Me, Obama and a slightly annoying fetus

This post will be meaningless and all over the place, but if you read this blog, you're used to it.

If you're in the mood for more thoughtful posts on love and the state of the SL economy, go HERE and HERE, respectively.

In the meantime:

1. I live in the desert. It was 80 degrees F. here today. I'm so jealous of all you people buried in snow, so I have this creative fantasy of transforming into a really frosty avatar for a while. I've been looking all over for the perfect skin, hair and wardrobe that conveys the feeling of ice, ice, baby.

I saw this Lorilei hair by Exile over on Gogo's JuicyBomb blog, specifically HERE, and wanted it.

Unfortunately, as with almost all of Exile's hair, I CAN'T FIT IT to my BIG FAT HEAD, GAH!



Hot mess.

Next.

2. Remember that day recently when SL was having major issues? ("That day," ha ha! Which one?) Some of us could log in, but many were locked out. For those of you who couldn't log in -- or for that matter, can't in the future -- don't feel bad. Whenever I tried to TP anywhere, I ended up in a scene like this one:



(Hey, for the record, Perez Hilton was inspired with the whole "drawing on photos" thing by ME. I've been doing it since I was 7.)

Not only were we all stuck there, but no one could move. And of course, some guy kept yelling, "LET'S ALL GET NAKED!" and everyone got their gestures on.

Good times.

3. I didn't vote for Obama, but he's my President now so he's got my support . . . for now. Mostly I like seeing how optimistic everyone is. I get really emotional on Inauguration Day, and since there was nothing going on in Tucson I turned to my trusty source for all things SLintellectual and SLeducational, Hamlet Au at New World Notes, for ideas on how to celebrate in Second Life.

Hamlet recently Plurked a request for Inauguration Day SL pics. I'd send him mine, but, uh . . . I'm thinking no. I'm sure you are too.

I started off the day at the Netroots Nation Island's live streaming audio/video of the event. But since I recently downloaded a new beta RC for Mac, I lost all my settings and forgot that streaming video wasn't automatically enabled anymore. So I sat there like a dolt, staring at a blank screen for awhile before giving up and watching it on my television while I chatted inworld with a friend. My AV was there the whole time though:



That chick behind me is an SL mentor, BTW. She made me feel better because her ARC was higher than mine. And NO, I didn't make her sign a photo release contract. If any of you see yourselves in my photos and hate it, holler and I'll remove them immediately.

That dress I'm wearing is a gift from my favorite group/store Shiki Designs. Join the update group, go to the store and you can get it too. It's cool but it has a very complicated name: Black and White Winter Dress. Sorry I'm not standing, or you could really see it in all its glory. (Ding Fotherington does it justice in her blog HERE though.)

The people on Netroots Nation Island ranged from the creepy to the completely un-rezzed to the patriotic:



I covered the eyes of the girl in front (with a Photobucket sunglasses 'sticker'!) to protect her privacy, but for the record, I think photosourced hair is CREEPY AS HELL. Let's all just STOP uploading real photos of real textures, please? It freaks me out. Plus, I thought we were all here to ESCAPE reality.

Note the instructions sign that I failed to read. It happened to be RIGHT NEXT TO ME. Maybe if I would have clicked my streaming video on, I wouldn't have wasted all my time taking pics of creepy AVs. Like this chick:



How do I get MY eyes to do that? I think it's just a matter of sliders.

And you know, I really have to hand it to those people out there who are striving to be original. Honest to God, I do. So many of us are too damn concerned with being fashionable, glamorous or cute. And then there are those awesome, awesome hilarious people out there who just say "screw it" and max out various sliders. And frankly, I really think those are the people who truly get it. SL is supposed to be fun and, HELL YEAH, funny. Why burden ourselves with the same pressures to be popular, charming, beautiful and perfect as we do in real life?

I don't know if that sentence was grammatically correct.

I spent a lot of time being fascinated with this woman:



Here's a frontal view:



I really, really want to believe that this was some kind of a glitch or had something to do with my viewer. Otherwise, damn honey, that is a long-ass torso you're rocking there.

I saw Obama in the front row:



Later that night, I crashed a couple of SL's inauguration balls alone. Sigh.

Here's a shot of the party at Sugar Hill with DJ Marjorie Dibou. Actually, there were several other dateless women dancing out there, but I couldn't get the dance ball to work, so I just stood there like a wallflower for a while.



I'm wearing Nicky Ree's Elegant Laura gown in red and white, BTW, because I know you're dying to know. I thought it looked fairly White House.

