Friday, January 23, 2015

Exhausting Work.

exhausting 1

I am not sure people appreciate how exhausting it is to be me.


Once I finally got dressed I went out to find a sim.  It is hard work finding one that I am not either banned from or that does not have their security orb activated.

exhausting 2

Then I have to wander around and find a good location, fiddle with the windlight thing and move my finger a lot to click the mouse.

It is beyond exhausting.  I have to carry oxygen tanks with me . . . and drugs . . . lots of drugs.


Holding a smile forever kills your cheek muscles.

exhausting 3

So does holding a look of disdain.

My face hurts all the time from just being alive and having to be here.


As you can tell, I work until I am exhausted and then I just collapse.

exhausting 4

Please send money to me at blisswindlow@hotmail.com.  I need a new face with stronger muscles, more clothes and some kind of an attendant to carry me out when I collapse.  I prefer my attendants in loin cloths and looking like they are beef cakes.  It helps if he has read 50 Shades of Grey.  But happy with money.  Please hold a bake sale or a gacha thingy or a fair for me.  I promise you this is all completely real.


SKIN:  DeeTaleZ Skin Gaby No.1 Spring
HANDS:  SLink
HAIR:  *Milk* Hair! Fuzz *Blacks* (now SoonSiki)
MAKE-UP:  La Malvada Mujer  In Color #5 and Sibilla#3
EYES:  Ibanez SmoothGlow Eyes - Teardrop
LASHES:  Angel Rock Eyelash J curl Philisha Lashes
BOOTS:  VG EVE RED SLEEK
OUTFIT:  top, skirt, clutch, earrings  {Indyra} Danette
GLOVES:  Ducknipple DN Mesh: Opelia Gloves
FUR COAT:  SAS - Arctic Fur Coats No. 1

Thursday, January 22, 2015

Gacha is Just A Cruel Taunt!

flower child 1a

Gacha.

I don't get it.

Oh I go.  I fight to get in so I can stand there and be cool.  I am not stupid.  I wouldn't want anyone to think I am not cool.  I want to be able to complain about not being able to get in, and scream that I made it when I know others are still sitting there hitting the teleport button every 2 seconds and praying to the teleport gods.  When I get there I wander and I look at what the machines are, once they rez.  That can take a couple of days.  I pretend I am really pissed and that everyone else has some nerve using so many prims when I am in the room and want to move.  I know how to keep it all about me.  Just because I don't get something doesn't mean I don't know how to have fun.

flower child 2a

I miss the days when we had those big ballroom skirts where you could like take out 8 - 10 avatars when you turned around.  There would be no way they would be able to see those little machines if you wore one and stood  in front.  At least I could pass the time pissing off people until I could spend my Lindens.  So much of the real joy has been taken out of Second Life now.

I kind of think that Gacha is meant as a thumbed nose at us.  I think it is like, "What a bunch of idiots, standing there putting in their quarter again and again and getting the same plain brown block of wood instead of the carved statues of ivory or silver or gold. Suckers. Got to run to make another bank deposit . . . "

Is that even remotely kind?

And then you get to go home with 23 little ugly something or another's instead of the one cute bunny you really wanted.  I never even try for the rare stuff because that is another code word, like Gacha, only this one means "bahahahahahaha."  I just want one of the normal things offered.  I don't even insist on a colour - just one normal thing.  Like if the set up is a cool garden house with flowers and pots and little characters and nifty poses, I get the grass . . . over and over and over again.    I have no idea what to do with all the lame ass stuff I get because I had no idea what I was going to do with the cute bunny if I got it, I just knew I had to have one because everyone else did and they took a picture of it with them for their blog post and got 99+ views in Flickr.  I really want to get 2 views on Flickr and one of them not be my mom.  Strawberry Singh had a bunny and once Strawberry Singh has a bunny . . . EVERYONE has to have a bunny.  That is just the way SL Fashion works.  You are nobody if you don't have what Strawberry has. I want to be a Strawberry too.

I take a picture with the block of wood and get no views.

I can go back 8 days later and try again and still get a brown block of wood.

Meanwhile 80 other people have also had 99+ views on flickr with their bunny.

I am not bitter.

I just think it is pretty damn rude for them to set their machines so that I never win.  Even when I use a really well disguised alt tell everyone that I know Strawberry Singh, they never give me the damn cute bunny. 

I don't even like brown.


Guess what you are all getting for Christmas next year?  I will give you a hint.  

flower child 3a

It is not going to be a picture of me with a cute bunny.


SKIN:  Please see designers preferred elite methods of advertising
HANDS AND FEET:  SLink
HAIR:  CATWA FLEXI Clara V2
EYES:  Ibanez SmoothGlow Eyes - Teardrop
LASHES:  Angel Rock Eyelash J curl Philisha Lashes
HEAD PIECE:  *LODE* Head Accessory - Magic
EARRINGS:  .Lvl93. Cross Earrings  - Silver
NAILS:  -{MUA} - Slink Nails HUD - Winter
MAKEUP:  +Nuuna+ Nan Makeups
SKIRT:  *COCO*_LaceSkirt_White
TOP:  SAS - Peekaboo No. 1 HUD Tops
SHOES:  Bens Boutique - Pamela Stiletto All colors

POSES:  Slouch Poses  203, 207, 209

Tuesday, January 20, 2015

Henging With The Stones.

stone henge 2

I know you are asking the same question I did.  I get the "stone" part.  What is a "henge?"  "A henge is the term given to a large prehistoric earthwork, usually but not always circular,whether of stones, wood, or earth."

stone henge 1

I think this is proof that prehistoric man was much smarter than modern man.  They knew what a "henge" was and met the requirements to qualify  one.  They didn't even have google or computers to look it up.  These people KNEW their henges. 

