perfect chance for a girl to get sexy and wild with no repercussions.
Willow: Oh, I don't get wild. Wild on me equals spaz.
Buffy: Don't underestimate yourself. You've got it in you.
Buffy the Vampire Slayer 2:6, "Halloween"

They're talking about Halloween, of course, but I've always found that little exchange to be a pretty good summation of why adults put on costumes. Or at least, why I do. Come-as-you-aren't night - doesn't it sound wonderful? A chance to be a princess or an elf or a superhero, or your favorite character from television or the movies. More importantly, a chance to be somebody besides who you have to be every other day.

It's not that being me sucks so much, really. I've got great friends and good family and fun hobbies and gadgets. But I work in a cubicle in an office, Monday through Friday every week, and I go home to my sweet, stable boyfriend of almost three years. On holidays I visit my normal, still-married parents. It's a good deal: believe me, I know it. But it's hardly epic, you know?

And for the most part, that's how I like it. Epic is more often than not a synonym for tragic, and as Chris Rock puts it, the only exciting relationships are the bad ones. I tried being sexy and wild once for a couple of months, and I admit, parts of it were fun - but a lot of it seemed to consist of being broke and hungover. Plus, as much as I always wanted to be Buffy, I have to side with Willow on this one, because I'm pretty sure that wild on me does equal spaz. At least until I've had enough alcohol to relax into it.

So sometimes it's incredibly freeing to be somebody else for a while. Especially when that somebody else comes with a ready-made persona that you'd never be able to pull off in real life. I've been Buffy, Raven, Black Canary, Yvaine from Stardust, Queen Gorgo from 300, Inara from Firefly, and Darla from BtVS. Except for Yvaine (her dress was just so pretty; if only I had a gay pirate stylist!), they're all kick-ass heroines (or villains) - sarcastic and sexy with great wardrobes full of things I could never wear in real life.

Red leather pants just aren't me... except when I'm Buffy. That linen toga/shift thing Queen Gorgo wears requires more social courage than I possess (and some double-sided tape). But I pulled it off all day at Comic-Con. Because when I wear the costume, I get to channel the character, and that's a thrill I don't get every day.

So look for me at the next masquerade ball, and on the convention floor at Comic-Con. I'll be the girl with the attitude and the leather corset.

A (Gentle) Note on Geek Hygiene

I love geek guys. That's not to say that my head isn't turned by the occasional golden boy jock or exotic Persian man's man, but for the most part the guys I hang out with, the guys I date, are geeks. They can discuss the difference between DC and Marvel for hours, find immediate common ground on the Evil Dead movies, and advise me on all the finer points of Magic: The Gathering strategy.

This, of course, has its ups and its downs. While it means that I spend lazy Saturdays with the Sci-Fi channel playing atrocious, so-bad-they're-still-not-good-but-damn-they're-funny movies in the background instead of being forced to watch sports or endless repetitions of the same news on MSNBC, it also means that I am responsible for dressing everyone in the house for occasions requiring anything more formal than a Thundercats T-shirt. It means that I always have someone to play Mario Kart with, but that if I want to go dancing I'm on my own. In general, though, geek guys make good boyfriends. For the most part, they tend to be caring, attentive, funny, smart guys without a lot of ego (except when it comes to their Halo achievements and Warcraft levels, of course). Which is what makes it sad that such a large percentage of them don't have girlfriends to share their geekdom with.

It's a stereotype that geeks are pasty, overweight guys with greasy hair and a certain - less than pleasant - smell. This has been referred to gently, as well as more bluntly, on numerous blogs and even the official Comic-Con website. Sadly, as a longtime veteran of Comic-Con, I can attest to the fact that it's true oftener than I'd like. Every year, thousands of geeks converge into some very small (but extremely well air-conditioned) rooms, and as you sit in those rooms, you do notice an aroma that owes less to aftershave and deodorant than it does to sweat and stale food.

