...After trying to accuse me repeatedly of being the 'ringleader' of the mess at work, TODAY my Boss finally figured it out.
She said: "You are the ONLY loyal employee here!"
...After trying to accuse me repeatedly of being the 'ringleader' of the mess at work, TODAY my Boss finally figured it out.
She said: "You are the ONLY loyal employee here!"
This is my take on the Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows jacket. The one in the movie is cut off higher around the waist, but I wanted mine to remain with tails over my hips. I may cut it off later and redo the bottom hem/border.
I added the stars; in the movie part of the neck detail is hidden by a tassled fringe silk scarf.
See? I really have been making things! *laughs*
Artful Dodger jacket I altered:
Put in side lacing to cut the sides in to fit more feminine form
and changed out the buttons from black leather sort to pewter skull buttons:
NOW it's more my size/style and I love how it's modelled after a British schoolboy's jacket, only with all the lovely embroidery of flowers/tools/skulls. "Death of a Craftsman"!
Please, share a cuppa with me as I unwind my longish tale of Why I Am Misunderstood.
I think it's pertinent to address all the various and unfair attacks upon my person, where non-persons who are Nothing Like Me continue to natter on about me as if they knew me. Of course, they do not, so I will set the record straight, no?
Clearly, my spiritual, empathetic compassion and friendly aura have encouraged jackals to gather to bite and tear. They are the liars of the internet, suckling at my bleeding heart and it aches and hurts, my loves! How I have tried to ignore them (by deleting their comments) and go on (castigating them in print) without a moment's thought to retaliating on my own behalf (because that is what my feminine wiles are for--to rope in unsuspecting men to fight my battles, carry my baggage, and to defend me in all situations as they give me their valuables)! Being as I am La Mama Nutrizione, as long-suffering and as kind, as thoughtful, and as loving as La Madonna Mia, well! You can just imagine!
One would imagine the fans should be appreciative of what I have been doing for them, for ALL I do is For Them--For The Fans! I would bleed out ale and my flesh become Yorkshire pud if I could! Why, I give out little treats to my little pets, as well as provide transportation, I sing, I danse, and I pout my widdle duckface out for them (as I remake the entire back catalogue of another band's music so that I can claim ownership of everything) while I remain as stylish as any overage nonna in my form-fitting Goth clothing, beekeeper's veil, and my ample pizza mama bosom falling out into the front rows of the fans. What else do you ingrates desire of La Mama Nutrizone, ey?!?
The fact that my personal life has tended to eclipse that of all my bandmates is nothing evil or as insulting as 'illicit'; it is only my personality is SO BIG, it cannot help but takeover everything, no? Of course! If their wives or friends get in the way, then it is only that these little people have no understanding of what their men NEED, which is my gift in life. I know precisely what they need, and as soon as (I get it in my own bank account), I will be shown to be the deliverance (and somewhat compleatly clueless as well) of this band that we all love.
The truth is, I will be in the band until I have wrung every single thing from them, because it is absolutely certain that THAT IS what The True Fans of our band want and desire! I will also continue to delete, block, cancel, and destroy anything that stands in my way, including those actions of those Never-Official Ex-Members who have walked out and quit for no good reason! It is proof-positive that they had NO ISSUES with me (so long as I bounced my titties at them) and (they were so focused on my breasts that) they never complained one bit! Things might have been a little stressed at home as I (shouted at and browbeat my current lover over and over again) every night and weekend, but now I am the happy one to say: There is no longer anything but calm and powerful peace at my home, because (he knows who rules the roost now and he has supported my creating a situation so volatile and evil that ) those Ex-Members are now GONE! Arrivederci!!!
Those of you who say it's bad to have the romance with another member of the band do not understand how nurturing (jk) and valuable that can be. Try naming me a band that was not STRENGTHENED by such a thing! The Beatles? Well, I am not Yoko. No Doubt? Gwen deserved to become solo, she is so fashionable! White Stripes? ABBA? Culture Club? Evanescence? So, okay, most of these either broke up the BAND or the RELATIONSHIP, but I am such a witch, I can make these things WORK!
