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?

(Somewhat belated) Comic-Con Wrap-up

We went, we saw, we were exhausted.

Actually, we did pretty well this year. Having had several years' experience to learn what is and is not possible at Comic-Con, my boyfriend and I managed to maintain some Zen over the weekend. Which is to say I freaked out over non-essentials only three times, my boyfriend only expressed the wish to kill about ten people with his bare hands, and we managed to settle our one major quarrel with a solution acceptable to all of us (he stayed in room 6CDEF to watch Mutant Wars, and I trekked up Fifth Street to meet our friends at an Irish pub; everyone was happier that way).

As usual, the Convention Center was filled to capacity; walking from room to room was often the most frustrating part, unless you tried to walk around on the exhibition floor, which was worse. I still got into every panel I actually stood in line for, though I did give up on Heroes before I even got to the Convention Center that morning, and we skipped the screening of Doctor Horrible's Singalong Blog when we heard that they'd closed the line for it three hours before it started (in retrospect, I'm not sure that was true, but we'd already seen it anyway and we were tired after watching The Next Avengers movie, so we headed back to the hotel).

Of the panels I did see, the Dr. Horrible one - featuring Joss Whedon, Neil Patrick Harris, Nathan Fillion, Felicia Day, Simon Helberg, Jed and Zach Whedon, and Melissa Tancharoen - was definitely the highlight of the convention. It was pretty much a "you had to be there" kind of thing, although I will say that NPH and Nathan Fillion were unremittingly hilarious. I laughed almost the entire time. I think somebody posted the whole thing on YouTube if you want to look for it, but really - you had to be there. And I will never think about Twittering the same way again.

The lowlight would have to be the Twilight panel. I admit that I haven't read the books, but several of my friends enjoyed them, and the excerpt I read on Amazon seemed intriguing. Also, the movie has been getting a decent amount of buzz in geek circles, and I wanted to get in on the ground floor. So I got in line about an hour before the panel started, with a few thousand fans. Honestly, I wasn't sure I'd make it in, but it didn't turn out to be a problem. Once in, I found myself surrounded by tween girls and middle-aged women, all of whom seemed to labor under the misapprehension that this was the first time anyone had ever been so devoted a fan of anything. (Harry Potter, anyone? Lord of the Rings? The original fandom - Trekkies? Wearing a "Team Edward" t-shirt does not require the same level of commitment as joining Vader's Fist, little girl. I don't care how much you loved the books.) Sadly, the fans were not the low point. That honor belonged to the panelists. Catherine Hardwicke, erstwhile director of such hard-edged fare as Thirteen, giggled nearly as much as her cast. Kristen Stewart, playing Bella, was more interested in speaking sotto voce to her castmates than in answering questions into the microphone. Robert Pattinson, playing Edward, appeared tongue-tied for most of it, stalling for time by running his hand through his absurdly cut, longish hair. Every time he did this (ten at least), eighty percent of the room screamed and swooned. When there was a brief lull in audience questions, the moderator said "Any more questions?" and a woman in the row behind me muttered, "Yes. Are you all drunk?" It was the wittiest sentence spoken in the panel. They showed footage (the climactic vampire battle in a dance studio, a fourteen-year-old girl told me later); it was slow and uninspired. All in all - thumbs down. I know the tweens will vilify me (the fourteen-year-old did; I placated her with my free double-sided Twilight poster), but honestly, it looked like schlock. And I hear that the final book, which came out a week later, has disappointed many with its decidedly unfeminist conclusion. I hate to appear (openly) prejudiced, but I have to say I always had my doubts about a vampire series written by a Mormon housewife. Go watch some Buffy, little girls. Or at least read Interview with a Vampire. It may be schlock, but at least it's intricate, philosophical schlock.

I also saw the panel for Dollhouse panel, in which Eliza Dushku flirted shamelessly with Tahmoh Penikett and talked about hunting. Funny, but not as funny as Dr. Horrible. Battlestar Galactica showed some kickass footage and also boasted a good-natured, intelligent cast (best line, James Callis: "I had to think, is it possible for someone to be a deeply spiritual person and at the same time a raging nymphomaniac? And the answer is, yes.") Sadly, Jamie Bamber is the only man I've ever seen made LESS sexy by an English accent. Weird, huh? The Watchmen panel was thoughtful and interesting, with each of the actors talking expressively about the motivations for their characters - I have high hopes. The Spirit panel managed to be informative and intelligent without actually telling me what the plot is, which was confusing. Although Samuel L. Jackson was unsurprisingly brilliant (best line: "When I was growing up, Nick Fury was a white guy. It just goes to show that in America you CAN be anything you want to be. You too can grow up to be a black man").

