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.