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The Time I Went to SantaCon

December 24, 2012 1 comment

So, SantaCon is (by this point) an international parade of Santas and drunkenness.

The NYC one is pretty huge every year, though I had never gone before. Mostly because I didn’t want to be trampled by surly Santas. But since I’m never one to turn down an opportunity to wear a costume in public, I decided to attend.

The celebration was on December 15 this year, and it was crowded, but luckily not the shit show I had been anticipating. I dressed as a reindeer and swam as a furry lump of brown in a sea of cheap red velveteen. People were drunk, and I got stepped on a few times, but most people were actually more jolly than out of control. Every bar even vaguely on the Santa route had people lining up for 30+ minutes just to get inside, so my co-worker and I popped into the largest bars we could find. Once inside, it was nearly impossible to get a drink, but with patience, we were finally able to enjoy ourselves amidst the nearly 30,000 people dressed up and hammered that day.

Also, these photos have once again reminded me that I need to lose some weight. Sigh. Below are also photos of a packed Santa bar (off the route, so at least you could breathe in there), and this one girl’s awesome homemade menorah costume. All the candles lit up!

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The Time I Carved a Pumpkin

October 24, 2012 Leave a comment

As has been covered on this blog before, I really like pumpkins and Halloween. Last year, I wrote about my annual pumpkin party, where friends get together to eat pumpkin goodies and carve late into the night.

This past weekend was my 6th annual pumpkin party, and this year’s internet-themed pumpkin is, of course, Gangnam Style. In the past, I’ve done LOLcat (LOLkin?) and Dramatic Chipmunk/Prairie Dog pumpkins.

This year, I tried to raise the bar by attempting text not only in English, but also in Korean. This took ages, and was pretty much a terrible idea, but I think it turned out okay in the end. I messed up the first “a” and “n” in “Gangnam,” but I tried my best!

The Time I Bought Costumes

September 12, 2012 Leave a comment

So, I’m a bit obsessed with Halloween and costumes in general.

Now, I’ve talked about costumes here before. I’ve dressed up as Hermione in Japan, a crazed Swan Lake ballerina, a space mouse (and one year, a space TIGER), and a 1920s flapper (TWICE).

So perhaps it’s no surprise that I’ve already purchased most of my costume for Halloween this year. And it’s pretty much all from China via eBay since I’m cheap. Can you figure out what I’m going to be?

 
What, did you not guess a skeletal undead gothic lolita? Because of course I’m going to be that. DUH.

The Time I Made Jello

July 4, 2012 Leave a comment

Well, it’s 4th of July here in the states, and I’m feeling lazy (even though my foot is still busted). I still can’t walk for shit, but that hasn’t stopped me from making not one, not two, but THREE varieties of jello shot for the occasion. I don’t know what the hell I’m going to do with all this boozy jello.

So in lieu of a real post today, I will leave you with this really freaky anime eye makeup tutorial that I watched last night. Because that’s the kind of shit I do at 1 am on a Tuesday.

 

 

Oh, and also a picture of the Mojito jello shots I made following this recipe, except that I was EXTRA lazy and used bottled lime juice and mint extract instead of real ingredients. Still tastes fine to me! I topped it with plain white sugar, which immediately melted.

The Time I Went to Miami

June 11, 2012 2 comments

The Time I Got Sunburned

February 22, 2012 1 comment

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Every year, my family used to take a trip to Sanibel Island, which is off the Western coast of Florida in the Gulf of Mexico.

It’s a beautiful place with strangely warm waters and white sands. I have fond memories of our time in a rented condo, but one thing always went wrong every year. On the day of our arrival, I’d always get so sunburned that I’d be forced to be a hermit for the remainder of our vacation week.

Despite this happening every time, I never learned. Some sunscreen could have prevented the whole painful process, but I wanted to be tan more than anything. All of my friends would become a beautiful nut brown color in the summers, but I would remain as pale and pasty as ever. Somehow, I thought my translucent skin was simply the result of a lack of will. If I just sat in the sun LONG enough, I’d tan like everyone else, and would stop looking so sickly all year.

But this was not to be, and each time I’d become as red as a lobster. I’d lounge around the condo, feverish and ashamed. I’d refuse to go out to dinner with the family, and would instead just sit around in clothing slick with aloe. They’d bring me food back, but I wouldn’t be hungry.

One year, I burned so badly that my eyelids swelled shut, and I woke up in the middle of night thinking I had gone blind. It hurt to blink, and I had burned the bottoms of my feet as well, so it hurt to walk. My armpits were aflame, and so it hurt to lower my arms. I sat on the bed, arms akimbo, and cried salty tears, which of course just aggravated the burns even more. The next day, blisters formed all over my body, which meant I had managed to give myself 2nd degree burns after a few hours in the Florida sun.

I eventually learned to slather on sunscreen like my life depended on it, though I worry about what damage I’ve already caused. I’ve heard that serious sunburns earlier in life can raise your risk for skin cancer as an adult. Nowadays, I notice that I burn after only 15 minutes or so in the sun, and I always sit under a huge umbrella and hat if I go to the beach.

I know now that my paleness is here to stay, but I hope it’s not too late.

The Time I Became a Swan

February 10, 2012 2 comments

As has been covered before in this blog, I really like Halloween.

Last year, I was Hit Girl from the movie Kick-Ass which, while a warm costume, had people think I was perhaps 11 years old. This year, I decided to do a costume based on the movie Black Swan. There were a few ways to go with this costume, and my first idea was just to join up with a friend and have one of us be the White Swan, and the other be the Black Swan. But let’s just say all my dancer friends either moved away, were pregnant, or were otherwise unable to do the costume, so I had to think of a new idea.