So do not attempt to reason with me. You are all obviously so in love and obsessed by La Mama Nutrizione you cannot help but read and watch and listen on all your multiple accounts!
You know you love me; I am as delicious as chocolate and my purposes twice as dark! I am the SPIRIT of this band, which is so much more than just being the lead singer or a musician in it, but it means I am TRANSCENDENTALLY, METAPHYSICALLY MORE IMPORTANT THAN ANY OTHER BAND MEMBER!! Get used to it!!!
La Mama Nutrizione
While we all know looking like a rocker is meant to be a cool thing, and most bands and singers can look really, really great--you cannot presume that if you are in a band, you can get away with anything.
Especially if you are no longer 18 to 21 years old.
Back when MTV first went live, the whole idea of seeing one's favourite rock bands was TREMENDOUS...until a reformed Uriah Heep released "That's The Way That It Is". The song really was a barnstormer, the band was full of extremely talented musicians who had paid their dues in studios, in Deep Purple, Rainbow, Uriah Heep, and perhaps a handful of other bands. Great! you think. Until you SAW the video...
Bless 'em, the guys had heart. They'd all been in the music business for almost twenty years, and it SHOWED. Here's this great song, and some very obviously old men roll out in leathers and on motorcycles, several of them more than just 'portly'...and the longer MTV had them on high-rotation, the worse the record sales fell off the charts. It got so that their record company BEGGED MTV to take the video off, but the request was refused and Uriah Heep's big comeback was sabotaged by the fact that they all looked like the kids' dads...or worse, granddads. They had never noticed they weren't aging well.
Which is not to say you cannot be middle-aged or older and be in a band, but DRESS APPROPRIATELY, please! I went searching for a video of this, but because I cannot remember where I originally saw it, I cannot find it on YouTube: But it was a very obese and aged Ian Gillan squeezing his formidable frame into tight sausage-legged red leather trousers and a tiny vest...and no shirt. He was either singing as a guest or in a redux of another Deep Purple reunion kind of thing, but it was FRIGHTENING to see, if only because I expected the trews to EXPLODE before he reached the end of the song!
Please, DRESS APPROPRIATELY. If you are heavy, Spandex is not your friend. If you are obese, trying to squeeze into something 'sexy' isn't going to make it, mate. What a skinny 18-year-old can pull off becomes embarrassingly UNsexy and frighteningly awful to watch when you're 35...45...or 55...or older. Leather should not be tight on someone that old.
And if you are a woman, despite the fact that I don't think women have a place in rock music AT ALL unless they're musicians--i.e., women singers are embarrassing at all ages because they all seem to give into that urge to "act sexy", and pulling a duckface is NOT SEXY. Guys can do sexy without thinking about it, but if you have to pose, simper, or make faces, you've missed the point, gals--IF YOU ARE OLDER, YOU REALLY DO NEED TO DRESS APPROPRIATELY!!! I'm not telling you to dress like an old granny, but:
TIGHT CLOTHES = REALLY A BAD IDEA.
LOW CLEAVAGE = YOU LOOK LIKE YOU'RE TRYING TOO HARD.
SHORT SKIRTS = DO YOU NOT HAVE A MIRROR AT HOME?
POSTURING LIKE YOU'RE 18 WHEN YOU'RE CLEARLY OLD ENOUGH TO BE SOMEONE'S GRANDMUM = OMG!
And if you think the young people in your audiences aren't NOTICING that you're much too Grandmum to pull off what you're doing, THINK AGAIN. Those kids are laughing at you and telling their friends, and they'll be posting those photos to the internet, too.
