naamah_darling: The right-side canines of a wolf's skull; the upper canine is made of gold. (Default)
When I was little, Christmas Eve was the night of magic.  That was the night we got bundled up and went to my grandparents' house and met with the whole family for dinner and then opened presents by the fireplace.  It ended in oceans of torn paper and ribbons on everyone's heads, and sometimes ended in me going home with a pumpkin pie all to myself.  Boxes of gifts toted home.  Driving in the dark looking at the Christmas lights strung up everywhere.

The next morning was an orgy of presents and playing, but it wasn't the same.  It was the anticipation, the buildup before the main event, that I loved.  It was the glorious plateau of holiday ecstasy that started just after Thanksgiving.

I've always loved Christmas.  I loved lying under our tree watching the colored lights wink on and off, casting a forest of multicolored shadows on the wall, playing with my favorite ornaments among the tree limbs, telling stories.  I loved my felt stocking, pieced together by my mother.  I loved filling the stocking she had made for the cats.  I loved seeing them all in a row, beads and sequins glittering.  I loved our ugly tinsel garlands.  I loved that awful Christmas album we listened to over and over -- I bought a copy on LP, and can't find it now.  I loved watching the presents pile up under the tree, one by one, as the days went on.  I loved making ornaments and cookies.

It was a season of overarching magic, watching lights appear, hauling out the tree, thinking about winter, which as a child, was not an anxiety-provoking ordeal of potential power outages and icy roads, but a wonderland of footprints and frozen streams and cats big enough to ride made of snow with pine needles for whiskers.  Of a street choked with ice and therefore quiet.  The whole thing felt magical.   I had kind of a rough time, sometimes, at home, but the holidays called a kind of truce to that.  Not perfect, but better.  Everything felt huge, everything felt like it would last forever.

Now my Christmas magic is different.  It's very small.  It's in moments like this one, being able to help somebody with a meaningful thing, or in the handful of sand someone I don't even know sent me from Puerto Rico, and the letter they sent with it that touched me to the core, talking about how this was the first time they'd gone to the beach since their anxiety disorder had kicked in.  It's in making the people ringing me out at the store laugh and smile -- at this time of year, I really try hard to leave people feeling better than when I found them.

Sometimes it's in larger but still single moments like last night when friends presented the members of the gaming group with a spiral-bound notebook containing the summaries, the blog posts, the passed notes, everything pertaining to the Atlantis campaign.  (I said I would cry later when everyone was gone, and I totally did get all teary.)  Or the time I gave Sargon an entire island.  (Still so grateful for David and Jim for setting that up.)  Cookie parties, everyone's invited.  Timely, gorgeous art.

And for all that I wish for that grand magic to come back and fill the whole holiday season with hope and dreams, I am trying to be happy, comfortable, with the smaller magics.  With the one right word, the random act, the perfect gift, the still moments that fill the whole room with the silence of "holy crap, I love you guys."

It's been a rough year for so many people.  So many people feeling awful losses, ground down by grief or poverty or illness, sapped by adult life in a way that for the most part we try to keep away from our children.

So here it is, a virtual hearth-fire and a slightly overheated hassock and the popping of logs.  There's cookies.  Sit down, and if you have a happy memory, share one.  If you need one, take one.  Hopefully we can spread a little good cheer.
naamah_darling: The right-side canines of a wolf's skull; the upper canine is made of gold. (Christmas Spartaaans!)
The post-Christmas drop is hitting me like a bag of hammers. Jesus.

Had a really good day, though!

This year I made a gift for Sargon with materials provided by [livejournal.com profile] clayshaper and [livejournal.com profile] thatcaptjim and [livejournal.com profile] constant_heart, who get major thanks for making it possible. The present was a slam-dunk, and was appreciated exactly as much as I knew it would be. There will be pictures when I am finished editing them. It's very much an in-joke thing but I think you will be able to appreciate it anyway because it still looks cool.

I also made an awesome map box for friends (I am not sure if they want to be outed on this one?) that, again, there will be pictures of because it is fucking sweet.

The upshot of this is that I am dropping hardcore. I now have nothing else to occupy me, and am too mentally tired still to take on a new project.

It annoys the fuck out of me. I hate deadlines, I really do. But when I don't have something constructive I'm supposed to be doing, I feel like I feel now: limp as a noodle and useless and sad. What the hell?

Anyway. Fuck this depressing shit! I got some really, really fun stuff!

I got a make-your-own slime kit! With magnetic slime! I cannot WAIT to try this out, but it's going to have to wait until after cookie season, when I can reclaim the living room table. FOR SCIENCE!

And I got a black unicorn horn! Cast from a real narwhal horn! The only unicorn horn I'll ever be able to touch, alas.

And . . .

a . . .

DIRE WOLF BACULUM.

Well, a replica. But still. IMAGINE MY DELIGHT! It combines three of my keenest interests into one convenient object: osteology, wolves, and cock!