Here's a side shot of it. Nicky Ree would probably kick my ass if she knew I colored her prims from silver to white, but the silver just looked like blotches that never rezzed to me:



The hair is Shir from Exile, as part of the Heart of Love fundraising effort to raise money for Shir Dryke's heart transplant. I don't know Shir, and I'll probably be the only one to publicly say, "I really HOPE this chick is REAL and honestly needs our help."

I'm sure she is. Clickie HERE for all the information you need.

I went from Sugar Hill to Capitol Hill, where people were rocking Eshi Otawara's gowns, including Eshi herself:



It reeeeeally was fancy, and I was the ONLY one there alone, so I snapped that pretty bad pic and then left quickly.

That's about the extent of my Inauguration Day adventures. I know you're all fanning yourselves and breathing heavily by now.

4. And finally, Kissable Kitties is closing, which is sad, and everything in the store is marked down to about $1L, with fat packs at $5 to S10L. There are some great shapes for $1L along the back wall too.

It was a madhouse in there today. A pregnant woman with a talking fetus kept getting in my way. I know we women are supposed to be all proud of showing off The Belly and everything but, um, it's time for a part of my blog that I like to call:

"BITCH, COVER UP YOUR FETUS!"



All that bling cannot be good for the baby!!!

She even had bling on her eyelashes, but I swear she somehow psychically knew I was camming around after her, because she ran away from me and then poofed when I zoomed in for a close-up.

That's all my news.

Signing off.

Rock that scarlet "SL", baby

He sipped wine and looked at me with apprehension across a candlelit table.

"So, um, I have to be honest -- it kind of bothers me," he said.

I knew what was coming, but I tried to look innocent as I asked him why.

"You write it in first-person," he continued. "Like you think it's . . . real?"

"Absolutely not," I assured him. "Just think of it as fiction."

The topic was delicate. 

The topic was this blog.

And unfortunately we weren't two well-groomed avatars on a giddy pixelated date against a gorgeous Windlighted backdrop. 

We were two adults "trying each other on for size" in the real world, dining in a crowded restaurant on Date No. 3 -- he, in rumpled business attire after a long day at the office; me after hours of agonizing over my hair, makeup and how best to dress my way-too-prominent bones (a newish development ever since my appetite vanished with my employment status).

He was a successful executive who, if I squinted, looked like Harry Connick Jr. He had a nice house, a dog and a 10-year-old son. His jokes were bad, but his kisses were off the charts, so up until that moment he was getting a pretty high score in my book.

And up until that moment, I thought I was getting a pretty high score in his.

Up until that moment.

"Well, I never really took you for one of those Star Trek/World of Warcraft people," he said. "And, um, reading that blog, it seems like you're really into that game. . . . [pause] . . . It looks like something my son would play???"

(Oh lord, buddy, you'd better hope not.)

His eyes pleaded for reassurance.

I cursed Google, and the fact that GENIUS GOOGLE had found the one teeny Web site in the world out there that linked my real name with this blog, and the fact that the guy had felt the need to Google me anyway. Why can't they ever just stop at a credit report and a criminal background check and LEAVE IT at that????

When I got done with the internal cursing, I gave him my timeline of "Why I'm on Second Life" excuses:

-- It started with a guy in real life.

-- The guy lived in Texas, so we used Second Life as a "long-distance relationship tool."

"It's just like chatting on AIM," I explained. "Except you use avatars and, I don't know, you can um, swing on a romantic swing or hug or kiss or . . . you know, whatever."

("Swing on a romantic swing." Oh God. Or get naked and have pixelated shower sex with your fully animated private parts. And by the way, my boobs are HUGE there -- you'd love 'em!)

The excuses continued:

-- "Well you see, as the former PR director for [a global company], it really was my job to get on Second Life because I was constantly evaluating offers from marketing firms that wanted to create a Second Life version of the brand. . . .

-- ". . . and even though I'm now unemployed and obviously no longer speaking to Long Distance Romance, I stay on SL because I have other friends there . . .

-- ". . . oh, also I should really stay tuned-in to that whole, um, 'forum,' because I fully intend to be employed again someday and, as such, need to be as current and as well-versed in all aspects of social networking as possible . . .

-- ". . . and, um, because I work with fashion and beauty editors in real life, Second Life can be educational in that . . . uh . . . aspect since it mirrors so many real-life fashion trends, so, um, you know, I can really get a feel for what women respond to there and . . .

-- ". . . well, it's actually kind of like an interesting sociology experiment, just to, you know, watch how people react in that 'venue' and, uhhhh, since I'm supposed to be a public relations expert, I'm always studying how people, um, relate [that's it, 'relate'!] to each other and how they relate to virtual businesses and uh . . .

-- ". . . hey, are you gonna eat that last shrimp?"

