Delilah S. Dawson's Blog, page 39

the dud

I found this four-leafer yesterday, and I want a refund.
My day started with kid puke and continued in a similar fashion.
Here's a tip: Make sure your kid isn't hiding a cup of spoiled milk behind his curtains. Make sure he doesn't drink it and spew all over you. Then make sure you don't mention that part to the school, or they'll wait until you're 20 miles away to call you to pick your rambunctious and clearly not sick kid up again.
And GAH and much FLOUNCING.
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I'm going to bed now.
With A.J. and Lucas and Joe and Berko and Mark and Eddie and Warren.
Mostly A.J., though.
Nothing like one of your favorite movies to smooth out a rough day.
DAMN THE MAN. SAVE THE EMPIRE!
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MAH BOOK. I WILL FORCE IT ON YOU.

My first vlog to show you my first book.
Look, y'all! I'm a real person! Who is Southern! And tosses her hair a lot!
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the wild hare

Every now and then, I get a wild hare.
An impulse.
Especially in spring, when it's bright and windy.
I've got one now.
I want to be outside in a long skirt in the wind, tugging a suitcase behind me down a street I've never seen before. I want to sit in a hammock in the sun with one leg hanging out, reading something unbelievable that gives me goosebumps. I want sushi, everything lined up just so. I want to try something I've never tried before, even if it's just a weird drink. I want to get a tattoo and heavy bangs and wear lots of eyeliner and smirk. I want to walk out of a midnight movie unable to shut up and sit at Waffle House with my fingers steaming against coffee I don't need. I want to climb waterfalls and throw myself into waves and ride roller coasters and leap off of very large rocks.
And... I can't do any of that.
It's a soft little suburban life I have, a wonderful one. I have responsibilities, things that tie me down. And, oddly enough, most tattoo parlors don't offer childcare. The most I can do is bleach some streaks in my hair and write something rebellious and walk barefoot in the grass and find four-leaf clovers, which is my secret superpower.
Which, honestly, isn't half bad.
But it's there, the wild hare. The longing for adventure.
For me, for now, the adventures must stay on the page.
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Lazy Delilah's Easy Slow-Carb Soup

Because it is a soup day, and I am slurping soup.
LAZY DELILAH'S EASY SLOW CARB SOUP
Ingredients:1 rotisserie chicken1 box of chicken stock1 can of coconut milk1/2 onion2T minced garlic1 can White Northern beans
1. Chop onion as lazily as possible. Saute in olive oil with the garlic until... see-through?
2. When that looks whatever, add the chicken stock and coconut milk.
3. Let that bubble on low-ish until it stops looking speckledy while you gobble the wings and oysters off the rotisserie chicken and shred... whatever parts of it you want.
4. Toss the shredded chicken into the bubbling soup. Get some on your favorite shirt that has the anchor on it and leave a permanent grease stain.
5. Add beans, being sure to complain about the can opener that you got for your engagement party in 2002.
6. Stir, add a little sea salt. Try a sip off the spoon and burn your tongue.
7. Let it cool off, then eat it.
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Yes, the directions are wack. I told you I was lazy and not a good cook.
But the soup is awesome. <3
Happy Soup Day, guys!
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I gave at the office

t.rex: I AM OBI WAN KENOBI AND YOU ARE PWINCESS LEIA AND I NEED YOU TO KEEP DIS PENNY. (hands me a quarter)
me: I, Princess Leia Organa, will keep this penny.
t.rex: OKAY. I GOING TO GO KILL A GWEMLIN FOR YOU. YAH! HI-YAH!
me: Cool. Keep Stripe out of my coffee.
biscuit: OOH, YOU HAVE A COIN! CAN I HAVE YOUR COIN?
t.rex: NO, DAT IS PWINCESS LEIA'S PENNY AND YOU CAN'T HAB IT.
(inter-sibling fight begins to brew)
me: Okay. Okay. Wait. Um. Biscuit, are you collecting money to help orphaned Wookiees?
biscuit: Well--
me: *wink wink* DO YOU WANT THIS COIN SO YOU CAN SAVE AN INNOCENT BABY WOOKIEE?
biscuit: (slowly) Um, yeeeeees.
me: Obi Wan, let's give her the coin. She's trying to help baby Wookiees.
t.rex: I AM SUBBOSED TO GET PENNIES TO BUY A NET.
me: You... what?
t.rex: I SUBBOSED TO BUY A NET. FOR THE MOSKEETERS IN AFWICA.
me: I vaguely remember something about your preschool doing a charity project about that. Remind me-- why do the kids in Africa need nets?
t.rex: BETAUSE THE MOSKEETERS WILL DWINK DERE BWOOD WIKE VAMPIRES AND KILL DEM.
me: I appreciate your altruistic feelings, if not your uninformed delivery.
t.rex: I WOULD PRECIATE DAT COIN. FOR NETS.
me: How about if I find another coin, and then you can each have one?
biscuit: Maybe a dollar would be easier for you to find for me? And is there a coin worth twenty-five dollars?
me: No and no.
biscuit: What about those special golden coins from Chuck E. Cheese?
me: Those are actually worth less than a dollar.
biscuit: WHAT? BUT THEY'RE GOLD!
me: Sorry, kid. You've been duped by yet another mouse cult. Those coins aren't worth anything unless you're at Chuck E. Cheese.
biscuit: THEN ALL THESE COINS ARE WORTHLESS! (throws coins in the air and storms off)
me: Welcome to America, kid.
t.rex: (busily scoops up coins) SISTER DWOP HER PENNIES! I BUYIN LOTSA NETS NOW!!
me: See? You already get the America thing.
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zap!