I am impressed they went with stones when they could have made it easier on themselves and gone with wood or earth.  They clearly had their eye on the prize.

I wonder if they won a prize.  Like were they the most henged of all the henges that year?  Who is qualified to judge henges and what happened to THAT skill?  I think we are just fading away to a shadow of our former selves.  We are so much less than what those people once were.

I can't rip through raw meat without my false teeth falling out.  I can't throw a spear with any accuracy.  I threw a fork at Leonard Wright once in grade 5.  I missed his head by a mile and ended up forking Susan Anderson instead.  She still won't accept my friendship requests on Facebook and I know for a fact she learned to type with one hand.


I can understand why places like Stonehenge are so spiritual, it is a constant reminder of what we once were and never will be again.  We've lost all the henge whisperers, all the good stones are taken and nobody has discovered a single new geometrical shape in the last bazillion years.  Traiangles - Pyramids, Circles - Stonhenge, Squares - checkerboards, and I think the Illuminati got all the others when they were at that storage shed auction and got the unit with all the modern music in it as well.

stone henge 4

I am trying to change that, inspire people . . . which is why I am working on my own soon to be prehistoric earthwork made out of empty takeaway containers that I am going to fashion into a polygon of some sort and hope that they will site my yard as the rebirth of human intelligence.  I plan on being buried here too, with some type of scroll in my hand, probably with the rules for Facebook or something on them.  I just have to see if someone is up for pulling my brains out through my nose and then wrapping me up like a mummy.  I have that part nailed.  I have the scar to prove it!

SKIN:  :[ Al Vulo! ] - [ Salina ] - [ Red Dream Sunkissed TDRF]
HANDS AND FEET:  SLink
HAIR:  *booN AAN330 hair
EYES:  Ibanez SmoothGlow Eyes - Teardrop
LASHES:  Angel Rock Eyelash J curl Philisha Lashes
JEWELLERY:  =Zenith=Black Noble Queen Pearl Stone
PURSE:  Le Poppycock *Hat box* Faded fragrance
NAILS:  -{MUA} - Slink Nails HUD - Glitter Art
DRESS:  Valentina E. Jezebel Belted Dress Navy @ FameShed
SHOES:  fri. - Cora.Heels (Coal)from Collabor88
POSES:  Slouch Poses  191, 193, 194, 195


When Clicking Gets Ugly.

beautiful 1

That awful moment when you are perving someone's profile and you click a link expecting you are going to another page with more info, only to find out that it has sent them a notice with your information asking for the link to be sent to you .... and there is no unclick.  I immediately tried to unclick it  . . . probably  80 times or more . . . .because I am a slow learner.   I kept thinking that maybe if I held my mouse a certain way, or clicked it in some special secret combination of clicks that the link would become active again and it would allow me to unrequest my request.

beautiful 2

I hate Facebook.  I hate it for not  being more like Google + and allowing you to "like" and immediately "unlike."   I hate it even more for not being clear that clicking the link was just going to take me hostage and provide the one person on earth that should never have more info on me to humiliate me with . . . more info on me to humiliate me with.

I tried to send a message saying it was an unintended click and I wanted my click rescinded immediately but Facebook doesn't allow you to communicate with them unless it is to provide them with money to free the messages they are holding hostage.   They don't even care that I was crying and I know they can see me.

Google + understands people have things that can make their hands shake like substance abuse, or old age, or extreme climatic excitement as you bond with what is happening on the screen in front of you . . . all of which can cause a hand to inadvertently click on an unintended link.  Facebook is just heartless. 

My hubby says I have poor click control at the best of times, as evidenced by my selection of tv shows using the remote control.  I frequently struggle with the garage door opener and I am hopeless with the air conditioner.  I should probably have a  supervisory clicker overseeing my efforts until I prove myself worthy of the responsibility.


I think I could get a note from my doctor to that effect.

beautiful 3

Damn Facebook.


And the worst part is that now my mom will know about my secret account I set up after she blocked me.  Technically, according to the judges instructions last time we were at court, this is stalking behaviour and even though I managed to find out the date and time of the next family reunion to which I was not invited, again . . . I still don't know the details.  Like where is it being held?  What I should bring?   And most importantly,  what is the secret password???    


SKIN:  Glam Affair - Sia skin ( Fairy Tales ) - Jamaica 06 from Collabor88
HANDS AND FEET:  SLink
HAIR:  *ARGRACE* YAE - Whites
EYES:  Marina  Payson Eyes Light Brown
LASHES:  Angel Rock Eyelash J curl Philisha Lashes
JEWELLERY:  [Modern.Couture] Jewelry - Orchid
NAILS:  -{ZOZ}- Spring Duo Lilac Polish - Slink Huds
DRESS and SHOES:  {TC}Dress  and shoes Dina
POSES:  Slouch Poses  186, 188, 189

Monday, January 19, 2015

Fire and Rain, Bloggers and Designers, My Take.

I've Seen Fire and I've Seen Rain

The other day I was checking some of my old links and looking through various designer's profiles and I came across a few that state "We no longer have any use for bloggers."  or "We don't use bloggers anymore." or some permeation of that.

I found that interesting.

