Craziness.

Us with the Italians.

More to come.

George F*&$^ing Lucas!

We're here for the Rose Parade, checked in to the hotel and got all our materials, and already met a ton of great people. How many times do you get to put actual faces with the names you see on message boards, ones you know live half a world away? It's the greatest, and it's all thanks to Uncle George.

. . . who showed up at our Welcome Dinner tonight.

And walked past us, about five feet away. And shook 13's hand as he went by on his way out.

Once in a lifetime, man.

I'll do more later, but as Legion Founder Albin says, "You're all in a room with people from all over the world, and you losers are tapping away on your LAPTOPS?"

The man has a point.

This will become important later.

I'm totally working on Parks Boy to start costuming as Obi-Wan. He would be *so* great.

I can tell that I've got a long way to go to get there, though.

Today had ominous undertones from the start.

I just knew the vibes were getting weird, but I'd already committed internally to going in to work early. Just to properly prepare myself, I dressed in unrelieved black from head to toe--an outfit that says, "Be careful, I bite."

Stopped to get an adjustment and have my chiropractor shake his head in mute disappointment when he looked at how long it'd been since I was in. When he started feeling my neck, he was quiet for several seconds before he just said, in some amazement, ". . . Wow . . ." Electrical stim for me, and I fled, but not before he told me to decrease my stress. Okay.

Got to work and realized that one of the departments at work that drives me the most insane made a mistake that makes us all look like a pack of idiots to everyone in their field. That pleased me immensely. Not.

Also realized that I will be further delayed being able to barbeque a particular ass in molasses at work, which further frustrates me. I need to lay the smackdown on that kid.

And then it was email day too. Yahoo.

I was reduced to sending out emails to a couple of my friends at work, asking them to "stop by my office and meet with me on a non-urgent matter", just so I could see a friendly face--one that didn't want anything from me. Unfortunately, everyone I *wanted* to see was busy working or out of the office or something else equally nonhelpful to me. Bastards! :)

People are starting to notice my patterns at work. Yesterday I went to lunch with IT, which was hilarious. The service, however, sucked nut sweat. I waited over an hour for sugar for my tea, and we waited considerably more than an hour for our food. I had to speak with the manager because it was abysmal, and after that, he came out himself to check on our drinks and stuff. After he brought me a new tea in a fresh cup and I smiled sweetly at him as he walked away, the guy next to me says, "You're still raging pissed and you're being super nice to him to avoid reaching up and choking the shit out of him, aren't you?"

This is why I scare the piss out of people, and why, the more people know me, the more afraid they get.

I forgot someone . . .

. . . in the list of people who kept my week from being abjectly hellacious.

I've had a lot of friends, and many of them I've known for many years. A few make deep love and loyalty a habit, and can be depended upon to be your go-to guy or go-to girl in a pinch. This chickie is one on a short list. I'm going to have to think about what your alias will be on here . . . Mrs. Varitek?

Before I forget.

I'm still getting used to the finer points of having a son. Girls don't ask if they can pee on the Christmas tree.

Boy also walked around the corner and stood there naked but for a pair of white socks, looking at me, and Hank the Hound wandered over, sniffed Boy's unit, and went to lick it. Me shouting at him to stop was all that kept Hank from continuing.

I realize that I don't have a unit and don't have to be constantly on alert as to where I am and am not authorized to pee, but jeez.

Continuation of "Week from Hell" post.

It only lets me add so many pics at once, so the order will be wrong, but it may post in order if I can do it right. Maybe. I think. I'm also really fried, so it's also possible that it will make no sense at all.

2035 and Pirate Chickie. With these two around, I feel like I can handle anything.

Beautiful, charming, shameless GQ Sith. It's like having a real action hero be part of the family. Oh, and once you're family, we're never going away. Just so you know. :)

The Week from Hell

Sometimes, you get to the end of a week and realize that, but for the support of some of the people you're lucky enough to have around, you would have been hauled away to the looney bin. I have those weeks with some degree of frequency, but this past one took the cake. Sleepless nights, toy drives, early mornings, a holiday party committee, Brownies, a dear friend (my age) having cancer surgery, helping write and rewrite and rewrite a resolution that will help shape the future of the Town . . . email review . . . contract review . . . marital strife that went nuclear . . .

In any case, today I feel it necessary to express appreciation to those who help me keep it together.

My wife, The Dark One. Just look at her--who wouldn't want to marry this woman?

Frankentrooper's greeting as we waved him in off of 32nd Street for the toy drive. I *love* this guy.

My loyal hound, Hank. Sometimes he can just tell when I need to snuggle.

The wife and Hot Ben as Spidey. Solid new talent in the Garrison, I'm happy to report.

CIP Boy.

FYI, my standard greeting for you now (in perpetuity, as far as I can guess) is going to be, "What the hell do you want?"

And by the way, stay out of my office. :)

Parks Boy. You have no idea how much I needed the stress relief that dorking around with you the other night provided. Thanks.

"They're really, really nice ladies."

Still laughing.

Dig this piece of 13's latest on his most-excellent site.

