Gnumoon's Stuff

Ending and Beginning

I haven't posted anything on this blog in almost two years. I've meant to, I've had things to say, just no time or energy to say them.  

2012 was.... damn. What was it? Wonderful? Terrible? A world of laughter, a world of tears. If you take the average of life events from 2012, it was absolutely a wash. But then, the average takes out the best and the worst, doesn't it? It leaves you with the mundane, the bland, the C-student experiences of existence, void of extremes in emotion and substance. On a scale of 1-10, 2012 had a 1 and a 10, stark opposites that cannot be averaged.

When someone says, "I have good news and bad news," I say, "tell me the bad news first," because the good news can be there to cheer you up, to offer a kind hand after a gut-punch. We experienced death last year. The slow, painful kind of death that robs your loved one of themselves, the kind that makes you keenly aware that each conversation you have with them will be a conversation that you cannot  have ever again, so you hold onto each detail, no matter how insignificant or boring it seems. You tell yourself, "Remember this voice. Remember this conversation. Remember."  

My mother-in-law was a wonderful woman we were lucky to have. She raised my husband to be a compassionate man who loves his family and is respectful and even-handed in all he does. Those two sentences look so hollow and impersonal written like that, but they're true. She considered him, her only child, to be her life's work, and she did a damn fine job of it. To watch her wither and die in those 19 months was hellish. Not because I loved her (I did), but because I saw how he withered to lose her. It's been five months. Time will not erase or mute his pain. 1 on the scale because that's as low as the scale goes.
{Note: I never really cried. Not until Sandy Hook, a month later. The night after that happened I was home alone and collapsed on the couch. I sobbed for what seemed like hours: loud, braying, honking wails of sorrow and despair. It was a physical, racking pain. I cried for them as she would have. And I missed her so very much.}

and yet.

When Natalie was diagnosed, back in March of 2011, she confronted it with grace and poise. As the rest of us ran in circles waving our arms in the air screaming with our hair on fire, she sat and watched, sipped on her Starbucks, and was composed. A few months into treatment, she said to me, "You know I'm going to die. Unlike most people, I have the opportunity to have a general timeline of when that will happen." (I was still very much in denial about that inevitability) Then she leveled her gaze at me, steady and unwavering, as always, and said "I don't know if you are planning to have another child, but if so, I'd like to meet them." 

Even writing it now, that seems awkward. To discuss fertility and family planning with one's mother-in-law really brings up issues that most people, myself included, would rather not discuss. But Shit Got Real after the diagnosis, and being fairly blunt became a thing in our family.
We'd become fairly set in our routine with M, and she was almost 4 at that point. It looked as if we might be a one-kid family, and I was okay with that, if a touch sad she'd miss out on the sibling experience. We were fine with this version of ourselves.

I'm so glad Natalie gave us that nudge, because Louisa is the most amazing addition to our family, a piece we didn't even know was missing. She joined us in April, and she and Natalie felt the same sun for seven months. And I am so thankful for that overlap, for that precious, brief, bittersweet time. So thankful for my sweet, good-natured baby, content to travel so young and be held and sleep on her grandmother's lap and laugh and marvel at the shiny breathing tube. Each moment they were together was an exquisite kind of pain, sharp and immediately tinged with nostalgia. It was emotionally exhausting because joy and sadness weren't meant to occupy the same space, and it burns a lot of energy when they do. 

DJ, his dad, M, and I didn't know we needed Louisa Ann. But when her dad comes home from work, his face lined with stress and his gruff expression masking the sorrow of such acute loss, she sees him and squeals with delight. He goes to her and scoops her up, engulfing her little body in his arms, their faces pressed together. I see him, eyes closed, breathing her in, not smiling but for a moment disarmed and overwhelmed by her simple love. 10 on the scale, because that's as high as the scale goes. 

Pretty Pretty Princesses Ate My Daughter?

OK, I've now left two posts hanging - the gingerbread one and a new one about some cookies I-man and I made last week that were biiiitchiiiiin (imagine I sang that all high-pitched). I'll do those soon, hopefully. 

But since everyone keeps asking me what I think of this "Cinderella Ate my Daughter" anti-princess book that just came out, I guess I might as well get down a few thoughts on it. As an aside, I originally thought the book was some kind of awesome zombie/fairytale crossover, and was very much interested in reading it. Imagine my disappointment. Braaaaaaiiiiinssss! Tiarrrraaaaaasss!

Evidently the author is doing the rounds on TV, which I missed completely (much like the whole "How to Be a Grand High Chinese Bitch So Your Child Makes Straight A's But May Eventually Stab You In Your Sleep"  brouhaha a few weeks ago). But in general it seems to be that there is a "new" culture of super girliness going around, spearheaded of course by the evil overlords at Disney, that makes our female children demand to be dressed in pink at all times and addressed as a princess and catered to and blah blah blah. The book offers no solutions to help a hapless parent counter this onslaught. 

Since I am not a girly-girl, and I do have a female child, people seem to think I might have some kind of outrage about this issue. But here's the thing: I don't. Despite the fact that we've taken the wee one to Disney World a few times and made wonderful memories, I recognize that The Mouse is there to make money. No money= no funding for Pixar or theme parks or Imagineers. I figure out how much money I am comfortable giving The Mouse in exchange for entertainment from Jessie, Tangled or the Haunted Mansion, and that's that. Sure, sometimes we go overboard and end up with a whole set of Cars-themed Matchboxes to race around our Ikea play carpet, but indulgences like that hardly worry me in the grand scheme of things. (And yes, oftentimes she'll go a several days at a time dressed as Buzz Lightyear, zooming around and requesting I "say the words" for Zurg. And in my defense, I bought the costume secondhand (but new in box, booyah!) for $2.)