The age old complaint is that bloggers ask for product, and then they never blog it.  They just want handouts.  Just because a blogger has never asked for product, or if they have they blogged every item, religiously and brilliantly, is no reason not to treat all bloggers like scum,  just in case.  Just because they haven't offended you yet does not mean that they will at some point, given half a chance.

Let's not just go after the guilty, lets get them all.  That way no-one slips through the cracks.

But as for bloggers and the big advantage of having review copies to blog, how do you think we are advantaged by that?  Most bloggers spend as much time doing their blogs as you do designing.  They have to keep on top of what is new, get out there and look around and shop, get their item, style themselves and their friends that might be in the picture with them, spend hours finding poses or props, choose the sim and the lighting.  Not sure how much time has been spent worrying about finding the perfect way to present your design and then to  take a  picture, working on the pic in photoshop and writing up the post and making sure all the links are there.  And then ... most of us . . . can never wear or use that item again because none of us blog the same dress etc twice.  Those copies you supply bloggers with are for the soul purpose of doing a blog on YOUR design.  Advertising YOU.

We do it at our own expense.  It costs us money to blog.  We buy the clothes or the accessories, and the equipment/programmes we use.  We pay the blogging fees for our websites etc.   We do that because we are self serving, users, who are only in this for the freebies and our psychopathic need to  abuse your generosity in supplying some of us, once in awhile, with a review copy which is about 1/10th of our overall blogging expenses.  I bet there is a special place in hell for us.  No, I know there has to be.

But here is something else to consider.  It is the bloggers who spend hours going over the feeds, looking at the mags, attending shows, networking.  These are the people who talk in their groups and on social media, sharing and promoting YOUR work.  Bloggers are often your constant, unknown and unappreciated, best friends, always advocating for you, standing up for you, liking your posts, showing up at your store, creating buzz about your latest creation. 

You benefit from all the bloggers that blog your work whether they got the queenly nod to be "allowed to blog" you or not.  You benefit from the non-english speaking ones, the ones that do not blog every day, the ones whose avatars are not "pretty" enough, the ones whose pics are not up to your standard, the ones who engage in activities you disapprove of, the ones who don't do their eyelashes perfect , the ones who have failed to kiss your ring just the way you like it kissed.  All those people you made it clear on your profile that piss you off, that you will never speak to and would never qualify to blog for you.  You still benefit from your advertising that they pay for and let me be clear that THAT advertising is the best advertising you can get.

I can tell you honestly after years of working in Second Life television and magazines that those ads are not the ones that rake in your big monies.  One of the biggest reasons you are a success is because the bloggers blog you and they are often very loyal.  Bloggers are all so different and attract very different followers for all kinds of reasons.  Those followers end up as your customers and they are customers you never would have reached if it were not for the many, varied bloggers who get into nooks and crannies you consider beneath you or you actually had no idea even existed.  These are not people you ever reach when you rely only on your  "prestige" advertising.  Want to know why?  Because the people who read those magazines, and care about the "fashion elite" are pretty much . . .  only the fashion elite.  They are not your biggest customers, nor your biggest fans and often THEY are the people you wrongly (from a business stand point} provide your review copies to.  They are the people who can afford to buy your designs, but probably never do.  They are the people that can and do wear your freebies often and repeatedly.

So you may not "have an use for" or "need" bloggers anymore.  And perhaps bloggers should check when they go to put up their blog, what exactly that policy is.  And maybe, if that is your attitude, we should all just not bother to put any details up about the product of yours we are wearing.  Maybe we should just post  the statement "info withheld at request of designer who does not need bloggers."  Justice would be served if only the bloggers you smile upon were to blog you and all the rest of the "unneeded users" stop blogging you at all.

I am not saying that anyone has to give out a single review copy if they choose not to.  I am not suggesting that designers do not have the right to choose who they want to review their items but this attitude that bloggers are scum or that we are your servants and have to jump through a million hoops and you get to hijack our blogs and tells us how we blog, just because you give us review copies of designs, has to stop.  "Thank you for your interest, not accepting new blogger applications at this time."  is polite and loses the attitude.  Dropping a blogger without an explanation is not acceptable.  It is especially rude when you try to avoid their question as to what happened.  Even worse when you begged that blogger to cover you when no-one else would and you were just beginning and they worked hard putting up dozens upon dozens of posts over a couple of years.  THAT person deserves a thank-you and a brief polite explanation that you are going in a different direction or something - NOT a "your pics are not up to our standards."

If you do send out items for review then either allow the bloggers to pick which ones, if any, that they feel compliments their style and blog.  Otherwise let them specifically request what they would like to blog.  Everyone used to do that and it actually allowed for some really interesting different blogs.  Great designs stay in stores a long time.  How does anyone know the depth of your talent if you are only ever going to promote what you just made?  There is an untapped market there, if you are smart.

So, notice from me.  You decide how this is going to go.  I demand a modicum of respect and decency if you want me to blog your items.  I work from the premise everyone is a gem until they prove otherwise.  But use me, abuse me, and I have no problem holding up a mirror and sharing the reflection of your actions.  I have a new philosophy, if you are going to choose to act, be prepared to stand proudly behind it because I will assume THIS is who you are.  I am not going to be abused and then help you keep your secret that you are an ass.

 And ya, some designers won't be getting any further free advertising from me. 

