Posts Tagged ‘EdelStore’

After my shift at Giovanni’s ended, I picked up Piper from my neighbor’s apartment and went home.  I wasn’t quite sure what I was going to do that evening.  I nestled Piper on the couch in her Boppy pillow- she’s a bottle baby, but she loves using the nursing pillow as a miniature lounge seat- and flipped on some cartoons because the bright primary colors seem to soothe her.  As I sat next to her and sorted out my apron contents, I rediscovered the card with Cao Richard’s private number.  ‘Sooner rather than later,’ she had said.  I think I sat and stared at the card for fifteen  minutes or so.  Long enough anyhow for the cartoon I wasn’t watching to be replaced by a puppet show I still wasn’t watching.

I entered the digits into my cell, and stared at them a little bit longer.  Taking a deep breath, I pressed ‘send.’  And immediately thought, oh, shit, oh, shit.  I should have figured out what I’m going to say so I don’t sound like a stammering, dithering idiot if I have to leave a voice mail.  I should hang up now before it goes to voice-

My plus-one and I Dress: Cherie by Augusta Creations

Dress: Cherie by Augusta Creations
Jewelry: necklace by JStyle; rings/bangles by Loka Designs

“Oh, goodie, Emily, I’m so glad you called.”  Ms. Richard’s voice was warm and welcoming as she answered on the second ring.

“You did say ‘sooner rather than later’.” I replied.  “Can’t get much sooner than now.”  Inwardly I cringed at the banality of that particular conversational gambit.

“And in fact your timing is excellent, although I need to be brief because I still have three more calls to make.  So here are the important points: I interviewed a dozen candidates for the research assistant job.  My ideal candidate for the research portion of the job would be mentally flexible, good at multitasking, be willing to work in a team setting, and show initiative in anticipating Carlton and I’s needs.  For the gallery portion of the job, my ideal candidate would be pretty enough to distract potential buyers, good at soothing tempers or stroking egos when needed, and service customers based on long-term satisfaction rather then short term interests.”

I interrupted with a snort, “So far, you’re describing any half-way decent waitress.”

Hair: 'Saskia' in Black from EdelStore Flower: 'Gardenia Flower 1.2' (source unknown)

Hair: ‘Saskia’ in Black from EdelStore
Flower: ‘Gardenia Flower 1.2’ (source unknown)

“Exactly,” purred Cao.  “Which is why you were my first choice for the position.  Carlton favored Conner, however, because Conner has already developed contacts and associates within the social circles where we buy and sell.  Carlton thinks that networking is the most important trait in a candidate, because it both indicates existing aptitude for the job and serves as a multiplier, allowing them to leverage the talent they have more effectively.”

“I’m not plugged into anyone’s network. So why..”

Cao cleared her throat, interrupting my interruption. “I already know better than that, Emily.  Conner told us about your family and Elyssa told us some more.  In addition, Conner is keeping his other job, some kind of security consulting thing, so he negotiated to be on straight commission- not even a draw- rather than hourly.  Which means Carlton is open to paying someone else the hourly wages that would have been Conner’s if he is sufficiently impressed.  Carlton leaves tomorrow afternoon to try to purchase some bones that were recently dug up near Cairo, and I’ve been ordered to arrange interviews with you and two other candidates when he returns. You’re still my first choice, however, so I’m trying to stack the deck a little bit.  If I connect you with Carlton tonight, and schedule the others when he gets back, I’m hoping he’ll make you an immediate offer rather than wait.  Do you have any plans you can’t break tonight?”

Shape: Gigi Teen from Kids5B Skin: Lany by WoW Skins Jewelry: necklace from JStyle; rings/bangles from Loka Designs

Shape: Gigi Teen from Kids5B
Skin: Lany by WoW Skins

“No plans, but also no sitter.  How will Carlton react if I bring my plus-one with me to an interview?”

…Still to be continued…

…Info about tagged vendors is in my closet

Goddess of Fertility

Posted: September 25, 2014 in Uncategorized
Tags: , , ,

At the thought of being a fertility goddess, I couldn’t decide which warning would make the better subtitle: “Be afraid; be very afraid.” or “Be aroused; be very aroused.”  Like many of my more whimsical thoughts, this thought almost even makes sense once you see the straws my fevered brain has been spinning into bricks.

A tropical paradise...