And oh my Christ, you guys, that thing is ENORMOUS. Like, I can't decide if the fact that these bastards are extinct is a relief or a tragedy.



Given that WYSIWYG with canine penis bones, this is quite impressive. The picture doesn't do it justice at all.

I post this, incidentally, not because it is the most important thing I have to show you, but because taking pics of the other stuff is way more complicated.

I also post it because I think there is a sore underappreciation for prehistoric mammal genitalia. It's not a field it's easy to find information on, you know?

And, let's be honest here, you would think I was losing my edge if I brought it up and DIDN'T make you look. Like, what's wrong with her?

I plan on putting it in this AWESOME old box that [livejournal.com profile] snowcoma found for me God-knows-where. There will be pictures of that, too, because the box is just too wicked cool not to show off.

Right now, I'm off to take the pictures of Sargon's present. AGAIN. Because I had the ISO set wrong on the last batch.
naamah_darling: The right-side canines of a wolf's skull; the upper canine is made of gold. (Christmas Spartaaans!)
The post-Christmas drop is hitting me like a bag of hammers. Jesus.

Had a really good day, though!

This year I made a gift for Sargon with materials provided by [livejournal.com profile] clayshaper and [livejournal.com profile] thatcaptjim and [livejournal.com profile] constant_heart, who get major thanks for making it possible. The present was a slam-dunk, and was appreciated exactly as much as I knew it would be. There will be pictures when I am finished editing them. It's very much an in-joke thing but I think you will be able to appreciate it anyway because it still looks cool.

I also made an awesome map box for friends (I am not sure if they want to be outed on this one?) that, again, there will be pictures of because it is fucking sweet.

The upshot of this is that I am dropping hardcore. I now have nothing else to occupy me, and am too mentally tired still to take on a new project.

It annoys the fuck out of me. I hate deadlines, I really do. But when I don't have something constructive I'm supposed to be doing, I feel like I feel now: limp as a noodle and useless and sad. What the hell?

Anyway. Fuck this depressing shit! I got some really, really fun stuff!

I got a make-your-own slime kit! With magnetic slime! I cannot WAIT to try this out, but it's going to have to wait until after cookie season, when I can reclaim the living room table. FOR SCIENCE!

And I got a black unicorn horn! Cast from a real narwhal horn! The only unicorn horn I'll ever be able to touch, alas.

And . . .

a . . .

DIRE WOLF BACULUM.

Well, a replica. But still. IMAGINE MY DELIGHT! It combines three of my keenest interests into one convenient object: osteology, wolves, and cock!

And oh my Christ, you guys, that thing is ENORMOUS. Like, I can't decide if the fact that these bastards are extinct is a relief or a tragedy.



Given that WYSIWYG with canine penis bones, this is quite impressive. The picture doesn't do it justice at all.

I post this, incidentally, not because it is the most important thing I have to show you, but because taking pics of the other stuff is way more complicated.

I also post it because I think there is a sore underappreciation for prehistoric mammal genitalia. It's not a field it's easy to find information on, you know?

And, let's be honest here, you would think I was losing my edge if I brought it up and DIDN'T make you look. Like, what's wrong with her?

I plan on putting it in this AWESOME old box that [livejournal.com profile] snowcoma found for me God-knows-where. There will be pictures of that, too, because the box is just too wicked cool not to show off.

Right now, I'm off to take the pictures of Sargon's present. AGAIN. Because I had the ISO set wrong on the last batch.
naamah_darling: The right-side canines of a wolf's skull; the upper canine is made of gold. (Christmas Spartaaans!)
I know it's just a little late, Christmas being so close and all, but if you have an Etsy shop, by all means drop a link in the comments here. I'll go add them to the main body of the post.

Many of these folks won't be able to ship again before Christmas, but remember: late gifts are freakin' awesome and prolong the happiness of the season. I am into late gifts, always have been. Also, maybe you get Christmas money. Bad luck to leave it sitting around until the new year. Ahem.

Since she kick-started the idea, and I said I would, I will start with [livejournal.com profile] queenlyzard's The Fun and the Crafty: cute woven pine needle baskets.

Sihaya Designs Jewelry by the lovely [livejournal.com profile] sihaya09: gorgeous and sturdy beadwork and jewelry. Recommended.

Silver Owl Creations by [livejournal.com profile] arianhwyvar: stunning wire-wrapped clockwork key jewelry, omg.

Dark Side Tribal by [livejournal.com profile] rhiannon76: Verrah nice tribal bellydance accoutrements.

Bookity: doomed books upcyled into all sorts of neat things!

Eternal Magpie: a charming hodgepodge of embroidery, knitting, and wire-wrapped jewelry.

Pointy Kitty Studios by [livejournal.com profile] alyska: Lovely hand-hammered metalwork pendants.

Alt.Kilt by [livejournal.com profile] techdragon: steampunk costumery . . . including kilts.