And there was more. We missed the Masquerade (third year in a row. Damnit, I am going to that next year!), but I caught most of the replay the next day. More on that in a later post. We managed not to eat dinner in the convention hall at all - turns out there's a restaurant in the Marriott next door. Only a couple of bucks more expensive, and way better food. I donated blood as usual, and was excited to find out my blood type (weirdly, none of my doctors ever mentioned it). I am the deeply rare AB negative, which I think is cool, although I can't really explain why. I guess I just like feeling special. I got swag and more swag. (I've now consolidated it to one small corner of my bedroom. Anyone desperate for a limited-edition Chief Tyrol BSG action figure that looks uncannily like Forrest DeWitt should make me an offer.)

And then we returned to our non-insane real lives. I want to go back now. Two weeks of living in the real world (and attending my real job) have depressed me. But I forge on nonetheless.

Next task: finding a hotel for next year!

(All quotes are from the best of my memory and should not be considered verbatim. I took a notebook, but I mostly doodled in it. So sue me. You want news, try CNN.)

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!

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.)

SemiGeekGirl's Guide to Comic-Con, Part I

Adventures in Obsessive Planning

So I knew I had a problem today when I found myself fervently wishing that Comic-Con was next week (instead of two weeks from yesterday). While that might sound normal enough, I realized that the reason I wished it was next week was not so that I could go to it sooner, but instead because that would mean that the Con programming schedule would be posted on the web already. That's right - I was not looking forward to the convention itself as much as I was looking forward to planning my schedule. (I should probably be more concerned about this obvious slide toward insanity, but that would mean taking time from the preparation lists I'm making for Comic-Con. I'll worry about it later.)

I've been haunting the CCI website all week, waiting for the schedule, since the site promised it would be up "ten days to two weeks" before the event. Well, two weeks was technically yesterday, but nothing is up yet. (Update: even as I was writing this, the schedule for Thursday 7/24 was posted. Which is great but also odd, as I can't remember them ever posting the schedules in a piecemeal fashion before. Maybe they're just trying to spread out web traffic so us geeks don't crash their site.) I've even lowered myself to searching out rumor sites and gossip blogs, with some decent results - a couple places had leaked schedules for Thursday AND Friday. But this was something of a fruitless enterprise for me, as the leaked information was of course "unconfirmed", which is too uncertain for me to build rock-solid plans on. Obsessive compulsiveness aside, it seemed like the perfect time to start my unofficial, deeply biased, guide to Comic-Con. Because how else can I distract myself until the schedule goes up?

Tip #1: An Amalgamation of Quite Useless Advice

Unfortunately, most of the best, most common-sense advice I have to dispense about the Con is already out of date. This is because a great deal of it can be summed up in two obvious words: PLAN AHEAD. Buy your passes to the Con as far in advance as possible. I bought my 4-day pass at last year's Con for the bargain price of $50. Online, 4-day passes went for $75. If you missed getting one before they sold out, you could still buy a pass for each individual day (though you missed out on the bonus time of Preview Night), for a combined total of $110. At this point, individual passes for both Saturday 7/26 and Friday 7/25 are also sold out, so if you still desperately need a pass, eBay is pretty much your only hope. Last I checked, 4-day passes were going for up to $455, which is NINE TIMES as much as I paid. So buy your passes early if you want to get in. As of this year they were still transferrable by notifying the Con, so even if by some chance you couldn't use it, you could give it to a friend (or, clearly, scalp it on eBay). This is the first year where selling out has been this much of a problem, so I'm not sure the transfer-policy will remain so generous. On the other hand, CCI is a non-profit organization, so maybe it will.

A corollary to this tip is: book your hotel room early. As in, possibly a year in advance and certainly before Christmas. While Comic-Con does negotiate with area hotels to provide a block of surprisingly reasonably-priced rooms for convention attendees, there are only approximately 6,100 of them. For 125,000 attendees. You do the math. Hotel occupancy for the weekend of Comic-Con is 94% for the City of San Diego, and most hotels raise their rates accordingly. You have a better chance of getting a lower rate the sooner you make a reservation. Many people make their reservations while attending the convention the year before. This year, I was foolish enough to try and wait to get a room through the Con. Their room block opened up on February 9 at 9am PST. The site stalled/crashed almost immediately, as more people than there were rooms available logged on within the first five seconds. Needless to say, I did not get a room. By the time I was offered one, the only ones left were either very far from the convention center or out of my price range. After a week of frantic searching, I got a room through AAA, at the same hotel I stayed at last year. For twice the price. This year, I will consider myself a failure if I don't have a room by September. The only good part about it is that most hotels will let you cancel without penalty until just a couple of days before your reservation, so if you find something better, or decide not to go at all, you won't be out any money.