But those are toys for BOYS, people say. Bullshit. Those are toys based on well-written, witty films (although with Cars, the premise was so silly we avoided it for years), that are accessible to both boys and girls. Sure, the Disney marketing machine has separated the playthings by gender, but that's to make sure they cast the widest net to pull in as many dollars from as many families as possible. Again, I understand that's just business, just Mickey Taggart intent on building his intercontinental railroad. Nothing to see here, move along. {Insert Walt/Galt line here}

So the Princesses. The Princesses. What's to be done about these princesses? When I was 7, my aunt found a dress pattern like the "make it pink! make it blue!" dress from Sleeping Beauty, and for my birthday that year we made it together. The experience was wonderful, the dress beautiful, and I have such grand memories of spending time with her making that magical dress. Apparently it is appalling to Disney that people might have HOME-MADE replicas of their costumes, so they launched this branded line of Princess schwag to address that perceived need. And as they make several BILLIONS of dollars a year doing it, I'd say their market research was spot-on. But hey, not everyone has an aunt Julie. 

So you have a daughter and she is demanding pink Disney Princess dresses and tiaras and movies and lip gloss and purses and related supplemental shit. And this bothers you, because you feel it may (1. give her unrealistic expectations about life and her place in it (2. set a dangerous precedent about one's perceived value being based on looks and bling (3. teach your daughter that only a handsome Prince Charming can save her from an average, boring life (4. eventually turn her into a slutty, poorer, trashier version of Miley Cyrus/Lindsay Lohan/Demi Lovato, or (5. do any combination of the above.

So, here is your silver bullet, the answer you have waiting to hear: just don't buy it for her. You are an ADULT, your child is a CHILD. Just say no. Decide to limit the exposure, or hell, opt out completely if you feel that strongly about it. So your kid whines and cries and says it's not FAIR and she's not your FRIEND. Tough noogies, pipsqueak. If your kid is smart/old enough, explain your problems with it, and provide alternate games/toys/costumes. If your kid is stupid, well, might as well buy her the shiny sparkly shit and get her on the Mickey Mouse Club. Maybe she'll be the next Britney. 

Now, I understand that some girls are just girly. Girly girly girly. This is nothing new, no matter how much this book would love for you to think it's an invention of the Walt Disney Company and Mattel. There are girls who would rather die than play in the dirt (some boys, too), and pulling the plug on their royal dreams might prove to be dramatic. For a lot of kids, the whole princess/fairy/tulle encrusted world thing is just a phase, but I know a lot of adult women who hold on to it a lot longer than they should and pass it on to their kids. They aren't reading this book, though, because they're too busy waiting for a callback from Toddlers & Tiaras. 

Just because a kid is obsessed with pink and princesses and sparkles doesn't automatically mean she'll turn into a 9-year-old eyeliner-wearing mallrat and then an entitled and out-of-touch 17-year-old. But it's worth paying attention to, just in case. I'm a firm believer in stopping bad behavior as early as possible; no matter how headstrong a four year old is, she can't hold a candle to a hormonal teenager. As a parent it is your job to weigh the risks, consider the options, and make tough decisions and stick with them for the good of your kid. Sometimes it sucks to be the heavy, but them's the breaks. 

So in our world, this translates to moderation. Sure, there are some princess-branded items in the mix, but how do you even "play" princess? Dress up and look pretty? That gets boring to my miniature Space Ranger pretty damn fast. Did she want to meet Tinkerbell at DisneyWorld? Sure, we waited in line for that, but it didn't hold a candle to dancing with Woody or revving up with Lightning McQueen. (We also got to meet Vidia, the bitchiest fairy...why do they even have her there? Don't hug my kid, I don't want your picture.)

What it all boils down to is media literacy. Little kids don't know they're being marketed to. As a parent, it is your job to be savvy enough to shield them from this, and teach them the difference between forming their own opinions and having them spoon-fed by those who stand to make a profit. Do we watch television? Sometimes, and never anything with commercials. Why? Because a three-year old lacks the ability to make the distinction between fact and crap. And when the shows themselves (Mickey Mouse Clubhouse, Dora, Spongebob, etc) are basically extended advertisements for merchandise, that's another reason to limit exposure. Again, this is nothing new...I have warm & fuzzy feelings about Rainbow Brite, a cartoon character from the 80s, but she was owned and marketed by Hallmark as a way to squeeze money out of kids. 

But then again, tonight my child asked me for a cake shaped like a dalek. So I may have no clue either. At least we're having fun, and not choking on pink tulle. 

2011 - Keep Calm and Carry On

OK, it's a month into 2011, and I haven't posted anything in almost 2 months. But one of the things I'm striving for this year (I'm not saying these are "resolutions," because that's just setting myself up for failure) is to blog more. We'll see. My  other strivignations include starting that business I've been thinking about for a year and a half, have some adventures, and get my shit together. That last one is sort of all-encompassing. I've been unsuccessfully trying to get my shit together for several decades. My shit refuses to be rounded up and collected, apparently. 

So far, 2011 has sucked. Lots of people posted on Twitter & FB and such that they were glad to see 2010 go, but I really had nothing against it. It was sort of a pleasant, inert year. Bad and good, ho-hum. This year, however, has been terrible. Max almost died and we found out vie very expensive surgery that he is in fact very gravely ill, the snow and ice continue unabated, M has been sick, personal and professional setbacks abound, blah blah blah.

The good ol "Keep Calm and Carry On" sign has become a bit of a mantra. Just keep on keepin on. Right on. It's my second favourite British sign. 

