I know it's been a slow year on this blog, so for those of you who have stuck around, let me first thank you. Whether you're old or new here, welcome (welcome back) and Happy New Year to all!
Honestly, it's been hard to write more than rants on Facebook walls or quick blurbs on Twitter. My heart has been really heavy. There have been times where I have just been at my breaking point. I'm fearful of the world we are leaving our children. I truly am. And though I've kept on a brave face for my girls and even still found time to find some levity in the world [moment of silence for Joe Manganiello's singlehood] and have kept myself busy with craft project after craft project, whenever there was silence I couldn't fill, one thought always came back: we are fucked.
So I could just keep being afraid of the silence, or I could do something.
Pop Culture Dad is from St. Louis. [Yeah, I know]. Between the events in Ferguson and some other things, the likelihood of us making it to our annual Christmas trip this year was low like a girl in a Flo Rida song. But... it's family, you know? And we only get to see them twice a year. But PCD and I decided that if we were going to go into the belly of the best, some good was going to have to come of it.
I had been following the action on Twitter and Facebook since the very beginning, but realized as Christmas was approaching that I didn't actually know where to find information on how to get involved. I asked around and got several references for groups looking for lawyers to help out. I got in touch with those groups, and they all said they would get back to me... Then we got to St. Louis and... I just waited. No calls. I called again. I was told they would get back to me. My plan to be part of a solution was being thwarted. And, quite honestly, I felt a little depressed about it. In my head, our entire week in St. Louis was going to be filled with one rally or jail visit after another with us shouting to the family, "Come along or we'll just have to catch you later!" In reality, it was basically like any other trip to the city: family, food, movie, Magic House. Then finally the morning before we went home to Texas, my phone rang with a text alert:
TODAY (SATURDAY), 2PM: STL's United We Stand Silent March. Meet at Union Station downtown (18th and Market).
Finally! I informed Pop Culture Dad that, despite all the things we needed to do that day and all the promises we made to family, we were going. He was totally game, but we were also unprepared. On the way there, we ran into Michaels and grabbed posters and markers. The Pop Culture Girls decided they wanted to do their own posters. They did not, however, know how to spell "Black Lives Matter" on their own. So I wrote it out for them and told them they could follow it. Little Diva (being six and all) did a pretty great job. Super Girl got all of the letters, buuuuut, well, they weren't exactly in any particular order. So she allowed me to make her a new sign, and she decorated it.
Super Girl and Pop Culture Dad
Little Diva made her own sign ("MY LIFE MATTERS"). Mommy probably should have told her yellow on pink doesn't really show from far away.
This is the adorable sweatshirt hiding under those huge coats. It was far too cold to show them off.
Despite our rushing, we made it to the meeting place in time and ready to go. It was cold (particularly for us Southern folk), and it was rainy. However, this group of a little over 100 people was not deterred. We walked arm-in-arm, silently (except for the children...), with our mouths covered with the names of a victim or victims of police and para-police violence, down Market Street toward the St. Louis Arch. As you can see in my pictures, this isn't just a group of black people. This is truly St. Louis UNITED. There were people of various races and ethnicities. The ages ranged from 0 to somewhere in the septuagenarian range. There were people of various physicalities and physical disabilities.
You notice how that microphone says "5" (as in "News 5")? The same reporter during those interviews later stated during the 5 p.m. Channel 5 newscast that he could not confirm that there were protesters in the area. Apparently the fact that he was with us from beginning to end was not enough to confirm our presence. See, people? This is why you need to have a healthy skepticism and distrust of mainstream media.
Now here's where trolls on Twitter and people within the Arch who have unrecognized and unresolved race bias issues differ from what people outside the Arch will tell you. Trolls on Twitter who were never there have been arguing that the group was violent, raging, and vandalized the Arch (seriously). Anyone with half a brain knows that isn't true. In fact, you can witness it for yourself. I videoed various parts of the protest, and if you look on Twitter for #STLunited, you will see several people who live-blogged or later videostreamed parts of the protest. In addition to what you can see for yourself, here's what I can tell you: three of the protesters actually went inside the Arch to use the restroom. Once inside, security had noticed there were protesters, and those women were locked inside. When you hear us chanting "Open the gates!" it started because people were asking for security to let those women out. By the way, the Arch is a free, federal landmark open to the public. Can they restrict entry and exit for security concerns? Of course. Is prohibiting a group from exercising their First Amendment rights in a nonviolent manner in a way that doesn't otherwise violate laws something that can be done at a federal landmark? Honestly, I don't know [I haven't done the research on that yet]. It's a non-issue anyway. Because I think there is reasonable disagreement as to whether there would have been a security risk (probably something as little as a fire hazard) from allowing a marching, chanting group of 100+ people inside. I'm not saying I agree that there was a risk; I just agree that I see both arguments, and so we don't even really get to the First Amendment issue.
