Does it make me a bad person that I am seriously considering buying D and T customized American Girl dolls for their 8th birthday? (They are both under 3 at the moment...) And the best, most amazing lego gear set for Z?

SPOIL SPOIL SPOIL

Bwa ha ha.

Rest in Peace, Miss Moneypenny.

You will be missed.

This is so the time of year when time seems to speed up. Things are changing and of course, like usual, I'm stressing out about them when I can't control them. I'm somewhat of a control freak, if you hadn't noticed--which is really strange for me because I never was this way, especially not in High School. But, change is good. It can bring all sorts of new opportunities. I know most people do Spring cleaning, but I do it in Winter, too. There's just something about the end of Fall that makes me want to gather all of my scraps together and cling to them, but what's the point? Let it go... :)

Something about almost being 24 (laughably old, I know, I know) makes me feel like now I am starting to leave childhood behind. I know for most people, it doesn't extend this far, but I find myself doing things that only grown-ups get to do--like chase down some oblivious dad's two kids so they don't run into a parking lot. I start to see things in a totally different way. It's hard to describe.

It seems to strange that it's been six years since the world changed forever... for me, at least. I remember having my dad wake me up and say, "The United States is under attack." And, somehow, it just didn't even make sense. I remember watching the video over and over and over, not daring to believe that it was going to happen, and then they fell, and there was such confusion and panic. And people had all these conspiracy theories, right from the start--yet nobody seemed to care about the people inside of those buildings--even now, people forget. How can that be?

Today at work--and this is something I don't talk a lot about--I realized that most of the people I work with in our New York partnership could have been there, seen it. I know for a fact one of them lost a spouse and parent of their children, too. It was really strange, to think that here in Oregon, we share this bond with these people. I don't want to sound trite, and I'm not a philosopher, but I've got to hope that our understanding deepened just a little that day. When we come to see each individual as our neighbor--as ourselves.

I sent a note of appreciation to a co-worker in New York, and they replied back with equal words of thanks. That's all it takes.

All of you reading--I appreciate you.

Hi kids, and welcome to another special edition of Ryla's Quick-n-easy sewing school! Today, we're going to learn the simple steps to replicating your favorite pattern for people who hate sewing but have a garment that they love.

Materials Needed:
- Paper
- Pins
- Rolly seam-marker thingie (useful, but not essential)
- Sharpies (I like the metallic ones!)
- A ruler
- Good lighting
- Artistic flair (again, useful, but not totally essential)
- Some understanding of patterning and/or sewing
- Fabric
- Your garment!

( Let's read along and learn! )

Next week, we'll learn how to fit a muslin mock-up, and how to make alterations to a garment! Stay tuned...

Ah, wow--I haven't been much on LJ lately because of work and life and all those LAME excuses. :) I did go to Sport of Kings a week ago and had a great time meeting thalialunacy who is fabulous and hyserically funny and an all-around cool chick. Mike and I were planning on going to Crown Tourney this weekend but we may not be able to make it--we know we're not going to camp at the very, very least. Daytripping *could* be an option but I doubt it. Anyway. Bah. Kinda disappointed about that but oh well.

We've had a lot of good and interesting discussions in the Hufflepuff common room lately about what defines a true Hufflepuff and why the house is usually shoved to the side. While I have to be honest and say that I identify more strongly with Ravenclaw, I do have some Hufflepuff tendencies and I do understand why people feel the way they do about that house--from both sides. On one hand, they're brave, loyal, steadfast, and usually do the right thing en masse when the time comes for it. Their students are incredibly diverse in social background, skills, and talents. But on the other side, the strict definition of "treat them all the same" just makes my hackles rise, mainly because I spent so much time in dumbed-down classes growing up, doing busywork because the slowest member of the class was able to set the pace for everybody else. You can try and treat people the same, but the pure fact of the matter is that people *aren't* the same. And that's ok, too. Anyway... it's been interesting and good to see that we Hufflepuffs use lots of canon to back up our answers--and the newest batch of Hufflepuffs are all great! Hurrah! :)

So, if you're in the Hillsboro area, you've probably noticed that the 20th annual Air Show is going on this weekend. Our apartment happens to be directly under the flight path of the Hillsboro airport (O NOES! TEH STALKING!) but that's never been a problem because I'm endlessly fascinated by whirly-things and planes and the like.

