Freshly showered, Arthur Brown's Kingdom Come on the record player, a cup of cold coffee at hand. Ready to try and note down last night before it all slips away.. another (too)crazy night in the fabulous life of a wolfkitten. Whose transformation to London party girl is a constant source of amusement to us all.
Mostly because this isn't London and girlhood is a long way behind me. But i intend to be Maude from Harold and when i grow old (sometime after the Mandy Slade phase passes), a doddering, wrinkled old lady with fire-engine red lipstick and false eyelashes - tho in my case, the lipstick will probably be lilac frost and the eyelashes tipped in silver glitter, one of them always, always askew. When i am old, i shall wear purple? Darlings, i've worn purple all along. When i am old - and i'm edging right up on being that *any day now* - i shall wear a top hat, and a fur coat, and dress like a Puerto Rican transvestite hooker. Coz that's just how i roll, bizzotch.
So yes. The last Friday of February. The day was worse than uneventful, but i managed to regain consciousness by late afternoon. i had a vague notion to stop at the Tremont library and pick out another DVD or two before the evening proper got underway, but shilly-shallied around until there was a scant 15 minutes left before the library closed and i was still getting dressed. Oops! In my defense, my steam-heated apartment is usually *very* warm and it can be difficult to wrap my head around the fact that i'll soon be standing outside smoking in below-freezing temperatures so yes, i really DO need that extra pair of socks.
Part of the plans for the night were to attend a Sordid Lives party, to which i had originally threatened to wear my waitress costume one more time. As Twitter followers already know, that didn't happen.. well, it really would have looked ODD the rest of the night. Instead, i chose a tasteful, low-key ensemble consisting of vintage black velvet mini-dress with studded collar and cuffs, wide black belt w/silvertone buckle around my hips, antelope-print velour bell-bottoms tucked in to black Ed Hardy 'tattoo' boots, topped with my shortie black rabbit fur jacket, top hat decked w/green Mardi Gras beads (the purple ones keep falling off) and my usual leopard-print fur gloves from Tarzhet. Yes, i am rather painfully aware that this blog is in desperate need of photos, but i haven't a digicam to my name. Wufkitties is technologicamally impairded.
Soo, once bedecked for the night ahead, i made a quick foray over to my local branch library, as i had a stack of cool Movie Night DVDs due back. Naturally i pulled in just as they were locking the door; hopefully i won't get fined the extra day :-( From there it was back home to an even-quicker bit of nosh - i <3 food that can be prepped with boiling water. TVP how i adore thee. Mmm, i think i need to make another pot of mock chicken noodle soup RIGHT NOW, hang on brb! Heh. Some day i will get around to posting my cookbook on Etsy ans then you can enjoy Mock Chicken Noodle in the privacy of your very own home.
Having re-fueled, i jumped into Severin Bloo, cranked up WCSB and headed to Tremont. Met up with some of the usual crew at Edison's.. i haven't decided yet how i should refer to those who make repeat appearances in my life in this here blog. First names only? Clever aliases? In-joke nicknames? Or maybe i should assign them all numbers, or single initials. i don't know. This is the interactive section of our blog, where you, gentle reader, can click right on down to that little 'comment' link at the bottom and have your say. O Web 2.0, how connected you have made all our lives!
Anyway, i barely had time for one quick cocktail at Eds - a black russian, in honor of it being National Kahlua Day. Mmm, have not had one of those in ~years~. i used to drink them all the time in a previous party girl incarnation, the one where i spent a lot of time inhaling butyl nitrate and dancing to Donna Summer in large, dimly-lit clubs filled with slim and sometimes mustachioed young men who really weren't too interested if i took my shirt off. Those were different times, as Uncle Lou says. But in a blink it was already 7:55, and the curtain for the Theater Ninjas production of "Crave" went up at 8:00. Good thing they are performing at Asterisk Gallery, a mere few doors down from Ed's - !