So this year, I'm making a plea to all the lonely geeks out there. Comic-Con is an endurance game, and it's unrealistic to expect that you won't sweat, or that anyone has time to run back to their hotel room and brush their teeth after meals. But please, please, please. Shower every morning (and depending on your sweat glands, possibly also every night). Put on deodorant - lots of it. (You can skip the aftershave and cologne, unless you already have a favorite scent you didn't buy at the drugstore. The last thing anyone needs is two thousand geeks in Ballroom 20 all wearing Axe body spray. The panelists would all pass out.) Bring along some breath mints, and pop one every time you even think you might be less than fresh. Honestly, guys. Don't do it for me; do it for yourselves.

Let me tell you why.

Because besides being a gathering place for comic book dealers, artists, artisans, writers, actors, and Hollywood stars, Comic-Con has what is probably the largest concentration of girls who love geeks in the entire world. And many of them are hot. This is the one place where you can pick up a girl by quoting a movie based on a video game. That babe in the chainmail would probably welcome a conversation about Warcraft. The one in the ripped neon tights and purple fairy wings almost certainly knows a lot about anime. And these girls are used to geeks in their natural habitat. They understand that a brand-new Twilight Princess t-shirt with the triforce symbol picked out in gold foil contstitutes business casual for you. They're okay with that.

And they're on vacation! While Girls Gone Wild is another unflattering stereotype, it too has its grain of truth. Hot girls away from home, on vacation, do things (and people) they might not usually consider. You could be one of those things.

The bottom line is that with very minimal effort on your part, you could drastically increase your chance of finding a girl who enjoys dressing up as your favorite superheroine/elf/Star Wars character. In bed.

Think about it.

Boots, boots, everywhere, but never the ones I need

Compared to my non-geek friends, I'm really not that into shoes. Admittedly, I probably have 30 or 35 pairs of them, but that stems more from my pathological inability to throw away things that might someday be useful for a costume than it does from any great love of shoes. (I'm not joking: just last weekend I salvaged an atrocious linen jacket from my mom's castoffs and stuck it in my boyfriend's closet, just in case someone we know ever happens to throw a Miami Vice themed party.) So I believe that my shoe collection is quite moderate, considering.

But I do, at last count, own eight pairs of boots. I ordered another pair online just now, which will bring the total to nine. The problem is that no matter how many I acquire, I never seem to have quite the style required to imitate the character I'm creating a costume of. Take the first pair, for instance. Knee-high black leather with a side zip and three-inch chunky heels, I begged my mom for them when I was seventeen and desperate to be Buffy. (If memory serves, I used to wear them with a black mini and a spaghetti-strap tank top with appliqued butterflies. Shudder.) The next two pairs didn't actually have a lot to do with costuming - apparently at nineteen I though pain was sexy. There's certainly no other excuse for the stiletto-heeled torture chambers I bought (in black leather and camel suede both, just to cover all possible outfits). But I still have them, just in case. Next came knee-high slouchy brown suede boots with stacked heels, then Italian leather boots in a rich chocolate that were secondhand and impossible to resist. Then last year I decided to dress up as Raven from Teen Titans at Comic-Con, which required low-heeled ankle boots that I found at Hot Topic. And then I found a perfect pair of Resident Evil Alice boots and decided to make a costume to go with them. The last pair (before today) were tall black leather creations wrapped in more scraps of black leather and studded. I don't know what they're for, but it's probably post-apocalyptic. Does Daryl Hannah wear boots in Blade Runner?

Despite this seemingly comprehensive collection, I still end up needing a new pair for almost every kick-ass heroine I want to dress up as. I did use the Buffy boots to be Black Canary two Halloweens ago, but that costume was basically a cop-out. (If you want to try it, all you need is boots, fishnets, a good black swimsuit, and a bolero. True, only hardcore DC fans will know who you are, but everyone will be impressed by your willingness to walk around in the outfit I've just described.) All of my other boots have yet to be reused for costume purposes.

The lack of versatility would bother me less if it wasn't for one thing: men. My boyfriend owns two pairs of boots: one black leather and medieval-style, the other brown suede and Indian-style. With just those boots, he's been Tybalt from Romeo and Juliet, an evil pirate named Rodrigo, a noble (generic) cavalier, a random masked warrior, an elemental Earth spirit, and Madmartigan from Willow. The only reason he's considering a new pair is that the sole is coming off one of the black ones, and electrical tape can only get you so far.

