Being a Vampire Bride Doesn't Make You a Succubus

So, I have a confession to make.

I'm a girly girl.  I'm not sure exactly when it happened--as a child I was wild and rambunctious.  My mom kept my hair short because I wouldn't sit still long enough to have it combed.  I played with legos and only had about four Barbie dolls my entire childhood.  I hung out with my older brother a lot, and had no idea how to put makeup on until I was 18.  I've never thought of myself as a girly girl, which is why I'm always puzzled that the job I once had at Vavoline surprises people more than the job I had working at a beauty supply store.  (Seriously, I can barely style my own hair.  And when I dye it it's always patchy.)

But something happened.  Maybe it was giving into my Hello Kitty obsession, or maybe it was the way my husband encouraged it, but I now have bizarre tableaus like these throughout my house:

 

You'll note that not only have I styled its hair, but that's also a new My Little Pony.  Not one saved from my childhood.

 

 I Dream of Jeannie, Dexter, and Computer Engineer Barbie.

The blue blob is a waterbear.  Of course, I guess the retro release of Soundwave on my nightstand might reduce the girliness of the unicorns.  But not much.

And I occasionally dabble in romance novels.  Please don't judge.  This is hard to admit.  I don't buy them at work because I'm afraid my coworkers will see.  You see, I am a sucker for a cheesy tag line, and even cheesier titles.  And there is nothing as cheesy as a romance novel cover.  Nothing.

I own all eight books in this series.  Here's the setup for the first book. (thanks amazon!)

Eight brothers, born in four sets of twins, two years apart to the day-they fulfill the Curse of Eight Prophecy. To avoid tempting their destiny, the brothers are exiled to Nightfall Island, a land where women are strictly forbidden. But, when the youngest of the mage-brothers rescues a woman from another universe, their world is altered forever.

Each brother has a verse of the prophecy.  The first one's involves the phrase "when sword in sheath is claimed by maid."  Did I mention that the first brother is the sword?


But this is pretty tame compared to most romance novels, although they do have many things in common--handsome shirtless man on the cover, blatantly suggestive text, questionable logic.  And that last one is where my latest acquisition is comes in.

 

The best part is the tagline on the front cover.  Here, have a close up.

A bit blurry, I know, but, "She's tarnished his halo"?!  How can I pass this up?!  And then I look at the description.

"Living as a succubus has a bit of a learning curve, but with sexy fallen angel Noah to scratch her sensual Itch, Jackie Brighton is finally starting to feel ahead of the game. She almost doesn’t miss her gorgeous vampire master Zane—or his sinful, teasing mouth."

Aside from the fact that "itch" is capitalized, why does a succubus have a vampire master?  My husband pointed this out.  If you have a vampire master, that doesn't make you a succubus, it makes you a minion.  So, right off the bat we have a problem here.  I was willing to suspend belief until my husband brought this to my attention.  So, now I'm going to spend the entire time I read it wondering, "How does a succubus have a vampire master?"  Did she acquire him after leaving Hell?  Or did she become a succubus to get away from him?  Oh, I know!  Maybe she was assigned to him to drain his life force and fell in love.  This is in the middle of a series.  And that's totally how things work in the romance world (as Japanese hentai has taught us, all rape becomes consensual if it goes on long enough).  But if that were the case, why'd she leave him?  Is the fallen angel better in bed?  Probably not, I mean the copy kind of implies that the vampire gave good oral.  Or maybe the fallen angel is encouraging her to be a better person and not fuck men to death.  I don't know.  But that's why I bought the book.  Hopefully all will be illuminated, because otherwise I'll have to get the first two books in the series, which means fewer ponies and unicorns.

Adventures in Bobbin Lace

Those of you who know me may be aware of my insatiable thirst for knowledge and my recent obsession with lace making.  While I have dabbled with several kinds of lace, the technique of bobbin lace has eluded me for about two years now.

But no more! 