What I can tell you, however, is that this protest was most certainly non-violent. As I mentioned, this was a varied group, which included a lot of families. We had a woman in a wheelchair, a man on crutches, etc. This group marched in total silence [again, minus the children, who don't really get that whole "silent" part of the silent protest] for nearly two hours before we reached the Arch. Yes, there were guys in Anonymous masks. And, honestly, the most annoying thing they did the entire time was smoke in close proximity to children and senior citizens. There was only one person in this entire group who raised my antennae, and I was side-eyeing and closely watching that guy the entire time. And, yes, this guy was the one who, after chants I wasn't too uncomfortable having my children hear, decided to lead a much smaller group in a round of "Fuck the Police." That's one guy, out of over 100. There's always one. And that one person is not the group. He was not representative of the group at all. In fact, he didn't even march in close proximity to the rest of us (and I have the picture to prove that too). [ETA: I suppose I should clarify, I case I get another troll like the one who thought I would publish his comment (WRONG) that we left the area as soon as that started and that several people told that person and his small group that it wasn't the time or place for that]
The police, who kept a safe distance from the group (because no crimes were broken, HELLO) stay close to the guy I was side-eyeing.
The Arch was not vandalized. We created a "memorial" using the pieces of colored tape that had previously been on our mouths. Easily removable. Does not destroy property. It is no different from when people leave signs, flowers, and other memorabilia on public property. Anyone who calls that vandalism is a moron (and probably also an overreaching racist, but I digress...). As I mentioned on the Pop Culture Mom Facebook page, I'm a government attorney. Do you really think I would participate in or encourage any sort of activity that would violate federal law? Of course not. Any suggestion otherwise is preposterous.
tape bearing the names of victims of police violence
Correction of some of the falsities I've heard aside, this was a beautiful moment. I actually cannot find adequate words to express how moved I was by the entire experience. Seeing all of these different people come together was amazing. People who didn't even know each other and hadn't even learned each other's names, were linking their arms and hands to stand united. People were helping each other (picking up the wheelchair together, offering food, holding things to allow someone to tend to children, checking on the children and talking to them, etc.). This total group of mostly strangers came together for one common reason—wanting to make sure that law enforcement and the general citizenry realize that black lives matter too—and it was amazing.
Super Girl has the best seat in the house
Arms linked marching toward the Arch
Strangers united for a common good
Even more than the experience itself, I was so glad to have shared it with the Pop Culture Girls. Due to all of the craziness going on and the unavoidable conversations in our house that Little Diva is entirely too smart (and too nosey) to miss. I had to have "the talk" with her earlier than anticipated. We had the talk over Thanksgiving. More on that later. But suffice to say, even at six, she understands the gross unfairness in treating people differently because of their skin color, and she can't believe that there are adults who think it is perfectly fine to support a broken system that systematically treats "the other" unfairly. So, despite the fact that she was not exactly down for all that walking (and none of us were down for the cold and the hail), Little Diva was glad she did the protest. One of the gentlemen who had been gathering everyone together when we initially arrived asked Little Diva at the end what she thought of everything, and she answered "Pretty good. Pretty good for my first protest."
"Pretty good for my first protest."
I'm proud of my kids for sticking with the elements and trudging along. I'm proud of my oldest daughter for understanding these issues that are so much bigger than anyone should have to understand at six years old [and, sadly, it turns out she "gets it" a lot better than many adults I've seen online]. I'm proud of my husband (and his entire family, amazingly) for recognizing and trying to fight against his white privilege to make a better world for, not just our children, but every child in this country. I'm proud of everyone who was there.
Every time I get overwhelmed with despair, I look at the pictures from this march and I realize that there are people out there fighting to make a difference. I'm not sure if their work will change everything, but they're bound to change some minds. Every little bit counts!