Hell no, I didn't hear from him again. I got a polite e-mail from him a few days later, stumbling through a badly worded depiction of a hectic work schedule, a busy life, parenting responsibilities, his epiphany that I deserve someone with more free time, etc., etc., etc. 

It failed to say the one thing he really meant:

"You're a geek who totally and completely freaked me out with your weird and kinky video game."

Crushed, I vowed to grow up and start acting like an adult.

I demolished the online evidence of the connection between Me and Emerald Wynn.

And I turned my thoughts to more dour grownup topics, like unemployment insurance, grout cleaning, Oprah Winfrey's world domination, me vs. cat puke, birth control pills and how much I hate them, coupon-clipping, vitamin intake, energy conservation, smaller pores, soy candles, world peace, acclimating myself to a cheaper brand of gin, fiber grams, toenail fungus, whether or not to purchase an Obama Victory Plate for my future imaginary grandchildren, "what the hell is that smell in my refrigerator?", headhunters, human resources departments, references, to tweet or not to tweet, Deepak Chopra, decaffeination, "I swear to God that's a blow-up doll my next-door neighbor is banging over there," eyebrow waxing, lip waxing, bikini waxing, ShamWow!, omega-3 fish oils, "mineral makeup is bullsh*t," gas prices, cell phone minutes, Nancy Grace, recycling, antioxidants, free radicals, peptides, acai berries, terrorism, plane crashes, kidnappings, confession, communion, genuflection, meditation, "I always thought I hated Kelly Ripa but I actually sort of like her," coloring in scuff marks on black shoes with a Sharpie because shoe polish costs $4, horoscopes, my IRA, cashing out my IRA, 401Ks, cashing out my . . . "Hey, where the hell IS my 401K???", Jehovah's Witnesses and how to keep them away from my door, status updates, text messages, apps, deadlines, invoices, receipts, "I didn't think it was humanly possible but I really do think my ears have gotten bigger this year," my roots (hair, not ancestry), my roots (ancestry, not hair), antiquing, spellcheck, grammar, word counts, biographies, business books, self-help books, the economy, the lack of an economy, cover letters, war, whether or not I can handle Wal-Mart in the middle of the day and dead-sober, taking money from my Visa to pay off my MasterCard, taking money from my Discover card to pay off my Visa, taking money from my savings account to pay off my Discover card, "How many pizzas can I order before Pizza Hut thinks I'm a shut-in?", Excedrin, Advil, Tylenol, Xanax, Midol, Ambien, Pepto Bismol, Lexapro, hand-sanitizer, hairball remedy (not for me), Rescue Remedy, lactose, gluten, smoothies, Spanx, wheat grass, my thyroid, "wash in cold water with like colors," Starbucks, duvet covers, tire pressure, "let set for two minutes" and why????, filtered water, whitening strips, crunches, lunges, curls, the Downward Dog, belly breathing, getting into the gap, getting into The Gap, designer knockoffs, toxins, cellulite cream, ant traps, the paralyzing decision between nutty or creamy, tax write-offs, consignment shops, five-dollar foot-longs, dollar menus, dollar stores, "can I borrow a dollar?". . . ENOUGH!!!!!!

Yeah. It was like that.

So after a couple of months of that little experiment, one day I stopped and declared, "I HAVE HAD ENOUGH OF THINKING LIKE AN ADULT FOR A WHILE!"

And I logged back on here.

It was like a sigh of sweet relief. Like a druggie getting a fix? Ah, how about just embracing the realization that I have FUN when the world isn't on my shoulders, when my mind isn't clouded with all those ultimately meaningless details, and when I'm goofing around with my friends, whether they're online or in front of my actual flawed face.

And the last time I checked, a little fun is nothing to be ashamed of. Particularly these days.

If a man ever looks at me across a dimly lit table again, a question on his lips and eyes begging for reassurance, I'm just gonna shrug and say,

"I'm a creative type. I need my playtime. Now pour us some more wine, kiss me and shut the hell up."

(My thanks to Luth Brodie over on SL Revolution for the post, "That Cold Dead Stare of Confusion" -- I've seen it too.)

Oh, you filthy, filthy drama queens!

I guess I need to apologize to several people who saw my "Why I'm Not a Fashion Writer" headline on other blog rolls and came scooting over here anticipating lotsa juicy, smack-talking reasons why I'm not a fashion writer.

Whoops. That's really not my thing. I try to keep it all peaceful and lovely over here (which is probably why I only have eight readers). Unless you're in public without a shirt or pants on, the only person getting mocked here usually is me.

I'll break form just this once though, just for the people who made the foreign trek over here again: 

"Damn, you glamazon divas have so much drama flying in all directions, I don't know how you find the time or energy to fuel my fashion fantasies with your lust-inducing threads and the enticing words you write about them."

