As if one video of me haunting the internet wasn’t enough, now the “rapid-fire” segment is live, too. The number of views on YouTube aren’t very impressive but the view counts on the 1iota facebook page freak me out a little.
Anyway, they censored my editorial bit on Mace Windu (I said “he’s the worst”; I prefer Sam Jackson as Nick Fury). And I stand by my other controversial decisions of 1 double-bladed lightsaber rather than 2 single-bladed lightsabers. It offers better control and leaves your other hand free for Force choking or other Force power of choice. Also opted for TIE Fighter over the Falcon or Slave 1 because, as someone who has a stupid daily commute, I really don’t want to live in my ship. Short-range missions suit me just fine.
Well, this isn’t new anymore (2.5 months already!) but I hadn’t officially shared it here, so…
My only regret is that I didn’t get it somewhere more noticeable. It’s great that I can cover it up so easily, but it’s also a downer not being able to see and show it off. But I’m already plotting my next addition…the Imperial insignia…much to the chagrin of my husband. Just doing my part to keep balance in the Force with all of the current Rebel Alliance cheerleading that’s happening ahead of Rogue One 🙂
This year was no different than any other—I had a grand plan to dress up for Halloween. Since I paid tribute to Katniss Everdeen last year (see what I did with the wordplay there?), I thought it would be fun to put together an homage to Hermione Granger this year.
Operation Hermione would require very little effort, I reasoned. We already have a Gryffindor tie in the house—you can be jealous if you want—I own a black skirt, white Oxford blouse and I can make my hair wavy. All I needed was to procure a Gryffindor robe.
“We’ve got black graduation robes from college,” I thought. “I could turn this into a DIY project!”
And then I chuckled and remembered that I’m me. While I probably could make it work, the time and money expended would be far more costly than simply buying a costume robe that would inevitably look better anyway.
So search online, I did. There are a number of replicas (quality unknown) that ship from Hong Kong. Sadly, international shipping wasn’t really an option since I decided to start looking on Friday of last week. (A planner, I am not.)
There’s also a really sweet “authentic” robe from the Universal Orlando online store; it can be yours for a Franklin and Hamilton. Tempting, indeed, but still no guarantee that it would arrive on time.
I checked Targets and Wal-Marts aplenty to no avail*, which left me with no choice but to darken the door of one of those stupid Halloween shops. To the Harry Potter section I went.
What’s that? A hat? Crazy, talking, sorting hat? We’ve been there, we’ve done that, we see you’ve got a sorting hat.
Want a clunky pair of HP spectacle frames with a scarf that looks as though it were made of scarlet toilet paper? Oh, they’re all over that, too.
Feel like getting all Slytherin-y with your bad self? Pop-up cash-grab store has that covered…and the cheapo robe was only $60. After seeing the pricetag on that one, I quit feeling sad over the lack of Gryffindor robes. The high-dollar “authentic” version was looking even better.
*All was not lost: I picked up a $9 adult-sized Man of Steel cape at Wal-Mart.
With the prospect of Hermione seeming ever more distant, I decided to change dressing directions. I could sport my new cape with a Star Wars t-shirt and masquerade as a 5-year-old version of myself. All I’d need to do was buy some sweat pants and velcro shoes; the core stuffs of Wally-World.
This seemed a fantastic idea up until the point that I tried on said attire last night. It was atrocious! When a kid dresses that way, it’s a cute expression of their interests. When an adult dresses that way, particularly for work, it’s a disturbing bit of anti-eye-candy that you can’t unsee.
Rather than inflict that on my coworkers, I practiced mercy.
Today I wear my Stormtrooper hoodie…and only zip it all the way when asked.
This year was no different than any other—I had a grand plan to dress up for Halloween. And like most other years, I failed miserably.