Well, fans will finally get what they’ve been craving for years. A parade to honor the brave soldiers of the Empire! I say it’s about time that the Empire finally got some lovin’ from this little rock of yours, and on January 1st, 2007, you’ll be able to see it for yourself on national television. Troopers from all across the Galaxy are being brought in to represent their Units, and TK-2035, Mara Jen, and I are all going to be there to represent the Dune Sea. That’s right, kiddies, the ADPoV Troopers are going to be there! I couldn’t think of two better troopers to attend this galactic sized shindig with, and as for them? Well, obviously, they are speechless at the honor of travelling with me as my sidekick, and hot, red-headed Sithy love slave. Yup. Can’t say I blame them, as anyone would kill for such a thrilling experience. The part about hanging with me, of course… The Parade should be neat too, and I’m certain I’ll have a blast recieving the accolades to me that are far past over due.

Sithy love slave. Classic. Not too many guys in this galaxy or any other that would have the nads to call me that . . . the difference being, of course, that he can get away with it.

Got fitted for the DSG wench "uniform" the other night, as pictured in the prior post. Too cool. Pirate Chickie is tailoring them to fit each individual body style and chopping the dresses in half at the waist, which means that they'll actually fit and that having a different size on top and on the bottom isn't a problem. Mix and match. The Dark One and I will both be boobalicious, although *my* securing button isn't as tormented as hers. I think the men will be totally fixated on her button and taking bets as to how long until it pops. Hilarious. The skirts are also borderline indecently short, which The Dark One says makes my legs look *really* long. Freaking tragedy, there.

I may post some pics from the weekend in Denver. Nice city, I love my sister-in-law, but I don't do cold with any degree of skill or grace. That alone makes me think that I'll have to wear multiple suits of UnderArmor for Rose Parade. Then again, it was nice to be in a place where the concept of a fireplace is still understood.

We are going to be *fierce* in these getups.

As modeled by Pirate Chickie and Amandalorian. Of course, seeing them in the outfits reminds me that I could stand to shed a few pounds. Would *you* want to stand next to these women and look like a heifer? No.

Besides, the Rose Parade cometh. I need to do some training in any event, because the only thing I've been working out in the last year is my carpal tunnel syndrome, and if I try to troop 6 miles with no breaks, they'll be scooping up my dumb ass off the pavement along with all the horse poop.

Wow. Come to think of it, 2035 might well have a stroke if he ends up with horse poop all over his shoes. I'll have to remind him to keep his head up but watch the ground to avoid the "steaming divots". Somehow I doubt that 13 will give a crap one way or the other.

It's that time of year again.

I think about everything I have to do in the next several weeks, and it makes me wonder how close I am to actually being insane. Spouse seems to think that the mere fact that it occurs to me that I might be crazy indicates that I have nothing to worry about.

I'm not so sure.

Now, on to important issues.

I'm still debating whether I want to go Echani Handmaiden or Bastila with the peripheral costume. I'm leaning toward Bastila, but nothing is written in stone. Pirate Chickie seems to think that the white on white on white will wash me out if I go Handmaiden. I hesitate about Bastila, though, because her collar piece and belt pieces are heavy leatherwork. Ultimately, I think it'll be TK first and foremost for Rose Parade, Mando clan chick for C-4, and anything else after that.

I had a day at work today that was highly irritating, but ended in someone telling me delightedly, after I'd solved his problem with a phone call, "God, I *love* lawyers!"

You don't hear that very often.

Late on Halloween.

Law school weirdness.

Well, I love my friend Casey, let's just make that patently clear. She's managed to get in touch with a core of the coolest people out of my law school class and is proposing a get-together in Vegas, baby.

My theory is that I'll post the link to this blog so that the old crew can see pics of my rugrats. The down side of that is that they'll see what a total geek I've morphed into . . . then again, that'd be hard to hide in any event. I never was exactly "mainstream" anyway. Now I run around with Stormtroopers in my off time. In any case, scroll back and quite a few pics will pop up. (In reference to the scary pic, no, my hair isn't black now, and no, I don't generally look that scary. )

I've been extremely pleased to hear (through Casey, naturally) about all the wonderful professional and personal acheivements of all these people. I lucked out in a big way, getting to go to Pepperdine and know them. If I had been anywhere else, the combination of my dad dying of cancer and my getting married and pregnant (all within 2L/3L) would have been enough to knock me out of school completely. I was lucky enough to have Casey and Ms. Wolf and the rest of the crew, along with Shelley Saxer and Steve Potts and Bryan Liang and the world-famous Dean Richardson Lynn . . . so here I am, wife, mother, attorney, and living a life better than I could possibly have pictured at the time. I get to play dress up, for God's sake, in addition to being a Brownie leader and sometime Cheerleading coach.

Life rocks.

Father and son.

Something high on the cool scale.

For those of you who don't live in Phoenix, we're in the process of building our first light rail system. At one point it will pass over Tempe Town Lake. How's this for a concept?

One of the best things I've done in a while.

I love my family.

In general.

I'm sitting here, eating ice cream and pondering the happenings of the last several weeks. I'm not really sure what's noteworthy and what's not . . . regardless, I'll likely just wander wherever my concious thought leads me.

I'm worried about my baby brother.

I was finally made a full member of the 501st. It was all very strange . . . after carving out such a distinct personality in the Garrison that is so wrapped around Mara Jade, the first costume that was accepted by the Legion was . . . my Isard. That in and of itself was kind of a fluke as well. I originally submitted my application at CIII at the end of April, '05. It's kind of been in limbo since then. It got to the head membership officer of the whole 501st, and he had concerns about my belt--which, admittedly, isn't precisely canon. It's not grossly off, it's just got some problems. SL0704 pleaded my case to the higher-up and he didn't move from his original position, which was that I'd have to wait if I wanted to get in as Mara Jade.