("Threads": Hell yeah, I just took you all the way back back BACK to the to the '70s, babies. Live it. Love it. And bask in the warmth of that long-ass sentence.)

I've got NOTHING going on in SL and I still can't even adjust a skirt prim.

Even though I don't know a lot of the backstories, or even the front stories, of most of the beautiful people, I did spend some time today living vicariously through them by scoping out about about two months of posts on Shopping Cart Disco, SL Revolution, Mayne Line Expose (WTF -- I didn't make the LIST!?), Go Fug YourSL and Are You F!@#ING Serious?, among other Sites I Visit When I Really Should Be Looking for a Job and/or a Rich Man.

ZOMG, the shocking shite that's been going down. I was exhausted when I finally digested all of it. 

(In SL, you too can build a snowman on the beach!)

Speaking from the perspective of someone who also has (ACCIDENTALLY!) kissed a girl posing as a guy in world (and did not like it, Kate Perry), I originally wanted to turn the rest of this post into a PSA begging people FOR GOD'S SAKE to STOP DOING THAT . . . but I think I'll save it for another time.

Heyyyyy, time to change subjects! :D

Here's why one of my New Year's resolutions is NOT to jack around with my face anymore while I'm waiting for the Ambien to kick in:



(The bunny and I are watching you.)

I also somehow turned my legs into puffy sausages squeezed in at the knees. I don't know how to fix this, actually. There isn't a "knees" slider, as far as I can tell:



If you too are having problems with your shape, I suggest you head over to the most excellent Shapes Tutorial (Part 1!) post by the lovely Meara Deschanel on the What the Fug? blog. Thanks, Meara! I tried following your guidelines. I look a little meatier now, which is a good thing, and I don't have a martian head anymore.

Unfortunately, I'll still always shrink the booty slider way the hell down to almost nothing when wearing skirts, particularly system skirts. 

We're dealing with enough stress in both worlds without the added threat of my badonka-donk-donk in all of our faces.

Now I just need an SL nose job and a chin that won't slice through glass, and I'm all good.

And finally, I never intended for this blog to be a "freebie alert!" kind of thing, particularly since there are so many blogs out there that are doing it oh-so right, but I'm loving this gift from Stitch by Stitch right now. I'm a huge Stitch By Stitch fan. The quirky, fun clothes make me feel yippy-skippy.



That outfit is called Ramona, but for some reason I renamed it "Little Monkey Dress" in my Stitch By Stitch inventory folder. As mentioned in my previous post, get it HERE in the gift bags at the Mantova International Arts & Fashion Festival runway, available through Friday.

Stitch by Stitch's Mantova runway show is at noon SLT on Friday (1/16).

Those boots are called Florence (in black!) from Kitties Lair. I got them as a noob, I think, and I did have to use a "scrubber" script to de-bling them. The hair is Roughup in Blonde from Junwave. Skin is the lovely Megan A Light from Rockberry.

That stupid look on my face is courtesy of me.

Hey, look at my fish tank!

(Fish tank available for your own photo backdrops -- just give me a holler.)

Why I'm not a fashion writer

I have a not-so-fond memory right now of myself at an Apple store a little more than a year ago, gainfully employed, credit card in hand and ready to buy a MacBook Pro.

The Mac Expert (or whatever they're called) asked me if I was a graphics artist. I said no.

Then he said, "Well, do you play any online games, like Second Life or World of Warcraft?"

Back then, I didn't know what the "online game" of Second Life was, so I said no.

Once he figured out that I primarily wanted a laptop for writing articles that now barely pay my bills, he said, "Well, why would you want to spend $3K on a MacBook Pro when all you really need is a MacBook?"

He actually "downsold" me on this tiny laptop. And I sort of curse that moment now, particularly when I'm squinting at fashion shows and seeing stuff like this:



RAWWWWWK that red bracelet and those big gray eyelashes, baby!!

Yep, I logged on today (after a two-month "detox/reality check" in the real world) and decided to get back in the SL groove by checking out a runway show. But not until after I gleefully dug through a bunch of yummy group gifts.

Baiastice's January gift is called Purpless. And [the oBscene]'s "Happy New Year!" gift is some groovy hair called Meggie in Midnight.

