O rite, and the winners of my extraordinarily select Creativity Meme are:

musicboxwaltz
spirehouse
sabournine
kissokomes
caffeine_monkey
and lucky #6...
terra_firma

I bet you all feel supremely lucky. Might be you'll all get something boring, like a blinged out picture of my kat. Or maybe you'll get a piece of modern art made entirely out of sharpie cores and wig hair. Or maybe even something you actually LIKE. AND I BET YOU'RE ALL JUST DYING FROM THE SUSPENSE.

Anyway. I would like to extend a heartfelt thanks and a big, fabulous hug to my sewing machine Clementine. You, despite needing a tune-up and a srs deep clean, went from sewing through 8 combined layers of craft interfacing and knit fabric at the same time, to sewing through on layer of flimsy satin & gold lamé bias tape without a hitch. I love you.

I feel accomplished tonight. I finished K-fab's fabmittens (except the clasps), manties, skirt, and chestbelt! I also finished (read: glued a gem onto) Sailor Venus' tiara. And I also managed to snap the long creepy neck of my creepy wighead in half, so it is now held together with E6000, painter's tape, and a green ribbon (for prettiness, of course). It's also slightly purple with K-fabs fabulous, fabulous face etched on in bright blue sharpie & gold glitter glue. You don't get much more fabulous than K-fab.

I *still* haven't heard if my leave request, which I submitted on January 7, 2009, has been approved for the Thursday & Friday of Katsucon. That is just ridiculous. Too bad if they need me those days, because I'm going anyway, because really, they should've told me way before this if I can't go.

Oh. And yeah, those fuckers who live below me? Totally called the cops on them on Saturday. It was like, 1 AM. And their music/vidya game was shaking my floor, it was so loud. So I go downstairs, say the following:

"Look. I'm not an asshole, nor am I unreasonable. You're probably sick of me coming down here. I'm sick of coming down here. Just please turn your stuff down by 11:30 and I'll stop bugging you. Okay?"

And the dude, who is this fat, greasy, emo-glasses-and-emo-hair smelly nerd, gives me the nerd 'tude and says, "Yeah okay, WHATever.", slams the door in my FACE, and he and his stupid pothead roommate turn their shit UP. Yup, they turn it up. The fuckers. So I called the cops. It was so satisfying to hear the cops' Gestapo-like knock on their door, and the abrupt silence that followed their visit. Ahhh. And I'll do it again too if they piss me off again.

Ok, sleep time, because now that I'm not completely absorbed in my wonderful sewing machine, I am butt tired.

P.S. I need a new job. Someone hand one to me or something. XD