A tropical paradise…

The bits and pieces of my style card actually correspond fairly well to the pits and pieces of straw…

  • Shape: Nina, Month 7, by Baby Bumps.  Around month three or four, I decided I would carry on a sympathetic pregnancy as a way of announcing my support and excitement for Firsty and Mrs. Firsty and their impending bundle of diaper stink, I mean, joy.  I’m not really sure why this seemed like a good idea at the time- Mrs. Firsty isn’t going to know, since we don’t frequent the same circles, and if she did know, she would probably be jealous rather than appreciative.  My pregnancy has been much easier to carry than hers.  I’ve had no swelling, pains, or nausea.  Although I share her complaint that pregnancy is causing my clothes to not fit (nothing mesh has enough stretch for a woman who’s in her third trimester, dammit!), unlike Mrs. Firsty, I have- and have abused- the ability to turn my pregnancy off for an evening so I can wear something pretty or sexy.  And her ultimate resentment of me is that she doesn’t how to react to my relationship with Firsty.  She is and always will be number one in his heart, but in a sense I am the ‘other woman’ with whom he shares his deepest secrets and fears, which makes it hard for her to dismiss me as the shallow, casual relationship he claims I am.
    Crossing my arms and waiting (Im)patiently….

    Crossing my arms and waiting (Im)patiently….

     

  • Outfit: MIA from Edika creations.  As I mentioned above, I’m finally too pregnant to fit this shape into any of the mesh styles that are all the rage these days.  Slightly older styles, however, made of layers and prims, often have the stretch and give to work with a pregnant shape.  So I went searching through my closet for some old school outfits, and found this dress and hat made of tropical flowers.  It was a May group gift, so it is very spring and flower-ful and jungle.  In my mind, as I wear this dress I can smell the faintest hint of orchids and rich, earthy loam. So fertile belly, orchids and loam… is it any wonder I’m thinking about nature goddesses and fertility?

    I just want to soak up the sun...

    I just want to soak up the sun…

  • Shoes: Classic Thigh Boots from P3.  Again this straw proceeds logically from the preceding straw.  The skirt for the Mia dress drapes to the ground, but is very short in front, so it’s important to put something on my legs and feet that makes a bold statement.  I could have gone with some sexy heels.  I could have broke out a pair of frequently worn ‘me’-boots, either my favorite Red Leather kicks or second favorite Colorado boots.  But I decided to go with the thigh high stripper boots because they fit a different sort of ‘goddess’- a title frequently claimed by dominatrixes or mistresses.  And they show up well, and are an extremely bold statement.

    Careful!  I don't think these boots take water well...

    Careful! I don’t think these boots take water well…

  • Skin: Lou, chocolate skin by Tuty’s.
  • Hair: Saskia in black, free gift from Edelstore.  On the subject of coloration, this hair and skin just seemed the right choice.  Given the tropical nature of the outfit, I didn’t want the pale, nordic colorations I tend to gravitate to as a default.  I also wanted my hair to be full enough to look healthy and rich, but not so long it had issues with the head piece.  A little experimentation and these seemed the way to go.
  • Accessories: Dark Pink Manicure, white bangle bracelet (*JStyle); Pink Blush Face Makeup (LC’s world of fashion); nose ring, belly piercing (source unknown).  In general, accessorizing an outfit is the last thing I do.  To my mind, accessorizing is adding the last little bits of flourish to make sure that I don’t look like anyone else who is wearing the same outfit.  Because it is so stereo-typical of the way guys view fashion, (well, stereotypical straight guys anyway), I’m sure at least one reader out there is saying, “Really?  How many pregnant black women are out there wearing the Mia dress from late spring with thigh high stripper boots, that you need to make sure you are unique among them?”  Probably none, but that view misses part of the point.

    Let's bungle in the jungle; well, that's all right by me...