Put them together and they look like this (and BTW, I included that girl in the blurry green dress in this pic because MY GAWD, that dress is CUTE! Well played, honey! And I think the WIDE EXPANSE of cobblestone street between us, the blurry "WTF?" look on that chick's face as she checks out my outfit, my own space-case facial expression, and that hipster gray dude in the back really ENHANCE the shot. **bows and accepts photography award**):



Yeahhhhhh, um, it's a little purple. The generosity of Sissy Pessoa is unmatched, though. This outfit comes with soooooo many pieces (and options), I forgot to write them all down. Shoes are included. So is the purse:



I have a feeling the "What Not to Wear" duo on TLC would grab me and tell me not to wear this whole outfit at the same time (matchy matchy!!), but whatever. Once I got it all on, I didn't feel like changing. Plus, I really think the hair catapults the whole ensemble into bad-ass avant gardeville! I just need some big damn Posh Spice sunglasses to polish it all off. 

**runs from the What the Fug girls**

So anyhoo, today I went to the Haute Style & Co. and Gracie's combined runway show at the Mantova International Art & Fashion Festival, which runs through Friday.

TP in HERE. And GRAB the fun goodie bags waiting near the TP point. You'll get a folder with great gifts from Stitch By Stitch, ALB Dream Fashion, Runway magazine and SLCN.TV (specifically, wall and standing TV sets, yip yip!) -- as well as a complete schedule of events and shows.

The festival is a weeklong celebration of art and fashion from the international design community, featured at the Mantova sims and sponsored by the Mantova Group. There are fashion shows every day at noon and 4 p.m., various forms of art and entertainment all day, and "dancing with DJs" every night from 6 to 8 p.m. (And you know, I don't think you get to actually dance with the DJs -- but if so, I'm so THERE, baby -- I just write it like I see it.)

Here's a Web site about it, actually: CLICKIE! 

It's in Italian, so I don't understand a WORD of it! The pictures are great though!

Anyway, I loved the fashion show today. This outfit was particularly stunning:

"Ralph, shown by Olyvia, is a brilliant blend of color and style, with a replicating pattern that spans from the top of the bodice to the hem of the skirt."



YEAH!

This one actually looked like a gown I would really like . . . if I could see it:



(Kaits Doll by Gracie's. I could be spelling the name of the outfit wrong -- I don't think it's out yet. I couldn't find it in her store or on her blog.)

LOVE THE FEET!

**kicks computer across the room**

Hey, why do people feel the need to scream out the models' names during fashion shows? 

Or scream out each other's names, for that matter? 

Or just blatantly open-chat about stupid things while the poor announcer is up at the podium trying to read detailed descriptions of all the pretty gray outfits I can't see?

"You look so CUUUUUUUTE!"

"So do YOUUUUUUU!"

"OOOH, PAYTON, PAYTON, PAYYYYYYTON!!!!!!!"

We get it: You know the models, you know the fashion crowd, you look cute, she looks cute, he looks cute, everything is so damn cute, now shut the hell up.

Meanwhile, all I want to do is yell, "WOULD EVERYONE PLEASE HIT 'REBAKE'?"

Actually, the coolest thing I've ever seen at a runway show was a guy who ran naked up onto the runway and set himself on fire. It was oh-so bad of him but oh-so awesome. If you can make me laugh, then I guess you are allowed to act obnoxious. Otherwise, zip it -- your mouth and your pants.

And to my friends, here's why I always turn to you and say, "Hey, do I have little gray balls revolving around me -- or floppy gray blotches around my eyes?"



Yeah, yeah, yeah -- I know she's a big deal. I'm not mocking her. I'm mocking my stupid computer. Her J-Lo dress was cool, actually. Even when she was standing still, it floated all around her. How do I get these leather pants to do that?

And woooooo, girl, you have gotta be working that nipple tape!!! That is impressive. I felt really . . . covered up . . . standing next to her in my puffy purple ski vest/turtleneck sweater combo.

Um, so I can only take so many gray shapes in one day, so I left the fashion show early and went to a great hair store called House of Munster. I thought I rocked for "discovering" it, but now I see it's all over the blogs. Oh well.

HoM is on a sim called Twilight, and if I sound like a noob for not knowing about this sim before, well, whatever -- I've been on vacation. 

But DAMN, everything is so cool and snowy everywhere right now!!! Joy! It's my first winter in SL and I love the ice. It mirrors my soul and my current frosty outlook on life:



My foot is so excited to be there, it's glowing.

I bought this hair called Fluffeh . . . in Pinks . . . so I could look even more obnoxious in purple:



But . . . but . . . Santa promised me a facial expression for Christmas. :(

(Skin: "Debby Cream MU 18" by Dutch Touch, group gift)

Yeah, yeah, yeah - I know you hate my taste in hair. Shut up.

Hey, lookit my fish tank!!!

I can't stay away!!!!!

I tried to stay away, but I can't!!!!!

I miss my beautiful friends.

I'm coming in this weekend! 

Shite . . . do I still even have a house? 