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Is anyone else as excited about the new Annie movie as I am we are? The Pop Culture Fam won't be able to see the movie on opening night, but we are going to see it Christmas week.
To get ready, I made the Pop Culture Girls dresses inspired by both the traditional Annie dress and the new one!
Old Annie in the front
New Annie in the back
For the pattern, I used look C on New Look A6335. I used sateen polyester fabric ("new Annie" shine) with the red and white combination of the traditional Annie dress. Instead of the recommended leather belt, I made a ribbon sash out of same white sateen. To reflect the new Annie dress style, I made a large bow out of the same sateen material [if you look closely, you can see that the inside of the bow is white—a "traditional Annie" throwback], but put it on the back instead of the front.
Construction wise, the dress is pretty awesome. My favorite thing about this pattern is that it is fully lined (not something you often see with girls' casual dress patterns!) and has netting to give the A-line skirt that adorable poof. The pattern includes sleeveless options, too.
The girls are excited about their Annie dresses, and I can't wait for them to wear them to the movie!
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It took three and a half million minutes last night for the DA to slip in the words "no bill" somewhere. I'm still not even 100% sure where. He bullshit through a plethora of explanations of why this is a purely rational result, even though a no bill, particularly where there is so much conflicting evidence, happens less than .001% of the time. The State backtracked into the decision it wanted all along. And they forced us to eat it. I, as a black woman in this country with brothers and cousins and friends and sons of friends—all of whom were just given proof that their lives don't matter—am just depressed and scared. And angry. I'm so very angry about how this was conducted.
The State called a state of emergency two weeks prior, loaded up the army gear, and then announced at 2 pm they weren't giving the results until 9 pm. They WANTED riots. They wanted to be able to say, "See? Black people are just animals who cannot be reasoned with. We gave them 45 minutes of explanation."
And all the while they will ignore that the city basically poked and prodded to get this result. They will ignore people's frustrations, because the very reasons McCullough gave for the no bill (all that conflicting evidence) is the same reason MOST grand juries decide there needs to be a trial. They will ignore the fact that in a town that is more than 60% black, this grand jury was somehow magically 75% white and that the number of white people on the grand jury just happened to be the same number you needed to get a no bill. They will ignore the fact that the grand jury listened to Darren Wilson for hours (an unprecedented move) including his testimony that "it [Mike Brown] looked like the devil"—you read that correctly, "it." They will ignore the fact that the looters are Not. In. Any. Way associated with the protesters and that the protestors have been holding classes and seminars and handing out flyers for weeks on how to peacefully assemble.
But, most importantly, they will ignore the fact that this is so much bigger than Michael Brown. This is about the pain and anger we feel that time and time again, black people—black men especially—are being hunted down like dogs because we merely look scary to white people who can't process their own internal prejudices and white privilege and refuse to (because they assert it's our fault for "making everything about race"). This is about the fact that every black mother around this country is holding her son so very tight right now, knowing that even her five- or six-year old could be shot at any moment, with no repercussions for his killer. Because, you know, a water gun in the hand of a black kid "could be real," but a water gun in the hand of a white kid is so obviously fake, because kids (white kids) wouldn't dare shoot anyone.
And meanwhile, I have to deal with white people, even some in my own family, telling me that I need to be more empathetic to how they feel, because they live in St. Louis and might have to keep their kids home… on Thanksgiving week, when the schools were closed anyway. Gee, sorry if I can't process sadness over your few days on inconvenience when my entire life as a black woman in this country with black men in my life I love dearly, is one big goddamn inconvenience. No feels given.
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These days, everyone is trying to capitalize on Disney's Frozen. I mean, I get it. It is the highest grossing animated film of all time. It has been nearly a year, and Frozen mania is still going strong. But at what point does capitalization become just fraud?
Recently, Campbell's put out a "Target exclusive" Frozen-themed chicken noodle soup to join Campbell's line of other Disney/Pixar-themed soups. Personally, I think the shaped noodles taste like crap, even by overly-processed-and-likely-to-kill-you-slowly food standards [which reminds me, let me cut the Pure Foods Brigade off at the pass. Yes, yes, I know none of this stuff is good for you. Spare me the sanctimommy]; but the kids like it, so… whatever.