But, there is always the dawn. Tomorrow (today, actually) will come and it is a new month. Today (yesterday) it was 56 degrees and it brought the loveliest thaw. Lively water ran everywhere, making beautiful squelchy mud puddles that begged to be jumped in by willing three-year-olds. The sky was blue, the river was clear, and we sat, covered in mud, on the big rocks by the water in long-sleeved t-shirts, sunning like fat lazy lizards on the first day of spring. It was glorious. {Could I use more prepositional phrases in a sentence?}

Will it snow tomorrow? It might. But it didn't today, and you could feel the everything stretching and breathing, unfurling if just for a moment. The eye of the storm, maybe. Gorgeous calm. 

---------

So, because I went to the trouble of doing these 'shops, I'll post the Making of the Gingerbread House before I forget it all:

1. I made a foam board mockup of the house and taped it all together to make sure the angles were right. This is actually the 2nd version, the initial attempt was gigantic. A Barbie would have lived in it. This house is perfect GI Joe-sized. (Yet another reason those dolls could never date each other, and that is just too bad since Ken is so laaaaame)

I'm no architect, and this step proved to be almost more than I could handle.Did I mention that I've never really made a gingerbread house before? Yeah, there is that. And this thing was supposed to be for the damn Chancellor? Why the hell did I raise my hand for this? Anxiety level during this step: 8/10 

2.Keep calm and carry on. Using the foam pieces as patterns, I cut out the gingerbread dough and did my best to keep all the pieces groups with their own sections of house. I think there were 7 tiers of cooling rack set up in the kitchen.

I went through 15 pounds of flour and 2 giant jars of molasses for this step. I think that's sort of impressive, for amateur night.

Anxiety level during this step: 4/10

3. Assembly. There was a snowstorm in the middle of this project, and it kept me from going to Lowe's and buying a giant piece of plywood to glue this onto, so we improvised by using a large cork board. (Sorry DJ, I promise I'll replace it your massive laminate and press pass board. Someday.)

Soup cans were used to hold the pieces in place as they cured, and as you can see, the large front section of the house broke in half and had to be set back together. Anxiety level during this step: 7/10

4. The roofline of this house looks deceptively like a boring ol ranch, but it isn't. It spans different levels and depths of house, and the gingerbread equivalent promptly broke when I took it out of the oven. After some splinting and creative cursing, I covered the good side with roof tiles (Golden Grahams) and added the dormers. 

Despite measuring and remeasuring, I still managed to put the dormers on wrong. more cursing, more covering mistakes with breakfast cereal. Anxiety level during this step: 7/10

5. The entryway was my favorite part. I loved cutting the gingerbread to match the woodwork at the front of the house. This is where the project started to get fun.

The square pretzels worked well as the multi-paned windows in the front of the house, and I spent some time painting in color on the stonework. I'd originally meant to use rock-looking candy for the work on the front, but the snow put a stop to my search for the right kind. So I improvised. Anxiety level during this step: 4/10

The rest coming soon. I promise.

 

Graphic designer confession time: Holiday Cards

I am a graphic designer and a photographer. As such, I always design my own Christmas cards. But between our never-ending football season, the gingerbread house, my graduate classes, cookietopia, the ongoing blizzards up on the mountain, and life in general, I just can't rally myself to design one more thing right now. It would just be a photo of me asleep with the tagline, "I want to be nestled, all snug in my bed, for 18 hours. Please do not bother me until Twelfth Night."

That's not very cheery, is it?

So I will confess that I'm going out of house this year. There are lots of places online to make cards, and their designers are all probably less stressed and brain-mushy than I am right now. So I think I'll just leave it to Shutterfly. I'm the first to pooh-pooh lackluster design work, but I'm thinking most of these cards are really nifty; this is the one I'm thinking of getting. It captures M's exuberance and joy, plus I'm not called upon to design something that caputres M's exuberance and joy. Win!

(Note: that isn't M, but I think I'll teach her to do a somersault tonight so I can take her out into the snow and get that same series of shots from the sample. So what if she's only 3?)

If this sounds like an ad for Shutterfly, that's because it is. Not only am I a lazy mommy, I'm a frugal blogger, and Shutterfly is running a promotion for 50 Free Cards for Bloggers. So yes, it's an ad; I'm bringing it to you because I'm getting a kickback from the company. HOWEVER, I'm a graphic designer. I'd rather have no card at all than one that is less than stellar, so you can take that as my honest endorsement.

If you're looking for other gifts, they also have photo calendars (very popular with the grandparents!) and photo books. I make a lot of photobooks for clients, and have tested out several different companies' offerings in this area. Shutterfly's may not be the fanciest around, but for comparative price and ease of use you can't beat em. And these days, I'm all about ease of use.

So there's my ad. I'll post a picture of my card when I make it, and if you're very lucky and have a sprinkling of Christmas pixie dust upon your mailbox, you might just get a real, physical, cardstock, stamped and mailed, PRINTED COPY! Limited edition!

{EDITED to ADD}

So I did indeed get the Shutterfly card above, here tis:

 

Brightly Merrily Holiday Card

Create modern holiday cards at Shutterfly

View the entire collection of cards.

The interface was fast and easy - it almost gives too many choices. Of course, I had to pay to get the cards here on time for Christmas, but that's generally how I roll. It will be interesting to compare the finished product to TinyPrints - as far as I have seen, these two services are neck and neck as far as product offerings, quality, and social media savvy. As long as they keep duking it out for customers, we'll probably continue to see discounts and special offers which, as a bargain-hunting cheapskate careful consumer, I love.

Project: Gingerbread House

This is what I've spent the last 4 days of my life working on. It's the Chancellor's house, all decked out for the holidays, in gingerbread.