Amy and I went last night, and they do all sorts of old planes, new planes, jet-assisted-takeoff planes, jump teams that parachute down with burning things...pretty awesome. Had an interesting talk about politics, parenting blunders, and the deliciousness that is an elephant ear. Altogether awesome! And now, from my perch on the deck, I can see the stunt planes practicing; this has pretty much rendered buying a ticket to the day show completely pointless, because we're so close.

Anyway--I got to thinking about noise levels in apartment buildings. We've got really quiet neighbors (or well-insulated buildings) and we've never even heard them. Occasionally, the people below us play some loud movie, but not too frequently. All in all, it's just fine. But there's a little problem.

Right outside of our bedroom window, one of the alloted parking spaces houses a truck. And this truck (or rather, the owners/drivers) will take to revving up ever FREAKIN' morning at 6:15. AM. In the MORNING. Grr. And not just revving up oh-it-has-to-idle-for-a-minute-or-two, no no--full on, five minute escalations of engine noise, higher and higher and higher, till it dies.

This goes on for about a half of an hour.

Now, ok--that's also when we get up for work. But that's not the point. Don't you think--with stated quiet hours *and* in a small area like this where the sound is magnified--you'd be a little more courteous?

Here's the problem--I don't know how to complain. Because, you see, the owners of this truck are members of a different ethno-linguistic group than I am. That's fine. But I don't now how to say to management "Hey, would you please give everybody a little refresher on noise curfew and polite behavior, and oh hey, could you do it in Spanish?" It's been going on for a month or more now, and it's driving me crazy! They even did it today, and it's Saturday. But how do I say that, without coming off like a total racist bitch? Because I don't give a rat's ass if you're pink, purple, plaid, or make out with trees. Be respectful.

Graaaag.

Haven't done one of these in a while, I think. My wrist/hand/arm is cramping up from the editing I did today, all writing with a red pen that wasn't as fine-tipped as I generally prefer it to be. So I instinctively tighten my grip on it. 330 pages. Ugh. This is probably why I never practiced the piano and typing lessons never took; I don't do well with long hours of the same movements in my hands.

Anyway, I'm also getting used to using my Macbook to do photo- and web maintenance. I rather miss the old photo directory thing, and iPhoto's a bit of a nuisance, but it's not so bad.

So, here's what I've been up to lately:

( Rooting for the Villains )

And that's about it. My exciting life.

Now I'm gonna go rest the wrist. Ow.

For those that have finished the book (what book? what else!) there's an excellent fan-analysis-fic I've just got to pass along. http://tkp.livejournal.com/70244.html It deals mainly with the cyclical nature of time, family, and inheritance of beliefs and prejudices. Now, granted, I liked the epilogue, but I just wonder what happened between the end of the story and then. That's what fanfic is for!

In other news, I'm suddenly amused at how I'm exactly like my dad; he tends to keep napkins folded up in his car side--pockets, and try to use them multiple times. I've got the same thing going in my desk here... weird.

Zoinked from opaleyes

( It's time for the meme )

First of all, love this: no spoilers, just funny.

Finishing this final Harry Potter book has given me such mixed feelings--relief, for the answers to be there, surprise that some answers aren't, joy at the good parts, and sadness at the others. It's like leaving behind a really great summer camp, knowing that you are too old to go back the next year, and the memories of mud-filled toeprints and midnight capture-the-flag with glow sticks are just that--memories. I am very happy with the book, I can say that with some clarity, but other things surprised me, shocked me, and made me really think. In the words of a review I read recently, this book could be Exhibit A in a study of Joseph Campbell's mythopoetic structures. Which, of course, I love.

( Campbell would be proud? )

Anyway, I might add more to this, as I think of it. Gotta get to my book and notes. ;)

It's in the mail, Thalia!

:)

See you there...

Just thought that there was no other icon that would be as appropriate to this review as the lovely Lucius Malfoy in all of his shiny awesomeness.

( Cut for spoilerzz yo. )

Apart from the film itself, we had the craziest time with the people behind us. They were, quite possibly, the WORST theater patrons I have ever, ever had the unlucky chance to sit in front of. A mom and her two (possibly three) horrible spawn bought so much popcorn--getting up three or four times in the movie to purchase even more giant bags--and it was rattle rattle crunch crunch crunch the whole damn time behind us. And they talked. Loudly. And kicked our chairs. Again and again. I never shush people in public, but we were both turning around and glaring at them, and asking them to be quiet already!! It was insane! I'd never seen something so poorly behaved, and if the kids didn't know better (which I don't believe for a minute) then the mom sure as hell should have known better. *sigh*

So, I'm going to go see it at least twice again. Should enjoy it more--maybe we'll sit in the back row? :D

Yoinked from opaleyes,

( Cut for Awesomeness Overload! )

Crazy Michael's Potion Shack!