However, there is absolutely nothing different about this soup from the regular Disney Princess soup. Observe,
Normal Disney Princess soup can:
Frozen soup can:
It is exactly the same. They didn't even try to pretend to change the contents (other than the misleading front label). They couldn't even pretend that Arial shape was Elsa? What does a carriage or slipper have to do with Frozen? Campbell's can figure out how to shape an egg white like a castle, but a snowflake is beyond their design capabilities??
C'mon now!
Maybe I'm exaggerating, but this one is straddling the line between fraud and laziness. These "enchanted shapes" are no different from the "cool shapes"—not even a little bit.
Am I the only one who thinks they barely phoned this one in?
In keeping with our vow to the Mom Pledge, all comments will be moderated for tone. Any comments made outside the spirit of that Pledge or any comments made to invoke a reaction outside the scope of that Pledge will not be posted.
In keeping with our vow to the Mom Pledge, all comments will be moderated for tone. Any comments made outside the spirit of that Pledge or any comments made to invoke a reaction outside the scope of that Pledge will not be posted.
I used to be the ultimate techno geek. If I didn't buy a product first, I darn sure knew about it before anyone in my circle. And then… life happened (I got one, I guess?). Kids happened. And then iPhone happened.
I was told very early in my Apple indoctrination induction to never buy the first generation of Apple anything; always give it a couple of months for them to fix the bugs. Every iPhone and iOS release has proven why this rule exists. Apple gets a little twitchy with the releases. Things slip through the cracks—major things (Apple Maps, anyone??).
And iPhones are expensive, yo. When you have two kids and a whole grownup existence to support, $400 every year [which, really, is a conservative estimate, because if you're buying a new phone every year, you're paying full price, so it's more like $800 every year] for a phone seems a little crazy unless you just have money to burn.
So once I switched from a non-Apple existence, I never again felt the need to be the first to have something new. Good thing, too, because I'm not the type to camp out for anything, let alone a phone.
I held on to my 3S until the iOS upgrades became unsupportable. Even then, I didn't switch to a 4 until I switched cell phone providers and didn't have a choice (3S wasn't an option). I didn't switch to a 4S until my trust old 4 flew out of my hands on an escalator and landed two stories below me, face down. That also wasn't my choice. Some 17-year old "Genius" forced me into it after he sarcastically informed me that they didn't even carry refurbished 4s anymore, so I was going to have to take a 4S. I skipped the 5, the 5S, and the 5C.
In fact, the main reason I decided to buy a 6 is because my trusty old 4S wasn't so trusty anymore. Somewhere around iOS 7.0.whatever, it decided that it would be fun to freeze crash every hour or so. And then that hour became 30 minutes. Then 10. This should have turned me off Apple completely. Instead, it made me crave a new phone.
Indoctrination. Complete.
Even with my constantly crashing phone, I didn't camp out or pre-order an iPhone 6. I (semi-)patiently waited a couple of weeks until Verizon gave me those magic words, "Eligible for an Upgrade." I waited another week or so for the phone to come off backorder and ship (two weeks earlier than projected).
And now I have my phone. And I love it. But I also remember another reason I don't like iPhones within the first couple of months of release.
Cases.
This baby needs protecting. And, so far, the contenders aren't cutting it.
If that "phone flying off an escalator" reference wasn't a hint to you, I'm kind of a klutz. Yes, I may be only on my fourth or fifth model of an iPhone, but this is easily my 20th iPhone. I'm not really sure how long my record is for keeping an iPhone without submerging it, breaking it, or having my screen shatter to bits; but I know that record is held by my last phone, which was lovingly protected by a Lifeproof case [suggested by the "Genius" who was no doubt looking at my replacement history when he made the suggestion]. My other phones weren't case-less; their cases simply failed them. Miserably.
And here I am with a brand new phone, and Lifeproof can't even give me an estimate of when is making me wait another month before I can breathe a sigh of relief. There's not even a waiting list; just a "leave your email address here if you want us to notify you when we are close to maybe someday in the near future releasing a case." Sigh.
I have had my new phone for one week, and I have tried out three cases. Three. All bought after hours and hours of wasting time I don't have research.
I hate them all. And I hate every stupid blog, article, or Amazon reviewer that led me to them.
There isn't a single one of these cases that gives me the confidence that if I drop my phone while exiting the car, my phone will survive the concrete. I have already dropped my phone four times (FOUR) and consider myself lucky that each drop has been on laminate rather than tile or pavement.