I was upset. 0704 was puzzled. 13, however, was furious. He whipped off an email to the Legion officer that was scathing at best. Did that make me adore him more than I already did? Yes. It probably shouldn't have, but the fact remains . . . girls like me are seen to be very independent, completely capable of handling themselves and their affairs, and perhaps a little bit intimidating. The fact that it would even occur to anyone to defend me is so wonderfully chivalrous and old-school that it never fails to charm me. The psychology of that is probably brutally obvious and cliche, but it makes no difference.

Anyway, I ended up trading some emails with the Legion guy, and he kept insisting that the belt needed to be better. In the process, though, kind of on a lark, I sent him pictures of me in my Isard from Comic-Con. His response was to immediately pass me as Isard and leave my MJ costume "pending". I was okay with all of that--I know what it's like to be given a set of rules to enforce and getting a lot of grief over how you choose to enforce them. Then, in a lovely surprise, I looked on the Legion board and saw that he went ahead and listed me as a Sith Lord anyway . . . no, it didn't matter, really. I know my costume will be up to snuff ASAP and it'll be fabulous.

But did it make me happy in my heart of hearts? Yes. I love Mara Jade, and I love that I'm listed in the 501st rolls as a Sith Lord in addition to being an Imperial Officer.

And I love that I have friends who have my back.

This rocks.

Cover art for the new SW novel wherein Mara Jade is at her badass finest . . .

Pirate Chickie, and me looking less scary. Kind of.

If this doesn't scare you, no evil thing will.

Holy crap!

Had two experiences at Comic-Con that will stand apart as I look back.

One, on Friday afternoon, we (2035, Pirate Chickie, and Spouse) went to a panel featuring the three authors that will be doing the Legacy series of books coming up in the Star Wars universe. One is Karen Traviss, whom 2035 had been in touch with through her LiveJournal page. Another was Aaron Allston, who wrote the X-Wing series of books several years ago that prominently featured Ysanne Isard, whom I was dressed to resemble that day. I went up afterward to shake his hand and thank him for his work, and ask him (as someone who had written about her) what he felt was the correct pronunciation of her name. "Yi-sann-ay Ee-sard," he said, "but you should ask Mike, since he created her." Meaning Michael Stackpole, I'm assuming. Freaking cool. But then the really staggering thing happens.

I turn to walk away and he says, "By the way, great costume. Excellent attention to detail. Very well done."

HOW FREAKING COOL IS THAT? AARON FREAKING ALLSTON WHO WROTE ABOUT HER THINKS MY COSTUME IS COOL.

Unreal.

Then it gets better.

Because 2035 has befriended Karen Traviss (as I swear only he could), we go with a couple of other people after the panel and have drinks with her in the bar at her hotel. WITH KAREN FREAKING TRAVISS. And we proceed to have a great time talking with her and hanging out, and we tell her that as she's creating this Mandalorian universe, we're designing our Mandalorian clan, with females, males, children, the whole deal. We talk about the culture and the armor and the people and what similarities they would have with ancient Celts and Picts, what keepsakes and badges of honor and embellishments they would have on their armor, things like that. Then a stunning thing happens . . . she says a number of times, "That's brilliant," and gets out a pen and starts to write down what we're saying. Well, it was more what 2035 and Pirate Chickie were saying, but holy crap! We're talking about Mandalorian culture and SHE is taking notes from US?

As I had told her about my profession (and we had bonded about working in the public sector, and dealing with bureaucrats and politicians and such), when we were talking about individual weaponry, she said to me, "You should have a vibroblade," and then gestures out of where a gauntlet would be, like it would come out from there somehow. "I mean, you need it for your work, don't you?" God, I laughed.

So apparently I need a vibroblade. As the Republic Commando/Mandalore goddess decrees, so shall it be.

She made a bit of a comment later about how if Spouse and I were involved in the management of the municipality, it should run like it's on rails. If only it were that simple. Heh.

She also came out with us later, after we stopped by the 501st dinner (at which they wanted us to pay full price even though dinner was over, so we left). We fled, she fled with us, and we sat and had beers at a Rock Bottom brewery around the corner. I can't believe she even came out, wrecked as she was. It was so great. She is incredibly nice and approachable and interested in all of us, clearly not just there for us to gush and fawn over her (which we likely would have, given the opportunity).

On a side note, I had a sweet little 19-ish-year-old at the front desk of the hotel who was shyly flirting with me every time I had occasion to wander past him when he was working. Clearly he was just impressed that a comic geek actually had BOOBS, but it's that kind of thing that makes me feel not quite so old after all.

For any of you who don't know . . .

I have succumbed to the MySpace phenomenon. Yes, it's something that mostly teenagers do. It's funny, though, because I'm "meeting" new Star Wars geeks from far and wide.

That's entertaining.

Here's the link.

And we're off to Comic-Con in San Diego this weekend, to commune with thousands of other geeks of all shapes and sizes. It's the first roadie that I've done with my DSG compadres, and it should be . . .

Well, I have no idea how it will be. But there will be a lot of alcohol (mostly for other people) and other craziness. Maybe I'll be able to describe it better when I get back.

All about the Isard.

Sewing Goddess has started posting her progress with the Isard gear. She rocks, absolutely and completely. It's totally different, having clothing made especially for me. Amazing, actually. I have some weird bodily proportions that make it hard to fit in store-bought clothes sometimes . . . as Sewing Goddess is finding out, when she fits some parts of my body to one size and other parts to a totally different size. She's brilliant, though, so it'll work out splendidly.