Eli Quinn Cards: adorable Christmas cards with beautiful art. Not much there now, but worth watching!

Daemon Noire Jewelry by [livejournal.com profile] daemonnoire: lovely beaded jewelry.

Green Owl Curiosities: jewelry, purses, plushies, bookmarks . . . much of it with a pagan bent. Cool.

Catch A Dream by [livejournal.com profile] shadowwolf13: dreamcatchers! All kinds of dreamcatchers! REALLY surprising variety, and very neat work!

Anapurna by [livejournal.com profile] pearlandopal: fantasy-themed jewelry, some REALLY beautiful stuff here.

GossamerSong by [livejournal.com profile] anachred: Really cool hand-spun yarn with a fantasy theme. I have fondled this. It's awesome.

AFMetalsmith by [livejournal.com profile] cissa: handmade original jewelry and metalworking, much with Celtic elements.

Crowbirdie Beads: lampwork beads shaped like critters! Insanely cute!

Not Etsy, but included because of the awesome: Brain Storms knitted mohawk hats. I can't even describe this. It's too awesome.

Magdalune by [livejournal.com profile] lunalelle: ice cream sundae jewelry, bold and bright and really cute!

A Marketplace of Ideas also by [livejournal.com profile] lunalelle: beautiful jewelry, very elegant. All very pretty, and some of this is just amazing.

Thellie's Jewelry by [livejournal.com profile] malruniel11: delicate beadwork jewelry.

Aggiebell's Shop by [livejournal.com profile] aggiebell: very pretty jewelry, much of it earthreads. Very cool.

The Creative Reader by [livejournal.com profile] jennythe_reader: colorful decoupage!
naamah_darling: The right-side canines of a wolf's skull; the upper canine is made of gold. (Christmas Spartaaans!)
I know it's just a little late, Christmas being so close and all, but if you have an Etsy shop, by all means drop a link in the comments here. I'll go add them to the main body of the post.

Many of these folks won't be able to ship again before Christmas, but remember: late gifts are freakin' awesome and prolong the happiness of the season. I am into late gifts, always have been. Also, maybe you get Christmas money. Bad luck to leave it sitting around until the new year. Ahem.

Since she kick-started the idea, and I said I would, I will start with [livejournal.com profile] queenlyzard's The Fun and the Crafty: cute woven pine needle baskets.

Sihaya Designs Jewelry by the lovely [livejournal.com profile] sihaya09: gorgeous and sturdy beadwork and jewelry. Recommended.

Silver Owl Creations by [livejournal.com profile] arianhwyvar: stunning wire-wrapped clockwork key jewelry, omg.

Dark Side Tribal by [livejournal.com profile] rhiannon76: Verrah nice tribal bellydance accoutrements.

Bookity: doomed books upcyled into all sorts of neat things!

Eternal Magpie: a charming hodgepodge of embroidery, knitting, and wire-wrapped jewelry.

Pointy Kitty Studios by [livejournal.com profile] alyska: Lovely hand-hammered metalwork pendants.

Alt.Kilt by [livejournal.com profile] techdragon: steampunk costumery . . . including kilts.

Eli Quinn Cards: adorable Christmas cards with beautiful art. Not much there now, but worth watching!

Daemon Noire Jewelry by [livejournal.com profile] daemonnoire: lovely beaded jewelry.

Green Owl Curiosities: jewelry, purses, plushies, bookmarks . . . much of it with a pagan bent. Cool.

Catch A Dream by [livejournal.com profile] shadowwolf13: dreamcatchers! All kinds of dreamcatchers! REALLY surprising variety, and very neat work!

Anapurna by [livejournal.com profile] pearlandopal: fantasy-themed jewelry, some REALLY beautiful stuff here.

GossamerSong by [livejournal.com profile] anachred: Really cool hand-spun yarn with a fantasy theme. I have fondled this. It's awesome.

AFMetalsmith by [livejournal.com profile] cissa: handmade original jewelry and metalworking, much with Celtic elements.

Crowbirdie Beads: lampwork beads shaped like critters! Insanely cute!

Not Etsy, but included because of the awesome: Brain Storms knitted mohawk hats. I can't even describe this. It's too awesome.

Magdalune by [livejournal.com profile] lunalelle: ice cream sundae jewelry, bold and bright and really cute!

A Marketplace of Ideas also by [livejournal.com profile] lunalelle: beautiful jewelry, very elegant. All very pretty, and some of this is just amazing.

Thellie's Jewelry by [livejournal.com profile] malruniel11: delicate beadwork jewelry.

Aggiebell's Shop by [livejournal.com profile] aggiebell: very pretty jewelry, much of it earthreads. Very cool.

The Creative Reader by [livejournal.com profile] jennythe_reader: colorful decoupage!
naamah_darling: The right-side canines of a wolf's skull; the upper canine is made of gold. (Christmas Fuck You)
Well. Since I've been promising, here's pictures of the house and some Christmas stuff and some cats.