Not being nasty, just being real.  And hey, the designers who have been absolute gems and I have neglected to appreciate,  will also get added attention from me and recognition that THIS is who they are.  In fact we should all be stepping up that acknowledgment of the many generous, wonderful designers who work an awesome partnership of mutual respect with the bloggers, both those that are on their chosen list and those who are awesomely involved elsewhere.


You're welcome.

Thursday, January 15, 2015

Life Is Like A Box of Golden Eggs, Once You Escape . . .

In search of the golden egg 1

My brother was convinced there was such a thing as a golden egg. He has spent a good deal of his life looking for one. 

I must admit I sort of took it on as a personal mission to encourage him to believe in fairy tales. He kissed tons of frogs looking for his prince. He spent years trying to spin straw into gold and he even tried to cook a kid named Hansel once in the old oven we had out in the barn.

  In search of the golden egg 2

Turns out kids named Hansel are smarter than frogs and as soon as the water heated up, he jumped out. My brother tried to cover it all and say he was just, "giving him a bath"  but frankly I would have stuck with "I was trying to cook him." It's not that bath houses were unheard of back when I was a kid, just out in the back of the barn in the middle of the prairie bible belt . . . not so much. 

I think my grandfather was probably the "father" who invented homophobia. People back then didn't really put a lot of thought into what they were against, it was a gift.  To make sure they did not miss anything, they went with hating everything and then scaled that back to 1 or 2 things that were allowed. 

Men were allowed to make their wives cook and clean for them and women were allowed to obey their husbands.  

My brother was a dreamer. 

He may not have been the only one but after we saw what happened to him and the whole Hansel thing, none of us were ever going to admit to dreaming about anything. I assured my grandfather I didn't have a single dream anywhere in my head . . . except of course, the bright future ahead of me ... cooking and cleaning . . .

  In search of the golden egg 3

And then people ask my why I left the farm when I was 12.


SKIN:  [ MUDSKIN ]_Fina II_1 from Chapter Four
TEETH and MOLE:  [ MUDSKIN ]_Fina II_1
HANDS and FEET:  SLink
LASHES:  Angel Rock Eyelash J curl Philisha Lashes
HAIR:  ~Tableau Vivant~ Upshaw - Sidebangs - Solstice
EYES:  Marina Grace Eyes Hazel
JEWELLERY: (Yummy) Pearl and Diamond necklace and earrings  @ Uber Monthly Event
                      (Yummy) Pearl and Diamond bracelet  @ Uber Monthly Event
NAILS:  Hello Dave  Hud for Slink Nails Rick Autumnal Colours

CLUTCH:  *COCO*_SatinClutch_RoseGray
DRESS:  [LeLutka]-SLIVER dress/skin
SHOES:  REIGN.- Sangria Heels- Black @ FaMESHed
POSES:  Slouch Poses  119, 129, 130

Wednesday, January 14, 2015

A Bit Of A Frog In My Throat, And In the Bushes, And The Other Bushes Too.

whatever 2

Last night we had a spectacular experience. There was music, drama, fireworks and lots and lots of swearing. It is not often that the travelling Circus comes to town and parks itself in your yard and sends in ALL the clowns, but last night was magic.
  whatever 1

The frogs flash mobbed us.  Except they clearly have a short attention span and did not quite get through all the instructions.  They nailed, "a bunch of you assemble suddenly in a public place/our back yard, and perform an unusual and seemingly pointless act . . "  They failed to finish the sentence that continues " . . . pointless act . . .  for a brief time, before quick dispersing." 

They also failed to grasp the concept known as practice or that they should sing the same song.  Neither did they have a firm hold on harmony of being in key.  Someone left all the keys on the bus that drove them there.  There were no keys.  No-one was in, on, or near any key whatsoever.

They did have volume however.   LOTS of volume.  It was competition volume.  A fight to the death volume battle.  Silence lost.

Many flash mobs have incorporated instruments and dancing.  There were no instruments.  Probably because no instrument known to man could possibly cover the notes that they were using, let alone the  competing keys.   In fairness, they may have been dancing.  It was hard to tell.  One, it was dark.  Two, they may have been doing a modified version of River Dancing.  One where they followed tradition and did not move their arms, but a dance with a creative new take on it where they did not move their feet either. They just sat there.

And croaked.

And Crrrrroakkked and croakedddddd and CCCRRROOOAAAKKKEEEDDD.

It was disturbing when we could not hear each other talk, distressing when we could not hear the television  and damn scary when we could not hear ourselves screaming for help.

You know those movies where the cult is holed up in the compound and the FBI, the CIA, the DEA, PGA, the NFL, PETA  AND the Tupperware Lady all move in and they try to force them out by blaring this mind numbing sound all night long??? 


Ya . . .  it was worse than that.

  whatever 3Normally when one of the frogs get carried away we go out with the flashlight and find the little dude, often not bigger than your baby fingernail,  and we pick him up and carry him gently over to the trees by the douchesicle neighbours house  and carefully set him down. (the frog, not the neighbour . . .)    Don't roll your eyes at me, one of the other neighbours catches the frogs, puts them in a container and takes them with her on her way to work where she releases him out by someone else's pond.  It helps keep frog dating interesting and can also be an effective way to punch up your normal passive aggressive response to someone you hate.  Drop off the noisiest frogs outside their bedroom window. It beats writing cryptic messages on Facebook, especially when they have already blocked you.