She found out that I love Colonial American gowns as well and said that maybe at some point she would do an Elizabeth Swann gown for me. Too freaking cool.

Right now I have to figure out for the Isard gear a series of things:
1. If I can get the wig to look right.
2. How I can do the white streaks in front without them looking ridiculous.
3. How much makeup I'm going to have to deal with so that I don't look pasty in the black hair.

Mud bogging with the Sithlets

Of course, one of my coworkers, thinking that I would be restrained by decorum, said he didn't think I would slide headfirst down the mud hill into the pit.

After doing exactly that, I reminded him, "Don't mess with me, man. I'm Sith."

In retrospect, I think it was an excuse for him to hit me repeatedly with the fire hose.

TD-0000.5 and his self-haircut.

Before, doing his "Dark Anakin" face.

The best part of the damage.

High and tight, just like Uncle Dent.

"You're much nicer on the Internet."

There are some great truths in life . . . I don't think that's one of them.


This picture just rolls me. Classic.

Entertaining myself.

Since it's 11 more minutes until 13 makes his big announcement regarding . . . something . . . I figure I can burn at least that amount of time on here. And if his post isn't ready by midnight, I can razz him about it. Woo hoo, more ammunition. :)

Totally fun costuming extravaganza at the homestead today. I love any excuse for having all the goofballs over to my place, and we actually managed to get a fair amount of work done. Sewing Goddess and Pirate Chickie worked tirelessly, and it was very amusing, seeing two sewing machines going on my dining room table. We also had a mini-meeting of the DSG, mostly because 13 doesn't pay attention to the information I email to him. We'll go over it all again next week, I'm sure, but 2035 won't be there, so it's probably good we discussed some stuff to an extent while he was there.

Next week we'll have to get out the water toys and let the kids run amok in the back yard. Both of my brothers will be here, which will be excellent, and I think we may get my mom over to meet some of the DSGers as well. Very cool. And Bailey Boxer gets to stay for a while! Yay us.

Four minutes.

I think the Isard/Imperial Officer uniform is going to ROCK. Sewing Goddess and Pirate Chickie are cutting it so that it's very figure-flattering on me, so I'll look great while I'm scaring the hell out of people. Doesn't get much better than that. Spouse wanted to know if I was going to try to dye my hair, and I think I'll just get a wig and get it precisely colored with the silver streaks in the front, so I don't have to dork around with it every time with my own hair. Dark brown or black temporary dye is also a huge mess, and unpredictable in terms of what comes out and what doesn't, so I'll just get the EBay wig girl that I used for the Anna Valerious, because that wig kicked ass. I'm sure she'll be able to hook me up again.

Less than a minute--we'll see if he gets it posted. ;)

Amusing quotes from the Freeway Party.

. . . which I trooped in 4242's clean gear.

Kid: "Is that a real gun? Does that gun really shoot? Can it? I bet you can't shoot it. You can't shoot that gun. Hey, you know what? My dad has a gun. My other dad, he has a BAZOOKA."

Me: "Oh, yeah? You know what my boss has? A Death Star."

Kid: "Oh. Right."

__________________________________________________________

Little girl, who'd just seen me tilt my helmet up to scratch my nose: "Somehow I knew you were too cool to be a boy."

__________________________________________________________

My Girl Scout Leader Buddy, who walked up with her family: "We saw you guys in the distance and I told the girls, 'There's Miss Jen!' We couldn't see your face, but we knew it had to be you."

__________________________________________________________

Police officer on a motorcycle, over his PA system, clearing the way for the 5K runners: "Uhh, Boba Fett, Stormtroopers . . . pull off to the right please. Troopers, to the right, please."

__________________________________________________________

Wee Man: "Dat Trooper my mommy. She's cool."

__________________________________________________________

Wee Man: "Me like Fett. Fett me friend. And Dent. And Bill. And Wance."

__________________________________________________________

Me, to Sewing Goddess, in a dust storm, pushing a two-seater stroller full of babies: "Not too many times when it's actually an advantage to be wearing one of these f'ing buckets."
SG: (wiping dust and the start of rain out of her eyes) "I guess."
{later, as I hear the rain start coming down on top of my helmet}
Me: "Raindrops are falling on my dome. That's it--we're going to Wal-Mart."

__________________________________________________________

Our friend Kim, witnessing the costuming phenomenon firsthand: "Wow, people must say all kinds of f'ed up stuff to you guys."
Me: "Heh. You have no idea."

Unless it's upsetting to 13 . . .

. . . in which case, I won't.

Moving into being Mandalorian

So I'm happy to report that The Dark One is now seriously considering joining the pack of Mandalorian Chicks that we're putting together. GQ Sith hadn't heard that I'd asked her (and she turned me down), but he was very enthusiastic about seeing her in armor.

Very enthusiastic.

Who knew that seeing his chick as an asskicking Mandalorian would be a turn-on? When I told him about 2035's vision of the group of us marching in and simultaneously taking our helmets off, he said, "My God, you'll be the talk of the convention. I thought it was bad being there as Vader, you guys won't be able to move without a thousand flashbulbs going off."

Heh. GQ Sith's a nice guy.

So now it's just a matter of getting a vision of how the stuff is going to come together, where we need to go to get us there. I've been putting around looking for the 2-piece Jango helmet that Monkey Head told us to get, and most places seem to have them "on order". Like I'm going to give up that easily. ::eyeroll::

I submitted another picture for 13's website, and one of Spouse. Spouse's hasn't appeared up there yet, for reasons which elude me. I mean, why wouldn't 13 want a man's hairy buttcheeks on his site alongside the pics of my cans and my ass? Heh. And my freckle, of course. Forgot all about that thing. I mean, what occasion do I ever have to see it, after all? GQ Sith was calling me "Freckle" all night, punk ass that he is.

