Percolator: Out With the Old, in With the....Same Old?

I always look forward to Christmastime--no, it's not the only holiday, but it is the one that fostered all this consumerism, nostalgia, and vacation days in December. I love the decorations, the twinkly lights, the food, the family, the coziness, the bare branches, and the long darkness.

There's also a lot of excitement about greeting a New Year and re-learning how to write the correct date on things. I hear/read, "Fuck 20##! It needs to be over already!" often around this season. Everyone's gearing up to begin anew, start over, reset, or

C:/>CD/

Everyone wants that clean slate, the full calendrical potential hanging on the wall underneath photos of baby animals arranged in flower pots.

One of them is pooping. right. now.

However, it really doesn't work that way. January 2015 is just....January. The start of a new cycle, only without Robin Williams, or Robert Schug, or Bill Young. Money is still tight, congress still has its head up its ass, hearts are still broken, being black is still bad for one's health, and I cannot fathom being happy about starting another year with those circumstances.

POTUS betta WERK!

Additionally, I don't want to banish 2014 summarized as another shitty year. All years are shitty in certain ways. More states implemented marriage equality, Michele Bachmann resigned from congress, President Obama wore a fucking tiara, and I don't want to shove these events into storage in the musty warehouse of my brain, stacked on top of a box marked Ark of the Covenant.


My personal recap of 2014 includes moving into a rickety house with my best friend and throwing fantastic parties. Repairing clothes, altering dresses, and making several great costumes for clients as I tried to get a sewing business started. I enjoyed every day I spent time with my Dad, Mom, and Stepdad. I went on some lovely dates, kissed some delectable people, and even had a sweet boyfriend for a few months.

No way am I going to banish a year containing all those memories. On the other hand, NO WAY am I going to passively allow more of the nasty crap to seep into my life. I probably won't succeed in the latter, but I'll keep trying, no matter what month it's turning.

I'm not excited for 2015. There, I said it. If any of you, my cherished readers, are ready for this upcoming re-do, I do wish you a Happy *Next* Year.

Approximately 5/8th of my cat's life involves
finding a warm hooman and snoozing with them.

Tour Around Haus Manna

In trying to run down my camera's battery so I could fully charge it for a day of shooting,
I photographed things around my house that I thought were neat:

Morrigan: the lazy-ass tortie.

My cherished Nosferatu necklace, the figure embedded in smoky resin. 

Black Velvet Jesus in the Garden. Painted by mom, frame made by dad. Paint-by-numbers.
I grew up with this painting always around. Love the visual & tactile aspects. I can pet Jesus!
I kinda hope it becomes legend, and my mom gets a cult following of vintage velvet painting snobs.

Miniature replica of Tutankhamen's sarcophagus. There's actually a tiny, gauze-wrapped mummy inside!

Rooster ewer. Really not much more to say.

Artist's dummy belonging to Other Manna. I mean to sew a model dress over it. Someday.

This image basically sums up the existence of Spaz; he's just a huge butthole.

Lights stapled to our porch. Hey, this is so whimsicle, I could sell it on Etsy now.

Spooky tornado dome belonging to the Other Manna. Tiny paper bats swirl all about!

A sprout photo from this spring. Back when I was enamored with bringing life from the ground. Now, eff that shit.

Not shown: dirty dishes in the sink, floors gritty with cat litter, and thread-balls from my workspace. I'll cover that in the next post (said no Manna, ever).

Rambling Ren Fest Recollections

Alliteration is clever.

Top Ten List of Bestest Things That Happened Last Weekend

10. Dregs in the Dark show--now with 45% more liquor! The band plays an all-request after-hours show for cast & crew. Maggie & Mike Heck soak the audience with booze-laced jello and pudding shots.

9. Learned a new dirty joke from ladies at the Mead Social. These women knew how to rock a mead social. Ask me about "the Southern ladies". 

8. A friend lost a sweater with great sentimental value 2 weeks ago. This weekend it returned. 

7. Babybel cheese red wax wrappers make good clown noses. Taught this to a 4-year old wizard in what was probably my first one-on-one interaction with a child on street.

6. Ate a cinnamon roll with progressively more and more frosting getting on my face. Wound up with massive sugar high. I scared the Welshman.

5. Roma & Captain Clifton give me money for a second cinnamon roll. Chaos ensues.

4. For the first time, I didn't feel like crawling into a hole and dying after bombing a Vil Ten insult. I bomb quite often, but this is the first time I bounced and recovered.

3. Free-play with commedia masks. The Lord High Sheriff dueled Capitano for Isabella's honor, Arlecchino and Columbina fought, Isabella threw a tantrum. These things may or may not be related.

2. Lots of comforting, sincere hugs from many cherished friends. When I make a public statement about needing hugs, I really need hugs.

And the number one spot for Bestest Things That Happened Last Weekend goes to...

1. Organized by the Original Manna, my friends raised enough money to replace my leather mug stolen the weekend before last. More than enough, because I got to pick out a cork-top lid, too. People had been passing money to Manna right under my nose, and I never picked up on it because I can't fathom being treated as special by so many friends. Total astonishment.

I give very heartfelt thanks to everyone who donated money, everyone who stopped to give me a hug, and everyone who looked into my face to sincerely ask how I was doing. I felt True Love.

Ren Fest 2014- Opening Weekend

A recap of each weekend posted here for posterity, for reflection, and for to share the joy.


Opening Weekend: Highland Games (resulting in lots of kilts and bagpipes, both of which I greatly enjoy)

-Saturday was full of greeting Village characters that I haven't seen in the better part of a year. It was satisfying and comfortable to walk around the site once again.

-Performed with Sef as "The Homewreckers" in the first round of Vilification Tennis. We came out strong, and lost our match with dignity. I could feel the difference a year of improv and comedy made in my stage presence and connecting with the audience.

-Our afternoon gig, participating in the Mead Social as the peanut gallery of jokesters and storytellers ended up being great fun. Charles Sutter, Winemaker, gave a naughty limerick where he cuts himself off instead of saying the final rhyming word; "clitoris".  At the back of the crowd, Merry chimes in with, "...her arras?" "What?" sputters Charles. "It's a curtain." Merry explains, as our troupe explodes in laughter, further confusing everyone. When we perform Hamlet, Polonius is stabbed through the "arras" (a rich tapestry, in truth), which the troupe mistakes for part of human anatomy during the show.

-After hours, I sat with friends inside a delicious, air-conditioned trailer to trade stories of our first day. Even managed to have a few good conversations amidst the cacophony of the Tavern-turned-dance-club. Teamed up with friends to assault the Porter with back scratches, temple rubbing, back and hand massages. Because he deserves it, after putting out First Day fires for 12 hours.

-I discovered how much fun it is to share my ice cream cone with friends. As each took their taste, I smooshed the cone onto their face for good measure. One Puppet Troupe girl licked the extra off the other Puppet Troupe girl's nose.

-Sunday's first show ended being a speed-through of "Goldilocks and the 2 Little Pigs". It took longer than expected, because the troupe and audience couldn't stop laughing at the ridiculous situations.

-We had an extra performer for the next fairy tale, so we performed, "Hansel & Gretel & Steve". Steve ate all the breadcrumbs Hansel dropped, so the other children let the witch roast him first as a diversion before shoving her in the oven.

-A shop worker called me in off the street to ask for a taste of my ice cream cone. He might have been just flirting, but I stepped into the shop and smooshed his share onto his face. His buddies crowded in the shop erupted with glee! "You earned that," I quipped, and smiled sweetly before taking my leave.