"Crave" isn't exactly a play, except that its performed by actors, who move about a stage area and recite lines in front of an audience. Some of those lines can be heard in the trailer (i don't know what you see, since the gumdrop refuses to show me). Asterisk has a central staircase in the floor as you enter from the lobby - the building was originally a nickelodeon, i believe - so that the audience was seated to either side of that. The actors would come together in the center, then break apart, sometimes flying into far corners of the gallery. The seating arragement meant that each half of the audience could see into one of the 'backstage wings', while action in the other one was effectively 'offstage'. Apparently, there are no stage directions at all in the play itself, so the choreographed action was all developed specifically for this production, in this space, by this troupe. Not a piece for the 'Tony & Tina's Wedding' crowd, but one i really enjoyed.
One of the actresses, in the role of 'M.', is someone i know and work with at the Liminis. Afterwards, the cast came out to mingle in the lobby, so we had a glass of wine and got to meet everyone. M. (as i shall call her for now) introduced me to the director and assistant director of the Theater Ninjas, and put in a word for me as possible costumer for their next production, "Heddatron". Robotic Ibsen? Oh *hells* yes. i'd already been eyeing audition notices on this one, trying to figure out if/how i might qualify somehow. But as costumer? Teh squee, i be has-ing it naow.
Of course, this one opens two weeks after "The Mineola Twins", which i'm stage-managing at the Liminis, and two weeks *before* the Fairie Festival, which is really the only craft show/event i do any more, and for which i should already be building up stock coz i'll sell almost everything i bring. Fortunately, the big secret "Center for Rock Research" project had to be pushed back to June, or i would ALSO be running lights on a brand-new DMX lighting system i know virtually jack and squat about right on opening night. As it is, it would be heaping my plate up pretty full, but hello? Theater work? If they offer it, you KNOW i'm going to say yes. And then proceed to drive myself backwards getting everything done in the next two months. See above reference to purple.
So. Yes. Since "Crave" is just less than an hour long, we were done and out of there while it was still relatively early - so back to Edison's for a moment to re-group. There, i was reminded that Kid Tested, fronted by a friend of mine, was playing at the Matinee; but i didn't think i wanted to try and squeeze one more thing into an already whirly night. So instead i headed directly to Duck Island, tho my one pal did hit the Matinee first. i hear Megachurch were really good and from his description i'm sorry i missed them. Can't recall if they're a Lottery League band but i'm kind of thinking so (ok i'm wrong). Btw, for anybody who might be wondering, ~why~ would such a fabulous creature as myself live in Cleveland of all places?!, just click that Lottery League link.
Ah darlings, its nearly time i was out the door, so the best(?!)(wildest) part of the evening shall just have to await my return. i don't think i'd better try driving to the Beachland in me undies, tho, so its time to pick out tonight's outfit and hustle my tuchus. Back soonest. Mwaaah.
28 February 2009
26 February 2009
like a crazy singer in a band that’s lost the words
Last night, I dreamt of Glocca Morra... again.
No, that's not right. Not right at all. Start over.
Last night, i dreamed i was a gossip columnist, in my Maidenform bra.
i wasn't really wearing a Maidenform bra. At least i don't think so. i don't make a habit of checking my undergarments in Dream. Even the quasi-lucid ones. And it wasn't last night, but the night before last; its just taken me this long to get it noted down.
Erm. Yes. i *did* Dream that, tho, really. And it seemed to make some sense out of Why This Blog. Maybe even why blogs in general. What are blogs but the stories we tell each other? Which might raise the question what are stories.. what's "true" vs. fictional. What is Reality(tm). Besides Silly-Putty, of course. Reality is what we say it is, what we all agree it is.