Even bands who never quit and never had to 'reform' should watch it. Just watching Def Leppard live can be uncomfortable. The boys have kept themselves up, they've never stopped playing--but they're also still singing sexy songs to young girls that are younger than some of their KIDS. The girls pushing to the front row for "Pour Some Sugar on Me" are as young as they were in the 1980s, but the band IS NOT. Guys, it's creepy when during "Women" you shout: "What's that smell?!?" I mean, Rick Savage's 21-year-old daughter has sung backup with them while that was going on, and that's really sorta creepy, Sav.
Anyway, it's okay to be cool. But remember, you're not built like nor are you as young as you think you are.
Back in the early Eighties, I dearly wanted a Victorian steamer trunk. The things were pricey even then, and as little as I made at the time, it was mostly just a dream to own one.
Then, the antiques restoration shop next to where I was working had picked up one they thought they could restore--and could not. They threw it out of the building and when I asked if I could have it, they said yes.
It took two of us to lug this thing home; it was big and heavy, with one side dedicated to hanging clothing and the other with drawers for ones accessories--gloves, fans, etc. There was no key, but it was not locked, and as it was going to sit inside my house, that was fine by me.
Opening it up really told a story. It was very mildewed; frankly, it reeked! But with rubber gloves, a face mask, and all my Aquarian resolve, I ripped out all the mouldy velvet and then began a pogrom of spraying enough Lysol into it that it was soaking...day after day after day. I cannot remember how long I did that.
Once the thing could remain dry and NOT stink, I knew I had beaten the grungies living inside it. I took velvet and lined the sides and bottoms, made special drawer-sized potpourri pillows to sit in the bases of each drawer...and then I had to figure out what to do with the faces of each drawer, which were stained but would look peculiar with thick velvet glued on.
As this was the Eighties and I was in the prime of my occult life, I had purchased a huge lot of occult books from an estate, and one of the books was this one, The Mystic Test Book from 1919:
and most of the pages were variations on this:
Although a few were also dedicated to relating playing card layouts to star charts and had some spurious connection to Atlantis. Because I was a professional Tarot card reader, I didn't really need this book, but found the illos suitably "old fashioned magic" enough (in the way of magicians making women disappear in a tank of water from the Houdini period) that I cut the pages out and used them with a thick, glossy glue to laminate each of the drawers.
It was a glorious mess, and well worth it--the steamer trunk looks amazing and I created a velvet curtain with pearls sewn in to relate to the star constellations in October and put a statue of The Veiled Goddess behind it.
They do make reprints of the old book, as well as sell updated versions, believe it or not. Just sayin'.
...I suppose I have to come back here. There's not another blog-format I want to work on, I hate Dreamweaver (because it takes me away from those I DO know, and many of my friends did not migrate there). It's not as comfortable as LJ. Shite, I hate almost everything on the internet anymore!
I even have Wordpress somewhere, but those will continue to sleep (and may the ex-SigOth find them and choke on them!). But of course, nothing comes close to pissing me the fuck off as Facebook does!
But I find, even with some major friends of mine no longer on LJ, that I miss having any kind of platform. So, lucky YOU, you get to read me.
Update from The World of Greyson: I Am. *laughs* Does that make me higher than Ipsissimus after all? We used to have this in-joke that Crowley's "A-Ha!" moment came while on the crapper.
...Did I remember to say: Number 5) It's all about your cock....?
Gryphon's Rest has gotten really, really homey. I am still in the middle of The Major Cull of Woebegotten and Damnable Things...but progress is seen, space is made, and I might even take on some large projects in furniture redesign if I keep going in the direction I'm moving within.
I've almost got the variant "Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows" gypsy jacket done. I would have done two weeks ago, if I hadn't cut up my fingers so badly in the interim. But all but the sleeves and the stars to spangle my throat are done, and may be done in time for Bhealtainn...what a notion! *danses in place*
While I might have liked for my leather sleeves to be ready, too, I knew that project would take a good year and I've only just started them. They'll span my forearms from the middle of my hands to above and beyond my elbows, both embroidered with stars and handpainted with all the Celtic wildflowers that have ought to do with me, all done in a puce suede leather and gauzy lavender ribbons to lace them up.