Actual house:

 

Gingerbread version:

 

I'm not going to go into the nightmare this thing was to construct right now, because I'm completely brainmushed, but I took a series of photos from conception to completion. I'll bloggity blog those later. Suffice it to say: whew, I'm glad that project is done!

 

Jolly BOOTS OF DOOM

I'll just leave this here, for everyone who is warm & fuzzy over the showing of Charlie Brown Christmas on TV last night.

I give you: The Invader Zim Christmas Song (insert obligatory comment about how I wish they'd bring the show back):

 

Some Favorite Songs of 2010

I haven't been as into new music this year as in the past. My life right now just doesn't give me the necessary downtime to ferret out new stuff; I've been mostly sticking to bands I already know and trust to be good, stuff that works well for spin class and, I'll be honest, the Toy Story 3 soundtrack.

Looking over this list, 2010 seems to have been the "Year of Eurofluff" for me, which is appropriate since it's also the year I finally got around to watching the new Doctor Who series & Torchwood. I'd been planning to do that since 2005 or so, but hadn't had the chance yet. Yay for Netflix Instant. {It also means I'm 5 years behind in my conversations with other fans, oh well.}

 

Avett Brothers - Head Full of Doubt/Road Full of Promise and January Wedding

Rush - BU2B

K'naan - Bang Bang

Joanna Newsom - '81

Scissor Sisters - Any Which Way

Mumford & Sons - Little Lion Man

They Might Be Giants - Paleontologist

B.o.B. & Rivers Cuomo - Magic (Catchiest song of the year)

Ray Lamontagne -  Devil's in the Jukebox

Ellie Goulding -Starry Eyed

Take That - The Flood

Robbie Williams - Morning Sun

Keane - Clear Skies

Fatal Bazooka - Ce Matin Va Etra Une Pure Soiree  ("I see a sexy lady I'm like Oh. My. God...hey baybee let me buy you a pain au chocolat")

Kylie Minogue - Get Outta My Way

Josh Ritter - Long Shadows

Flo Rida - Who Dat Girl 

Sufjan Stevens - Too Much

Spoon - Got Nuffin

The New Pornographers - Crash Years

Lady Gaga - Telephone (Sorry, I can't help it.)

Goldfrapp - Rocket

Rufus Wainwright - Sad With What I Have

 

* - I have high hopes for the new Deadmau5 release & the Daft Punk Tron soundtrack, but those aren't for a few days

They Might Be Cool People

Here Comes Science, by They Might Be Giants was nominated for a Grammy tonight. It is highly deserving of such an honor, because it's educational, it's catchy and after all these months, I still don't want to stab myself in the ear when we listen to it in the car. You can't say that about most kid-centric musical fare. 

So I tweeted this:

"Congrats to @tmbg for the Grammy nod. My wee one astounds folks w/her knowledge of pachycephalosauri, chlorophyll & the circulatory system."

No big deal; I can tweet something in a few seconds, and I didn't expect them to see it, I mostly just wanted other people to and be aware of the achievement. I was surprised, then, to see this in my feed shortly after:

Sure, it was probably posted by someone they hired to handle their social media presence, but it still kinda made my night. 

Buzz Lightyear Costume: Part 2

This post should be titled "How to make a Buzz Lightyear costume in three days." If you have more time, money and ability, you can make something truly awesome, like this guy did.

Seriously, the more of these I see the more embarrassed I am by the slapped-together-and-drunkenly-planned one I made (The Artist would call that "slapdick"). Instead of acting like it didn't happen though, I think I'll use it as motivation to try again. I really want to try the vacu-foam technique, when I can find some time (2019?). I'm sure I could eventually make a more accurate version than what I did. So I'll dub mine the "charming, homemade" version, which is always code for "kinda shitty."

  Anyhoo, so after night one I sort of had parts sort of painted and sewed. I decided to build the upper body on a black sweatshirt ($3), so I measured off lengths of the foam insulation, cut them lenthwise and hand-sewed them near the zipper in the back. I left them the dark gray/black instead of trying to paint them completely black; I learned from the alien costume neckpiece that the foam really really hates being painted and will thwart your every effort.

Back to the wings and jetpack. I had to start adding on parts for authenticity, including the lightedtorches on the wingtips. So I painted some floral foam (cut into cones) and cut out notches so they'd fit securely on the wings. I did 2 cones, bottom to bottom, for each wing and covered them in matching green foam.  (The blinking lights fit into the tips)

As Mr. Lightyear is a toy, he needs screws to hold all the parts on, so I made some foam screws and painted them silver to go on the jetpack. (I assume these are supposed to hold the wing mechanisms in place and allow them to pivot outwards.)I know the wings are part of the costume, but there was no way he could move freely inside with the wings on. So I made the jetpack three pieces: the main, wearable pack, which is worn with the assistance of the back of an old Paradise Jam backpack and includes the bulk of the pack and the exhaust features, the wings, and the outer workings (including the screws and the karate chop action button/fan). All three pieces were fitted with velcro (industrial strength! Ooooh!) so he could wear the wings or just the outer artwork. I had to figure out how to place the velcro at about 4am, and I'm still impressed I got it right. *pats self on back*

One of my favorite bits of the costume is the DANGER! JET EXHAUST" signs on the jetpack, as they are not only a warning, but a fart joke. What? I'm immature, what can I say?

Speaking of the warning signs, I have to thank some geek on the internet for scanning in all the stickers on the toy so I could print them out for this project. (My husband says that after this, I'm not allowed to refer to anyone else as a geek.) M quite enjoyed putting on the armbands and space rangering around. I also put the appropriate stickers on the now-green chestplate.