I don't want to log on to freaking Orientation Island.

(In RL: Still FREAKING unemployed, but whatever.)

My life in bad pictures

I read my friend Meara's blog post about the challenge to blog every day during National Blog Posting Month (otherwise known as NaBloPoMo - what the HELL, why do we need another weird acronym in our lives -- have we really gotten THAT LAZY?).

I said I would do it.

But I can't.

OMG, I would lose every reader if I subjected people to this kind of long-ass rambling blog post every day. Especially today, when I'm just throwing out stuff that hasn't fit in other posts.

Like this random bloggage:

-- Lately I've been spending a lot of (RL) time on Facebook. All of my (now happily married, emotionally stable, gainfully employed) college and high school friends are there, as well as some SL friends who have transitioned into RL friends. Facebook has an SL app in beta called SecondLink for SL residents. I don't understand it. If my AV links to you in SecondLink on Facebook, are we also linked in real life on Facebook? In any case, I don't think the app is going over very well. I can't find anyone to try it with me.

HEY I'm talking to you, Su Lin!

(kidding)

Once upon a time, Su Lin and I vowed to get our real lives back. She succeeded. I failed miserably. **sniffs and waves from the other side of the border**

-- I wandered over to OpenLife to give it a shot and enjoy the fresh feeling of being a noob with bad hair in a foreign land again. But apparently OpenLife doesn't have a viewer for Mac yet. Or if they do, I can't find it. Damn.

-- Speaking of noobs, yeah I did the D-Hunt at Blockheadsville. Cool build, fun hunt, great prizes. 

And hey, even if they don't have prizes in them, you can still copy those noobs. 

And take them home. 

And put them in your yard:



HEY SEHRA, LOOKIT MY THANKSGIVING DINNER!

(EWWWW! That "Roadkill Noob" is really graphic if you zoom in. Yes I did! And how did this blog get so pointless?)

During that hunt, I glanced at this Wanted poster outside of a saloon there and realized that chick looked vaguely familiar:



I'm "Wanted"! But only worth $500 bucks?????

Wow, I need to update my profile pic. I haven't looked like that in a long time. 

I miss that face though. Ever since I accidently distorted my face to weird Jay Leno-ish proportions during a bad Ambien trip one night, I haven't been able to get my shape back to my much-adored (by me) original mod. It's always close but no cigar. I even bought the base shape from Laqroki ALL OVER AGAIN and tried to start from scratch.

Now I write my body dimensions down. If I ever get in a fatal car accident, my parents are going to wonder why there's a notebook by my bed with things like "Head Stretch - 76," "Love Handles = 27" and "Egg - 65" written in it. Or how about "Buoyancy - 23" and "Cleavage - 46"? (My mother will be so disappointed.) My cryptic Zyngo statistics are in there too. I'm working on a mathematical formula for Zyngo success at my favorite Zyngo hangout, Gamma Games! I'm gonna clean you and your Zyngo empire out one day, Ethen Rieko!

And now for a part of my blog that I like to call, "Cool AV, Man!"

"COOL AV, MAN!"

At the D-Hunt, I also ran into my friend Merrick, who is not usually the Banana Dance personified but happened to be running around like this:



Sorry your mouth never rezzed, Merrick, but cool AV, man!

I finally tried to TP out of that hunt and encountered one of those horrific TP borks where you can't reach your final destination and get dumped with an apologetic error message in a weird bizarro place:



MOTIONLESS WILD HORSES! WTF???? That is FRIGGIN' SKEERY!

Thank God it was daytime.

I maybe would rather be plunked down in the usual TP-error dumping ground, that Orientation Welcome Center (or whatever it's called), which can be just as scary.

AND FINALLY, I'd like to thank those of you who read my previous blog post and said, "Hey, if you think those boobs look big, check out the Hal*Hina skin boobs!"

So I did:



Hubba hubba, but hell no.

I look way too nice and happy. One friend said I'd look great as a Sailor Moon character in this skin. She also said, "You look so happy and cute -- I want to hug you!"

NOOOO! I don't hug! 

Well, sometimes I hug my friend Bon, but only when I have my Random Calliope Amandote! hugger on (it gives a gift of jewelry to whomever you hug) . . . and then I force him at gunpoint to give me back the jewelry. What? He's not gonna wear it! (See necklace in the Wanted poster above.)

Get your own free Amandote! Hugger HERE. Just in time for the holidays!

Anyway, if you like the boobalicious anime look, that Hal*Hina skin is called No. 5 in Cherry. Wait, that's not Cherry. . . . Maybe it's "Beige." Or "Natural." Bad blogger, bad!