Photos will follow soon enough; Lord knows I owe you photos of tons of things I've been making.
My first attempt at violet syrup: Passable. However, needed more violets than I could grab before sunset and a major storm. Onward!
EDIT: Oh, ignore this. LJ isn't going anywhere and while I'm not actively posting, neither have I gone elsewhere. Grey :} March 25, 2014
...My last 'thing' and then I'll bow out.
I've been watching a growing trend to condemn others for "misappropriating" the cultural ideas/designs/whatever of others. Mostly, I've been viewing it from a writing viewpoint, because many writers are starting to condemn or be condemned for writing from "other" than their own cultural viewpoint. It started with women being angry about male viewpoints about female characters (in my reading), but has spun out to start insisting "you can't write about MY people!" in many ways.
I'm wondering, at what point do we all go out and buy these books full of fictional characters that are all homogenised because the white male writer would have been condemned for writing about anything but white male characters? Or the specific gender/specific race/specific culture novel where there are NO other characters that deviate from that of the author?
Am I the only one who sees this?
There was the Pagan convention where Wiccan women who had been violated by men were upset they were being railed against for not allowing in trans-female (but not fully sexually-reassigned) Wiccans to join them in a skyclad ceremony...and the transfemales could not understand why those women raped by men would be upset seeing naked penises in their "safe space".
Whatever you want to believe, everyone is a Culture of One. This is a manifest truth, because NO ONE ELSE has the same combination of genetics/upbringing/society/gender/race/e
Now I'm seeing more and more people getting upset about Halloween and costumes, and then it extrapolates into "you can NEVER wear this, it belongs to MY PEOPLE!" as far as an item of clothing, a tattoo, a practice, or whatever.
People, people, people--and especially YOUNG people: Don't you see that it was YOUR curious explorations into EVERYTHING the world has to offer that informed and created your beliefs, your personality, and everything you are?
Are you going to start condemning the practitioners of Ásatrú because they aren't BORN Norwegian or Scandinavian? Aren't they "misappropriating" the culture?
Are you going to attack the white girl with the non-obvious black genetics because she doesn't "look" authentic enough to be involved in black culture?
Are you going to demand Occidental Buddhists stop practicing their beliefs because they've "misappropriated" those beliefs from an Oriental culture?
When do we start insisting the people can't eat Chinese food unless they're Chinese, cannot listen to rap music unless they're Black, dare not read anything written by someone not from their geographical/genetic origins, or even wear the wrong colour on the wrong day because it will offend someone else?
Do you truly advocate everyone needs to "keep to their own" and never, ever TRY anything new? Do you not realise that most people come to a mutual understanding when they SHARE THEIR CULTURES WITH ONE ANOTHER?
Seriously, this whole Politically Correct thing has gotten so far out of hand, it's ridiculous. Why not ACCEPT ONE ANOTHER and STOP JUDGING?!?!?
And I can't keep reading this kind of maniacal ranting. It makes me think less and less of my human brothers and sisters, and I WANT to believe you're all better than that.
I'm going to delete this LJ's content by Samhuinn. If you want to stay in contact with me:
greygrrl at yahoo dot com OR,
P.S. I DO come in and read friend's LJs; I'm still 'here'. Just not posting.
After some long pondering, I'm pretty sure I've figured it out.
When I first started blogging (and I started on LJ as RedEmpress), it was pretty fun. I found people I "talked" to regularly via YahooGroups plus new friends with similar interests, and people not only read what I wrote, they commented. Memes were new, postings were interesting to read for the most part (because people treated them like diary entries or news releases, putting thought into their postings), etc.