A note on the chestplate: I scored some easy, cheap points with the red button. While it is supposed to trigger the wings, instead it triggers the voice. I bought this ($10) and took the talk button out. As it turned out, the button itself was futuristic and interesting-looking, so I just slapped some red paint on it and embedded it into the foam plate. {M has the now silent Buzz doll, she doesn't seem to mind it doesn't talk... I heard her telling it "You can't talk because my daddy took your voice away."}

At this point, several weeks later, I can't remember all the details. But at some point I made a belt and altered the ski bibs. The bibs were a size S, which just wouldn't do, so I had to buy some stretchy white fabric and replace the elastic panel in the outer thighs. Word of advice: ski pants are a certain size. Just let them be the size they are. All the cursing aside, they turned out very well and you couldn't tell at all they'd been altered. Score one for a bad bad seamstress.I also put more of the green foam around the cuffs of the bibs. I didn't get around to adding detailing on the front of the knees or the articulating parts of the back of the knees.

One part I did not like and will not post is the boots. I could NOT FIND proper boots to paint. I had such grand plans; I was even going to scrawl "ANDY" on the bottom of the sole in Sharpie. But I ended up buying some POS tennis shoes at WalMart and painting those instead. They basically sucked, but looked okay from far away. Let's move on.

The costume-building experience was a good one. I wish I'd had more time, more planning, more materials and skill. Mostly more time. I like working by myself in the dead of night, although it does make me think up questions I'd never previously considered, such as "How does he pee?," which leads to "Is he an android or a real person?," and then "If the laser is on the right arm, then is a lefthanded Space Ranger SOL?"

If I try it again, there are some specific improvements to be made. Better boots, for one. I want the laser button to be a button, and for there to be a blinking red light on the gauntlet. I want the plastic fishbowl helmet, but that's something I'm just going to have to order on the 'net. I want better joints in the elbows and knees, and a general "clean up" of the whole costume. If I'd had a few more days these are things I could have done for this go-round, but with work and family and school and cookietopia, I just couldn't swing it. Sadly, I have to sleep occasionally.

Until we were walking to the Halloween festival, DJ had never worn the whole suit together, and I was fairly sure it was going to be the biggest damn mess ever, with parts sloughing off and wings snatched by the wind. But amazingly, it worked. The kids loved it, M had a blast, and I stopped worrying about what if the wings should fall off and just concentrated on having a good time.

 

Buzz Lightyear Costume - Part I

When we were at Mickey's Not-So-Scary Halloween party, we were in line to meet Donald Duck, and behind us was a man dressed like Buzz Lightyear. I only noticed him in the melee of costumes because it was dark out, and the plastic wings had green lightsticks taped to them. Nice touch. But I had this flicker of a thought: Buzz is a good costume. A really good costume. And I couldn't shake it. I tried to shake it, but it wouldn't let go. I don't have TIME, I thought, to make this costume. A little alien? Sure, I can swing that. But a Buzz frigging Lightyear? He has WINGS, among other difficult-to-design parts. But still the idea lingered.

I love Buzz Lightyear, and that proably had a lot to do with it. He's funny and courageous and hilariously arrogant. Whereas Woody always struck me as a whiny fatalistic prima donna, Buzz is so honest and earnest in whatever he believes, and an eternal optimist. (The latter is the reason That One Scene You Know The One I Mean Is Someone Cutting Onions In Here Dammit in Toy Story 3 is so touching, when he knows it's over)

As an aside, I prefer the original Tim Allen voice, but Patrick Warburton's cartoon & game work gets a nod from me as well, because he's also Kronk and the Tick. Kronk may be my favorite 2D cartoon character of all time.

As an additional aside, the Mrs. Nesbit Scene in the original movie is on my personal list of "best scenes in a movie ever." "YEARS OF ACADEMY TRAINING, WASTED!"

So Buzz is an interstellar badass with a heart of gold. AND he has a really really awesome Space Ranger suit. The costumes online were really expensive, really terrible, and in a lot of cases, both. I didn't even start thinking about the Buzz costume until after I finished Jessie and the alien, my reasoning being that DJ wouldn't get to go to as many Halloween functions as M and I, so his costume could wait. And also I had no idea who to attack the construction problem. I've never made anything even vaguely space-suity, unless Rainbow Brite counts (it doesn't).

I sketched and I thought and I sketched. The weekend before Halloween I went to Woods of Terror in the 'boro with some friends and my brother. We consumed some adult beverages, and I ended the evening (ok, early morning) sketching madly on a paper towel at my in-laws' house, no doubt gesturing wildly, while explaining the pieces of Buzz to my brother The Artist. Said artist helpfully suggested that DJ just go as Sid Phillips because it was an easier costume, here less than a week from the holiday. I let him know that was a cop-out solution that he was welcome to blow out his ass, so we poured another glass of pinot and went back to the sketch, deconstructing. To the left is the drunken, wingless, from-memory sketch in question. It isn't impressive, but it at least gave me a starting point.

 Monday at lunchtime I started gathering parts. I went to the used sporting goods store and confused the hell out of the clerk by purchasing all manner of clearanced baseball gear. The main scores were a catchers' chestplate ($7) and some batting gloves ($4). Then on to the consignment store, where a shaft of light shone down from the very heavens and blindingly illuminated a pair of men's ski bibs, white ($4). I also picked up several random sets of kneepads, elbow pads and some shinguards ($6 for all).I also picked up a tai kwan do practice pad for some reason; although sized for a child it looked promising as part of a space suit ($2).

After work, M and I went to Lowe's for pipe insulation and some other odds and ends. She was very helpful, choosing paint colors and providing comic relief, as 3 year olds are wont to do. Total bill: $7.