Meanwhile, I'll go back to being an icy bad-ass bitch in Calypso in Diamond by oBscene (Halloween gift):



Love the beauty mark!

The End.

Thank you for the oBscene cleavage!

So, it's the day after the U.S. elections (in case you're living in a cave), and as a Republican, I am aching with the aftermath of Election Night alcohol and having to deal with some harsh realities. . . .

. . . mainly the fact that I will never be gangsta enough to wear this outfit I saw at Inimitably Designs:



But neither will you, Obama!

I kid. I love my country. Democracy is what makes our nation great. I didn't vote for Obama, but the people have spoken and he's our next President, so he's got my respect and my support. Seriously. It's invigorating to see our country so hopeful and excited. A little optimism goes a long way. So hail to the Chief!

Politics (and the relief that the election is over) aside, this blog post is really all about my current fascination with my SL BOOBS.

The fact that I am about to share provocative (ha ha) photos of my boobs in all their awesomeness -- or that I even care about their appearance, for that matter -- is a bit ironic, considering that I just popped over to Ali Chenaux's thought-provoking blog post "Class vs Trash" and confessed in a comment that I do not understand romantic SL relationships or the desire to be in one.

Shoot, maybe I'm an emotionally devoid sociopath.

Or maybe someone will come along someday and change my mind.

Anyway.

Once upon a time when I was a kid, I fell off my bike and broke my nose. I don't know why we didn't get it set properly. Now I'm in my 30s and my crooked nose bugs me. Earlier this year I talked to a few cosmetic surgeons about fixing it.

When I told my mother about my plastic surgery consultations, she said, "Honey, why don't you just get your boobs done instead? It's cheaper and then no one will look at your nose."

Ha ha ha, Mom. Funny.

I didn't fully understand her comment until I tried on some skins from [the oBscene].

[the oBscene] is one of the most generous skin designers I've yet to meet in SL. They give beautiful, frequent gifts to their group members as well as at their store openings.

Lately I've been running around in Ganesha in Diamond, a gift from their newest store opening on the Dolphins Archipel sim. (I just found out that gift was removed on Monday. Shoot -- sorry.)

To be honest, I prefer a softer face. The oBscene faces are a little tough for me. But my GOD, who cares about the face when the body shading is so damn gorgeous??:



(Hey, check out my aquarium and that glam girl pose stand from Aisuru Rieko!)

OK, maybe that wasn't showing enough skin, but I really like that Audrey Red corset lingerie from ALB Dream Fashion. Also, the Virgin Mary looking down over my bed might kill the mood a little, not to mention my frequent and bizarre urge to pose near my $24L yard sale aquarium.



It just occurred to me that the chaotic setting of my Mudshake couch probably is not the best backdrop to showcase that really pretty Sarasota lingerie from the Malice line at Beauty Avatar. Oops. I really need to sort my inventory, particularly my "Poses" folder.

Hey, I never promised you a Victoria's Secret catalog.

For the record, I didn't touch my modestly-sized boob slider for these photos -- yet they look SO DAMN LOVELY AND ROUND!

(Laugh -- can you tell I'm a wispy stick figure in real life?)



"The bunny and I are lonely."

(The set is called Venise Guepiere by Carnal. And wow, I have a lot of lingerie that's pretty much going to waste.)

So, speaking of body highlighting, sometimes when I'm bored, I like to wander around obscure shopping centers and find obscure stores.

For all you body oil enthusiasts, you might be excited to learn about Nyoko's Wears BodyOils and Tanlines.



WOW!

Please note, gentlemen, that there are also products just for you.

And holy moley, Body Oil 2 Super even provides "coverage to your fingertips and toes"!

Look, I'm not completely mocking here. I realize there's a market for this stuff. Nyoko is fulfilling a need here. Smart business.

However, Nyoko must have had some bad experiences with customers, because when you make a purchase at her (his?) kiosk, you get a notecard that says,

-------------------

"READ THIS NOTECARD FOR COMPLETE INFO! I am very sorry, BUT...
If you call asking a question already answered in this notecard, I will not reply!!

I WILL MUTE AND BAN ANYONE WHO:
- tries to 'friend' me unbidden!
- tries to teleport me unbidden!
- is causing a nuisance in my homes and shops!
- demands return or exchange service for copiable/no-transfer items!
- IMs and 'fishes' for conversation; get straight to the point if you have a problem or request!
- is begging, conning, abusive, or just plain insensibly angry!"
--------------------

For GOD'S SAKE, do not try to friend or teleport Nyoko unbidden! And take your insensible anger somewhere else! Plus, causing a nuisance in Nyoko's stores is bad enough -- do not cause a nuisance in Nyoko's homes!