I'm a nervous wreck. I'm on edge. Even Pop Culture Dad has said, while staring down Case #1, "That thing will be broken by end of the month." And he's probably right.
There is no room for error here. If this phone breaks, I'm looking at the end of a wait list to get a replacement. And then there's *gulp* the money.
Case #3: Pretty and pretty pointless. No screen protection whatsoever. And it doubled the weight of my phone. Doubled. Yeah... That's not going to make me drop it faster.
Case #2: I don't even know WTF this is. It's practically paper.
Case #2: Sadly, I probably never should have abandoned my first "love" [okay, not really. Not fan-girling this one either]. It also lacks screen protection, but at least it was solid, leather, and weighs nothing.
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So Pop Culture Dad and I were watching Thanks for Sharing, which is a movie about sex addicts, and there's this one character who's just royally messed up (yes, even more than the other addicts). He's also a food addict. Without spoiling the movie, let's just say he's (initially, anyway) disgusting and an ass.
I remembered the actor was in this show on NBC where he was the president's son, who was a complete screw up; but couldn't remember what else. An hour into it, Pop Culture Dad exclaims, "Holy shit, I just remembered! That's Olaf!" That's right. Josh Gad. We watched most of the movie and couldn't remember the name/previous characters of Book of Mormon's Josh Gad. We've seen Frozen half a million times but hadn't placed the voice. Maybe it's because I cannot even begin to think of Olaf doing the things Josh Gad did in this movie.
After Pop Culture Dad made his revelation, it killed every scene with Josh Gad. Everything he said or did, I just pictured Olaf. Frozen is never going to be the same again.
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On Tuesday, TMZ circulated a video of Bobby Brown stumbling, huffing, and puffing his way through "If It Isn't Love," before eventually just walking off the stage promptly after "I really love her/Love her?/WHAT??". If you aren't familiar with this 80s classic, that isn't the end of the song. It was, however, the end for Bobby.
Since I had tickets to the Thursday night show in Houston, all day Wednesday I had co-workers telling me to make sure I brought a camera just in case Bobby had some crazy antics on stage… or, you know, just keeled over.
Before I left to meet my friend for dinner, Pop Culture Dad called me and said I should be home early, because there's no way Bobby Brown was showing up, "The concert should be over in an hour." I declared him wrong. So imagine my surprise when I saw this tweet while trying to figure out the best place to park for the concert:
Here's the thing, though: just like when they booted him out of the group in 1985, New Edition doesn't need Bobby Brown.
Sure, I was disappointed Bobby wasn't there, but why was that? It wasn't that I missed his singing. He was never the best voice in the group; that honor went to Ralph Tresvant and was tied with Johnny Gill after Bobby left the group. It isn't that he's the best or most entertaining dancer. There may have been a time that was (partly) true, but it hasn't been true for decades now. Bobby is the youngest member of the group (though not by much), but looks and moves like the oldest. The honor of most entertaining dancers goes to BBD (Ricky Bell, Michael Bivins, and Ronnie DeVoe). Hell, BBD has been making appearances everywhere this summer, and it is almost like it is the summer of 1990 again, with "Poison" being on everyone's playlist. It was featured in Think Like a Man, Too, complete with its own new video. They performed it at Kandi Burruss's wedding reception, which aired on Bravo last week. In fact, everyone there was waiting to hear "Poison," which is probably why it is performed very near the end of the set list.
Really, the only reason I wanted to see Bobby Brown was for the sheer spectacle of it. Just like when he and Whitney Houston had their reality show, Being Bobby Brown, Bobby B. remains a fascinating trainwreck. And, to be honest, I didn't miss it all that much.
New Edition sans Bobby performed Bobby's biggest hit, "My Prerogative", and dammit if they didn't do it better. In fact, "Prerogative" was the only time during the concert that they mentioned Bobby's name at all. He Who Shall Not Be Named is the new Voldemort, and it appears his former coworkers weren't missing him one bit.
No Bobby, no problems
Bobby Brown missing the Houston concert for mystery "illness" [drug addiction is an illness... but being old and out of shape because of long-term drug and alcohol addiction is not] just emphasized how extraneous he was to the group. Once the concert was under way, nobody missed that fool at all.