Having The Dark One doing the Mandalorian battle chicks with us will be SO freaking cool. I'm totally excited. Part of me wants to do a Bastila Shan costume to go with her Visas Marr as well, but my list of stuff just keeps getting longer and longer . . . I love the KOTOR games, though. Might be fun just on a personal level to do Bastila.

I NEED TO DO MY FREAKING LIGHTSABERS. Crap.

I also need to see about having 13 or 2035 help me upgrade my belt/holster/shoulder holster combo for Mara. Mine's okay, but it could be worlds better. When I talked to 2035 about it, he told me some story about making a costume piece for some model chick and having to kneel down in front of her and measure while she's standing there in her underwear. I wonder what that says about the requirements for those guys to do leatherwork for me? ;)

I think that, for the greater good, I will be honor-bound to post the "Show The Love" picture that Spouse did for 13, if 13 fails to post it on his own site. When I described it to Frankentrooper, he said he'd probably have an aneurism laughing when he actually saw it.

Now that's funny right there, I don't care who you are. :)

Resisting the Dark Side.

With any amount of power comes responsibility.

With any amount of power exists temptation.

Discipline. Troopers must have discipline.

I swear to God, if Force Lightning really existed, entire buildings would be in ruins today.

CONTROL YOUR TEMPER, RED. WHETHER YOU WANT TO OR NOT.

Challenge for the day.

Number one, things have changed at work. Whereas the "nice ladies" who are only barely functional at their jobs were previously regarded by my office as harmless morons, they have now been classified as dangerously incompetent and somewhat mean. This leaves them in immediate danger of me kicking their teeth down their throats. So challenge one has been maintaining my composure in the face of all this.

Number two, much more pleasantly, I've directed Spouse to decide what new costume he wants for C-IV. I told him to putt around last night online and look at pictures, that kind of thing, and he did. For three hours, apparently, he did this and is dragging ass all day today because he was up past his bedtime.

Does he have anything conclusive? Nyet.

I think he's leaning toward Rebel Pilot.

Ahh, my poor, maligned Light Sider. Luckily, there's enough Dark Side in me for both of us.

Getting back on track.

Okay, enough with the depressing crap and cheesy online quizzes. (Although that last one made me howl laughing.) Celebration IV, people. Most of my good friends in the Garrison can't plan their way out of a paper bag (God love them), so it will likely fall to the ladies to make sure it all comes off in the optimum way.

I made an inquiry about a tour bus to take us all, so we don't all have to drive. If we filled the bus, it'd be about a hundred bucks apiece for everyone to ride. Don't know if I could get enough bodies at that rate. Of course, if my accountant weren't giving me such fits about my write-offs for the Garrison, I'd just "donate" it. Why can't I just have a free week wherein I could start that 501(c)(3) to "unofficially support" the work we do? Damn and blast.

Anyway, in what might be the second-best news of the week, my mother has expressed interest in coming to C-IV so I can (1) bring my kids and (2) be free to party like a rock star with my homies while she takes them to the pool and stuff when they get bored with the convention. I also told her I might dress her like Mon Mothma, and when I tried to explain who that was, she said, "I don't care who it is, I'm in."

My mom rocks.

I'm also going to lobby for my brother John to do Han Solo, and dress his girlfriend Martha as some version of Leia. Between the three of them, a Jedi outfit for my older brother Paul, and costumes for both of my kids, I should be keeping the Sewing Goddess busy for ohh . . . the next year.

I've also talked to Bitch Two about appearing as a Bespin version of Leia with her very-hot and very-suave Black husband as Lando. Of course, if they bring their son, it'll look like Leia and Lando were hittin' it and had a secret love child. SWEET.

My problem will be having enough days to do all of my costumes by that point, if the plans go as I'd like. I'll have my Mara, of course, but I plan to have an Isard (have to talk to Maulrat about colored contacts) and the aforementioned Mandalore Battle Chick done by then as well. You know how I know the Mandalorian one will be done? Because Pirate Chickie and Sewing Goddess are organizing it, and I swear, they could put the 82nd Airborne on the road, fully stocked and loaded, without breaking a sweat. The guys will probably still be putzing around with their Republic Commando armor the week before, and we'll already have formal portraits done.

Speaking of which, I've emailed SW Chick and started to make arrangements for her to come and stay at my place to take formal pics for the Garrison. Never a dull moment!

To go with the snoobs post, maybe?

Your Stripper Song Is

Pour Some Sugar On Me by Def Leppard Love is like a bomb, baby, come on get it on. Livin' like a lover with a radar phone Lookin' like a tramp, like a video vamp Demolition woman, can I be your man?" Break out the baby oil, you rock it old school.

This time the link will actually work: What Song Should You Strip To Quiz

2035, remind me to tell you a funny story about this sometime.

Snoobs!

Do check out TD-0013's discussion of the merits of various sets of glitter-covered "snoobs". That term makes me laugh.

We've decided to make a pack of female Mandalorians for the recently-announced Celebration IV. In Los Angeles. I almost typed "Lost Angeles", which would be appropriate in its own right. The groovy thing about doing anything Mandalorian is that it allows for some customization to reflect the personality of the wearer. Does that mean I should wear unrelieved black?