I can tell you are all just enthralled.

Let's start with the paint job in the master bedroom:

Master Bedroom 01
That's with the blinds closed, at about ten in the morning.

Master Bedroom 02
With the blinds open the room transforms. It's impossible to convey in photos, but the golden color in the walls just glows. The metallic chair rail doesn't hurt, either.

Below the cut are more pictures of house stuff and Christmas stuff. Including a couple of pictures of Fish. )

Anyway, hope you enjoyed. We're settling in here, though it's a long process. I don't know how people can move and just . . . make a place home, just like that. I was a really settled kid, we traveled but didn't ever move our home base, so I always spend several months really disoriented every time I have to move. It's worse than it used to be, too. Maybe it's the time of year, I don't know.

Anyway, happy new year, guys. I hope it's a better one than the last one, which was really unkind to a lot of you.
naamah_darling: The right-side canines of a wolf's skull; the upper canine is made of gold. (Christmas Fuck You)
Well. Since I've been promising, here's pictures of the house and some Christmas stuff and some cats.

I can tell you are all just enthralled.

Let's start with the paint job in the master bedroom:

Master Bedroom 01
That's with the blinds closed, at about ten in the morning.

Master Bedroom 02
With the blinds open the room transforms. It's impossible to convey in photos, but the golden color in the walls just glows. The metallic chair rail doesn't hurt, either.

Below the cut are more pictures of house stuff and Christmas stuff. Including a couple of pictures of Fish. )

Anyway, hope you enjoyed. We're settling in here, though it's a long process. I don't know how people can move and just . . . make a place home, just like that. I was a really settled kid, we traveled but didn't ever move our home base, so I always spend several months really disoriented every time I have to move. It's worse than it used to be, too. Maybe it's the time of year, I don't know.

Anyway, happy new year, guys. I hope it's a better one than the last one, which was really unkind to a lot of you.

Jingle.

Dec. 11th, 2008 02:05 am
naamah_darling: The right-side canines of a wolf's skull; the upper canine is made of gold. (Christmas Clark)
So, I had that head cold a while back, and it filled my mind with the most distractingly randy thoughts. I don't know why this always happens. The 'flu kills my sex drive deader than Julius Caesar, but a cold turns it into a rampaging juggernaut of filth. It hasn't stopped, either.

And it's officially Christmas season, too, which means that I walk into a store and within five minutes, Jingle Bell Rock will come on. It's like a curse.

The thing is, Jingle Bell Rock always reminds me of ponyboys. I cannot explain this. I truly cannot. The connection formed one day* and is apparently now indelible. It's embarrassing. I have always said I hate that song, but I now have a Pavlovian reaction to it. I get all misty-eyed. I stop in the middle of sentences and just drift away. People tolerate this with good humor. I guess they think I'm reminiscing or something.

I'm really thinking about Steven Strait and Tom Welling in jingly harnesses and bits, with pony-tail butt-plugs. Usually someone stops me before they are being riding-cropped into running a race in the snow to see who gets to mount the other. Kate Beckinsale will do for the severe, crop-wielding trainer if Monica Belluci has the day off. Just so long as they can turn the dirty talk up to eleven.

So it is not without a sense of deep irony that I opened my mail today and found this lovely bit of SO VERY NOT SAFE FOR WORK perversity tucked inside my spanking-new hardcover of Michael Manning's Inamorata. It's a small ink original, 4" x 4".

I turned a list of my kinks over to [livejournal.com profile] metalweb for the commission (and boy, wasn't that an educational little exercise) and lo and behold, I get kink in return. Drooling young ponyboys, three-ways, buttsex, leather harnesses, and helpless lust.

Oh, god, I can't wait to frame this and hang it where my in-laws will see it.

Giddy-up, jingle horse, pick up your feet. . . .

* With very little digging, I went back and found the exact day, too. Would it surprise you to learn that [livejournal.com profile] metalweb is responsible? I thought not. I didn't get the appeal of ponyboys until I saw his work. It's a little odd actually being able to identify someone who made my mind even dirtier.

Jingle.

Dec. 11th, 2008 02:05 am
naamah_darling: The right-side canines of a wolf's skull; the upper canine is made of gold. (Christmas Clark)
So, I had that head cold a while back, and it filled my mind with the most distractingly randy thoughts. I don't know why this always happens. The 'flu kills my sex drive deader than Julius Caesar, but a cold turns it into a rampaging juggernaut of filth. It hasn't stopped, either.

And it's officially Christmas season, too, which means that I walk into a store and within five minutes, Jingle Bell Rock will come on. It's like a curse.

The thing is, Jingle Bell Rock always reminds me of ponyboys. I cannot explain this. I truly cannot. The connection formed one day* and is apparently now indelible. It's embarrassing. I have always said I hate that song, but I now have a Pavlovian reaction to it. I get all misty-eyed. I stop in the middle of sentences and just drift away. People tolerate this with good humor. I guess they think I'm reminiscing or something.

