Auntie's Hideaway

Oh, boy, was yesterday a long day!!
( Lots of photos to follow, for soccer and Halloween, so clicky to see, and beware, oh users of Dial-Up! )

Every once in a while, the pathway between Auntie's brain and her mouth short-circuits, and gives her family fuel for entertainment for months, possibly years to come.

There was an open house at the Impossible Son's school this evening, and afterwards, we went to the grocery store to pick up a few things. It was on the way home from the grocery store that the discussion turned to Halloween and costumes. The Impossible Son asked me if I was going to dress up this year. "I dunno," I said tiredly, because I've got the Migraine of Doom. "What do you want me to go as?"

"I don't know," he said. "What do you want to go as?"

I wasn't in the mood to ride on that particular merry-go-round, so I sighed and said, "Maybe I'll just go as a hippie."

"No, I don't like that," he said and you could just hear the frown in his voice. "I don't want you to go as a hippy, Mom."

Great. "Okay, how 'bout I go as Molly Weasley?" I said. That shouldn't be too hard, right? I mean, she's a mom, I'm a mom, I just have to dress eccentrically and carry a wooden spoon and look harried. In other words, just... dress and look normal, and maybe a poofy red wig or something. And add a British accent.

"That would be AWESOME!!" said Mr. Impossible. "Do it! Do it! And Papa can be Mr. Weasley!"

I looked over at my husband and his tattoos and said, "Um, no, maybe he should be Charlie..."

"No!" said the Impossible Son. "I'm going to be Charlie Weasley!"

The Impertinent Daughter snorted at this, but didn't say anything.

"Okay," I said, willing to go along with this, and thinking about what pens I could use to draw "tattoos" on his arms. "You can carry your toy dragon under your arm to, and when you go up to people's porches, you can say, look! I'm handling my dragon!"

The moment that popped out of my mouth, I knew, instinctively, that I had Dropped A Brick. There was shocked silence in the van for about... oh... I'd say about maybe 9 nano-seconds that lasted approximately two thousand years... and then they all died laughing.

"MOM!!!" said my daughter, trying to sound outraged while nearly suffocating herself laughing. "I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU SAID THAT!!!"

"Wow, honey," said the Husbandly One, snorting and guffawing, "that's... wow! That's way beyond your usual!"

"What?" said the Impossible Son, lost for about ten seconds, and then, "OOOOOOHHHHHHHH!!! MOM!!! GEEZ!!! That's just... WRONG!!!"

See? Even with a migraine, I'm pretty damn entertaining... most especially when I don't mean to be!!

I'm sure my face will stop burning at some point. And I hope they will let me live it down sometime before I'm eighty!

*goes to hide*

Well, here they are! It was hard to get good photos, because they just would NOT hold still.
( Not dial-up friendly! )

Hit the Goodwill in San Marcos today to find things for the Impertinent Daughter's Halloween costume. The Impossible Son is all set to go as a Clone Trooper, complete with battered face mask (I couldn't talk him into letting me paint his face to look like the mask, even though Miss Priss told him I'm actually very good at it. He wasn't convinced) and a blaster that makes sounds.

The Impertinent Daughter couldn't decide at first. She either wanted to be Howl from Howl's Moving Castle or Gackt or a broken Gothy doll. She decided on the doll, finally. So, over the last two weekends, we've gotten a black crinoline for her, a long haired black wig, and white face make-up, since I couldn't convince her to just let me use an extremely pale base makeup for her. Oh well, she knows what she wants. I need to find dusting powder to keep the makeup from sliding off her face, but that will come later.

I haven't been to Goodwill in a long time, and it brought back pleasant memories of hitting the thrift stores in Houston with my best friend. Some of them were really cool, and you never knew what you were going to find in them. Others were very, very scary, and we alternately put on our "Don't Fuck With Me" faces, or became surgically attached and made a beeline for the door to escape. But it was always interesting and fun, and you never know what you're going to find in those stacks of clothing. Harbingers of the seventies, with lurid colors and mucho polyester, the bad kind? Or a really nice brown skirt which, when I opened it to look for a size, I discovered to be a Donna Karan? No, I didn't buy it (ducks when she hears the howls of protest) because... it wasn't my size, or the Impertinent Daughter's either. I found a jacket that MIGHT work, with black lace sleeves, and a white bodice, but when I tried it on her, it didn't fit in the right places, and when I turned it inside out to see if I could take it up, I discovered it had already been taken up, and in such a way that made it impossible for me to do it again! GRRRRR!!!

In the meantime, Miss Priss found a pleated, plaid skirt that had obviously been part of a school uniform at some point, and it was in excellent condition and better yet, her size. Then we found a jacket that worked perfectly with the skirt (YAY), and THEN, we found these short black ankle boots with a 2 inch heel that were PERFECT. Ut was great, and when we got home, so we could throw all the various elements together, I was stunned at how big my girl has gotten. Y'all, I've only got three inches on her, height-wise. She's five feet tall, and I'm five foot three.