So I decided to go half-and-half with my left side white and my right side black. I know nothing about dance costumes, and had never dyed fabric before, but I wanted to give it a shot.

I first went on eBay and bought a white corset ensemble that I ended up seeing on every other Black Swan on Halloween. For about $20 and free shipping from China, I got myself some sort of ruffly travesty that had a tutu skirt much, MUCH more transparent than this image would have you believe. I ended up supplementing it with a second skirt from China, which cost about $6.

First, I ripped off all the bows and ruffles, which left me with a plain corset shape. I then bought polyester fabric dye that you paint right onto the piece to be dyed, as well as tons of silver and black rhinestones and a glue gun. A trip to Michael’s left me with five bags each of black and white feathers, which would need to be glued individually. I also bought two hackle pads (one black, one white) in the Garment District, some hair clips, pink tights, real ballet slippers from Capezio, and black and white face paint. All together, these supplies cost me about $60 or so.

It was finally time to set to work! I didn’t take any pictures of the process, but I’ll describe it as best I can. I fit the corset to myself, then tried to dye only half of the white base black while laying it flat. This failed miserably, and fabric dye bled substantially into the white half. I grabbed a bleach pen to try and salvage the corset, but to no avail. I later just ended up covering it up with feathers to hide my mistake.

I performed the same half-assed dye job on both sets of tutus. The idea was to wear the much thinner and poofier skirt that came with the corset underneath the somewhat more modest 5-layer second skirt. This would give it some volume, and make it look a little more like an actual ballet tutu (if you were blind). The dripping garments stained everything they touched, so the multi-day drying fiasco coated a good portion of my apartment with black splotches of paint.

Once they were finally dry, it was time to glue on the feathers and rhinestones. I hadn’t used a glue gun in many years, and I had forgotten how the little strands of glue get EVERYWHERE. I found little strands and rhinestones for MONTHS afterwards in my hair, my clothing, my bed, the bathroom, etc. I burned myself a good half a dozen times, but eventually managed to affix all the crap to the corset. I then took the hackle pads, glued on some rhinestones and hair clips, and called them hair pieces. I wore this costume three times, and by the end, hardly any feathers or sparkles were still attached. I shed pieces of the costume everywhere I went.

Finally, the day of, I did my nails and makeup. Each side had a different color scheme, with white being prominent on my left, and black on the right. My roommate helpfully sewed pink ribbons to the top of my slippers, making them look a little like toe shoes. One half of my face was done in the Black Swan style, the other in White Swan. My hands and arms were similarly coated in body paint, and I was ready to go!

I was freezing, and my ballet slippers got filthy in the New York streets, but I was still proud of my (semi) homemade costume. Several pairs of black and white swans grabbed me throughout the evening at the Village parade, wanting me to pose in between them. In the third photo below, you can even see the Black Swan side of my costume in the mirror to the right.

The Time I Pissed Myself During Easter

January 30, 2012 Leave a comment

Religion in my family growing up was always a confusing thing, though I didn’t fully realize it at the time. For many years during my youth, we blended Christian and Jewish holidays together, sometimes celebrating both concurrently, or else simply picking and choosing as we went along.

One thing we always did was an annual Easter Egg hunt. To begin the day, my mom would craft elaborate Easter baskets for my sister and I, and perhaps one for my brother as well, though he was probably too old at that point. The baskets were filled with that shiny Easter grass, then stuffed to the brim with jellybeans, chocolate eggs filled with everything imaginable, and even delicate sugar eggs that contained holiday scenes of piped sugar inside. I was often reluctant to eat the sugar eggs, and instead would keep mine for weeks before my sweet tooth finally got the better of me.

After that, colorful plastic eggs filled with candy would be hidden wherever we happened to be at the time. Sometimes at home, sometimes at a relative’s house, or even while on vacation. This particular year, I believe we were in Florida for Spring Break.

I was young, perhaps four or five, and I remember clearly having a lot of difficulty that morning putting on my blue velcro-tabbed shoes. Someone had picked out my outfit for the day, which was an amazingly loud Hawaiian shirt + shorts combination. With my long scraggly red hair, I was looking sharp.

When us children were finally launched to begin the hunt, I was beyond excited. For the first time, I felt like I could actually compete against my older sister and other cousins, and I sped along recklessly, tripping and falling in the grass until my knees turned green.

I was determined to win this year by collecting the most eggs, and I headed straight for the bushes, figuring them to be a bounty of eggs. I found a few, but the rustling all around me indicated that my pint-sized relatives had the same strategy. Soon the bushes were picked clean, and I ran off to scour the perimeter of the house. But the place looked like a battlefield, with plants and branches scattered everywhere and no signs of eggs.

I finally spotted an egg, perhaps one of the last ones by this point, and began to run towards it when I saw a blur pass to my right. Another girl was breezing past me, a look of determination on her face. She thought she could snatch victory (or at least second-to-last place) away from me, but I would not let it happen. I put on an extra burst of speed, and suddenly felt an alarming warmness begin to trickle down my legs.

Though I had been potty-trained for some time, my eagerness had apparently affected me like an over-excited puppy. Just when I was about to grab the egg, I had pissed myself. I stopped dead in my tracks, shame radiating from my body, and watched as the girl scooped up my egg. She turned back to look at me, triumphant, but her gloating words died on her lips. She saw the stain spreading across my colorful shorts, and began to holler the words I feared. “She’s peed herself! MOOOOM!”

I sat down in a sad, wet little heap and began to cry, my basket of eggs forgotten. No candy could console me at this point. My mom eventually came by to collect me, whispering soothing words in my ear. A change of clothes was procured, and I was soon as good as new, but I just couldn’t enjoy the hunt after that.

To this day, seeing happy children scramble for their eggs on Easter just makes me think of urine. A sad thing indeed.

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