I got home, shoveled some hastily-prepared dinner into my family, and set to work. I used all the terrible political pre-election ads we were recieving in the mail  as a dropcloth, and started painting. I already knew the foam wouldn't take normal acrylic paint, so I'd bought a quart of some sludge called "EXTERIOR SUPER ADHESION LAQUER," pausing only long enough between coats to paint mustaches and devil horns on the drop-cloth candidates (esp Soucek because he strikes me as a total douchebag).

The armbands for the laser and the Space Ranger insignia are repurposed beer coozies I found in the cabinet and dismantled mercilessly with my x-acto blade. GREEK WEEK '99? GONE! DIXIE LANDING RESORT? YOU DON'T EVEN EXIST ANYMORE! No foam item in the house was safe; several tub toys were sacrificed to bring us this costume.

While that was drying I dragged out the sewing machine and mulled over the the cowl. (What color is Lightyear's hair? Judging by his eyebrows I'll guess dark brown. My hsband is a ginger and not inclined to let me dye his brows. Oh well.) I'd bought some purple fleece and cut it in the general shape of a three-piece hood. While DJ sat on the couch trying to get his daily West Wing fix, I made him try it on, adjusting and sewing and velcroing and pinning and hemming as he attempted in vain to hear the words of his president, Jed Bartlett. I was eventually satisfied with it enough to leave him alone and go back to my painting. (Note: I can't sew. This minor detail has never stopped me from finishing a project.)

At some point during that first night of construction it because painfully clear that the costume, with its Omaha Steaks cooler-based jetpack, was going to be very underwhelming without wings. I fired up the computer and started google image searching to check their construction. I'd yoinked some fome core boards from work out of the scrap bin, and started eyeing them with a new respect.  Flimsy, but possibly workable. I glued 2 lengths together back to back (for strength) and started cutting them in a general approximation of Buzz wings. By the end of the night I had a rough approximation of the jetpack and wings, but definitely not worthy of a Space Ranger yet. Zurg would just laugh his evil laugh at this point in the process.

I would have been worried about the costume's progress were it not for the star of that first evening of construction, the gloves. Oh the glorious gloves. Who knew that if you put paint on the existing stretchy parts of batting gloves they look just like Lightyear's hands? I suspect someone at Pixar knows this, because they looked almost perfect with very little effort on my part. I bet they were originally modeled after batting gloves. Or at least at 3am I was pretty sure of it.

Part II coming up in a jiff. I just have to take a break for some darjeeling.

 

 

 

This is the time on gnumoon's stuff where we DANCE!

I'm taking a small break from the costuming posts to bring you this lovely bit of randomness. I love ballroom dancing. I don't watch those shows about it, but I dearly love dancing scenes in movies, and in college my best friend and I wore out my VHS copy of Strictly Ballroom, which is one of the best dance movies out there (and one of the best movies out there in general). I also don't ballroom dance; my personal dancing is limited to Zumba class and bopping about the house with my daughter. If any of you can convince my husband it would be fun to try, I'll bake you some cookies. He's a good sport, but I don't know if he'd be willing to give that a go.

L (aforementioned best friend) and I were discussing over IM this morning how dance scenes just make us happy, and impress us with their amazing footwork and whatnot. So we decided to share some favorites. The criteria were: no big dresses impeding footwork (sorry, dance scene in Beauty and the Beast), no dance scenes-turned-into-raves (sorry, dance scene in that one Harry Potter movie), no dance scenes focusing on a troupe instead of a couple (sorry, all of West Side Story), and they had to make us smile (sorry, dance scene in Gone with the Wind). We reserve the right to break any or all of these rules at our whim.

So, watch these, and smile.

Dirty Dancing - Final Dance scene

The dance scene to end all dance scenes, although to get the proper amount of titular Dirtiness, I'd suggest the Loverboy dance scene instead. 

 

 

Take the Lead, Tango Scene

That Antonio Banderas, he can, how you say, Dance!

 

Moulin Rouge

This is another Baz Luhmann film, and another of my favorites. I was going to post the Roxanne scene, but it breaks the "happy" rule, since it's basically a choreographed rape. This movie is spectacular (spectacular) from a dancing perspective, and also if you happen to be a big Ewan MacGregor fan (raises hand). Botox or surgery or whatever she's done to herself since, Nicole Kidman is at her most gorgeous in this film.

 

Fred Astaire & Ginger Rogers

Not technical ballroom dancing, of course. But my list, my rules.

 

Doctor Who - The Doctor Dances  

Again, my list, my rules. Here's a great clip of the Ninth Doctor dancing in the Tardis 1940s-style with Rose Tyler as Captain Jack looks on in amusement. 

 

Shall We Dance

Seguing into the paso doble section with Stanley Tucci's awesome permagrin.

 

Final Scene, Strictly Ballroom

Just the best. Scott's dad makes me tear up every time. The whole movie is excellent.

 

And my new very favorite dance scene in a movie is:

Toy Story 3 - Paso Doble

After Buzz is reset from Spanish mode, he retains some of his moves, and I'm impressed that Jessie never loses her hat.

 

 

 

 

Jessie the Yodeling Cowgirl costume

So this is a little bit out of order. I actually made my Jessie costume first, thinking it would be the easiest of the three I was attempting. So the alien was the second one in the series.Jessie is a great character, but I admit when I made this I'd only seen Toy Story 2 once, years ago. But since the only other female characters in the movies were Andy's mom (yawn) and Bo Peep (yaaaawn), there wasn't much choice.

 Here's Jessie. She's a rootin' tootin' yodeling cowgirl, and a part of Woody's Roundup gang. Her costume is alse deceptively intricate, if you're going to be serious about doing it correctly. I gathered the parts before attempting any of the costume, visiting our local Goodwill for the shirt, Michael's for the felt and rickrack, and Wal-Mart for the wig parts.