I wish Bobby Brown luck in his recovery from whatever he is recovering, but I'm not shedding any tears or demanding any partial refunds because of his absence. I'm sure DFW didn't miss him one but last night either.
Here are some fun photos from the concert. If you want to see more video clips, head on over to The Pop Culture Mom YouTube channel.
Hmm... There seems to be a spacing problem. Were y'all expecting someone else?
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Unless you live under a rock or don't even know any children under the age of 10 (or musical geeks of any age), you've heard of Disney's Frozen.
Frozen is sort of an obsession in the Pop Cuture Household. We saw the movie on opening weekend, even though we had no idea from the piss-poor marketing what the movie was about. We assumed it was about a reindeer and a snowman—doing what, we did not know. But a coworker of Pop Culture Dad saw the movie with his five-year old daughter on opening day and had given us the recommendation that, since we are all crazy over musicals, we would love it. He isn't even a Broadway fan, but downloaded the soundtrack as soon as he got home and had already memorized one of the songs.
Like most people, we instantly fell in love with Frozen. We saw the movie two more times in the theater (once, courtesy of a ton of free tickets after redeeming our Disney Movie Rewards; the other, the weekend the sing-along version was released). We listened to the soundtrack every day. We made a YouTube playlist of the videos and other clips and watched it every day (sometime multiple times a day) while we waited for the release of the DVD.
Even before the record-breaking shortages on Frozen merchandise, I had decided I wanted to make my own Elsa and Anna costumes. Other than having really gotten addicted to sewing, my main reason was that I hate the Disney official dress-up costumes. We have bought several, and the results are always the same: it looks great in the store, but at some point during the first time it is worn, the dress comes completely unraveled and looks like crap (not to mention there are random strings and bits of elastic all over your house). For $30+, I'm not a fan of something that doesn't even make it through the first wear. So I wanted to make something more durable than what you usually find in the toy aisle.
I often looked at Etsy for inspiration on what I would do once I finally settled down and made my own Frozen costumes. One thing I noticed right away is that I hated the Queen Elsa dresses for little girls that were exact replicas of the original. For adults, I think they are fantastic and beautiful. However, when it comes to little children, though I am the furthest thing from a prude, I think the sight of a little girl in a skin-tight dress clinging to her non-existent hips is a little sick. I loathe kiddie pageants, and the whole thing is a little too Toddlers in Tiaras for my taste. I loved all the Elsa dresses that were true to the original spirit, but clearly made for a child's body.
For some reason, I decided the Princess Anna dress would be the easiest of the two to make first. I don't know what I was thinking. Even ignoring the embroidery (which I did by hand over several days), the sheer number of colors and layers made Anna the more difficult of the two. In fact, at the end of the day, Elsa was easier… much, much easier.
So... without further ado, I present Queen Elsa and Princess Anna of Arendelle (Pop Cuture Kid Edition):
As far as the patterns used, I semi-frankenpatterned these dresses.
The Anna dress is primarily the base of Simplicity 9497 with the collar taken from another costume pattern. I lengthened the skirt considerably. There is no lining or overskirt and definitely no bows.
Instead of making a separate shirt, vest, and skirt like Anna's, I made it all one dress with varying fabrics. The gold trim is ribbon.
The hand embroidery is the last thing I did (in fact, I just finished it last night, even though the dress has been sewn for a couple of weeks now and I both started and finished the Elsa dress in between). I don't own an embroidery machine and wouldn't know how to use one if I did. In fact, freshman year of college I got fired from a holiday job at an embroidery shop, because I was that bad with machines. However, I've been cross-stitching since I was 10, so I figured, "What the hell? I'll give it a shot." My embroidery isn't perfect by any means. Heck, anyone who is as Type A as Pop Culture Dad generally is when it comes to symmetry might consider it a hot mess, but I'm still proud of it! And it's for a toddler.
Elsa was much more simple. This dress is primarily Simplicity 1508 (D).
In fact, other than skipping the lining, the sash, and the cording and adding a layer of glittery mesh, sleeves (a modified version of the sleeves I made for the Anna dress), and the cape (which was actually two feet longer before we realized it presented a safety hazard around the house), it is almost exactly the dress. I won't lie, I love this pattern for little girls. It is simple and beautiful and girly and adorable. I may start scheduling monthly tea parties just to have a reason to make a dozen more of this pattern. Little Diva won't mind; she lives [that is not a typo] to dress up.