We also have, thanks to 2035, an opportunity to talk to author Karen Traviss, Goddess of Republic Commando and all things Mandalorian, and we hope to pick her brain as to some direction for the costumes. We'll all do some reading, but the costumes apparently reflect the mission of the wearer by color . . . yellow/gold signifies vengeance, black signifies justice, etc. When I asked Spouse which he saw as more appropriate for me, without even thinking he said, "Vengeance."

I don't know whether to be impressed with that or scared.

The pack of female Mandalorians should be impressive indeed . . . Pirate Chickie is leading the way, with Twi'lek Sith, Sewing Goddess and a few others in for the deal. We were kidding today that with our collection of hot women, we should do a fundraiser for the DSG by making a calendar.

Just because it's necessary.

Dear 2035 and 0013,

I absolutely adore you guys. For it to even occur to the two of you that a girl like me needs defending . . . you have no idea how novel that is. It's really nice to know that chivalry isn't dead.

Sincerely,

Your "Hot Redheaded Leather Goddess SITH Chick"

Funny.

"Yes, you are a dork. But you're a hot dork."

Someone described me as such today, and I thought it was amusing.

Umm . . . okay.

Your Love Life Secrets Are

Looking back on your life, you will have a few true loves. You've been deeply wounded in the past, and you're still recovering from that hurt. You expect a lot from your lover - you want the full package. You tend to be very picky. In fights, you speak your mind and don't hold back. You know you're right, and you can get quite angry about it. Break-ups can be painful for you, but you never show it. You hold your head high.

Your Love Life Secrets, Revealed

But do I know any? Except Nappy?

Your True Love Is a Gemini

Why you'll love a Gemini: Witty and sharp, a Gemini can keep up with your fast (and ever changing) mind.You're both fun loving and free spirits. You and a Gemini can enjoy each other without expectations. Why a Gemini will love you: Not only can you keep up with a Gemini's sharp tongue, you can introduce a challenge or two...You're appetite for fun and novelty will keep a Gemini interested - at least for a bit longer than usual!

What Sign Is Your True Love?

Hmm.

You Are Scary

You even scare scary people sometimes!

How Scary Are You?

O Captain, My Captain

Attended Bill's funeral today. Saw many faces I hadn't seen in a long time.

I've realized that I am truly blessed, because I have so many people in my life that mean so much to me--loving as much as I do is a risk. When God decides it's time for them to go, that's it, broken hearts notwithstanding. Loss makes some people question the existence of God, but it only reaffirms for me the fact that there is a God, and everything on this earth is as it should be, whether we understand it or not. It's not for us to understand, only for us to accept and work through as best we can. As much as it annoys The Dark One, I am still a big fan of Thomas Jefferson, and his theory toward the almighty rings true for me. He wasn't a Christian, per se. He was a deist, for the simple reason that he believed that there is no way that the world could be as it is, as perfectly designed (and ripe for humans to wreck) as it is, just by accident. The odds simply don't support such a thing. Logic told him, and tells me, that there is some greater force at work in the universe, keeping an eye on things, because no other explanation makes any real sense.

Bill and my dad and my father-in-law and my cousin "Steel Curtain, Baby!" have moved on to hang with the greater force. I hope they're having a blast.

I also realized today that a part of me is broken now, with having lost Bill. I'll be okay, and it will hurt less as time goes on, but a part of me just fractured when I heard that he'd died. I'm never going to be quite the same person again. Maybe that's the real net effect of loving someone, and really letting them into your heart. That person occupies a unique space, and no other human in the world can occupy that space, ever again. When you really lose that person, for good and forever, that spot is just broken.

More lightheartedness to follow. All this drama is about to make my head explode. Maybe I should go find another stupid online quiz.

By the way, thank you, 2035, for making the trek out to see me and let me buy you a beer. Even seeing you for that hour or so made the balance of the night much easier to deal with. Solid, loyal friends like you make the rough times bearable.

Who?

Yes, I had a small surgery today and I am heavily influenced by pain medication. These results, however, seem odd to me. Ah, well.

Your results:
You are Princess Leia

Princess Leia 72% Padme 72% Obi-Wan Kenobi 71% Han Solo 69% Qui-Gon Jinn 67% Luke Skywalker 63% Lando Calrissian 63% Mace Windu 62% Chewbacca 61% Yoda 60%

You are an excellent friend and an unselfish person, yet you like to spend a lot of time on your hair and fashion. You spend most of your time with guys that are too cocky, too hairy, or too related.

Just one of those things.

Spouse and I were going to go up and see my mentor Bill at the hospice on Friday. No small feat, getting Spouse to actually take a half day.

Spouse got a phone call while we were both driving. Bill died.

I got through most of the weekend by just letting the shock carry me. That's wearing off now, and it's getting real. I kept emailing Bill and telling him that I wanted to come and see him, but that I would wait for him to tell me that it was a good time. I didn't want to intrude on his time with his family. We knew his time was short, but everyone was saying two months, maybe six weeks. We got that estimation four days before he died.

I am comforted somewhat by the fact that he knew how much he meant to me. I sent him a personalized Chicago White Sox championship jersey around the first of the year, with a note from Santa saying that Santa knew Bill had had a rough couple of months, but that he'd been a very good boy, and that Santa hoped this present made Bill feel better. Bill apparently found it on his doorstep the day after he had to attend the funeral of a close friend who had died from cancer, and the whole experience had been very sad and scary for him. The jersey made him feel worlds better, and he said he showed it to everyone who came to the house for weeks afterward.