Which shall take me on a tangent, the principle of Bart Simpson's Cat. Naturally, i can't seem to find a still of Snowball II from Treehouse of Horror II to illustrate this properly, but its the episode where Springfield is held in a grip of terror by Bart, who has near-omnipotent powers. (or do i mean AN episode where - ?) In parody of an old Twilight Zone, anything Bart wishes or demands comes true, and Snowball II is transformed into a stilt-legged, ring-tailed fire-breathing monster clown cat. As cool as THAT sounds, its still not cooler than the big gay zombie dance number in 5000 Fingers of Dr. T, but never mind all that.
The Snowball II Principle, if you will, states that Bart could never really transform Snowball in such a way, because the rest of the world doesn't believe it possible. Unlike the premise of Treehouse II, Bart has no more influence over reality than anyone else. You may decide to spam my inbox shouting THE SKY IS PURPLE!!! over and over for days on end, but it won't change the color i see when i step outside and look up.
Unless, of course, the exactly right number of people all *agree* that the sky is purple. That would probably be a pretty damn large exactly right number, since "everybody knows" the sky is blue. There's another principle that goes hand-in-hand with Snowball II, which is the Deity Bank Account .. in this, the more people who Believe in a certain anything, the larger that certain anything's account is. We literally deposit our belief into it. Very large accounts, like Jesus or Elvis, have a lot of capital at their disposal; so that people can withdraw a large chunk, for expensive purposes - Jesus found me a parking space! Elvis cured my cancer!! - without disrupting the principle. Smaller accounts, like oh, the Flying Spaghetti Monster, can't 'afford' even minor miracles. Snowball II will forever remain a (Springfield)normal cat, because Bart's belief in the ringtailed fire-breather isn't enough to buy out everyone *else*'s belief in a normal widdle puddy tat.
i wonder what any of this has to do with a gossip column?
Maybe it's metaphysical gossip. Kind of like that What's Up on Planet Earth lady, if she were Nini-Pattes-en-l'air, an absinthe-fueled burlesque dancer. Writing a review of the Salon des Rose-Croix as presented at Doubting Thomas Gallery during ArtWalk, edited by Nico to a soundtrack of Jane's Addiction, the Tiger Lillies and the Virgin Prunes, for eventual inclusion in a limited edition fanzine put out by David Tibet and J.K. Huysmans.
Man. i would so totally read that. Especially if i found it stuck under my windshield wiper in the rain.
No, that's not right. Not right at all. Start over.
Last night, i dreamed i was a gossip columnist, in my Maidenform bra.
i wasn't really wearing a Maidenform bra. At least i don't think so. i don't make a habit of checking my undergarments in Dream. Even the quasi-lucid ones. And it wasn't last night, but the night before last; its just taken me this long to get it noted down.
Erm. Yes. i *did* Dream that, tho, really. And it seemed to make some sense out of Why This Blog. Maybe even why blogs in general. What are blogs but the stories we tell each other? Which might raise the question what are stories.. what's "true" vs. fictional. What is Reality(tm). Besides Silly-Putty, of course. Reality is what we say it is, what we all agree it is.
Which shall take me on a tangent, the principle of Bart Simpson's Cat. Naturally, i can't seem to find a still of Snowball II from Treehouse of Horror II to illustrate this properly, but its the episode where Springfield is held in a grip of terror by Bart, who has near-omnipotent powers. (or do i mean AN episode where - ?) In parody of an old Twilight Zone, anything Bart wishes or demands comes true, and Snowball II is transformed into a stilt-legged, ring-tailed fire-breathing monster clown cat. As cool as THAT sounds, its still not cooler than the big gay zombie dance number in 5000 Fingers of Dr. T, but never mind all that.
The Snowball II Principle, if you will, states that Bart could never really transform Snowball in such a way, because the rest of the world doesn't believe it possible. Unlike the premise of Treehouse II, Bart has no more influence over reality than anyone else. You may decide to spam my inbox shouting THE SKY IS PURPLE!!! over and over for days on end, but it won't change the color i see when i step outside and look up.