Overall, my project was pretty successful. The Pop Cultural Girls are happy. I'm happy. They're ready for Princess and Super Hero Day at school later this summer… and Halloween. And with a few more months of practice, I'll be ready to open my Etsy shop of over-priced Frozen-inspired knockoffs to capitalize on the mass hysteria.😉
UPDATE: Since the original post, I made some modifications to the Elsa dress. The sleeves were too itchy for Little Diva, so I made new ones after having her test out several fabrics for their comfort fabric. Since I was already "in there," I Elsa-fied the dress with several bead ribbons, glitter paint, and dollar store ornaments.
Not to be left out, I also fashioned an Anna cape using the new Simplicity Disney-official Frozen pattern (Simplicity 1220).
I would say they're pretty happy with the end results:
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Last week, one of my across-the-street neighbors ("C") came by to let us know that her husband and two other guys on our street had decided to have a crawfish boil on Saturday. She wanted to invite us and also make sure we had moved any cars away for the bouncy house [I assumed the visit was more for the latter than the former]. The day of the block party, Pop Culture Dad was going to be gone for a few hours, which meant I would likely have to go with the girls to the party on my own. {gulp, panic}
Though the party was going on directly in the front of my house and the Pop Culture Girls had been on "bouncy house watch" since noon, I kept delaying going outside. Eventually, they stopped accepting my lame excuses, and we walked out the front door and into the lion's den. My kids playing in the bouncy house made a good excuse for me to avoid talking to people for a good hour. Of course, I made polite (I think) conversation with the other parents near the bouncy house, and I talked to C and her husband. But other than that, I focused my attention on my children, probably appearing way more Helicopter Parent than I actually am [for the record, I'm not… at all].
After noticing that many of the other adult partygoers were on their second (or more) beer or glass of wine, I decided it was socially acceptable for me to go into my house and retrieve a Cherry Limeade. For those of you who don't know, the "grownup" version of a Cherry Limemade involves cherry-flavored vodka. Half a red Solo cup later, I was feeling a little less freaked out by the whole idea of being at a party with no one I (really) knew.
Eventually I got comfortable enough to allow myself to get some crawfish and attempt to find a place to sit. And that's when I was all of the sudden transported to middle or high school all over again. "Um... Excuse me.... {squeak} Is anyone sitting here?" I found myself at a table with C and my next-door neighbor ("V"), in a seat in between a neighbor I've seen many times but to whom I've never spoken a word and V's Zumba buddy. The ladies all chatted for a bit, while I was totally silent, smiling, nodding, and laughing, until someone asked me about the Pop Culture Girls. Now there's a subject on which I can speak without feeling like an idiot or that I was butting in on someone else's private conversation. That opened the door for me to chat freely with the ladies about many topics, as though I hadn't been sitting there nearly paralyzed for the past 15 minutes. At some point, C said she was ready for another drink, but wasn't sure what she wanted. I mentioned I was thinking about making a refresher of my own and asked if anyone else wanted a drink. Once they all found out what I was drinking, I ended up taking four drink orders.
I bounded back into my house and came out less than five minutes later with a fresh, cold pitcher of Cherry Limeade and a stack of cups. After one sip, V turned to me and said, "Now I know why you never come out of your house! If I made drinks like this, I would never go outside either. I'd just be sitting on my couch all day having a private party!"
OMG... How embarrassing!!
(Not my typical Friday night, I swear)
There was no malice to the statement at all. It was a lighthearted, good-natured joke. But it was also a very real, kind of ugly truth that I live in a community of very social people, all approximately the same age as me, with kids very close in age to mine, and minus the five-minute conversation here and there, I talk to no one. I'm not new to the neighborhood; I've lived here almost 11 years. Heck, my house was the first one built in our cul-de-sac, and I was the first neighbor here. The neighbors all know Pop Culture Dad's name (though he has only lived here 7 years), but I would be surprised if anyone other than C, her husband, and their next-door neighbors (who weren't at the block party) knew mine, and not just because my name is hard to pronounce (for some people).
It isn't that my neighbors are awful or boring people or that I wouldn't have any common threads on which to have conversations. The few conversations I've had with them all have been really enjoyable. After the "no wonder you never leave the house" joke, we all continued to chat for a long time. And when Pop Culture Dad arrived, he couldn't even tell from my demeanor and the fun we were all having by that point that I had had, just hours before, extreme discomfort at the idea of being in a social situation with strangers and near-strangers. And it's not that I sit in my house drinking all day—no matter how good those Cherry Limemades are.