Bill is the reason that I do what I do. He gave me my first job. He taught me how to be a lawyer, how to handle people, how to properly look after bureaucrats and politicians. He taught me that some people, in practicing law, play checkers, but that the smart ones play chess. He taught me how not to let my good nature lead me to doing other people's jobs for them. He saw something in me that led him to want to set me up to be his "heir apparent", planning that as he moved toward a well-deserved retirement, he'd gradually hand the reins over to me as his chosen replacement, since none of his children had wanted to take over the "family business", and I was the closest thing to that that he had. He went to the Town and, knowing that I still had my babies and I needed to have flexibility in my work, he had them create a part-time Assistant Town Attorney position. He couldn't hire me personally because it's a government job, but I think that everyone in a position to make that decision knew that if they hired anyone else, there would be hell to pay.

He was eternally funny and supportive and loving, and he always seemed to come from a position of "Of course you can do this, why would it occur to you to think otherwise?"

He was another Wildcat, and together, we fought off the Sun Devil hordes.

He was completely devoted to his family, and they gave him his greatest joy. After more than thirty years of marriage, he still referred to his wife as "his lovely bride".

My greatest challenge now will be going forward, using the knowledge he gave me, and being worthy of the faith he had in me. It will be my personal goal from here on to become the best lawyer I can possibly be, and to know that wherever he is, he is looking down and watching me with pride. If nothing else, I know that when my life comes to an end, he will be there to greet me with a "Hello, young lady," and a hug. Knowing him, he'll also have an office waiting for me with my name already on the door.

In case it's not already patently obvious . . .

I get bored when I'm home sick from work. I know that if I stay home and rest I'll get back out there faster, but I am so unaccustomed to not having ten projects to do at the same time . . .

TD-0013 has his own website up now.

www.ADPoV.net

I love it. I was finding myself wishing I could listen to the "A Different Point of View" portions of the podcast shows without having to scan through all the rest of the Dragonpage stuff, and now I can do it easily. I can also leave comments about his rantings, which kicks ass.

The mere fact that there will be some evidence that he still exists in some form will be reassuring when recently we've had to go weeks without hearing a thing from him.

Not sure what to make of this quiz.

Your Personality Is

Guardian (SJ) You are sensible, down to earth, and goal oriented.Bottom line, you are good at playing by the rules. You tend to be dominant - and you are a natural leader.You are interested in rules and order. Morals are important to you. A hard worker, you give your all at whatever you do.You're very serious, and people often tell you to lighten up. In love, you tend to take things carefully and slowly. At work, you are suited to almost any career - but you excel in leadership positions. With others, you tend to be polite and formal. As far as looks go, you are traditionally attractive. You take good care of yourself. On weekends, you tend to like to do organized activities. In fact, you often organize them!

Three Question Personality Test

Take it here

There are times . . .

. . . when you realize that hard times do come, and they make you stronger and make you appreciate more the sweet, happy, carefree times, but still . . .

My cousin Billy died suddenly last week. He went up to bed and his wife watched the end of "American Idol", and when she got upstairs his breathing didn't sound right. Within the hour he was at the hospital, but he was already gone. He lived his life the way he wanted to live it, taking his two dogs through the Dunkin Donuts drive-thru a couple of times a week and stuff like that. Had he really known that the net effect of that would be dying at 56, and having his time with his grandchildren cut short, though, I can't help thinking that he might have made some different choices.

I found out today that my mentor is also not long for this world. I haven't let that information really penetrate yet, which I only know because I'm not panicky or hysterical. It's hard to even crank out words that make any sense on the subject. I think the internal shields have slammed down like they did when my dad died, which was the only way I was able to plan the funeral and deal with everything that needed handling. People tell me that under extreme emotional strain I appear to be cold and detached, but the reality is that it's all a defense mechanism. I can't allow myself to feel everything that's inside me, because it might make me fall apart and I don't have the luxury of doing that. There's still too much that needs doing.

There's always stuff that needs doing. And if not by me, then by whom?

Too good.

I absolutely love the fact that I posted about the ability to comment, and within hours, both people whom I'd mentioned had comments. That's just awesome.

I've been spending a lot of time in the last couple of days pondering friendship, and how if you look at different sets of friends that you have throughout your life, it can tell you about who you were at that point. I'm back in touch with a very dear friend of mine whom I've missed greatly over the last several years, and it's been kind of fun to remember the things we did and the trouble we stirred up. She was, and undoubtedly still is, beautiful and intelligent and witty and bold and fearless, and I was always a little in awe of her. On a broader scale, I've realized that I've had a number of girlfriends like that over the years . . . Julie Lane, Bitch One, The Dark One, Naugh-T (as her license plate on her old Trans Am read), Bitch Two . . . There's obviously something in that personality type that draws me, and helps me feel more fearless and bold and surer of myself. I wanted to be that, so hanging out with it helped me . . . I don't know.


On a less-complex note, we did a fundraiser down in Coolidge the other day. It was pretty cool hanging out with the Pinal County Sheriffs. Persons familiar with the group can probably tell by my height that I'm on the left . . . heh. I'm starting to enjoy being places in armor and taking the helmet off, and seeing that moment of surprise when the people around me see my face. There was a troop of prepubescents sitting there, and I rolled up to them with the helmet on and offered to let one of them try out my gun. They were stoked just at that.

Then I took my helmet off. One of them said, "Whoa, you're a chick."