Well, I'm sorry this tip wasn't more helpful, but it was important. I had thought to include more than one tip per post, but this one dragged on for a very long time, and the costumes beckon. Stay tuned tomorrow for updates on the programming schedule, my descent into neurotic madness befitting a Woody Allen movie, and tips you might actually appreciate for Comic-Con 2008!

Fireworks Frenzy

I spent the 4th of July as I always do. In the morning I arrived at my grandparents' house and proceeded to bicker with my dad about what still needed to be done. My boyfriend retreated to a corner with his book and tried to ignore my loving yet lunatic family. Around noon, a couple of my cousins came over to hang out and ignore the heat and all the setting up that still needed to be done. After they left, I remembered that people would be arriving in mere hours and returned to pestering my dad to work faster. When he finished the things he promised my mom he'd do, we jumped in his truck to go buy fireworks.

To buy the rest of the fireworks, that is. We already had a couple hundred dollars' worth, left over from last year and brought back from various trips, but it's a tradition that we buy new fireworks on the 4th every year. Also, another one of my cousins was on a softball team that was running one of the stands; we had to go support them. So we drove around town for an hour and a half, stopping at three fireworks stands, the bank, a liquor store, and a grocery store.

When we returned it was really crunch time. My dad went to set up the barbecue, and I rousted my long-suffering boyfriend out of his peaceful corner to help me sort and put up the three boxes of red white and blue decorations. He's used to the insanity that overtakes me on the 4th (did I mention the red-white-and-blue bejeweled tiara I wore all day to top off my firework-patterned sundress?), so he was accepting if not enthusiastic. Bunting and paper bells and pinwheel garlands on the porch, bows on stakes in the garden, a miniature flag for one of the gnomes. Banners around the portable canopy, patriotic tablecloths, star-spray centerpieces, flag-patterned plates and napkins. An hour later, the house was festooned in decorations and I was covered in sweat, shoving all the extra crap into a box in the guest room. My mom and grandma had put out tasty snacks, and (miracle of miracles) my perpetually late friend arrived early, ahead of all the other guests.

Soon, everyone had arrived, and I snuck out with a friend to obtain the traditional surprise finale firework. (Every year, I run out without my dad to buy one big-ass firework, which I then hide until just before the end. Then I present it to him and he lights the finale. He knows I'm doing it, of course, but, like gifts labeled "Santa" in my dad's handwriting, we pretend it's a mystery.) When we got back the delicious food was ready, and everyone stuffed themselves on hamburgers, hot dogs, potato salad, corn on the cob, green salad, chips and dip, and cheesecake bars. My dad made strawberry daiquiris and I whipped up my lemonade punch (4 ingredients - three are alcohol and one is lemonade). After dinner, I left everyone chatting and slipped inside to prep all the fuses before it got dark.

Then, finally, it was showtime. We started with the traditional round of sparklers. We were lucky enough to have some of the old, no longer sold, metal sparklers left, as well as the new "safer" variety. Interestingly, the metal ones proved not only prettier but also less dangerous than the new ones, as they were more predictable and went out promptly when their sparks were used up, rather than smoldering ominously. "Safe and sane" my butt! Then we lit the Friendship Pagoda, which we keep as a souvenir all year. After that it was a free-for-all. Pink Diamonds, Killer Bees, Crackling Cactus, Purple Rain, The Sizzler, Pharaoh's Treasure, Monster Parade. My friend busied herself braiding long thin fireworks called Crack the Whip and filling the interstices with Ground Blooms and Crazy Eyeballs. Her husband threw Jumping Jacks until one whizzed past my ear and I noticed. I explained that only COMPLETE MORONS throw lit fireworks, and he stopped. For a while.

I ran in and out of the house, fetching new fireworks and marshaling people to light them. I missed some and watched others. I danced in the middle of the street holding a 3-foot giant sparkler in each hand. Throughout, I worried about whether everyone else was having enough fun even as I enjoyed myself. And then it was time for the finale. I retrieved the final firework - a half-kilogram monstrosity called 3 Ring Circus - and presented it to my dad. I looked at the audience gathered in lawn chairs on the lawn. Miraculously, a seat was open in the very center of the front row. I dropped into it and watched the finale live up to its name.

And for about two minutes I ceased to worry about anything.

I love the 4th of July.

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.