I'm an introvert—an extreme introvert. I can stand on a stage and sing, dance, or act to a crowd or stand in a courtroom and present my case to the judge or a jury; but go to a business function where there is networking involved or have to go to a party without my close friends or family? Oh gawd no!
People who've seen me in the former situations but don't know me well often have no idea I'm in introvert. That's because in those situations, I'm well-prepared and damn-near on fire [seriously, when I was a volunteer prosecutor in the municipal courts, one of the defense attorneys told me the reason my courtroom always had extra people is because word had gotten out about how good my voir dire and opening statements were, and the defense attorneys enjoyed watching me interact with the jury]. People who know me well would probably use "talkative" as one the first words to describe me. Once you have breached my protective layer, you are in my chatty circle forever. (Sorry)
But I would rather have a barium enema [for the record, worse than unmediated childbirth] than have to make small talk in a room of strangers for an hour.
Where can you find me at a party where I know zero people? Hanging out by the food table, stuffing my face and clutching my wine glass so tightly that it could shatter at any minute. My standard M.O. is to find another introvert (often easy to find, because s/he will be at the other end of the food table or standing near the bar or pretending to closely examine the artwork), come up with some dumb opener, and then cling to that person for dear life until s/he finds someone s/he actually knows and abandons me. At that point, I either scope out another introvert or, if I feel like I've "done my time" grab my purse and go (swiftly).
There are plenty of "how to regard an introvert" articles out there, but one thing I've never seen is how to explain to someone that you're an introvert without looking even odder than you have already. I wish when V made her joke about sitting around the house drinking all day, I would've felt comfortable enough to explain, "No. I'm not a recluse… or a snob… or an alcoholic. I'm just a gal who is very withdrawn around people I don't know, who has no idea how to start a conversation, and who is always terrified of sounding like an idiot and a complete weirdo when talking to people I don't know very well." But having the gumption to explain all that really wouldn't have been in my introverted nature, would it?
In keeping with our vow to the Mom Pledge, all comments will be moderated for tone. Any comments made outside the spirit of that Pledge or any comments made to invoke a reaction outside the scope of that Pledge will not be posted.
(1) If someone ASKS to be recorded and is fully aware he is being recorded when he makes ignorant statements, it is neither an injustice nor "shady" to record said person.
(2) A private company taking action has NOTHING to do with your "First Amendment rights" or "civil liberties," even when that private company is your employer, who doesn't like something you said.
(3) The NBA is a FRANCHISE. Donald Sterling's ownership interest is nothing but a license, revocable by the licensor (the league) at any time, within the guidelines set forth in that license. A licensor is allowed to protect the reputation and monetary value of its brand as it sees fit.
(4) Sterling will be bought out. He stands to make a HUGE profit on the sale. Don't cry for him, Argentina.
(5) A "lifetime" ban imposed on an 81-year old man who is clearly not in the best physical condition isn't exactly 50 years here, people. }
(6) NO ONE (except maybe the NBA and NAACP) is arguing that it was fine and dandy for the NBA and NAACP to stand and watch this man's decades of racism and even honor and support him. But that doesn't negate the fact that it is a *good thing* that those organizations have FINALLY responded (even if those responses are probably more commercially driven than anything).
(7) I don't give two flips about the character and history of Donald Sterling's mistress. I don't think anyone ever assumes that a 30-something-year old woman with thousands of dollars of plastic surgery/enhancements who has changed her name to an initial and is dating a wealthy, racist, obese, married octogenarian is a highly moral and likable individual. She is a gold digger and has questionable ethics?? You don't say!! It still doesn't change the fact that this man is reprehensible and has been for a LONG time. He didn't have to be goaded or tricked into saying a darn thing.
In keeping with our vow to the Mom Pledge, all comments will be moderated for tone. Any comments made outside the spirit of that Pledge or any comments made to invoke a reaction outside the scope of that Pledge will not be posted.
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In keeping with our vow to the Mom Pledge, all comments will be moderated for tone. Any comments made outside the spirit of that Pledge or any comments made to invoke a reaction outside the scope of that Pledge will not be posted.