(Nyoko gets my award for "Excellent Use of Exclamation Points in Customer Communication.")

And hell yes, I made a purchase. I was delighted to see something I had never seen before: BODY GLITTER!

Woop woop!!!

**Runs over to the What the Fug? blog in nothing but body glitter and a pair of giant orange boots and rolls around all over the page**

It looks like winter's first snowfall on a REALLY BEAUTIFUL HILLY LANDSCAPE:



Just in time for the holidays!

(Hey Sehra, forget about real Christmas decorations. I'm just gonna put a GIANT PHOTO of my SPARKLY, SNOW-DUSTED BOOBS on top of my house!)

And I swear my boob slider is only at 56 -- that is such an optical illusion! Thank you, [oBscene]! 

I'm gonna get out my RL bronzer and highlighter and mess around with my real ones later.

Gotta go -- ANTM is on!

Ta ta! (pardon the pun)

Random Bloggage

Hey, I'm working on a blog post that's much better than this one.

My apologies for my previous emotional blog post -- the one I deleted but apparently is still on Google readers. (Great.) Yeah, I was hungry when I wrote it, but no, obviously I'm not starving to death. (That's what credit cards are for!) We can all stop making food jokes now. I realize it was over the top. 

Hormones + anxiety + keyboard = disaster.

But NO, I won't be attending this week's food-themed Hump Day Party, BTW. I'm embarrassed enough as it is. :-\

And if you have no idea what I'm talking about right now, good.

Anyhoo.

I don't have a lot going on in my Second Life right now. Ever since I upgraded my Mac OS to whatever the hell "big cat" we're on now (Panther, Jaguar, Snow Leopard?), I've been crashing in SL every five minutes.

When I'm not crashing, I'm still "nesting" -- unfortunately just with myself, not another person. I got my big empty house decorated and then realized it didn't look like me at all. It looked like I cracked the whole thing out of a box, which I basically did.

So I'm still screwing around with my home decor.

Fortunately I read this blog post over on Shopping Cart Disco and moseyed over to Mudshake to check the place out for myself.

(What is it with home furnishing stores with names that start with "mud"?)

I fell in love with Mudshake. Now see, THAT place is me. Funky (in a good way), slightly bipolar, eclectic, goofy and a little bit strange (in a good way?).

So now my living room looks like this:



Hell yeah. Much better. If you feel so inclined, scrolllllll down to the post below this one to see what it looked like before. (yawn.)

God help me when my landlady checks my prim counts though. :(

After I gave my living room a shot of Vitamin B, courtesy of Mudshake, I got a hankering to get my hands on some WILD and CRAZAY hair. So I went to Sinsation, which is one of the first places I go when I want to evoke a "What the *bleep* is up with that hair?" reaction.

Now it's time for a part of my blog that I like to call, "Bitch, put a shirt on!"

"BITCH, PUT A SHIRT ON!"



Yep, I saw this honey there and NO, those are not real pasties. Those nipple-blockers are courtesy of my amazing Photoshop skills, partly because this is a family blog, but also because I know Photobucket all too well. They deleted my previous photo of a cartoon elephant jock strap from Wally's Wackies. They will totally delete nipple shots.

I couldn't believe this chick was wandering around with everything hanging out like that, but I must say I was impressed by the way her outfit perfectly matched the store.

The sign behind her says, "No Transfer. No Refunds. No Exchanges. No Exceptions." Unfortunately it does not say, "No Shoes, No Shirt, No Service."

Once I got over the nipple shock, I bought this new release called Koi:



(Hey, check out my fish tank!)

You can change the color of that hair yarn, BTW.

When my friend Sai saw it, she said, "What the *bleep* is up with that hair?"

Victory!

Hey, that shirt is also from Mudshake. Yes! -- They have some groovy little outfits there too. I'll admit that when I bought this shirt, I didn't realize it was so short. Then I put it on, sighed and said "what the hell."

At least it covers my nips.

I didn't buy this shirt for the front. I bought it for the back:



Yes, I am available for modeling.

I got home to discover that once again my next-door neighbor Sehra is outshining me (*cough*) in the holiday decoration department.



BLINDED . . . BY . . . YOUR . . . DRUMSTICKS!

(I think those giant carrots are a really nice touch.)

I can't top that, pardon the pun. I'm not even gonna try. Maybe next month it'll be ON though, Sehra! My army of snowmen will beat any big-ass blingy thing you can stick on your roof, including the Jolly Old Elf himself, not to mention all his damn reindeer!

So BRING IT, SEHRA! BRING IT!

Laugh.

(Sehra knows I love her.)

Until then, I'll just chill in my Pez-colored crib.



(Hey, check out my porch swing!)