You'll notice I'm not RedEmpress anymore. Well, I AM, but I turned that blog over to a character to "speak" in, and haven't done much with it for a long time now. My first big "awakening" to creepiness on the Internet (no, it wasn't the 56-year-old goth in drag on a forklift at his job...) was when two guys I 'knew' over the course of about ten years via YahooGroups, CorpGoth, and chatrooms admitted to me they were planning on trying to "kidnap" me when I went down to Lakeland, FL to visit Sherri and Rhyo. One of them had grown up in Lakeland (which is a very small town) and the other was in Atlanta, and they were slowly putting together the information to find me and snatch me away before my two friends could pick me up. I think they really might have meant it more of "...we wanted to meet you face to face...", but they'd been too creepy about trying to get information from me and once they admitted it, I was totally creeped out. One of them had just taken a photo of arabel had posted to her own journal, zombified it, and made it the background of HIS LJ (which creeped HER out, too). We both sent them condemning emails about just how stupid, creepy, and horrible we found them, and we blocked them. I went the step further and started THIS blog as a replacement and quietly notified my friends of the change. Creepy people suck.
But I was still thrilled--as most of us still were between 2000-2008 or so--to be blogging on LJ. Other formats came and went, and I opened other blogs, but I only really posted HERE.
Then, around 2005 or 2006, the trolls really came down hard. People I barely knew, or even did not know at all, felt the NEED to come into my blog and just trash me. They'd attack me in various communities I belonged to; most of the time it seemed more like they were jealous of any attention I'd garnered here or there and wanted it for themselves rather than anything I'd done to any of them. I occasionally posted reminders about: "This is MY blog and I journal here; these are MY opinions and you don't have to agree with them, but you don't have to come in here, either." While they never 'hurt my feelings', they truly annoyed and bothered not only me, but my friends who read and regularly commented to me. Trolls suck.
Then, it was people who couldn't be bothered to BLOG anymore; they'd post all these one-liners they were Tweeting all over the net. And that's okay, but that's what Twitter is for: put your thoughtless, "I'm standing in line for Starbucks" posts over THERE. But a BLOG is meant to state things from your point of view/position in life and really should have a bit of THOUGHT behind the posts. Other than "Stuck at the laundrette; wish I had Starbucks", of course. Twitter-blather on a blog SUCKS BIGTIME.
But I think one of the BIGGEST reasons people have pulled away from blogging anymore has to be the ENTITLED WHINGING. It isn't enough to merely bemoan one's lot in life--and we all do it--but over the past three years especially, it seems like those who are whinging the most are also ANGRY and DEFYING ANYONE TO TALK TO THEM ABOUT IT. They have problems, but don't you dare offer any suggestions or help, or they'll chew your arm off. They have issues, both large and small; dire problems and petty silliness all thrown in together, and woe betide the person who might comment and not support the idea that The Blogger is The Biggest Authority On (Whatever-it-is). These blog posts are impossible to comment upon, much less take anything away from. There are days I read all this bile and shrieking about How Nubuddy Unnerstans!!!! until I feel somehow soiled. Screaming Entitled Whingers SUCK!!!
I honestly think more people understand than is believed, but the fury online is just overwhelming. Those days of people having a modicum of politeness is GONE, babies! Just gone, gone, gone! I'm still a believer in COMMUNICATION; i.e., the EXCHANGE of ideas and words and caring and all the other human stuff. I don't understand the Railing Rant At Everyone, Even Those With Empathy/Sympathy.
I'm not attacking anyone in particular; this is a general wave that has been taking over LJ for some time now. And I GET it--this is why so many people want NOTHING TO DO with blogging or LJ or any of this crap anymore. I mean, WHO WANTS TO READ THE CONSTANT ONSLAUGHT OF "YOU HAVE NO IDEA ABOUT ANY OF THIS, SO DON'T EVEN TRY TO UNDERSTAND OR BE SYMPATHETIC BECAUSE I WILL EAT YOUR FUCKING FACE OFF!!!!" ....????
How are people supposed to try to understand your point of view if you're excoriating them beyond bloody just for asking questions? For using a term "incorrectly" that is your pet term? For wanting to share something with you?
This is why people leave LJ (and other places). They're worn down from all the bitching.