I'm really thinking about Steven Strait and Tom Welling in jingly harnesses and bits, with pony-tail butt-plugs. Usually someone stops me before they are being riding-cropped into running a race in the snow to see who gets to mount the other. Kate Beckinsale will do for the severe, crop-wielding trainer if Monica Belluci has the day off. Just so long as they can turn the dirty talk up to eleven.

So it is not without a sense of deep irony that I opened my mail today and found this lovely bit of SO VERY NOT SAFE FOR WORK perversity tucked inside my spanking-new hardcover of Michael Manning's Inamorata. It's a small ink original, 4" x 4".

I turned a list of my kinks over to [livejournal.com profile] metalweb for the commission (and boy, wasn't that an educational little exercise) and lo and behold, I get kink in return. Drooling young ponyboys, three-ways, buttsex, leather harnesses, and helpless lust.

Oh, god, I can't wait to frame this and hang it where my in-laws will see it.

Giddy-up, jingle horse, pick up your feet. . . .

* With very little digging, I went back and found the exact day, too. Would it surprise you to learn that [livejournal.com profile] metalweb is responsible? I thought not. I didn't get the appeal of ponyboys until I saw his work. It's a little odd actually being able to identify someone who made my mind even dirtier.
naamah_darling: The right-side canines of a wolf's skull; the upper canine is made of gold. (Christmas Spartaaans!)
From the OSFW Christmas party, a small battery of pictures.

OSFW Christmas Party 03

Merry Christmas . . .

OSFW Christmas Party 02

. . . you FUCKERS!

That's me, [livejournal.com profile] bat_cheva, and [livejournal.com profile] apocalypticbob. Also known, apparently, as The Boob Brigade.

OSFW Christmas Party 01

Me and [livejournal.com profile] bat_cheva, we are silly.

And because it's been requested, pictures of my tit, and attendant piercing:

TIIIT! )

OSFW Christmas Party 04

And on that nicely pagan note, I shall leave you to get back to your day.
naamah_darling: The right-side canines of a wolf's skull; the upper canine is made of gold. (Christmas Spartaaans!)
From the OSFW Christmas party, a small battery of pictures.

OSFW Christmas Party 03

Merry Christmas . . .

OSFW Christmas Party 02

. . . you FUCKERS!

That's me, [livejournal.com profile] bat_cheva, and [livejournal.com profile] apocalypticbob. Also known, apparently, as The Boob Brigade.

OSFW Christmas Party 01

Me and [livejournal.com profile] bat_cheva, we are silly.

And because it's been requested, pictures of my tit, and attendant piercing:

TIIIT! )

OSFW Christmas Party 04

And on that nicely pagan note, I shall leave you to get back to your day.
naamah_darling: The Punisher skull wearing a Santa hat. (Christmas Punisher)
A month late and several dollars short, but hey, a nine-day blackout will do that for you.

Yes, my Christmas cheer is late, but goddammit, you are going to smile when you see it.

A Very Hairy Christmas 03

Christmas morning!

Tazendra comes downstairs and looks for her presents.

She's standing on a Girl Genius graphic novel, by the way.

More! More! )

There, now. Don't you feel better?

More later, including a picture of my Christmas tit piercing.

No, srsly.
naamah_darling: The Punisher skull wearing a Santa hat. (Christmas Punisher)
A month late and several dollars short, but hey, a nine-day blackout will do that for you.

Yes, my Christmas cheer is late, but goddammit, you are going to smile when you see it.

A Very Hairy Christmas 03

Christmas morning!

Tazendra comes downstairs and looks for her presents.

She's standing on a Girl Genius graphic novel, by the way.

More! More! )

There, now. Don't you feel better?

More later, including a picture of my Christmas tit piercing.

No, srsly.
naamah_darling: The right-side canines of a wolf's skull; the upper canine is made of gold. (Kitty Love!)
Sifmas 01

Merry Sifmas, all!

Click for amusing pictures of the other two, as well as a super-cute cat cuddling picture. )

And one more I simply must inflict on you, just so you have double your daily cute dose. Sargon caught me sleeping in a sunbeam with Fish.

Snugglefish

It does not get much better than that, folks. It just doesn't.

I've done a lot of animal snuggling, lately.
naamah_darling: The right-side canines of a wolf's skull; the upper canine is made of gold. (Kitty Love!)
Sifmas 01

Merry Sifmas, all!

Click for amusing pictures of the other two, as well as a super-cute cat cuddling picture. )

And one more I simply must inflict on you, just so you have double your daily cute dose. Sargon caught me sleeping in a sunbeam with Fish.

Snugglefish

It does not get much better than that, folks. It just doesn't.

I've done a lot of animal snuggling, lately.
naamah_darling: The right-side canines of a wolf's skull; the upper canine is made of gold. (Christmas Fuck You)
It is the eve of the new year.

THANK FOOKING GOD.