But today I started working on my American McGee's Alice costume, and as I looked at the images pulled up on Google, I realized with a sinking heart that her boots lace or buckle all the way up to the knee. All of mine are either too short, or zip-fastened. Pair number nine, here I come. Let's just hope I can hold off on number ten until I throw that party for the last episode of Battlestar Galactica.

Until then, I'll be working on my wig collection.

Tribulations of a Semi-Geek Girl

Or, why guys I’d never sleep with tell me I’m the perfect woman.


Seriously. It happened for the second time on Saturday night, when I was somewhat inebriated at a friend’s party, and when I sobered up Sunday I had to wonder what kind of things that said about me. It’s not like I don’t know why he said it – and before you judge, it’s not because I’m ridiculously hot. I figure most days I’m anywhere between a six and an eight on a scale of ten, and I’m pretty sure that drops all the way down to three or so when I’m sick or you know, really not trying. But anyway, I’m probably cute enough, depending on your particular preferences. Since I live in L.A., slightly-prettier-than-average doesn't usually get me too far.

But the reason my friend’s semi-harmless new subletter called me the perfect woman was only about fifty percent based on my appearance. (I hope; obviously, I can’t read his mind, and my blouse was semi-sheer that night.) It was mostly because I’m a Geek Girl.


Now, I’m hardly the poster girl for the category: I’m only an indifferent gamer and my knowledge of anime is nearly nonexistent. But I can nevertheless discuss the finer points of the Xbox 360, PS3, Wii, and DS, kick some koopa butt at Mario Kart Wii, and reel off some of the incredibly complicated plots of the Metal Gear Solid franchise. I was in fact kicking butt at Mario Kart and discussing the relative merits of Rock Band on the different platforms simultaneously when he hung the epithet on me. (This multi-tasking undoubtedly seemed more impressive at the time, as the rest of the party was several drinks ahead of me.)


So anyway, I happened to mention that I was considering blowing my entire economic stimulus payment on an Xbox 360 and Rock Band package, and he suddenly looked both amused and raptly interested. I shrugged off both as I went on to win the kart race. After everyone gave up on video games to concentrate on more serious drinking, he continued to follow me around telling me how pretty I was and asking for my number despite the umpteen times I'd mentioned my boyfriend. (If that sounds endearing, it wasn't - I'm pretty sure that without alcohol it would have been beyond irritating.) Eventually I ditched him, called my boyfriend for a ride, and went home.


But the next morning I remembered him, looking goofy and vaguely mulish, saying, "Wow. You might just be the perfect woman." Leaving aside the relative laxity of his standards (he'd known me for all of twenty-five minutes at that point), I was struck by it because nearly the exact same thing had happened to me a couple of years before, when I picked up on a Venture Bros. reference dropped into conversation by the assistant manager at the bookstore I worked for. (He might actually have thought I was perfect for him; unfortunately, his pop culture qualifications were the most attractive thing about him. I ran into him last year at Comic-Con, setting out water for a panel that included Joss Whedon, and for a moment almost wished I'd dated him so he could introduce me.)


It seems that enjoying comic books, science fiction, video games, and being a reasonably attractive (or possibly just recognizably female) girl will get you your pick of a wide swath of geeks these days. Which is not a bad thing, of course. I love geeks (disclaimer: I live with one), and I'm happy to say that they're coming up in the world. Movie studios and television networks seem to finally be catching on to the fact that geeks are people too - better yet, they tend to be college-educated, literate people. Or, as media executives see it, people with disposable income.

But for the moment, Geek Girls still seem to be a rare and almost mythical breed, widely rumored but rarely seen in person. Several of my friends still shudder at being called "science fiction fans", and the rest would still rather go bar hopping than spend a long evening playing D&D. I'm afraid that this scarcity won't last, though - every year I see more girls at Comic-Con, and shows like Buffy the Vampire Slayer and the new Battlestar Galactica are steadily reeling in new female fans. All I can say is, enjoy it while it lasts, Geek Girls. Soon, just wandering into a comic book store and striking up a conversation about the latest Uncanny X-Men won't be enough to get you a date.

Wearing those thigh-high leather boots might help, though.