Sometimes the big green tree frogs get into the down pipes and echo around for awhile before it is going to rain.  In every other instance the frogs only carry on for an hour or two and then shut up.  You can understand there really is no need to go on and on because you can only scream for someone to come find you and have sex for so long until you are either hoarse or you get laid.  But last night ... neither hoarseness nor getting laid made anyone shut-up.  Or maybe someone put Viagra in the pond punch and it was a really great night that went on and on and on.  Hard to tell the difference in frog bellowing between "Matilda, over here baby" and "WOOOOHOOO."

THEY WOULD NOT SHUT UP!!

We were out hunting.  And then one flashlight burned out, and another and by the time we found the little bastard we were beyond Greenpeace and National Geographic and "ahhh aren't they cute."   When we finally found him, turned out to be a freaking BIG green tree frog that that escaped the downpipes and was wandering willy nilly around the yard.  Like hello Mother Nature, isn't there supposed to be some kind of understood order to the chaos of nature?   We "helped" to relocate his ass down into the back paddock.

I could hear him screaming instructions on how to reach his revised location to "Matilda."  It was a far away somewhat muffled croaking that was still very distinguishable.  There was no mistaking that attitude amongst the cacophony of frogs doing their best imitation of horny toads.

And we just managed to slow our breathing and start to dream about a better world when our twilight sleep was disturbed with one giant "BUUUURRRRUP."   Playboy Frog was back.  Closer back.  Kissing the screen door into our bedroom back.    

 And he was pissed.  He didn't care about sex.  He knew we had no frogs in there with us, he just wanted to swear at us in frog croak while it echoed in the patio ... All .... Night .... Long.

Frogs carry a grudge.  They are vindictive.  They can move with lightning speed . . . obviously.  They can sniff you out.   They see you when you're sleeping  AND they are trained to kill.  I can't prove that of course but it was all there in his attitude, the slit of his eyes, the suggestive movements he made with his lips when he croaked.  It may not have happened last night but he is there, lurking in the bushes, waiting for the day when we finally have to come outside, alone ... and then ... He is going to tap dance frog attitude all over our sorry faces.  I know.  My hubby knows it.  We are frog toast.

I am writing this so you all know if anything happens to us, if we suddenly disappear, I don't care how innocent and incapable they look ... the frogs did it.  Look for us to have been dumped at some other pond, one with frogs that our frogs have issues with.  They can do passive aggressive every bit as well as we can.


SKIN:  Glam Affair - Sia skin ( Fairy Tales ) - Jamaica 06 from Collabor88
HAIR:  .:EMO-tions:. * CLARA * brown-pack
EYES:  Marina  Eyes Ink
LASHES:  Angel Rock Eyelash J curl Philisha Lashes
JEWELLERY:  * Morphine : Ghail's Accessory - Engraved Silver Gatcha RARE
NAILS:  Hello Dave  Hud for Slink Nails Rick Autumnal Colours
SKIRT:  WTB * ATHENS SCOT AZURE skirt @ The Fashion Collection
TOP:  WTB * RENEE' SCOT AZURE top @ The Fashion Collection
BOOTS:  WTB * DANY AZURE cuissard boots @ The Fashion Collection
PURSE:  WTB * MAGGY BS-SCOT AZURE handbag @ The Fashion Collection
POSES:  Slouch Poses  127, 140, 188


Tuesday, January 13, 2015

Taking the Wonder out of Winter Land.

down the lane the snow is glistening 3

They always make frolicking in the snow look like such fun.  People who have never been in snow romanticize it.  A good friend does not let another friend erroneously romanticize snow.  They just don't.

I have a friend in Australia who wants to go to Canada because she loves the winter fashions.  She gushes when she talks about plaids and the beautiful fur coats.  I would slap her but that is not allowed.

down the lane the snow is glistening 2

I so want to take her to Canada and drop her off in the mountains for an hour ... like when it is 40 below and the deer and the antelope are huddled together begging the hunters to shoot them and take them inside and cook them over the open fire.

I want to see her try to toss her static lightbulb hair and make duck lips at her phone while trying to snap pictures with fingers that are curled into a claw, frozen stiff with the tips turning black from frost bite.   I want her to try to do that when flesh freezes in a fraction of a nano second and watch her duck lips break off and shatter when they hit the icy ground beneath her feet.   I want to hear her call for her mommy when she has to pee and she realizes it will take her an hour to get all those clothes  off her and that when she does, unless she can be in a fraction of that nano second before her flesh freezes, she will die naked on a frozen lonely mountain and no-one will find her until the spring thaw.   I want her to consider the alternative to just pee in her snow pants and possibly be stabbed to death in her long johns from the shards of  pee ice.  


down the lane the snow is glistening 1

I am not a nice person.

Some people really annoy me when they gush on and on about how magical it could be when I am sitting right there in front of them with my missing fingers and duck lips, a living testament to the romantic nature of snow.


SKIN:  [ MUDSKIN ]_Fina II_1 from Chapter Four
TEETH and MOLE:  [ MUDSKIN ]_Fina II_1
LASHES:  Angel Rock Eyelash J curl Philisha Lashes
HAIR:  [LeLutka]-EVILLY hair/Naturals
EYES:  Marina Grace Eyes Hazel
JACKT AND TOP:  -Pixicat- Wintry.Cape (BlackWhite)
PANTS:  -Pixicat- Wintry.Tights (Black)
BOOTS:  {Cherry} Belle Ankle Boot - black
MITTENS:  ::HH:: Hucci Diamond Mittens - Color Change
POSES:  Slouch Poses  104, 111, 112


Sunday, January 11, 2015

Shave and a Hair Cut, Sans the Shave.

jewellery box momento 2

I cut my hubby's hair last night.  I have been doing it for years and it always works out very nicely and he remains handsome and I even get some kudos for the good job.