Then I asked them if they played Battlefront, which led to a lengthy discussion of the best type of troop for the different planets, and what different medals you can win . . .

By the end of it, I could see that I was (for that moment) the embodiment of their perfect woman. Heh. Granted, it's not hard to charm a bunch of 13 and 14 year olds, but it was amusing nonetheless.

More info, for the record.

Up until recently, I thought I was locked into the Blogspot thing where you have to have a blog to comment on other people's blogs.

To my great pleasure, I found the place where I could select the "let anyone comment on your blog" option. I don't know where I found it, and I doubt I could again.

Moral of the story, you can now comment to your heart's content if you feel so inclined. In 2035's case, I'm not so sure that's a good thing. KIDDING.

It's only a not-good thing in The Dark One's case. Heh. LOVE YOU, WIFE!!!

My nuggets.

My boy.

















My girl.








The best endeavors, the best adventures, absolutely the best choices I've ever made.

This made me laugh.

Since I seem to be in the mood to do quizzes of late, I punched "purity test" into Google. This site came back, which completely rolled me. The wide array of subjects that *someone* out there thought merited a "purity test" astounded me. What the title should be is "Find the subject on which *your* interest borders on OCD."

Another quiz.

I'm a Talent!

You're a risk-taker, and you follow your passions. You're determined to take on the world and succeed on your own terms. Whether in the arts, science, engineering, business, or politics, you fearlessly express your own vision of the world. You're not afraid of a fight, and you're not afraid to bet your future on your own abilities. If you find a job boring or stifling, you're already preparing your resume. You believe in doing what you love, and you're not willing to settle for an ordinary life.

Talent: 51%
Lifer: 31%
Mandarin: 44%

To take this test, click here.

A good weekend.

Hanging with my buds at the end of the VERY LONG walk, but it all benefitted MS research, so it was worth it.

And Wee Man's good buddy Zach was having a birthday, so I borrowed 4242's clean gear and made an appearance. All the kids dug it.

Allegedly.

I'm a Ferrari 360 Modena!

You've got it all. Power, passion, precision, and style. You're sensuous, exotic, and temperamental. Sure, you're expensive and high-maintenance, but you're worth it.

If you want to see what kind of car YOU are, click here.

Radio Boy, mid-rant.

The Radio gig for the MS Walk

Well, as per usual for my encouters in-studio, Radio Boy managed to put me so at ease that I was totally relaxed, in spite of the number of people who were probably listening. The fact that I suffer from some stage fright when I have an audience (other than Spouse and Rugrats) still surprises people who know me. I liken it to 4242, who is usually very quiet and reserved, unless he's (1) full of alcohol, and/or (2) in the Trooper mask. Under the right circumstances, I can be very chatty and sparkly, but in the wrong circumstances, I get very shy.

Shy, from a chickie whose assigned job in the Garrison is "Wear the leather".

It's all about the venue.

Anyway, Radio Boy did his thing and I felt totally at ease, and we got some very good promotion for the Garrison and the Walk.

I forgot to ask him if we could get a recording of the thing for the Garrison archives, which kind of sucks and I'm sure 2035 will be disappointed. Ah, well. I'm just way way lucky to have Radio Boy as a friend. He has this tendency to come through for me when I need him, and that's a vastly underrrated quality.

It's good that The Dark One didn't catch the show, because she would have been screaming at the radio in her car and might well have wrecked in the process. Bad news for the second day of work, for sure. In addition to being gorgeous and wonderfully well-educated, articulate, and persuasive, she is also a true to-the-bone liberal. She laughingly says that she's so liberal that most liberals don't even want to claim her as part of their party. Suffice it to say, then, that the discussion of the immigration issue would have worked her up--just a touch.

I'll retrieve the picture I took of Radio Boy in "ranting pose" inside the studio and post it next.

I am a slacker.

I might as well just face that fact. Sad but true.

In my own defense, work has been a rather . . . textured . . . experience recently. It would seem that my ailing mentor is not making the progress fighting his cancer that we would all have hoped, so I am beginning to despair of him ever returning to the professional realm. The larger looming issues with that do not bear examining.

We had a lovely trip to California with the kids, which included a jaunt to Disneyland. Mickey is well, and he sends his best.

This is the best-ever Snow White who told Wee Man that Star Wars is the Dwarves' favorite movie, they ask her to play it for them all the time, and that Dopey's favorite Jedi is Yoda.

Note the look of total adoration on my kid's face.

"No way! Snow White is a Star Wars fan!"



Anyway, the big MS Walk is coming up with the 501st. It's looking like I may get to do a radio gig with my buddy Bruce (as a very big, very excellent personal favor) sometime this week to pimp it. That's good news, because donations have been a little anemic.

If you want to check out Bruce's gig, click here.

I'm tired now, and the website isn't letting me upload what I want to. Sometimes, you just have to go to bed and try to start over tomorrow.

By the way . . .

For those who are interested, I do have pics from the last bowling. I just have to wait for the DSG site to be able to take them again.

Things that I find amusing this week.

How ridiculous is this huge freaking foam disc thing that my moron dog Hank has to wear? He destroys every normal cone that we try to put on him, and at the rate he's going, he's going to chew his front paw off entirely.












My beagle, on the other hand, just has butt issues, and will keep licking until she gets herself infected. Gross. She can mostly successfully navigate with the cone on. Mostly.
















"Did I not tell you that I was going to shove my lightsaber in your ass? You really should have believed me."