Unless, of course, the exactly right number of people all *agree* that the sky is purple. That would probably be a pretty damn large exactly right number, since "everybody knows" the sky is blue. There's another principle that goes hand-in-hand with Snowball II, which is the Deity Bank Account .. in this, the more people who Believe in a certain anything, the larger that certain anything's account is. We literally deposit our belief into it. Very large accounts, like Jesus or Elvis, have a lot of capital at their disposal; so that people can withdraw a large chunk, for expensive purposes - Jesus found me a parking space! Elvis cured my cancer!! - without disrupting the principle. Smaller accounts, like oh, the Flying Spaghetti Monster, can't 'afford' even minor miracles. Snowball II will forever remain a (Springfield)normal cat, because Bart's belief in the ringtailed fire-breather isn't enough to buy out everyone *else*'s belief in a normal widdle puddy tat.
i wonder what any of this has to do with a gossip column?
Maybe it's metaphysical gossip. Kind of like that What's Up on Planet Earth lady, if she were Nini-Pattes-en-l'air, an absinthe-fueled burlesque dancer. Writing a review of the Salon des Rose-Croix as presented at Doubting Thomas Gallery during ArtWalk, edited by Nico to a soundtrack of Jane's Addiction, the Tiger Lillies and the Virgin Prunes, for eventual inclusion in a limited edition fanzine put out by David Tibet and J.K. Huysmans.
Man. i would so totally read that. Especially if i found it stuck under my windshield wiper in the rain.
25 February 2009
Srs subjects under a dark fishie moon
i don't think this will be a Happy Fun post. Sorry about that. i'm sure i'll be back to shiny perky bouncy wufkitndom soon enuf, so if Srs Subjects aren't your cuppa, pls do check back in a few days.
Its funny how things come up, come around, come about. i'm a long-time LiveJournal post-er, and recently got involved in a community thread about the merits of living in Cleveland. i'm very much on the pro- side of our fair yet troubled city - you can read the (now-locked) thread here, if you so desire.
In discussing pros and cons of living in the city, i happened to bring up the West Side Rapist. i've not told too many people this story, for various reasons. Perhaps mostly because there's ways i never felt it was 'that important'. i''m not quite sure why i'm telling it now; perhaps simply to have it said and done with.
In early 1983, i lived on Baltic Ave right at the Clifton/Baltic split. i had only recently left Cleveland Hts and the Coventry neighborhood. i was walking up to the Convenient on Clifton one evening, and noticed this guy apparently jogging. i'm pretty Aware of my surroundings, and in fact had been accosted on the street before, back in Cleveland Hts. So i kept him on my radar, so to speak. After i'd made my purchases and was ready to head home, i noticed him 'jogging' back behind me. Gee, workout suddenly took you in the opposite direction, fella?
i had gotten to within a couple doors from my house when he suddenly came up behind me, grabbed me w/one hand & dropped trou, began masturbating to try & get hard with the other. i knew he had been following me, so he did not have the element of surprise on his side. In reading about his case afterwards, this became one of his hallmarks: he would break in to women's homes, often knowing their roommates or children were sleeping a few doors away. He wasn't able to surprise me, but i was a little more fortunate.
He did not expect me to punch him.
Which threw him off just enuf to give me a break to run like hell and make it home. As i had only recently moved to the area (from Coventry) i didn't realize that i didn't live in Lakewood - i know, duh - so i called Lakewood police first. By the time i sorted out who i actually needed to talk to, i figured he was probably long gone and didn't bother calling Clevo police - after all, nothing ever actually "happened". :\
Fast forward a couple years when he finally got busted. i'm watching the evening news and they have his mugshot plastered all over the place. i take one look and say Holy shit, that's the dude that tried to rape me on Clifton a few years ago =:o In retrospect, i really, really regret not following thru and making a report at the time. i don't know that it would have *stopped* him; he seems to have had enuf of a chip on his shoulder that he was gonna do what he was gonna do. But it certainly makes one wonder.