I was tired.  I have a knee that is killing me.  It was hot and muggy and the clippers were in my hand and on his head making the second swipe across his skull when I had a flash back to sheep shearing and bald bald sheep baaing on the floor of the shearing shed.  Except my hubby was sitting on the edge of the bathtub and no-one was baaaing.

jewellery box momento 1

I did what any woman in my position would do, I kept going.  I sang a little, asked him if he wanted me to make dinner that night, if he wanted a massage later on, could I fetch him his slippers and of course I promised sex.  I told him he was really handsome.  And then I tried to block his view of the mirror and hustle him into the shower.  Thank heavens for extra large bath towels and the life time habit of fluffing them before use.

The next morning he woke up and asked me if I thought maybe I had cut his hair shorter than I normally did.  I was caught.  I was pinned in my office chair, him standing between me and the door, the window heavily screened with pretty metal ovals.  I began to whimper.  I told him I had kind of wondered but the attachment was already on the clippers and he put it away last and so I thought he would never put the wrong one on and I went with it.  I considered laying on the floor on my bag, legs and arms in the air and showing him my belly.

He said it was ok, it would be fine in about a week or two and he left me alone in my office.

I sat in the corner facing the wall and spent most of the morning thinking about the consequences of my actions.

Thank heavens I had one of those calming bottles with all those pretty sparkles and things.  Otherwise I might have chewed my own leg off to get out of there.  I am not good with long periods of sitting reflecting on my mistakes.


I get depressed easily.


Tuesday, January 6, 2015

People Love Me.

Superstar!

I was at a very elegant dinner party the other night when the subject of Second Life came up. I think it went something like this. Someone was talking about how they had just scored one of the biggest sales their company had ever seen and someone else shared how they had just been promoted to president of the committee to oversee all things more important than anything the last person said.  I found myself standing up.  I tinkled my glass and said I had an announcement to make.  I had been working undercover in a world unknown to most of them, a world where I had boldly gone.  I was not even a man and I had gone.  Without permission or anything.  I had gone to … Second Life!!

There was a hushed silence in the room as everyone looked at me in awe.  I wondered if the halo over my head had just become brighter or whether their eyes were trying to tell them they needed to make an appointment with their doctor as soon as possible because they were all blinded and dazed.  I knew it had to be me because the snow was gone and it certainly could not be blamed on snow blindness.

And someone snorted in the back of the room and said that Second Life wasn’t real and I said … “It is so real.  It is scientifically real! ”   Then someone asked how I figured that and I told them that the people who created it were an accredited scientific LAB.  Hello?  Linden LAB??? People???

And then I announced that I could walk on water and fly.  I whipped out my handy dandy lap top and logged into Second Life.  Boy was I glad that I had dismantled my underground BDSM slave dungeon and given all the slaves the night off AND put away my “special tools” cause everyone gathered around and was peering at the screen. 


And then someone said, “but that’s not you, that’s an avatar!” and I looked at them through narrowed eyes and pointing to the screen said “THAT is the real me!  OMG you people are retarded. “

I had to go home because I just don’t have time for people who do not get how important I think I am. I was going to show them how just being on Second Life had increased my abilities on so many levels.   Multi-tasking alone, I mean I could be shopping, doing the banking, talking on the phone, having cyber sex AND be attending a board meeting all at once.  We have gone to a whole new level here folks.   We not only can do everything in Second Life . . . we frequently do.

I have signs above my head that say how busy I am and that I am a runner up in the 2005 Goddess of the Universe Contest. I have initials above my head that I have no idea what they even mean.

I have peeps!! I belong to groups with chat monitors for crying out loud. They notify me when they need names for their designs, or make me a special sparkly dress.  They share with me their personal wars and help to identify who we are all hating today.  They turn to me and ask for money when they need their third lung transplant in a year or when their puppy dies and they want to have it taxidermied into the pony they really wanted in the first place.   They are always asking me for input into what they should do next and whether I think their asses look fat enough in their new g-strings.  For the first time in my life I have fat asses as reference points that make my ass look awesomely tiny.  You can't just buy that kind of magic in real life. It really is all about perspective.  And gifts ... pffft ... They shower me with gifts.  I not only have junk drawers full of the stuff I have boxes of 100,000 broken down prims full of the shit"gifts." 

I AM IMPORTANT PEOPLE!!!

I have given other groups demos back in the day when I had more patience with the real world.  I gathered them around the computer and showed them how I can sit down at the piano, surrounded by all my alts and take requests.  In Second Life I can fill a room of people that like me and never argue.   AND, they are all wearing clothes I like.  You can't do that in real life either.  People get all weird when you try to dress them.  I stopped doing those demos when people refused to wait with me for everything to rez.  They judged me on being a cloud of smoke and never even stuck around to see my designer feet.  I can't throw pearls before swine.  I don't have any pearls.  I had a heavy paper weight and I have problems with distance.  My "before" was more like "at" and then it went "into" their forehead.  My reference "swines" were not as tall clearly.

I think some of the people I live with are finally getting it though, like hubby and the kids.  They seem to understand how important I am in Second Life and have stopped interrupting me for ridiculous things . . .  like dinner and which college they should attend.


Have to go 'cause there is a bus full of people going by and I want to show them all the names on my friends list !

