Shining Heart

Ya'll. this was too redonk not to share

( in which social media sites became humanized )

And if you actually read that, I AM PICTURING THESE GUYS SO HARD AND I CANNOT GET THEM OUT OF MY HEAD AND I HATE THAT I'M NOT A BETTER ARTIST BECAUSE, YOU GUYS THEY NEED TO BE DRAWN.

So hey guys! Here in Louisiana, aka the boot, we're getting "wintery mix" which basically means a lot of slush and wet and cold. This state is not equipped to handle these kind of shenanigans. Work refuses to shut down, I'm local so of course I made it but a lot of my co-workers live up to an hour away from here. They called in.

It hasn't been too bad yet, despite working on a skeleton crew and having NO WHERE TO EAT DINNER BECAUSE THEY CLOSED THE ASSOCIATE DINING ROOM, I HATE YOU GUYS TOO. The internet is working, which is a plus so I'll probably be skulking about lj most of the evening. Please talk to me?

I'm going to open this post with a bit of a preamble, so bear with me.

I judge people based on footwear. I can't help it, but I think your choice in shoes (or lack of) says a lot about you. Take, for instance, one trip to the zoo in which I saw a woman wearing five inch stilletos. We're not talking a small zoo, this was like, the Baton Rouge zoo which is a fairly good sized place. What her footwear said to me was: I care more about looking pretty than having feeling in my toes.

Now then, on to the actual matter at hand. Imagine my significant confusion when I witnessed a pair of shoes today that couldn't decide between being slippers, sneakers, or boots.

"Now wait a minute" You might be saying, "I can see a pair of shoes confused for two things, but three?"

yes, dear reader. Slippers, sneakers, or boots. They came just above the lady in question's ankles, flaired a bit at the opening but were made out of a distinctly slipper like material in the ever fashionable grey and the actual foot of the beast looked like a sneaker. Studded with a menagerie of shiny silver baubles, of course.

This particular fashion choice was noticed near the Coushatta gift-shop, in which all I wanted to do was bug the gift shop workers for a few minutes but alas, this was not to be. I was quiered by a worker whether or not the rooms had wi-fi and was then given a finger point to the guest who was posing the question.

It was scary shoe lady, and I realized the shoes were the least of her offenses to the fashion industry.

Her hair was poofed so far away from her actual head I worried about her walking near anyone holding a cigarette. (actually, I lie. My initial thought was "holy hell, where's a lighter when you need it/oh my god, THAT'S where the hole in the ozone layer came from. I am truly a terrible person) but I was immediately distracted from the travesty of a hair style by her eyes.

Not that I actually noticed what color they were or anything. No, I was distracted by the hot pink glitter eyeshadow. And folks, I use the term glitter lightly. Edward Cullen glitters, this woman looked like she took a bedazzle machine to her eyelids.

And what? she was asking me a question? I'm supposed to think when I'm staring at something that could probably blind small children if it so chose to walk out in the daylight hours?

I won't lie, this was not one of my finer moments. My brain tends to shut down a little when presented with shiny things. You know how that little green light on a computer blinks rapidly when it's processing things? Yea. I blink rapidly when trying to process things like WHY IS THIS CREATURE SPEAKING TO ME?

Eventually I managed to stutter out a somewhat lackluster answer ("how do I log onto the wi-fi?" she asked. "M-make sure your computer's turned on?" I replied) before scurrying back to my den of darkness and sharing my discovery with my cohorts.

Our wireless router is bjorked.

What does this mean?

It means, once again, no AIM for me, no PANDORA radio, no accessing any of my friggen reference sites for my NaNo project and for the most part, no LJ because I HATE my family's desktop and this is the NOISEST DAMN KEYBOARD IN THE ENTIRE UNIVERSE!!

Going to, hopefully, buy a new one this weekend and if that doesn't fix the problem I will throw technology like items against the wall.

Every year, they put on a Tribal Banquet and they try to theme it. Last year was very half-assed Marie Antoniette era. This year? This year they did Wonderland and it's fan-fucking-tastic.

My friend took a ton of photos with her phone and I jacked them from her. I'm really exciting/amazed at how much they did. There are a few things that didn't get pictured, like the FOUR FOOT WHITE RABBIT ICE SCULPTURE!!!

( cut for picspam )

I don't think we got any pictures of the "rose garden" which is amazing and done in shades of red and has, obviously, roses everywhere. But all in all, everything is absolutely beautiful and I hope people at least make an attempt and dress up for this =/

Godzilla is ded. There were many cuddles/ catnip bubbles to be enjoyed.

In other news, last night at work I was trying to change the water for our water cooler out, because I am literally the youngest employee back there, everyone else is in their upper fifties and that water is HEAVY. and it slipped ;_; I caught it with my thumb and my thigh.

The thigh hurt momentarily but it's not bruised. Yay!

The thumb, on the other hand... I'm not sure what I did but OMG it hurts and I woke myself up in mild pain.

Going to go take some aspirin and hope the water doesn't need changed again today. Because I will try to help them because I'm afraid the little old ladies will break.


P.S. AAAAARGH!! THREE DAYS OF THUNDERSTORMS I HATE THE SUMMER SO MUCH!! (our chihuahua and our mastiff are both afraid of storms and so I have one in my lap and one sitting next to my bed trying to get in my lap but nuuuuh she weighs moar than me.)

When I was eleven, just starting out with drawing and what-not, my father pulled me into the spare room and shared with me two thin books.

They were art books of one, Mr. Frank Frazetta and my father had been holding onto them since he was about eighteen.

This was my first real art book, this was my first real artist, honestly. And I was helpless to do anything beyond fall instantly in love with his style. It wasn't just his art that I loved, I loved his idea of what made things beautiful. The women of Frazetta were not delicate wisps, but curvy and full figured. And yes, while many of them were found clinging to some rippling pectoral or another, a great deal of them were solitary, gazing out of the painting with a look of pure superiority. Like they knew they were gorgeous. It may sound silly, but that really empowered me growing up.

Frank Frazetta is an icon in the art world, his paintings have been used in everything from book covers to album covers, he's been part of countless projects. The man was unstoppable in life, this (NOT SAFE FOR WORK, PLEASE NOTE) was painted with a set of Mickey Mouse watercolors. He was passionate, peerless, and now he will remain immortal.

He was a childhood icon for me, someone who I was able to bond with my father over, someone who spurred me to be better without realizing it.

Frank Frazetta, the world is a shade paler without you in it.