I felt like the time was coming that it would finally make sense, sat down with my pillow and bobbins and it just clicked.  And I don't mean the sound the bobbins make when you work.
Behold, my first successful sampler!

Go me!  So, having gotten a palatable sampler out, I decided to forge ahead and try an actual edging.  But because I really don't care for the really skinny thread that's traditional for bobbin lace (and that I used in my sampler), I'm using a thicker silk needlepoint thread.  Here's some in progress pics:

 Here's a close up of the actual work. 

And here's what a piece looks like on the pillow, for those of you who have no idea what I'm talking about.  Basically you twist and cross the bobbins around each other (this is one occasion it's okay to cross the streams), and then you pin the resulting twists in place and when you're done you pull out all the pins and it magically stays together.  I'm definitely not great at this yet, but it's nice to finally have it make sense.  This is also the closest thing to a woven lace the lace making community currently acknowledges, and, indeed many lace books will actually consider it a woven lace, in spite of the fact that the structure is more intertwined than woven.  It's also by far the most popular form of lace making today.  A look at I.O.L.I.'s membership handbook shows that almost everyone in it does bobbin lace, with tatting as a close second.  Personally, I don't intend to stop here--I do plan on continuing my studies in all lace types, because it's important that these beautiful techniques not be lost forever.  Most of the current lace makers are significantly older than myself--many of the "younger ones" are still in their upper forties and fifties.

Sorry about kind of getting up on my soap box today, but I think it's important that some things get passed on to later generations.  I'm not saying we need to all start making our own fabric and clothes, or churn our own butter, but some of us should know how to do this so we have an appreciation for the technology and foreign laborers who make it possible for us to go to the store and buy ready made clothing off the rack. 

Also, when the zombie invasion or Captain Tripps finally happens, at least then the survivors won't be totally screwed when the power plants shut down and trade routes get blocked.

An Army of Invisible Cats

So, I have begun to come to a few conclusions about my darling readers and have a proposal for you.  I know you exist for three excellent reasons.
1) My self esteem is too low to imagine you don't.
2) My ego is too large to imagine that no one is reading.
3) The voices in my head are never wrong.
Now, there are several conclusions that I can make from this.  Firstly, you are all lurkers, since you read and never post comments.  That's cool, I tend to be a lurker myself.  Secondly, because I have never seen you, you must be invisible.  And, finally, because this is the internet and the internet is made of cats, you are all felines.  We can even take this a step further and say that you are all male felines, since everyone knows there are no girls on the internet.  Therefore, my readership consists of lurking invisible male cats.
And for those who doubt me, I'd like to present my evidence.

Urban Dictionary definition of lurker

And of course, the rules of the internet.  Rule 16 is the one pertinent to my argument.

So, that said, darling invisible cats, I would like to make a proposal.  I have plans to take over Antarctica, and I'd love to have an army of invisible cats help me do it.  Why Antarctica you ask?  But it's freezing cold!  you say.  Rest assured, my plan has been well thought out.  I had initially considered Australia, but there's all those people and I think they have a military and navy and what not.  Plus it was founded by convicts.  Is that really what we want to fight with?  Of course not.  Antarctica, on the other hand is populated by a few scientists, a bunch of penguins, seals, and apparently colossal squids.  I believe the latter can be persuaded to our cause and used to prevent naval based attacks.  Once we have booted all the scientists off the continent, we can then construct our domes.  Yes, due to the harsh conditions and the hole in the ozone layer above it, we shall live in domes.  The initial domes will be in the coastal regions, and we'll move inward as we build our supply chains and fishing technologies.  Then, once we have firmly ensconced ourselves in the southernmost continent, we shall move northward to conquer the rest of the world, who will have no defenses against colossal squid and invisible cats.  Who's with me?!

Silence will be taken as a solemn vow to join my army of invisible cats and to take over Antarctica.