i'm thinking i'd like to say more in this post about being a woman, safety, being objectified etc. As i mentioned, this was not the first time someone had attempted to grab me on the street, nor, sadly, would it be the last. i've not had any encounters for years (touch wood) but the last time, some late-teens gangbanger tried to grab me over in Collinwood, where i lived at the time. Once again, my temper actually came to my rescue - in that instance, i simply got all Huffy and unleashed a string of ghetto slang on him that again, threw him off long enough for me to make a get-away.
i'm certainly glad that i've been fortunate in each of these instances. i'm glad that i long ago learned that projecting an Attitude can often be an effective defense in and of itself. But it grieves me that even now, in the 21st century, this should continue to be an issue. i'm hesitant to ride my bike down to Tremont if i don't expect to be home until late, because i feel vulnerable out on the street at night on a bike. i'm not ~particularly~ scared; more that i am aware that i AM a single woman, certainly not as young as i used to be, and that i should perhaps not take the chances i would have when i was in my twenties.
This isn't very pithy or insightful or anything. Its awfully late and i really should be asleep. The subject came up, however, and it seemed maybe this is the time to get this story told and out of me. Last night i stayed up far too late with a friend and told some other stories, some that i've never spoken out loud to anyone before. Most of those stories - like why there's a razor-sharp, unscabbarded short sword by my door - are not ones i'm going to tell here or anywhere else. i'm just thinking that under this moon, it might be time for some things to be said.
Its funny how things come up, come around, come about. i'm a long-time LiveJournal post-er, and recently got involved in a community thread about the merits of living in Cleveland. i'm very much on the pro- side of our fair yet troubled city - you can read the (now-locked) thread here, if you so desire.
In discussing pros and cons of living in the city, i happened to bring up the West Side Rapist. i've not told too many people this story, for various reasons. Perhaps mostly because there's ways i never felt it was 'that important'. i''m not quite sure why i'm telling it now; perhaps simply to have it said and done with.
In early 1983, i lived on Baltic Ave right at the Clifton/Baltic split. i had only recently left Cleveland Hts and the Coventry neighborhood. i was walking up to the Convenient on Clifton one evening, and noticed this guy apparently jogging. i'm pretty Aware of my surroundings, and in fact had been accosted on the street before, back in Cleveland Hts. So i kept him on my radar, so to speak. After i'd made my purchases and was ready to head home, i noticed him 'jogging' back behind me. Gee, workout suddenly took you in the opposite direction, fella?
i had gotten to within a couple doors from my house when he suddenly came up behind me, grabbed me w/one hand & dropped trou, began masturbating to try & get hard with the other. i knew he had been following me, so he did not have the element of surprise on his side. In reading about his case afterwards, this became one of his hallmarks: he would break in to women's homes, often knowing their roommates or children were sleeping a few doors away. He wasn't able to surprise me, but i was a little more fortunate.
He did not expect me to punch him.
Which threw him off just enuf to give me a break to run like hell and make it home. As i had only recently moved to the area (from Coventry) i didn't realize that i didn't live in Lakewood - i know, duh - so i called Lakewood police first. By the time i sorted out who i actually needed to talk to, i figured he was probably long gone and didn't bother calling Clevo police - after all, nothing ever actually "happened". :\
Fast forward a couple years when he finally got busted. i'm watching the evening news and they have his mugshot plastered all over the place. i take one look and say Holy shit, that's the dude that tried to rape me on Clifton a few years ago =:o In retrospect, i really, really regret not following thru and making a report at the time. i don't know that it would have *stopped* him; he seems to have had enuf of a chip on his shoulder that he was gonna do what he was gonna do. But it certainly makes one wonder.