*shriek*

And she's only 12!!!

I think I was like... four foot six when I was twelve! I was certainly short!

I have to say, the male half of the family was extremely patient with us as the female half shopped. Of course, Mr. Impossible found some toys for himself, a water rocket and a bag of little plastic farm animals that will probably find a way to stab me in the instep as I try to navigate the house at night, barefoot. THO found two shirts and a blue sweater that makes his eyes really POP (well, that was the way the Impertinent One put it!).

All in all, a successful shopping trip.

I can't wait until we put it all together. We'll do a dry run of the makeup to see how it goes, and I guess I'll be posting photos after Halloween! It should be interesting, that's for sure!

Title: My Prey, My Own
Author: auntbijou
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: OC/OC
Summary: Sometimes, the line between prey and predator can become very thin.
Warning: Male/Male, biting, blood play
Words: 2850
Disclaimer: None. These characters are entirely original to me, from my own sordid imagination. Please do not use without permission!
A/N: A treat for my f-listers, and dedicated to my dear Minxie. Hang in there, sweets, Auntie doesn’t know what she’d do without you!!







( J'aurais toujours faim de tois )

Happy Halloween!!!

 

 

And to my pagan f-listers, Good Samhain, and Happy New Year!

 

Merry meet, merry part, and merry meet again.

Finally, the cooler weather has arrived!! What we-uns like to call a "blue norther" blew in last night, though this one isn't really BLUE so much as maybe PALE blue. After all, the temp has only dipped into the middle fifties, but it's enough to get Auntie shivering.

I know there are some of you who would snort with amusement at Auntie, but when you consider that last night, when the Husbandly One and I went to attend the soccer board meeting, and we all decided it was so nice, we'd sit outside, it was 84 degrees F. at 6 pm. It got up to about 90 yesterday. So, 90 yesterday, 53 today... big dip. Of COURSE, we're shivering!!

Oh, excuse me, I lied. It's not 53. It's 50. MORE SHIVERING!!

Still, I'm glad to see it. I'd like to put the shorts and tank tops away now, please. Of course, being Texas, we can never really put them AWAY. You see, when summer gets here, we put the winter clothes completely away. Totally away. Packed in boxes, or whatever, they're gone until the next cold front blows through in October or November. But in winter? We can never, never put our summer clothes away. In Texas, you might be putting up Christmas decorations in thermal underwear, three sweaters, sweatpants, jeans, a heavy jacket, a hat, mittens, the whole shebang because it's 15 degrees outside... but you might be taking them down, two weeks later, in shorts, a tank top, and flip-flops, because the temperature is close to 90 again. It's not unusual for fruit trees to bloom during our warm spells, because they're confused. Heck, WE'RE confused.

We're getting a little rain, but not enough to remove the Extreme Fire Danger warning we're under, because it's also very, very windy, and it's expected to dry out by this afternoon. Personally, I was hoping for more rain, because the soccer fields have cracks big enough for me to fit my foot in, thanks to the fact we've had no rain since July. And here I thought the drought was gone. *grumbles*

In any case, now it feels more like fall, and I feel more like working on Halloween costumes for the kids now. Miss Priss wants to be Jesse from Pokemon's Team Rocket *rolls eyes*. Or Howl from "Howl's Moving Castle." Mr. Manzie wants to be a black ninja, Naruto, a werewolf, Ash from Pokemon, or Danny Phantom. Depending on the particular time of day it is, and who he's just talked to. Personally, I'd like to see Mr. Manzie and the Husbandly One both be werewolves. It would be SO COOL!!! They could both wander from door to door, slavering and drooling and being all werewolf-like... *glee*

Am I enjoying the idea a bit too much? *laughs*

The kids alternately try to talk me into being Professor Umbridge (so I can hand out detention slips with candy taped to them), or some nurse character from Pokemon who scares me to death, quite frankly. I personally think I should dress as something truly terrifying... like a 1950's housewife, completely with apron and martini. And LOTS of lipstick! Or maybe I should wear my chemise, buy a black long haired wig, put on pasty face make-up, and be that girl from "The Ring."

Hmmmm... no, not too child friendly, is it? Though it might scare the teens...

Or I could just do Goth Mom. I have enough black clothes... though black eyeliner and mascara do horrible things to my complexion, and make me look like I'm dying of some rare terminal disease... but... I guess that's the point, right?

Well, whatever I do, I'll be the one sitting on the porch, handing out candy... hmmm... maybe... maybe I'll dress up as a scarecrow, or a dummy, and just sit there, limp as if I AM a dummy, with the bowl of candy sitting there invitingly next to me, maybe even a little sign saying, "Help yourself!" And then, when they reach into the bowl to take the candy... I'll grab their wrists and growl, "Whaddaya think yer doin'?"

Yes... I am... I AM evil!!

Muaa-hahahahahahahahahahaha!!!