If you catch her, throw her back

(I'm excited to be the first person ever to wear this [LeLutka] Rykiel hair in a blog post.)

I have a young cousin in RL — her name is Katie — who hit the jackpot with all the good Irish genes in our family. She looks just like this picture: Like a wild and slightly dangerous mermaid who rose from a stormy sea and reluctantly threw on human clothing so she could hit a few beach bars to do tequila shots with sailors.

Katie has this exact same hair — like it wants to be curly but just sort of gave up and exploded into this come-hither mop instead. You can run your fingers through it but you may never see them again. She also has those same ice blue eyes and kiss-me lips too. And her body — women often ask her where she gets her "work done." The answer is nowhere. God did a really awesome job with her sliders.

I hate her.

Just kidding.

Sort of.

But yeah, when I got done dolling up my AV today, I looked at her and thought, "Oh hell, I just made Katie."

Katie grew up in Iowa but took off as soon as she got a driver's license. She hung out with me in Arizona for a while, but I got tired of bailing her out of jail (party crimes: public intoxication and "tipsy driving,"as she put it) and she got tired of the scorching heat, so she took off for California in her old beater Volvo.

It sounds like a stupid made-for-TV movie on Lifetime, huh?

She never really got a steady job and she lives this freewheelin' California lifestyle — just kind of wandering around, enchanting men everywhere, getting one beachy, no-stress job after another and extolling the virtues of freshly squeezed juice and yoga to anyone who'll listen. Ten years later and somehow she's living in Malibu like she owns it. Now at age 30, she still looks like an etherial mermaid with a permanent Cosmo buzz. She lives in the moment. Her head is thrown back in laughter in almost every picture I have of her. She never knows where her next dollar is coming from and frankly she doesn't really care. . . .  and HELL YES, I'm jealous of her looks and her life and her "everything'll turn out peachy" attitude. I can't even live like that for five minutes without worrying about a bill or a wrinkle or an interest rate or a client.

Maybe when you joyously cruise through life without fretting about the future, assuming without question that the Universe will take care of you, it does just that.

Or maybe stunningly beautiful women who look like party-girl mermaids pretty much get whatever they want and never have to worry about a damn thing. Cynically, I'm leaning toward this explanation.

Wow. It's amazing how one AV can trigger an ocean (pardon the pun) of repressed family angst, huh?


Whatever. I guess if the world didn't have worriers, no one would be around to get the non-worriers out of jail. You owe me about $700 in bail money, Katie.

(Hey, I finally figured out how to get my MacBook Pro to un-grey the shadows options in Rendering. Please don't ask me how because I just pushed buttons and slid things around and changed numbers until it finally worked. Now I just have to work on not blowing out the sky with too much sunlight.)

Katie would never be caught dead in a dress like this Alchemy dress by Bottle Bird. Her style is more "I just grabbed this thing out of a pile of clothes on my floor and threw it on and if it were up to me none of us would be wearing clothes anyway."

I'm digging it though. If you haven't checked out Bottle Bird, you should. I love the trippy vintage vibe and the attention to detail in the clothes there. Check the back:


This dress isn't available anymore, actually. God, I hate it when bloggers do that! All the work at that store is quality, though. Maybe later I'll come back and edit in the designer's actual name — sorry about that. (Update: designer Filthy Adored. Is Filthy a boy's name or a girl's name?)

Anyway. As you can tell, I'm stretching for material here. Bored. And broke. There are a million expos and fairs and what-have-yous this weekend and I can't go to any of them. Lindenless. And bored. I'm so bored that I took my last few lindens and rented a huge parcel of land with a 988 prim allowance for a couple of weeks, took out EVERY SINGLE BOX of not-that-exciting kittens in my inventory and birthed all of them.


Awwwwwwww, yeah! Welcome to Emerald's Ghetto Funland, kids!

There are 64. I didn't give them names - I just numbered all of them. They ran out of food in the middle of the night and I got 64 emails in the morning:

"The object 'KittyCats - 51' has sent you a message from Second Life:
Mewwwwww... I'm 30% hungry :( Please feed me and pay some attention to me... :/"

Sheeeeeesh.

They each get to procreate one time and then they get sent to kitten heaven.

I'm done running my mouth.

VISIT IN WORLD
Bottle Bird
Emerald's Ghetto Funland (visitors welcome!)
[LeLutka]
Le Papillion necklace by A:S:S
Tattoo makeup layer by elegant epiffany (Wait . . . can't find the store anymore. Wha?)
Boots: City Style Boots in Red by Les Petits Details
Skin: Kianna in Smokey by Mynerva. . . . There's some kind of drama going on with Mynerva and they closed the store. COME BACK. We know you wouldn't use ripped templates on purpose! (Shoot, is it OK for me to still wear this skin? I can't live without this skin.)
Pose in second picture by [croire]

Release the kraken.