i'm thinking i'd like to say more in this post about being a woman, safety, being objectified etc. As i mentioned, this was not the first time someone had attempted to grab me on the street, nor, sadly, would it be the last. i've not had any encounters for years (touch wood) but the last time, some late-teens gangbanger tried to grab me over in Collinwood, where i lived at the time. Once again, my temper actually came to my rescue - in that instance, i simply got all Huffy and unleashed a string of ghetto slang on him that again, threw him off long enough for me to make a get-away.
i'm certainly glad that i've been fortunate in each of these instances. i'm glad that i long ago learned that projecting an Attitude can often be an effective defense in and of itself. But it grieves me that even now, in the 21st century, this should continue to be an issue. i'm hesitant to ride my bike down to Tremont if i don't expect to be home until late, because i feel vulnerable out on the street at night on a bike. i'm not ~particularly~ scared; more that i am aware that i AM a single woman, certainly not as young as i used to be, and that i should perhaps not take the chances i would have when i was in my twenties.
This isn't very pithy or insightful or anything. Its awfully late and i really should be asleep. The subject came up, however, and it seemed maybe this is the time to get this story told and out of me. Last night i stayed up far too late with a friend and told some other stories, some that i've never spoken out loud to anyone before. Most of those stories - like why there's a razor-sharp, unscabbarded short sword by my door - are not ones i'm going to tell here or anywhere else. i'm just thinking that under this moon, it might be time for some things to be said.
22 February 2009
shadowland
Well, that was certainly odd in an okay way. Or do i mean okay in an odd way? (yes). Got together with a few friends for movie night last night, something i haven't done in forever. Back in the mysts of time, Friday night used to be movie night at Dark Lodge central (if there wasn't a show. i guess there were nights when there wasn't - ?). i'd usually make pizza. Sometimes we'd tell people to bring their VCRs - told you it was the mysts of time - and we'd daisy-chain 'em, run off copies of what we were showing. This reminded me of those days.
Dee made chili, i made corn muffins (moooffins!) and a Mexican corn salad. There was also guacamole, chips, dips, and tabouleh. Tabouleh on corn chips is like a middle-eastern taco, lol. Frank was messing around downstairs for a bit but once he came up we put on "5,000 Fingers of Dr. T." Which i haven't seen in ~forever~! and had forgotten just how unintentionally camp it is. At least i think it's unintentional. Some of it you have to wonder. And Dr. T is played by the guy who was the voice of Snidely Whiplash, so that totally freaking rocks right there.
We watched "Blood Tea and Red String" after that, which is equally as awesome but in a totally different way. i wouldn't've paired it with that but with the Brothers Quay stuff; "Lost Skeleton of Cadavara" should have been Feature #2 but that was the company decision. Actually Christine Cegavske's stuff is *amazing* - check out her short film "The Dollmaker" here. Then imagine that translated to all stop-motion animation with white mice in waistcoats and red velvet breeches, versus hobbit-like fox-bird creatures; with the two competing for possession of a crucified ragdoll goddess with a kabuki mask face. Oh yes it is that cool.
Everyone pretty much needed to move around or risk dozing off when it was done, tho, as its a very meditative movie. So we gathered our selves together and went down to the Center for Rock Research secret laboratories to check out the new lightshow rig. Well. Oh. My. June 13th locals and near locals.. i'm telling you, clear your calendars now and plan on coming in for this show when it happens. The set alone is cool as freaking magic beans and the light show on top of it? Oh my my, oh hell yes. i think we spent another hour or two down there, taking turns playing with the programming and checking out the effects. Imagine you've got a set for the bridge from the first Star Trek episodes with a post-Pink Floyd-ian light show running on it, and bands playing live against that? i must throw the horns for veritably it shall be su-wee-eet.