Monday, January 5, 2015

Returned from the Great Escape.

leopard in the snow 2

leopard in the snow 3a

I quit blogging for awhile.

I kind of lost my way and the joy of it had escaped me.

Over the past few months I have come to a new understanding that allows me to come back.  These points are probably not relevant to anyone else but me and my own semi-warped way of looking at the world but here they are.

Second Life Fashion is a community that not everyone gets to be included in, even when they show up every day, work hard, and put in years.

Achieving "greatness" within the community does not guarantee you anything other than the brief moment when you wear your crown that everyone will suddenly know you and want to be your friend.  Once the moment passes, those same people will not remember you or have any use for you.  Some may, however, step in your face as they climb over your cold dead body on their way to the top.  

Second Life fashion, awards, popularity, blogging, designing, blah blah blah often has little to do with who is the best or has worked the hardest.  The best models are not the most popular, the best photographers are not the ones winning prizes or even being published in the magazines, the best writers are not award winning bloggers etc.  If you are involved in any of these because you want to "win" then you have to think of it more like Social Media.  Your rewards will be directly linked to how many people you know and interact with and who you know and interact with.  You have to be willing to network, to follow and support the key people, and to adopt the practices and thinking of the community. 

There are real costs for arguing against the collective voice.  People are banned, they are not included or invited.  Everyone I worked for in SL had a list of people that we were not allowed to work with that was either handed out in writing to staff or communicated verbally.  These names were not based on anything important - just people who had said or done something to them or their friends, often years ago, that were never to be forgiven or given another chance. 

People keep tally of those who take opposing views when, for instance, accusations are made of copying.  If you choose to simply not pick either side because you do not know, you can be seen as "supporting the enemy" and therefore banned/not picked/not allowed to participate in future events.  Second Life Fashion is a team effort.

I have never claimed to be the best at anything I do in SL.  There is such diverse talent with blogging, pictures, designing, styling . . . but I do know I can hold my own.  I never asked to sit at the cool girl's table but I thought after all these years that I would at least be allowed in the same room . . . a chair over in the corner.  Instead, I had a lot of negative unkindness thrown my way and pressure from designers like they owned my soul.  Some of them asked me to blog for them.  Some of them I blogged when no-one else knew of them or wanted to blog them.  I find it disheartening to know that every blog on the feeds is going to have the exact same dress and then that same dress will be repeated again and again by the other designers except with different textures on it.  I lost the whole part of blogging that was for me, creative and fun.  Instead I felt like a machine.

I have watched blogging go from beautiful detailed descriptions of clothes, detailed analysis of new products, fantastic stories of adventures in SL . . . to a few pics with the credits listed.  Feeds used to refuse just pictures as blogging.  Now they are everywhere.  I imagine because everyone feels under the same pressure of getting so many blogs done to please the designers.  We have moved from where the bloggers posted THEIR rules regarding blogging items to where we have to practically sign contracts with a designer with a huge list of requirements and the ever looming threat of being dropped if you fail to comply.  No-one much cares that a blogger clearly states they will only blog the items that suit their style.  No-one stops and thinks if a designer is demanding all that coverage of her things, things she usually sends out not things the blogger asked for, that a blogger will have no time to do any other designs.  If a blogger is seen only to blog for one or two designers, who will bother to even read their blogs after awhile?  They know they are blogging what they are being given, not blogging them because they love the clothes, or think they are worth showing to other people.  I don't understand how anyone thinks this is effective business?

So this is my conclusion.  I am going back to blogging only what I love and I will work on a picture or a blog as long as it takes and not just start throwing out cookie cutter posts.  I will write about whatever I want, probably not a lot to do with the fashion, but a lot about life, like I always have.  Some humour, some commentary . . .   I have people who read me because they laugh or maybe like to swear at what that stupid woman is doing now.  I am ok with that.  I will never have 50 million friends to like everything I do.  I don't have that many friends because I could never be a good friend to that many people and I worry about that.  When I have friends I think of them, not about myself and what they can do for me.    I also want my friends to be able to tell me truthfully whether they like something or disagree with me because that is how I learn and grow.  A fan club of people who tell me everything I do is fantastic and wonderful is just not reality.  It is just a bunch of people agreeing to bullshit one another.  It isn't real.

I want to be real.  Even in Second Life.  So I am back.  I call it like I see it.  This is my experience and I will take responsibility for myself and do things my way and yes, I know the cost of that but damn . . . I like me this way.  I really do.  

(forgive me for not having the item information, I have a few pics I just did while I was not blogging that I will post before getting back into full swing.)

Monday, July 7, 2014

Raw Talent.

osis1

I like to sing in the shower.  I have the magical ability to turn anything into a microphone. A shampoo bottle, a hair brush ... comes from a long life of being the undiscovered talent in the little house on the prairie.  Had my forefathers been more progressive and gotten a bit busier, television might have been invented long before it was and therefore all those talent shows would have been an opportunity that might have been afforded to me.

osis2

It wasn't.

Talk about my life sucking and my fore fathers being losers that let the whole family down.

So now I sing in the shower, or the bathroom, or the kitchen . . . or anywhere that my peeps are screaming for me to give them a little taste of magical abilities with the microbrush.