Puttering In the Studio

I like to refer to my work in the studio as puttering.  I'll do a little bit of this, and little bit of that, and pretty much just putter around.  Somehow, projects get finished.  Sometimes it's the big projects (like the placemats I'm working on), but if nothing else I'll usually get one or two throw away projects done.  And by throw away I don't mean trashy or crappy, but just little things that don't take long to do. 
Like this:

Behold, my fabulous dice bracelet and earrings.  Made from real dice, not beads in the shape of dice.  I broke two drill bits on these things, and also managed to stab myself with one.  There was blood.  It hurt a lot.  And I inadvertently flipped people off for a couple days, since it was my middle finger.  I picked up the dice at my husband's shop (Amazing Wonders Gaming and Hobby Center) and with some wire and superglue the rest was born.  I did discover yesterday that I made the bracelet one die too long, but that's nothing a pair of pliers won't fix.

The Wonders of Technology

So, as many of you know, the best father-in-law in the world got me a new car for Christmas.  This has been quite exciting for me, as the old car was a twenty year Buick.  I'd include a picture, but, honestly, it's dark out and the snow covering it makes it look much better than it actually does, anyway.  Just picture, if you will, a 1990 Buick Skylark that's still mostly light blue, with patches of rust on the body around the back tires, the clear coat peeling off the trunk and hood, and various primer and rust colored spots all over.  It's an old car, with lots of character.  In most cases that would mean I have to stand on one leg, turn the crank, cross my eyes and kick it just right to keep it running, but it was actually (and I guess still is) a surprisingly reliable car (except for those two years in undergrad when it broke down every six months).  However, even the best old car still has those odd little quirks.

The new car, for the most part, is almost quirkless.  I no longer have to turn the left turn signal off manually, the dome light (and trunk light, for that matter) works, it has power locks and power windows, ABS brakes, airbags, and even this spiffy little thing that tells me how many miles I can drive until my gas tank is empty.  It even has air conditioning, not that I need it in the middle of January, but it works.  It also has a remote, which I find endlessly amusing.

This is actually pretty close to the expression on my face every time I hit the button to unlock or lock the doors.  Sheer, unadulterated joy and excitement.

So, what, you might be wondering is the downside of this wonderful example of modern engineering?  This amazing vehicle that I can even plug my ipod straight into and then use voice commands to tell it what to play?

The voice command system.

I realize that this complaint makes me look like an ungrateful, horrible person.  And I am truly grateful to have a new vehicle that I don't think, "Is this the last day?" about every time I get in it.  At the same time, Beulah (for so I have christened my new car) seems to have some trouble understanding what I say.  Most of the time she's okay, and can guess what I'm asking for in one or two tries.  I realize I have a weird accent (think northern and southern at the same time) and perhaps I'm simply not speaking clearly enough.  She also seems to be extra cranky when it's really cold.  However, the difficulty I've had getting her to play music by one particular group is starting to make me wonder if perhaps the car is exercising a veto right over my taste in music.  She refuses to understand the command, "play artist Rammstein."  Now, I will say, she tries, but the last time I gave this command, she responded with the following:

"Say one after the tone for play artist Rammstein.
"Say two after the tone for play artist Maroon 5."

Obviously, after the tone I said one, but at the same time...how the heck do you get "Maroon 5" out of "Rammstein?"
Not only do the words not sound anything alike, but neither do the bands.  In fact, I would go so far as to say the only thing they have in common is that both are somehow in my ipod.


Rammstein, Haifisch

  

Angry German industrial, video of lead singer's funeral where the band starts a fist fight. (This is relatively tame as their videos go).

 Maroon 5, She Will Be Loved

Sad pop song about some girl in an abusive relationship with appropriate video (I'm assuming here, I couldn't actually sit through it all).

Not saying anything bad about Maroon 5, but come on, Beulah!  Really?  Of course, at least she'll play the band.  Individual albums have had mixed but mostly bad luck.  Sehnsucht?  Refuses to play it.  All she'll do is Sunde by Eisbrecher.  At least that's closer, but still.  "Play album Reise, Reise" gave me options between Enter by Within Temptation, Americana by Offspring, and American Idiot by Green Day.  Really?  Really?! 