"You kill it, we distill it!"

Come and try our famous YAK BRANDY!!!

Things to remember when submitting your proposal--Yes, I'm sure they've been said before--that warrant repeating.

- If you want an answer, include a return envelope. With postage.
- Type your letter on a computer; I can't read your handwriting.
- Understand what we're looking for, and you'll understand why I am rejecting you.

*sigh*

Every time I go online for some research time, I'm always astounded at the plethora of terrible 'medieval' and 'renaissance' costumes out there. If I was more familiar with other time periods, I suppose I'd notice it there, too. Heaven knows the poor Civil War and Victorian departments are just mostly awful with a few stellar exceptions. (Truly Victorian being one of those wonderful places where authenticity and beauty come together.) But this weekend I was doing some research--I think it was on women's capes, cloaks, and mantles between 1320-1420--and I kept coming up with this truly bizarre stuff.

- Strange fabric choices: ok, I can believe that most people think they can't afford natural fibers like wool, linen, and silk. But for the love of pete, why describe something as "authentic" and "Rayon" in one breath? Investing in natural fibers will help you, for example, not catch on fire. A handy trick, that.

- Strange cut and construction: Princess seams? Zippers? Every seam laces up? Do people not even *try* to find some images as source materials? Men's clothing tends to be just a little bit better because it's all straight lines for the most part, but women's dresses continue to astound me with their suckitude.

Don't misunderstand me; I'm not a Garb Snob. I would never criticize people to their face with their clothing choices, I'm just frustrated because it makes research so much more difficult to find actual sources. I'll be the first to confess that I have a wench bodice, cotton skirt, and drawstring chemise that I dearly love to wear--why not? We've all got an inner wench. Hell, I think most of the time I have an outer wench, too. But the point is, when stores have these things for sale, why do they market them as authentic? Costume is costume--and I have, literally, two giant rubbermaid tubs full of inauthentic costumes that make my breasts look fantastic.

Anyway--

( Theories on Salazar and other Villains )

Now, 300 has earned more than $200 million in America alone, from an overwhelmingly male audience. What more plausibly accounts for this? That 20 million closet cases snuck off to see an illicit fantasy about bare-chested men in Hellenic Speedos, or that young men from the vast heartland of this very conservative, Christian, pro-military country flocked to see an unabashedly heroic tale of Occidental, republican military glory? To believe the latter, all you have to accept is that, in imagining the sort of heroic figures they themselves would like to be, straight men would project onto them not just excellence but physical beauty. Shouldn't a guy be able to do such a thing without being called gay?

More here

Had a nice, quiet evening last night, sewing and listening to Wizard People, Dear Reader, on my macbook. I haven't been able to do many web updates yet, mainly because I work in notepad and my macbook, er, does't do that yet. I'm assured by our tech guy at work that you can, in fact, make plain html and php in textedit, but I've yet to make it work. So, it may be a few days till my update goes life on ryla.net.

So had just put my romance novel book down and turned off the light when the building's fire alarm goes off. *sigh* There goes forty-five minutes of blissful sleep--which, I guess, wouldn't have mattered if I'd gone to bed on time. But I did get a bit of sewing done last night:

- Ordered the fabric and began drafting the neck facing for Mike's Norman tunic, which he requested to A. Look cool, B. Be resonably period, and C. Look cool. Sewing for men is at once easier and more difficult--easier because it's mainly straight lines up until the mid 15th century, and more difficult because I can't put it on and immedately receive feedback as to the fit. But I think his is going to fulfil all of the requirements, mroe or less. It will be a medium green tunic with lighter tan facing and trim.

- Sewed the final seams and the front facing of my blue linen gothic fitted gown. Laced it up with some temporary stitches and was only mildly dissapointed as to the fit--but I guess I should really term it a success, because my bust is absolutely not going anywhere, and the pressure releases into a lovely full skirt. I threw on some accessories and took some very mediemo photos (That's Medieval-Emo). "O, the inky blackness of my tortured, bitter soul--'cause electricity hasn't been invented yet. Woe, woe, woe."

Also, making plans to go to Sport of Kings in August, hence the mad dash to sew my dress before Mike's fabric arrives. Mine just needs proper lacing holes, sleeves, and neck facing. Then I'll hang it for a hem and finish the interior seams--which are purely aesthetic, rather than functional.