I made the wig first, by cutting the bill of a red ballcap ($2 on clearance at Wally World) and hot-gluing lengths of red yarn to it. I seriously underestimated the time this would take (and Jessie has an enormous head, so the amount of red yarn needed to get the proportions correct was almost the whole skein). Instead of the hour or so I thought it would take, I spent 4 times that gluing the yarn and my fingers to the cap. I blew through half a season of Torchwood (nice anagram) on Netflix while I made it. Oh Jack, you're such a dreamy freakshow.

Here's how the wig looked, and I looked in it, at 3am. Note undereye circles, lack of makeup, and shifty-eyed distrust of all alien life. The wig is suprisingly comfortable, and with the addition of a festive yellow ribbon, looks much like Jessie's beautiful yarn full of hair. (That's a Buzz Lightyear quote, btw, not me just switching words around) I look like fresh hell in this picture. The addition of concealer, freckles and superhigh arched red brows really helped the presentation for actual Halloween festivities.

The shirt was the next evening's activity. I looked at a still from the movie and cut yellow felt to match the shape, then hotglued it onto my $3 Goodwill button-down. Then I added red sparkly rickrack and ribbon in the correct pattern. The cuffs were a little more difficult and required actual sewing in addition to the generous dollops of hot glue. And my favorite part of the whole outfit was the fringe on the cuffs. I know it was just felt cut into fringe and sewed on, but for some reason it was just the right touch to made it feel authentic. The buttons were wooden round things I picked up somewhere (a junk drawer or box, I can't remember), and glued safety pins on. Fancy fancy.

The belt buckle I got at the Goodwill for .50. It was attached to a wonderful molded plastic belt that only reached about halfway around me, so I ripped it off an stuck it onto a belt of my own. I tried to make the original belt work, because it was very intricately carved with horses and buttes railways and such, but it just wouldn't work. I'm still mourning that one, actually. It was perfect, only it was also teeny.

An important note to anyone who is making a costume such as this. Please please please TRY ON your shirt before you buy it and modify it. I didn't do this, and the shirt ended up being 1. Too thin and 2. Too snug. This is not a good combination. I don't want to talk about it further except to say I had to not breathe or eat during Halloween, which really sucked. Sucked in, that is. 

Next was the cow fur chaps. I got unexpectedly lucky here, and I took it as a sign that I should indeed make the rest of the costumes. Years ago I got into this thing where I'd paint chairs like barnyard animals and give them to people. I had a pig, some cows, etc... I called it the "E-I-E-I-O Collection." The cows even had pink paper mache udders. Yeah, I know. Anyhoo, at some point I bought this fabulous fake fur fabric and covered the seats of the chair in the stuff, and apparently made some throw pillows to match. One of the pillows was sitting in the "bag to go to the Goodwill" and caught my eye just as I was wondering how to paint the chaps. I took out my trusty seam ripper and took it apart, then cut it lengthwise, pinned them to some jeans and Bam! instant chaps. I also got lucky on the boots: really awesome Fryes a friend let me borrow.

 The hat. The hat. The damned hat. Jessie's hat is not a normal cowboy hat, it's something called a Mexican Cowboy hat, which is flatter on top. Also, as I may have mentioned, this chick has a gigantic noggin, so a normal hat wouldn't fit anyway. I finally gave up on the hat. And then ... jackpot, I found one under a display at the party store in Greensboro. At $12, it was much more expensive than any other piece of the costume, but I considered it worth the extra cash. Unfortunately, it was black. No problem, I thought, that's what spray paint is for. Except the black felt was like a black hole for paintm sucking and sucking the color in. I ended up using 4 large bottles of acrylic on the damn thing before it was passable, adding an extra $2.47 to the price tag with each bottle. But hey howdy hey, the final product looked good.

 
 For comparison, buying the Jessie costume online(without shipping and with no wig), is about $68. My Jessie was about $30. (Around $9 without the hat).

(And it made this little girl at the Halloween festival so happy, which made it all worth it.)

Up next: biting off more than I can chew, and beyond!

Spinoween - Version 1

There are 2 spin classes before Halloween, and I got the instructor to let me supply some seaonally-appropriate music. Today's offerings (1 hr, incl. warm-up and cool-down):

Halloween Costumes: Toy Story alien

OK, since vowing to be better about posting, I've been even more negligent than before. I can't offer any excuse other than that I'm tired and busy and annoyed that I require sleep in exchange for functionality. Since I posted last we've been to Disney World for Mickey's Not-So-Scary Halloween party, I've met my cousins and assorted dorky friends for a Rush concert, and we've gone about our fall activities. Mostly this means football, baking and wishing life would slow down a bit so we could take in the beauty of the high country in autumn.

If you're a fan of Disney World and Halloween, I highly recommend you try to get to the Halloween party; it's by far the best time I've ever had at the Magic Kingdom. While we were there M got to cut a rug with Woody from Toy Story:

We also met Buzz Lightyear and several other characters including her very favorites, the little green aliens. Looking back, that evening was the genesis of Halloween 2010, because a week or so after coming home she came to me and asked if she could be the alien for trick-or-treating. Sure, I told her, glad she wasn't requesting to be Lightning McQueen (for those of you uninitiated into Pixardom, he's a car. Not an easy costume.)

She held me to it.

So I started looking around. I found this. $30 and complete shit. Not even cute, just rather weird-looking, which is ashame because those little aliens are damn adorable. So I started thinking about how to make one. For reference, they look like this. 

Many people have asked for the breakdown of how this costume evolved, so here it is. :) For comparison, the alien costume, store-bought (with shipping), about $35. My costume: $15.

Toy Story Alien costume:

Head: green fleece fabric on a bicycle helmet (the helmet is in fact Lightning McQueen themed).