Wandering around in the fog and the dimness makes wufkitty's brains go spinny-spinny-spin. Made a little sense out of one concept that's been tugging at me; i still need to do some work in that area but i might at least have figured out an approach. Tried to follow it a little once i got home but Stuph got in the way, as stuph will. i half wanted to put on Party Monster again, because they are so fabulously over the top. Like the bastard love child of Velvet Goldmine and Vegas in Space. Come to my party? Then my head got all a-flutter with how & when we can throw a particular theme party. i say that as if there's a we, and as if i have time and resources to make something like that happen. But ideas, people! i have ideas! That's probably not a wise plan but would be hella fun if i can pull it off. We shall see, we shall see. Interested parties are advised to check this space regularly for further updates. Yiss. Maybe i can get a camp for Recycled Rainbow with that theme, that would be appropriately damaged.
Well then. i suspect my house-elf has been slacking and the dishes are not magically done overnight after all. Not to mention i am in ~desperate~ need of coffee, a shower, and perhaps clothing. Tweet ya later, even if this is more like a Honk.
Dee made chili, i made corn muffins (moooffins!) and a Mexican corn salad. There was also guacamole, chips, dips, and tabouleh. Tabouleh on corn chips is like a middle-eastern taco, lol. Frank was messing around downstairs for a bit but once he came up we put on "5,000 Fingers of Dr. T." Which i haven't seen in ~forever~! and had forgotten just how unintentionally camp it is. At least i think it's unintentional. Some of it you have to wonder. And Dr. T is played by the guy who was the voice of Snidely Whiplash, so that totally freaking rocks right there.
We watched "Blood Tea and Red String" after that, which is equally as awesome but in a totally different way. i wouldn't've paired it with that but with the Brothers Quay stuff; "Lost Skeleton of Cadavara" should have been Feature #2 but that was the company decision. Actually Christine Cegavske's stuff is *amazing* - check out her short film "The Dollmaker" here. Then imagine that translated to all stop-motion animation with white mice in waistcoats and red velvet breeches, versus hobbit-like fox-bird creatures; with the two competing for possession of a crucified ragdoll goddess with a kabuki mask face. Oh yes it is that cool.
Everyone pretty much needed to move around or risk dozing off when it was done, tho, as its a very meditative movie. So we gathered our selves together and went down to the Center for Rock Research secret laboratories to check out the new lightshow rig. Well. Oh. My. June 13th locals and near locals.. i'm telling you, clear your calendars now and plan on coming in for this show when it happens. The set alone is cool as freaking magic beans and the light show on top of it? Oh my my, oh hell yes. i think we spent another hour or two down there, taking turns playing with the programming and checking out the effects. Imagine you've got a set for the bridge from the first Star Trek episodes with a post-Pink Floyd-ian light show running on it, and bands playing live against that? i must throw the horns for veritably it shall be su-wee-eet.
Wandering around in the fog and the dimness makes wufkitty's brains go spinny-spinny-spin. Made a little sense out of one concept that's been tugging at me; i still need to do some work in that area but i might at least have figured out an approach. Tried to follow it a little once i got home but Stuph got in the way, as stuph will. i half wanted to put on Party Monster again, because they are so fabulously over the top. Like the bastard love child of Velvet Goldmine and Vegas in Space. Come to my party? Then my head got all a-flutter with how & when we can throw a particular theme party. i say that as if there's a we, and as if i have time and resources to make something like that happen. But ideas, people! i have ideas! That's probably not a wise plan but would be hella fun if i can pull it off. We shall see, we shall see. Interested parties are advised to check this space regularly for further updates. Yiss. Maybe i can get a camp for Recycled Rainbow with that theme, that would be appropriately damaged.
Well then. i suspect my house-elf has been slacking and the dishes are not magically done overnight after all. Not to mention i am in ~desperate~ need of coffee, a shower, and perhaps clothing. Tweet ya later, even if this is more like a Honk.
19 February 2009
ghetto-fabulous is to english as..
Taking a further step into the brave new world of social media. i've been blogging semi-privately for quite some time, but am looking at re-learning my blog habits with an eye to making the time i spend at the computer *gasp* productive. If you've followed the wufkitn that is i around for any length of time, fear not; i'm sure to still lapse into ridiculousness on a regular basis. i just hope to do it for a reason.