Courtesy of [livejournal.com profile] bat_cheva, I have been made aware of this shirt, which sums up my feelings on the past year quite nicely. Raise your hand if you're with me.

Actually, no, on second thought, how about we just assume it sucked for everyone? If it was swell for you, you can feel free to speak up while we all stare daggers at you from the doorway, where we are busily trying to kick 2007 out on its ass.

Everyone close to me has had a shitty year. And as for December . . . ugh.

Due to Life Stuff that I hadn't been much discussing, I was already feeling tired and more ho-hum than ho-ho-ho, and I had only just mustered the wherewithal to start decorating when the power went down. Our Christmas tree stood alone in the freezing cold back room for nine days with but a single ornament dangling from its naked branches. We only got it decorated the Thursday before Christmas. Thurs. Day.

On Christmas eve I sat up all night in my chair with Tazendra in my lap, just staring at the tree and the presents. It was the only time I had to really wallow in pleasant anticipation.

Needless to say, we are leaving the tree up until April if we feel so inclined.

Actually, we have two trees. The first is the really big one covered in superhero action figures, same as last year. The other we erected in our dining room and I decorated it according to the whim of my inner pimp. It is festooned with multicolored gewgaws of indescribable hideousness, a great many of them involving real peacock tailfeathers and/or glitter. The pornaments' collective tackiness achieves a kind of grandeur. It was remarkable in its gaudiness even before my sister gave me several more ornaments made of beads and rooster coverts.

I have now achieved my lifelong dream of having a tree covered in iridescent ass feathers.*

My eventual goal is to take a male fashion doll and turn into a little peacock-feathered Malik Tous. (. . . I think you probably have to be an over-educated creep to understand the deep sarcasm there.) I know they don't make many long-haired boy dolls, but if I can find one I like the look of, I can always pay someone to dress and re-hair it.

A Jack Sparrow doll would make a beautiful Peacock Lord. this doll from Tonner is absolutely gorgeous. It is, however, asspensive. It is also too tall.

It will probably be a couple of years before I can find the right thing, but that's okay. In the meantime, I can concoct something tacky as hell.

Anyway, Christmas. There was an enormous pile of gorgeous presents under the superhero tree on Christmas eve, which was comprised of roughly 80% schlock. I must have gotten Sargon a dozen terrible movies. We're talking stuff like Reptile Invasion and The Man Without a Head. I'd have bought him good movies but honestly, who sits around their house in their underwear watching quality cinema while they scratch their privates and fan at cat farts?** Nobody I would like to know. That is certain.

I am extra grateful to everyone who sent presents or cards. It was a good Christmas.

I got pictures of the decorated trees and the presents before and after they were opened, and, predictably, pictures of the cats behaving in unnaturally cute ways. I'll get them up when I have time. I'm just so. Damn. Tired. I mean, it's taken me three days to write this fucking entry, so yeah, tired.

Right now I am going to wrap up, kick the cat out of my lap, and prepare for the New Year.

Here's a toast: To the new year! May it suck less than the last, for all of us.

Celebrate, people! And come home safe.

* I have also achieved another lifelong dream: every horizontal surface in my house seems to be covered with a fine coating of glitter.

**
naamah_darling: The right-side canines of a wolf's skull; the upper canine is made of gold. (Christmas Fuck You)
It is the eve of the new year.

THANK FOOKING GOD.

Courtesy of [livejournal.com profile] bat_cheva, I have been made aware of this shirt, which sums up my feelings on the past year quite nicely. Raise your hand if you're with me.

Actually, no, on second thought, how about we just assume it sucked for everyone? If it was swell for you, you can feel free to speak up while we all stare daggers at you from the doorway, where we are busily trying to kick 2007 out on its ass.

Everyone close to me has had a shitty year. And as for December . . . ugh.

Due to Life Stuff that I hadn't been much discussing, I was already feeling tired and more ho-hum than ho-ho-ho, and I had only just mustered the wherewithal to start decorating when the power went down. Our Christmas tree stood alone in the freezing cold back room for nine days with but a single ornament dangling from its naked branches. We only got it decorated the Thursday before Christmas. Thurs. Day.

On Christmas eve I sat up all night in my chair with Tazendra in my lap, just staring at the tree and the presents. It was the only time I had to really wallow in pleasant anticipation.

Needless to say, we are leaving the tree up until April if we feel so inclined.

Actually, we have two trees. The first is the really big one covered in superhero action figures, same as last year. The other we erected in our dining room and I decorated it according to the whim of my inner pimp. It is festooned with multicolored gewgaws of indescribable hideousness, a great many of them involving real peacock tailfeathers and/or glitter. The pornaments' collective tackiness achieves a kind of grandeur. It was remarkable in its gaudiness even before my sister gave me several more ornaments made of beads and rooster coverts.