Antenna: length of dowel rod with a styrofoam ball stuck on the end, wrapped in poly-fill, shoved into PlayDoh in the top vent of the helmet.

Ears: Cut from fleece, sewn onto cardboard to hold shape, taped to helmet.

Eyeballs: Styrofoam balls, with about 1/3 cut off. Covered in white fabric, with black velvet pupils and green fleece eyelids, all hot-glued onto the helmet. {I am using hot glue like mad with these costumes, and have the raw red fingertips to prove it.}

Neck band: Length of 1/2 inch pipe insulation, painted purple, affixed with industrial-strength velcro.

Alien Hands: I made three-fingered gloves to fit over her hands, but they were too small so in a pinch before the festival last Saturday I cut them in half and hot glued them to the inside of the cuff over her hands. That way she could still hold the trick-or treat bag. {You do NOT want to impede the trick-or-treat bag} I plan to check the weather for Boone BOO! and see if I need to make a bigger pair for Friday she can wear over regular gloves. Gotta love that mountain weather!

Suit: Blue fleece sweatshirt (hood removed, used as pattern for head & DJ's cowl) and pants from K-Mart. {No crowds there, at K-Mart. you can shop for random-ass costume components all day, and no one questions you a bit.} Belt made from purple fabric from DJ's costume.

Pizza Planet Logo: made from yellow felt (left over from my costume) and assorted scraps of fabric from the rag bag.

And that's the whole costume. Only the head presented any challenge, but it worked out much smoother than it should have. (Because I sew, but not well. And I don't have any idea how to use a pattern. It should have been a disaster, but went perfectly.) I was particularly pleased at how the fabrics from each costume complimented each other and gave the whole thing some cohesiveness.

I don't have a lot of spare time, so the whole business had to be assembled after M was in bed and my work/homework/cookiemaking done for the evening. It required 3 evenings of work, so around 12 hours. I only saw 4am once! And it was worth it:

She won Best Overall Costume at the festival, and to a 3 year old there isn't much better than an evening filled with dressing up, inflatables, candy, and fun that ends in a prize bag full of PlayDoh.

Tomorrow: Jessie the Yodeling cowgirl. YEEHAW!

 

September waning, autumn waxing. And Br'er Rabbit.

I do love the fall. And the bizarre, crackly energy of the changing seasons. The equinox was yesterday, and I'm typing away now under the thoughtful eye of the Harvest moonrise. 

(And for you nerds keeping score at home, YES, I am seeing my favourite Canadians next week and YES that was an intentional paraphrase) 

The season means it's time for me to put away my general pleasure reading material (all molecular physics, all the time) and pull out my auld favorites, like one Mr. Lovecraft. I don't know who to give credit to for this wonderful bit of artwork, but there you go. I think it kind of kicks tentacles, and I wish I had it on a t-shirt I could wear to the park to garner confused, wary glances from the other mothers. It's a shirt that would say to them, "No, I do not particularly want to come to your Mary Kay party," without me explicitly having to come out and say so. Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn. Huzzah.

segue

We are celebrating the season right this year with a trip to see the Mouse and bother him for candy. Did you know you can trick-or-treat in the Magic Kingdom? It's twue, it's twue! You're also supposed to get into the spirit of the whole thing and wear a costume, but the thought of trying to get on the teacups in a complete Nemo/Lightning McQueen/Cybermen/whatever we eventually choose for Halloween is daunting. And sounds really hot and uncomfortable as well. But as I cannot go to such an event with NO costume, I have to come up with something. I'm thinking a Star Wars theme, but we'll see. (Casting: Pookie as R2D2, Moi as a tie-fighter pilot, DJ as Lord Vader, all in t-shirt form) Please post any other suggestions. Note: I refuse to be Winnie the Pooh. (Not that I don't do some stoutness exercises now and then.)

Speaking of Disney, let me relate the tale of How I Was Accidentally Racist in Boone. We have a CD (thanks SMcB!) of all the ride music from Disney World. "It's a Small World" aside*, it's a wonderful grouping of tunes that remind you of the fun and nostalgia of the Happiest Place on Earth. *Small world will make you stick an ice pick in your ear after 5.5 listens. It's a bleeding ear version of the Tootsie Pop question.

 Pooks is particularly fond of Haunted Mansion (she has announced her intentions of riding it this trip; we'll see how long that bravado lasts) and Splash Mountain. Now, Splash Mountain is a great ride, a wonderful ride, a thrilling ride. And it is based on the Uncle Remus tales. Having been rather homogenized and Disneyfied, though, there is very little about it that could be considered objectionable, so I think nothing of letting Pooks listen to the music from it. 

So it was a lovely early fall afternoon in Boone-town, and we were driving to the tomato store (EarthFare) to pick up something undoubtedly sprouted-grainlike and overpriced, and listening to our Disney CD (and probably singing along). I pulled up to a stop light and noticed a group of african american students waiting to cross the street (sadly, this is notable in lily-white Boone), right as the "Zip a Dee Do Dah" part of the ride song came on and Br'er Rabbit's voiceover exclaimed "I gots to find me Br'er Bear and thank him for flingins me back home to mah briar patch!"

Oh shit. SHIT. I've been so glad to have some diversity in Boone FINALLY, and here I go playing "Song of the South" in my car. I had not, until that precise moment, ever even noticed that line in the song, and I've probably heard it 30 times or so. I reacted in a cowardly fashion, coughing loudly and looking straight ahead until the light changed. I wanted to lean out and explain myself, to tell them it was all about the magic of Disney and the fun of the story and the ride and isn't it a great ride?, but how can you possibly do that? I just looked like a racist prick with weird taste in music. (I'm only the latter.) My oh my, what an embarrassing day.