    Let’s bungle in the jungle; well, that’s all right by me…

A long time ago, I realized that all other things being equal, most people, given a choice, will choose to be conventional.  After all, most conventions arose because they gave some sort of slight advantage in the proper situation.  And humanity is a social animal, like wolves or cattle, and conventions and customs are how we mark ourselves as part of a given pack or herd.  Some people put such a value on convention that they will be conventional even if there are real advantages in that particular situation to being unconventional.  And then there’s me.  In general, I’m a loner, living more inside my own head than in the outside world.  Thanks to my ADD, my mind works on different tracks than those of most people around me.  Because ADD includes ‘poor impulse control’ as one of its hallmark symptoms, even when I try to fit in with the pack, I blurt out the different drum beat to which I’m actually marching.  Growing up, my dad always counseled me to trust my instincts, to distrust the herd mentality, to be confident that I was generally the smartest girl in the room, and to take pride in my individuality.  Even on those occasions when I’ve felt like an outsider or outcast, I always framed the question as “why doesn’t anyone else see my value?”, not “how do I become an insider or acceptable?”  As a result, I’m deeply committed to being me and to waving my uniqueness as a banner.  When there is a demonstrable value to following convention, I do, but otherwise, when all things are equal or nearly so, I will always opt for the road less traveled.

When I was nine, I lived two blocks away from one of the elementary schools in the district, and by some random chance, I was actually assigned to go to that elementary rather than be bussed across town in the name of demographics.  There was one obvious conventional route to take: follow the sidewalk on Hawthorne down to the intersection of Hawthorne and Wright, cross Hawthorne at the light, and walk a block and a half down Wright, crossing one other street along the way.  If you took the long way around the first or second block, there were a couple of other routes, but they were obviously less direct.  Midway through the third quarter of the school year, I cheerfully asked my father, “Do you know there are over thirty ways to and from school?”  There were, but only because I counted each different yard or alley I could possibly cut through as a different route and I had made a point of trying them all to count the number of routes.  Little details, like where the sidewalks were, had nothing to do with what possible routes were available.  As an adult, I hide it better, but I still take all the possible routes from A to B.  Accessories are the little flourishes in how an outfit gets to where its going, the chance to make it truly mine.

I love bangly bracelets, dangly earrings, and collar style necklaces.  I like piercings, and I’ve come to love tattoos, as long as I can take them on and off.  My mind is too mutable and fickle to get a truly permanent tattoo; no matter how cool a tattoo seems today, I know there is a real chance I’ll have a different opinion a few months down the line.  Generally I lean towards over-doing my accessories, making an outfit ‘busy’ with extras.  The Mia dress, however, is fantastically busy on its own, however, so I had to mute things to a bare minimum: some nail and face make up, two small piercings, and a single bracelet.

And that, my dear readers, is how the straws of my ideas were spun into the gold of my style.  Since I’m feeling like a goddess, I am going to leave you with a benediction.  May your ideas be equally entertaining and your styles equally golden, and may you all make your worlds brighter, more beautiful places…

I have absolutely no idea why I'm posing with a gigantic rabbit today...

I have absolutely no idea why I’m posing with a gigantic rabbit today…

A recent WordPress Daily Prompt asked Discussion Ending Lines: “We’ve all had exchanges where we came up with the perfect reply — ten minutes too late. Write down one of those, but this time, make sure to sign off with your grand slam (unused) zinger.”

I thought and thought, and I couldn’t come up with a single example of an unused zinger.  Because I have ADD, I’m very unlikely to discover the perfect comeback ten minutes after the conversation ends.  Ten minutes is like forever in attention span years; by ten minutes after the conversation it’s a fifty-fifty coin toss on if I still remember what you told me, never mind going back to try to edit my half of the script.  (I’m exaggerating, but by less than I wish.  One of my high school history teachers loathed me by year’s end because I would cheerfully and sincerely commit do whatever- finish that late research paper, participate in the Academic quiz team she coached, ask my dad if she could borrow things from his WWII collection to use in lecture, whatever- and then, just as cheerfully and sincerely, forget about it.  It was clear I loved history and had an interest and knew what I was expected to know; it was high school so it was back years before I learned that I’m an ADD-kid, so neither of us ever considered ADD as a relevant factor.  Mrs. B. just concluded that I was an insincere bitch, blowing her off because I didn’t give a fuck.  Needless to say, we aren’t close.)

…or with a flock of flamingos...

…or with a flock of flamingos…

In addition, like most folks with ADD, I suffer from poor impulse control.  That’s often a problem- I have trouble staying on task when I have a time limit, I’m snappish when something irritates or interrupts me.  It is also sometimes a blessing: I’m generous and quick to help others because I’m just as unlikely to stop and think about whether to act on my ‘good’ impulses as my ‘bad’ impulses.  It does mean that if I do think of a zinger, I generally use it before I stop and think through whether I actually should say it or not.  Remember, I work as a server/bartender full time.  I take part in literally dozens if not hundreds of conversation every day.  My sense of humor is dry and extremely snarky.  And the little filter inside my head, the one that determines whether or not I should say something, doesn’t work.  My coworkers and managers all agree that they never know what I will say next.  (Coworkers find that endearing.  Managers cringe.  I enjoy myself.  It’s all good.)