I have now achieved my lifelong dream of having a tree covered in iridescent ass feathers.*

My eventual goal is to take a male fashion doll and turn into a little peacock-feathered Malik Tous. (. . . I think you probably have to be an over-educated creep to understand the deep sarcasm there.) I know they don't make many long-haired boy dolls, but if I can find one I like the look of, I can always pay someone to dress and re-hair it.

A Jack Sparrow doll would make a beautiful Peacock Lord. this doll from Tonner is absolutely gorgeous. It is, however, asspensive. It is also too tall.

It will probably be a couple of years before I can find the right thing, but that's okay. In the meantime, I can concoct something tacky as hell.

Anyway, Christmas. There was an enormous pile of gorgeous presents under the superhero tree on Christmas eve, which was comprised of roughly 80% schlock. I must have gotten Sargon a dozen terrible movies. We're talking stuff like Reptile Invasion and The Man Without a Head. I'd have bought him good movies but honestly, who sits around their house in their underwear watching quality cinema while they scratch their privates and fan at cat farts?** Nobody I would like to know. That is certain.

I am extra grateful to everyone who sent presents or cards. It was a good Christmas.

I got pictures of the decorated trees and the presents before and after they were opened, and, predictably, pictures of the cats behaving in unnaturally cute ways. I'll get them up when I have time. I'm just so. Damn. Tired. I mean, it's taken me three days to write this fucking entry, so yeah, tired.

Right now I am going to wrap up, kick the cat out of my lap, and prepare for the New Year.

Here's a toast: To the new year! May it suck less than the last, for all of us.

Celebrate, people! And come home safe.

* I have also achieved another lifelong dream: every horizontal surface in my house seems to be covered with a fine coating of glitter.

**
naamah_darling: The right-side canines of a wolf's skull; the upper canine is made of gold. (Christmas Spartaaans!)
First up, big, huge, smacky kitty kisses for [livejournal.com profile] bifemmefatale, [livejournal.com profile] kittykiya, and one person whose LJ handle I am not sticking to the name* because I am BAD AT THAT.**

I now have a very potentially useful book on writing SF and fantasy with, yes, amusing outdated references to dot matrix printers, but solid essays by people with, you know, actual brains and experience. I also have a freaking awesome Royo calendar, ensuring that next year I will not lack for industrial goth chicks, vampires, she-demons, and general hotness; I've had a Royo calendar in my kitchen for years now. The remaining package contained two smaller gift-wrapped packages, and I have no idea what's in them besides "Hey, there! BOOKS!"

Thank y'all!

In other news, I am almost done shopping. Which is good, because, you know, I hate shopping even when it isn't asshole day. To me, it is not like a fun little treasure hunt. As I seek to get in, find what I want, and get out unscathed, it is more like combat. Hence the icon.***

I realize that Amazon is the Great Satan that drove mom and pop bookstores out of business, but it allows me to do most of my shopping far from traffic and morons. It's also cheaper and is not limited to stock on hand. Or what is legal in this state. Aheh.

A year minus two days ago, I wrote about what a dirty Christmas slut I am. And you know, I still fucking love Christmas, but I am just not feeling the spirit this year in quite the same way. I have a new Santa hat, and Jingle Bell Rock still conjures up evil mental images involving Steven Strait and Tom Welling, but I haven't put the tree up yet. I'm not wearing the hat into traffic or accosting strangers with Christmas carols.

I'm just tired. This year has been so foul in so many ways. I feel fine now, I'm cheerful, I'm not depressed, but I just don't want more bustle and fussing and work. I don't feel like swearing over the Christmas lights or putting all my action figures on hangers or locating the tree skirt or addressing Christmas cards or making cookies. Well, I do, but I want another month to do it.

You know, I want to fucking hibernate. I want to eat berries until I am happily fat, burrow into a comfortable dark place, and sleep until March.

There is not a total lack of hope. There's a party on Saturday that may kick me into gear. When I sit down with my cards, I may just find that I feel like addressing them after all. I must admit, the urge to put the names of imaginary people in the return address slot is already incredibly tempting, and I don't even have them in front of me. I am excited about watching other people open the presents I have bought or made for them, and I'm very curious about the wrapped packages with my name on them.

And it's definitively becoming more Christmasy outside. Weather here might have turned at last. I spent last night underneath four blankets and two cats, and was still cold. The cats normally dislike being under the covers with me, but last night they lay sandwiched between blankets two and three, leaving their fat little forequarters poking out on different ends of the bed.

It's not quite Christmas cheer, but it sure is cheerful.

* Which for privacy reasons I am hesitant to divulge, so there you go. Could I vague this up for you any further?!

** I give people nicknames in my head, and once you have one, that is pretty much what I will call you forever. Livejournal handles do not slip out of my head the way "real" names do. I mean, if someone calls themselves "ElectricFucknut," I will pretty much always call them "ElectricFucknut." I don't care if their real name is John. I know thirty Johns. I only know one ElectricFucknut. There is also a strong possibility that I will remember your pet's name, but not yours. Please, someone tell me I am not alone!