I used to show y'all pictures of my paintings.
Now I show you corsets and guns.
Let this be a warning:
Stick your fake pistol in my face, and you just might see it become part of my costume.
More pics when it's finished.
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the unruly piglet and the animatronic raccoon

Once upon a time, I worked in a very badly planned museum and was forced to wear a polo shirt with an embroidered animatronic raccoon on it. The building was a former Southern Living home, and therefore most visitors wanted paint swatches and tile-maker business cards, not a ten minute long, standing-room-only slide show about the evolution of jug-ear pots in rural South Carolina.
The museum was so nonsensical and boring that it made children cry.
Seriously. Children walked in, sat down, and CRIED.
So I did what any seriously bored person with no power does: I drew an educational coloring book about the raccoon on my shirt. And then I won a grant to get it printed. And then they wouldn't let me buy any crayons with the grant money, so the kids just looked at the coloring book and sighed, so *I* cried.
Then one day, I stopped to save a turtle from the middle of the road and thought... YOU. YOU WILL BE MY NEXT ATTEMPT TO KEEP THE CHILDREN FROM CRYING.
I borrowed an old aquarium and set the turtle up as an exhibit. The museum was in a botanical garden, and we had a naturalist on staff, and the turtle was the most exciting thing that had happened in months. We named him Dozer and pointed to him proudly whenever children showed up. They didn't smile, but at least they stopped crying for a few minutes.
Then Dozer laid eggs, and we released her into the wild before she got depressed, and things got boring again.
And then one day, my husband called me at work.
"There's a pig in the road," he said.
"I'm sorry, I think I'm hallucinating. Could you repeat that?"
"A pig. There's a pig running down the street. What do I do?"
"Is it Cute? Big? Small? Miniature? Pocket-sized?"
"I don't know. It's pig-sized."
And I had another stroke of genius.
"BRING ME THE PIG."
It took him over an hour to wrestle that poop-spewing hog into his vintage Jaguar and drive it over to me. When I opened the car door to welcome the sweet baby piggie to the garden with open arms, it shot past me, spraying crap, and promptly dug up the heritage sunflowers and went to sleep in a corner of the garden.
That vile, antisocial pig was not the answer to making the museum less boring.
So I did what any self-respecting museum director does before her boss finds out about an illegally imported pig.
I called the police.
They directed me to animal control, where the operator laughed at me and said, "That's free bacon, honey. Welcome to South Carolina."
So I did what any self-respecting once-vegetarian would do.
I called the butcher.
No, just kidding. I called the local goat farm to ask if they were looking for a new pig. They weren't, but they were too nice to say so. It only took three hours to herd the pig into a dog crate, tie it shut with twist ties, and drive her over to her new home knuckle-deep in her own crap.
They named her Carolyn. She got really, really big. As far as I know, she lives there to this day.
As for the museum, I quit shortly after that.
The only thing worse than being bored is watching other people be bored.
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The moral of this story? The answer to your problem is rarely a pig, unless it has been turned into crispy, crispy bacon.
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Bonus:
Here's a page from my failed coloring book.
Do we see the seed of my future steampunkery?
Top hat. Pocket watch. Frilly dress.
I think we do.