And we could just say, well, it's an American car, of course it's not going to speak German very well.  I realize this.  But it has no problem with the other German band I listen to, Eisbrecher.  Her pronunciation is off, but she'll play them with almost no trouble.  I can pick my album, even my track.  Maybe it's where they're more techno, less metal, I don't know, but the way she seems to specifically deny my requests for Rammstein makes me wonder if there's something more sinister afoot.  Is there some sort of bizarre conspiracy?  Or just an innocent technological glitch?
It's all okay, though.  I have a fabulous new car, one that I picked out myself, and if that's the only thing I have to complain about, Beulah and I will have a very long and happy relationship.



But I still can't help but think that if she were a Volkswagen she'd understand me perfectly.

What's Going On In the Studio

So, I figure in between bizarre dreams and snarky rants I'll try to post some updates of what I'm working on in my spare time.  I'm hoping this might actually help motivate me to work on my various projects a little more, and it'll show those of you who care the glorious new objects being created.  That, and I feel this weird compulsion to post crap to the internets for all to see lately.

That said, here's what's on the loom right now:

Exciting, huh?  These are my Christmas present for my brother and his totally awesome wife--a set of placemats.  The weave structure is a pattern I designed myself, based on the family name.  Bad things happened with warp tension (worse than what's going on right now) and I kinda had to lop off some warp, hence the delay.  Here's hoping I have enough yarn.

This guy wound up coming off in the whole warp fiasco, so you can get a better idea of the finished product.  The purple yarn at the edge is just a header and will be coming off.  The ends will still be fringed.  The pictures don't really do it justice because the color is off on my phone's camera.  The blue yarn in the background is actually the weft yarn, and the green yarn next to it is for placemats for Mom.

There are other projects going on right now, of course, but they're not in a state interesting enough to bother posting.  I'll try to post pics later on--I'm terrible at documenting my work, so maybe this will inspire some good habits.

Probably a Bad Idea.... (or, sleep is a mixed blessing)

So the other night I had this dream where I was part of a small group of survivors and we had to perform a magic ritual to transport ourselves to the realm of the Dark Lord Azathoth so we could defeat him on his own turf and save the world.

Saving the world is a common theme in my nightly adventures, btw. That, and fleeing in terror from God knows what.

Anyway, I was the only one who could perform the magic ritual, so I made the magic circle and drew the magic glyph and POOF!  There we were, in the realm of the Dark Lord Azathoth.

For those of you unfamiliar with Azathoth, Lovecraft describes him as follows:
"[O]utside the ordered universe [is] that amorphous blight of nethermost confusion which blasphemes and bubbles at the center of all infinity—the boundless daemon sultan Azathoth, whose name no lips dare speak aloud, and who gnaws hungrily in inconceivable, unlighted chambers beyond time and space amidst the muffled, maddening beating of vile drums and the thin monotonous whine of accursed flutes."
Yeah, that battle is going to go real well.

Anyway, as dream logic goes we find ourselves fighting against another faction of human beings.  About what?  Who knows?  Why?  Who cares?  They are the enemy!  They must be defeated!  So I come up with this brilliant plan to lead them to this spot behind some buildings overlooking a large drop off.  I lead the effort and trick them into position, where they are promptly massacred. Once I see the carnage and bloodshed I drop to the floor in horror, crying, "What have I done?" in a manner worthy of an Oscar.  The rest of my party looks askance for a moment, then runs off to play in the blood spattered snow, gleefully unaware of the body parts lying about.  Once I've calmed down a bit, I say, "Fuck this, we're going home." and begin drawing out the circle and appropriate glyph to return to earth.

And then I wake up and have to pee.  The end.

Not really, though, because I still remembered the glyph to get to Azathoth's realm when I woke up.  Here it is if you'd like to go.

Maybe you'll have better luck saving the world. 



Thank you, wikipedia for your wonderful insights on Azathoth.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Azathoth