*** I know I'm getting a 300 icon pretty late in the game, but I'm sorry, that shit will still be funny in ten years. Besides, it was Sargon's idea. That makes it cool.
naamah_darling: The right-side canines of a wolf's skull; the upper canine is made of gold. (Christmas Spartaaans!)
First up, big, huge, smacky kitty kisses for [livejournal.com profile] bifemmefatale, [livejournal.com profile] kittykiya, and one person whose LJ handle I am not sticking to the name* because I am BAD AT THAT.**

I now have a very potentially useful book on writing SF and fantasy with, yes, amusing outdated references to dot matrix printers, but solid essays by people with, you know, actual brains and experience. I also have a freaking awesome Royo calendar, ensuring that next year I will not lack for industrial goth chicks, vampires, she-demons, and general hotness; I've had a Royo calendar in my kitchen for years now. The remaining package contained two smaller gift-wrapped packages, and I have no idea what's in them besides "Hey, there! BOOKS!"

Thank y'all!

In other news, I am almost done shopping. Which is good, because, you know, I hate shopping even when it isn't asshole day. To me, it is not like a fun little treasure hunt. As I seek to get in, find what I want, and get out unscathed, it is more like combat. Hence the icon.***

I realize that Amazon is the Great Satan that drove mom and pop bookstores out of business, but it allows me to do most of my shopping far from traffic and morons. It's also cheaper and is not limited to stock on hand. Or what is legal in this state. Aheh.

A year minus two days ago, I wrote about what a dirty Christmas slut I am. And you know, I still fucking love Christmas, but I am just not feeling the spirit this year in quite the same way. I have a new Santa hat, and Jingle Bell Rock still conjures up evil mental images involving Steven Strait and Tom Welling, but I haven't put the tree up yet. I'm not wearing the hat into traffic or accosting strangers with Christmas carols.

I'm just tired. This year has been so foul in so many ways. I feel fine now, I'm cheerful, I'm not depressed, but I just don't want more bustle and fussing and work. I don't feel like swearing over the Christmas lights or putting all my action figures on hangers or locating the tree skirt or addressing Christmas cards or making cookies. Well, I do, but I want another month to do it.

You know, I want to fucking hibernate. I want to eat berries until I am happily fat, burrow into a comfortable dark place, and sleep until March.

There is not a total lack of hope. There's a party on Saturday that may kick me into gear. When I sit down with my cards, I may just find that I feel like addressing them after all. I must admit, the urge to put the names of imaginary people in the return address slot is already incredibly tempting, and I don't even have them in front of me. I am excited about watching other people open the presents I have bought or made for them, and I'm very curious about the wrapped packages with my name on them.

And it's definitively becoming more Christmasy outside. Weather here might have turned at last. I spent last night underneath four blankets and two cats, and was still cold. The cats normally dislike being under the covers with me, but last night they lay sandwiched between blankets two and three, leaving their fat little forequarters poking out on different ends of the bed.

It's not quite Christmas cheer, but it sure is cheerful.

* Which for privacy reasons I am hesitant to divulge, so there you go. Could I vague this up for you any further?!

** I give people nicknames in my head, and once you have one, that is pretty much what I will call you forever. Livejournal handles do not slip out of my head the way "real" names do. I mean, if someone calls themselves "ElectricFucknut," I will pretty much always call them "ElectricFucknut." I don't care if their real name is John. I know thirty Johns. I only know one ElectricFucknut. There is also a strong possibility that I will remember your pet's name, but not yours. Please, someone tell me I am not alone!

*** I know I'm getting a 300 icon pretty late in the game, but I'm sorry, that shit will still be funny in ten years. Besides, it was Sargon's idea. That makes it cool.
naamah_darling: The right-side canines of a wolf's skull; the upper canine is made of gold. (Christmas Fuck You)
While making out the short list of folks to get holiday cards, I had this niggling feeling I was forgetting someone.

I was trying to save spots back for my grandparents and my uncle Jim.

Christ. It's like stubbing a mental toe.

At least it's no longer "Mom and Dad." It's just Dad. I can fucking remember that much.

Feh.

I'm really not ready for Christmas this year. My internal clock thinks it's 10 in the morning, sometime in August.

I'm only barely on the ball enough to make simple gifts, and a self-produced card isn't going to happen unless I get some truly badass pictures tomorrow. Some friends are dragging me out (thank GOD) to go to the Philbrook for the annual orgy of Christmas trees and gingerbread houses. I'm not even in the mood to put up the tree, even though that would be a very quick way to get good pictures of the cats.

It's not that I'm not feeling that festive spirit. I so totally am. I'm just bloody tired!

It's okay. December isn't for a couple of days. I usually don't hit Christmas panic mode until after the month turns over. There's still a chance for me to contract a raging case of holiday spirit.

Preferably after rubbing myself up against a dirty, dirty reindeer boy with a--

Oh, I am so not finishing that thought.

I'm going to bed!

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