As i am new ~here~, perhaps a bit of bio is in order? i'm a Rainbow punk hippie goth gypsie and, like, a Pisces Virgo-rising, Gemini/Cancer moon on the midheaven, ikay? And i pronounce my name "sadie" - i took the spelling after the cartoonist Vaughn Bode in the late 70s, long before anyone heard of that singer. i've been a college DJ on both WCSB(1982-1997) and WRUW (2006-2008), a blacklight performance artist (The Subliminals, 1987-1990), a sideshow performer & professional Tarot reader (Carnival Xaotika, 1996-2003), a bellydancer (YaShara's Rising Stars, 2000-2003), and a gothic-folk musician (Dragonfly Reel, 1998-2003).
Currently, i am an artist, an artist's model, a crafter, a publicist, and a theater person. i stage manage/run tech for the Liminis, a small independent theater company and promote/co-manage Morticia's Chair, pirate rockers, yarrrgghh! i'm a social gadfly and a cultural midwife. i'm friendly with all sorts of people, listen to all sorts of music, hope no one's watching when i dance, hang out in places my ex-sister-in-law considers "bad neighborhoods". i have a lot of fun, i make stuff happen, and i often leave a trail of glitter behind me.
i'm planning to use this blog to drop names and pimp my friend's projects. Fo' real, tho. Know of something Interesting going on in Clevo? Gallery openings, small theater, indie/goth/industrial/psychedelic rock, poetry readings, all-night coffeehouses, vegan potlucks? Word to ya mother. OK that only applies to my grrlinas, the rest of you can address me as MISS Sascha Peppercorn *snick*. Um. So much for maintaining a professional tone. Stick around, i might do better. This one's just to get the party started - a post with Bonus! actual content might even go up today. Ph33r mah l33t engulous sk1llz n00b.
Alright sade. Put down the keyboard and back slowly away from the computer..
As i am new ~here~, perhaps a bit of bio is in order? i'm a Rainbow punk hippie goth gypsie and, like, a Pisces Virgo-rising, Gemini/Cancer moon on the midheaven, ikay? And i pronounce my name "sadie" - i took the spelling after the cartoonist Vaughn Bode in the late 70s, long before anyone heard of that singer. i've been a college DJ on both WCSB(1982-1997) and WRUW (2006-2008), a blacklight performance artist (The Subliminals, 1987-1990), a sideshow performer & professional Tarot reader (Carnival Xaotika, 1996-2003), a bellydancer (YaShara's Rising Stars, 2000-2003), and a gothic-folk musician (Dragonfly Reel, 1998-2003).
Currently, i am an artist, an artist's model, a crafter, a publicist, and a theater person. i stage manage/run tech for the Liminis, a small independent theater company and promote/co-manage Morticia's Chair, pirate rockers, yarrrgghh! i'm a social gadfly and a cultural midwife. i'm friendly with all sorts of people, listen to all sorts of music, hope no one's watching when i dance, hang out in places my ex-sister-in-law considers "bad neighborhoods". i have a lot of fun, i make stuff happen, and i often leave a trail of glitter behind me.
i'm planning to use this blog to drop names and pimp my friend's projects. Fo' real, tho. Know of something Interesting going on in Clevo? Gallery openings, small theater, indie/goth/industrial/psychedelic rock, poetry readings, all-night coffeehouses, vegan potlucks? Word to ya mother. OK that only applies to my grrlinas, the rest of you can address me as MISS Sascha Peppercorn *snick*. Um. So much for maintaining a professional tone. Stick around, i might do better. This one's just to get the party started - a post with Bonus! actual content might even go up today. Ph33r mah l33t engulous sk1llz n00b.
Alright sade. Put down the keyboard and back slowly away from the computer..
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