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a morning with t.rex

5am
t.rex: I WAN OUT. I AWAKE. I HUNGY. G.I. JOE DA MAN.
me: It's 5am. It's night time. Go back to sleep.
t.rex: NOOOOOOOOO!
me: *collapses on his bed and falls into coma*
t.rex: *lays down, pats my head, rubs snotty nose all over my face crooning the theme song to G.I. Joe until 6am*
*intermission*
9:31am
me: I should probably consider showering. I smell like con.
t.rex: I WANNA WATCH A MOOBIE.
me: Okay. Which one?
t.rex: Rapunzel Transformers She-Ra He-Man Shrek with Puss in Boots Sky High.
me: Choose one.
t.rex: NO I WATCH ALL DA MOOBIES.
me: Choose one, or no movie.
t. rex: PUNZEL PUSS.
me: Okay. Here's Tangled.
t.rex: NOOOOOOOOO I WANT SKY HIGH!
me: Too bad. You get Tangled.
t.rex: *has fit*
me: *puts in movie, waits for him to settle down and become catatonic*
t.rex: (5 minutes after start of movie) I HUNGY.
me: It's 9:30. You've already had two breakfasts. You can have a cheese stick or a banana.
t.rex: NO DAT'S GOSE. I WANNA BAR.
me: You can't have a bar for breakfast. You get one bar a day, when Sister gets home from school, or else you turn into an annoying little granola bar junkie who poops sand.
t.rex: I WAN TWO BARS.
me: You can have some toast.
t.rex: I DON WAN TOAST. I JUST WAN BUTTER.
me: You cannot eat a stick of butter.
t.rex: DEN I WAN A SPOON FULL OF JELLY.
me: You are the most ridiculous human being I've ever met, and you're only 3.
t.rex: NO I NOT. I AMB FIVE!!!!!!
me: Awesome.
t.rex: ALSO I AM PUSS IN BOOTS DUKE AND YOU ARE KITTY SOFT PAWS SCARLET. *gives best hug in the world* I WUB YOU, EVIL KITTY SOFT PAWS SCARLET.
me: I love you, too, Evil Puss in Boots Duke.
t.rex: AND SISTER IS LADY JADE AND DADDY IS EVIL FLINT AND KIKI IS HE-MAN'S CAT.
me: Wait. What are you wearing?
t.rex: I BEING HE-MAN. HE DUDDN'T WEAR PANTS. HE JUST WEAR UNDERWEAR AND GALOSHES AND HAS A GUN. *gesticulates at crotch like I'm a moron*
me: I think you are deeply confused.
t.rex: NO I IZZN'T! I AM HE-MAN! BY THE POWER OF GREYSKULL, G.I. JOE IS DERE! A WEEL AMERICA HERO! G.I. JOE DA MAAAAAN! *charges off in Thomas the Tank Engine underpants and blue monster galoshes with a pistol holster around his waist and a Clone Trooper gun in hand*
me: Well, maybe I can get something done now...
*CRASH IN OTHER ROOM*
me: *sigh* Maybe not.
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I'm joining the steampunk Dark Side

Steampunk Darth Vader?
Not my father.
Still, very awesome.
As was AnachroCon, the alternative history convention I went to in Atlanta today. Seriously, everything about it was fantastic. I met so many wonderful people, saw amazing costumes, heard cool music, and caught one entertaining panel by the artisan who did the leather armor for some of the Saw and Resident Evil movies.
More tomorrow.
As for now, I just took off my corset for the first time since 8am.
That means it's cookie time.
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help pick my steampunk costume for AnachroCon!

Please help me.
I'm going to my very first steampunk con this Saturday, which means I'll be wearing a costume for the first time. And... here's where the clockwork deer gets caught in the headlights.
I don't know what to wear.
I have 3.5 outfits photographed. I can mix and match the pieces and am not 100% sold on any one look. I also know that a big part of steampunk is accessorizing, and I don't have a lot of those yet. Hence, the con. There's even a hat-making class!
So, if you will, please let me know what you think would look the best for AnachroCon, an alternative history con in Atlanta. Mixing, matching, head shaking, and suggestions are all welcome.
1.Brown and black.

2.Kinda steampunk pirate. Needs accessories.

3.Steampunk libarian, shirt open.

4.Same, shirt closed.

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Available pieces:purple/gold pirate corset, brown steampunk corsetwhite renfaire blouse, black renfaire blousewhite collar blouse, brown and white engineer blousebig circle skirts in plum, tan, blackstagecoach skirt in shiny green
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Halp!
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