Hubby caught me the other morning and demanded to know what the heck I was doing.  He was looking at me like I was some kind of crazy person.  I told him I was doing crowd control.  When the mobs were out of control, standing at every window and door, screaming for me to sing just one more song ... sometimes you just have to sing so that the world goes back to normal, the neighbours are safe, and you give the masses their opiate.

osis3

He rolled his eyes and looked around the room, walked over to the sliding door, opened it and walked out into the yard and looked each way and came back in and said ... "no-one ... not a single person for miles ...mob control?   Really??"

Of course there wasn't anyone around.  My voice is like butter.  I soothed the savage beast.  They probably went home for a nap.   

You're welcome.

Am I wrong to feel a little unappreciated ??

SKIN:  [ Al Vulo!  ] - [ Celestial ] - [ -Diva Olive ] group gift
HAIR:  =DeLa*= Mesh Hair "Kesha"
EYES:  Ibanez  Ltd Edition Natural Eyes Grey
LASHES:  Belleza 
LINGERIE:  Angel Dessous -Suzette
JEWELLERY:  .:A&M:. My Fav  - White Pearls
EARRINGS:  (Yummy) Satin Bow & Pearls Set

Ever wonder how my mind works that I come up with all this stuff?? Well ... I have no idea BUT if you enjoy this Blog you might be interested in Bliss/Aria's other blogs - find out more at Aria E. Appleford Blog. It is named after me. Because it is mine and we had a meeting and I proposed it, seconded it and voted it in. Unanimous! Join us on Facebook!

Sunday, July 6, 2014

My Escape Outfit.

yftu1

I had an escape outfit under my bed when I was a kid.  You know, jeans, t-shirt, a hoodie, clean underwear and runners - a backpack with a flashlight and some snacks, a little bit of money, a book, my diary, a necklace that belonged to my mother,  and my collection of rocks.

yftu2

The most important thing being my collection of rocks which I was pretty sure was worth dying for. 

I was ready for any emergency so that I could just grab my things and run.  It was part of my emergency preparedness.  I was a practical kind of kid.  

Old habits die hard.  

I still have an emergency bundle under my bed.

yftu3

The only thing is that I doubt the clothes will even fit and if I manage to bend down to the floor, I am never going to be able to reach that far under the bed to retrieve anything so I will probably be found dead, half naked with a pair or kids jeans on one leg, clutching my rocks, having been killed by a monster.

It's not a pretty way to go and I probably could survive if I just did the reasonable thing and pulled the sheets over my head until the monster left or morning came,  but I know myself.  I would want to make a run for it.

I think this is a lesson about how being practical is not very practical and that people should have regular drills with their escape outfits and bundles and should update them when their thighs get bigger.  

You are my public and you have just been served with a valuable announcement.

You are welcome.


SKIN:  7DS 7 Deadly s{K}ins - Ursula gacha
HANDS:  SLink
HAIR:  .:{Rumina}:. Lark
EYES:  Ibanez  Ltd Edition Natural Eyes Grey
LASHES:  Angel Rock Eyelash J curl Philisha Lashes
BRACELETS:  InDyra Earrings and Bangles STACKS
JEWELLERY:  [MANDALA]DNA _Jewely_set_GOLD
NAILS:  -{ZOZ}- Spring 2014 Gold Polish - Slink Huds
TOP:  Baiastice_Mjrie top-green
SKIRT:  Baiastice_Yse maxi skirt-green
PURSE:  [F]oil- Chino Tote- White
SHOES:  Similar Larisa White

Ever wonder how my mind works that I come up with all this stuff?? Well ... I have no idea BUT if you enjoy this Blog you might be interested in Bliss/Aria's other blogs - find out more at Aria E. Appleford Blog. It is named after me. Because it is mine and we had a meeting and I proposed it, seconded it and voted it in. Unanimous! Join us on Facebook!

Thursday, July 3, 2014

The Dreams of Youth

xuww1

I was seduced by the 10 speed wonderment that was the evolution of the bike when I was a teenager.

xuww2

My brother had the typical boys bike that all boys had.  I wanted a vehicle, a sport machine, I wanted modern.

I got a 10 speed.

I wanted to ride it 5 miles to the bigger town.  I wanted to ride it 30 miles to school.   I was going to ride it anywhere I could where my passage was not stopped by cows or wheat or misplaced farmhands.  I wanted to be free.

I was going to be fitter than fit, finer than fine, I was going to have legs and buns of steel.

When I moved to the city I wanted to ride it everywhere.  I wanted to be in races.  I wanted to hit the open road and see where it could take me.  I was on fire.  I had taken a big bite of a dream and I was chewing hungrily.

xuww3

And then I got on it and rode down the gravel road.

My bike made a great clothes rack in the corner of the garage.  It may still be there.

I have a car.


SKIN:  [ Al Vulo! ] - [ Celestial ] - [ -Diva Olive ] group gift
HANDS and FEET:  SLink
HAIR:  [ Love Soul ] Hair*105*
EYES:  Ibanez  Ltd Edition Natural Eyes Grey
LASHES:  Angel Rock Eyelash J curl Philisha Lashes
MAKE-UP:  Hush
DRESS:  *COCO*_CamiDress_Brown
JEWELLERY:  ::69:: pyramid Nacklace -
SHOES:  LMD Beth Slink High Heels for FFL
  
Ever wonder how my mind works that I come up with all this stuff?? Well ... I have no idea BUT if you enjoy this Blog you might be interested in Bliss/Aria's other blogs - find out more at Aria E. Appleford Blog. It is named after me. Because it is mine and we had a meeting and I proposed it, seconded it and voted it in. Unanimous! Join us on Facebook!