Thus, this is a conversation that really happened at work.  It was a hot muggy Monday.  I was bar tending, but we were short-handed so I also had picked up tables so that I was running just as many tables as any of the servers, plus a table on the patio, and I was still also making everyone’s drinks.  I was dripping sweat and I felt sticky and gross and disgusting.  As it got dark, things finally started to slow down, and I was given one last three-top.  As I greeted the table, directly under one of the restaurants A.C. vents, the mother asked me, “Don’t you think it’s kind of chilly in here?”

…Peacocks and fireflies?...

…Peacocks and fireflies?…

Normally I would offer some polite excuse about the fact that our heating and cooling system is fairly inconsistent (true) or tell them I would have a manager adjust the thermostat (false, but they will go over and pretend to adjust it so that customers can fool themselves and create a warming or cooling effect that is all in their mind.)  Instead, I just paused, very deliberately wiped my forehead with my fore and middle fingers, looked down at the sweat glistening on my fingers, and replied, “No.  No I don’t.”

And one more conversation stopper from work.  Mid-summer, I had the joy one Saturday of waiting on a party of about two dozen that came from some teen sports competition.  All the boys on the team were clustered in the middle of the long table.  All the mothers were sitting together and drinking wine at one end of table.  All the fathers were sitting together and drinking craft beers at the other end of the table.  I was supposed to keep the checks separate by family unit, no one wanted to sit with their family, and everyone kept moving around.  The men kept buying drinks for each other, so it was even more complicated to keep straight which drinks went with which check.  We had recently hired a couple new cooks, so the kitchen was not running with its usual smoothness, even though it managed to avoid a true crash-and-burn meltdown.  The only way I could have been more stressed would be if someone grabbed my ass.  Somehow, I made it through their meal, and even mostly managed to stay smiling.  I’ve waited tables long enough, I know to play certain probabilities.  I had the checks separated and went to hand them out at the husband end of the table.  One of the wives lifts her hand, snaps her fingers at me (I shit you not.  She did just beckon or call ‘yoo-hoo’, she actually snapped her fingers at me!) and peremptorily orders, “Miss, give me the check!”

“Of course,” I reply, and I even managed to smile graciously.  Well, possibly grimace graciously, but I definitely bared my teeth and tried to think happy thoughts.

Before I can even let go of the tip tray with the check on it, Mrs. Finger-snap turns her head, snaps her fingers again, and calls “Roger, give me your wallet!”

… Yet another random rabbit… They're multiplying, I tell you!

… Yet another random rabbit… They’re multiplying, I tell you!

Again, I just heard the words line up and march out of my mouth before I could even think about turning on the little filter.  “Oh, I see you have a traditional marriage.  Your husband makes all the money and you make all the decisions…”  Mrs. Finger-snap was not amused, and I could actually see her puff up and get ready to explode.  Fortunately for me, the rest of her table busted out laughing, including her husband and son, so I also got to see her deflate again and give a smile just as sickly as the one I had just used.  That’s the nice thing about snarky humor.  I can say almost anything, and as along as I don’t actually swear and I sound cheerful, I usually do get away with it.

Well, of course there is one other final word that is necessary to end this conversation, and that is the style card for this post:

  • Shape: Standard Sizing Small (Because it’s often easier to fit the shape to the Mesh than the Mesh to the shape…)
  • Skin: Laura in Milk from WoW Skins
  • Hair: Moskau in Dark Brown, a free gift from EdelStore
  • Outfit: Leather and Lace, a sheer blouse with prim sleeves and collars and a matching mesh mini skirt from Rotten Defiance
  • Shoes: Executive heels and stockings, out of the Executive Designer Suit set from ChiChi of London.
  • Other Accessories: Punk Pumpkin Glasses from Old Dirty Bastard, Ruby ring out of the Eve fatback from MIA, leg tattoo from GrungeInk.

My scenery and posing critters were all near the new Holy Shi®t! store.  Take this taxi if you want to take some pictures…