It's like lemonade- Sweet, Tangy, and Refreshing!

September 25, 2006

The Top Ten Reasons why one should visit the KC Renn Faire

10. Nikolai Boleynand his crazy gypsy accent.
Or any of his brother's crazy gypsy accents. All the sons of the maestro have to be heard to be believed. Nikolai should be one of the maestro's sons wandering around, possibly freezing, with a half-vest, one yellow pants leg, one blue pants leg, and a yellow gypsy scarf. He may or may not be in the process of wooing young women.

9. Queen Elizabeth, who is great.
She's a fun sort of character meeting those who curtsy with a, "Well met, rise." This year, she's entertaining a French suitor who has plenty of fops which also must be seen and played with. I didn't get to play with many of the actors, but it was fun indeed. Also, if you choose the "Tea with the Queen" package at the beginning of your visit, the fee also includes your ticket into the faire, so you might as well visit with royalty, no?

8. Tambourines of Flame: The Gypsy Show!
No, it doesn't feature Nikolai, but it does headline his brother, Adonis. An esoteric show in the fashion of old-old-old school song and dance, it's lots of fun and worth a watch.

7. Turkey legs.
There. I've said it. Turkey legs are easily one of the best reasons to go to a Renaissance Faire. As are Scotch Eggs, Mead, and Sausage-on-a-stick. Faire fare, delicious.

6. Jousting.
Yay jousting! Horses and weapons and even a joust to the death at the end! With spurting blood! Huzzah!

5. Christmas Shopping.
Oh, I know that it may be a long way to travel for Christmas shopping. But truth be told, if I'd had enough time, I would have found something for all of my friends at the Renn Faire. We just spent most of the time trying to figure out the map to get from show to show, so we didn't get to shop as much as I had hoped. (Pay attention to the key at the bottom... the line goes north-east/south-west, silly!) Then again, I know that there was no possible way that we could catch all of the shows- and jousts- and shop- and catch Nicolai- all at once. But we tried! We really tried!

Anyway, there are 162 shops, including one that disappeared while we were at the festival. If you don't hit them all, no sweat. Just come back next week!

4. The Washing Wenches: The Wench Show.
Oh, good times... good times indeed. If you go, and sit in the front rows, be prepared that you might become sprinkled at some point in the show. Bawdy, clean fun. Bawdy, soapy, dirty, clean fun.

3. Games, Games, Games...
Like any good fairground, there's a veritable plethora of games to choose from, including- but not limited to- knife throwing, star throwing, dart throwing, hatchet throwing, "guess the weight", and so on. If you win, you get a sticker, bragging rights, and nifty prizes to boot.

2. Fae, Farmers, Mages, and Fops.
Upon entering the park, you can notice two types of people. Those dressed for the party, and those who aren't. Now, take a look at the ones gussied up in character. Actors? Visitors? Can you tell the difference? Between the Vulgarians, who dress to impress, and the computer programmer who wakes up one morning and says "I think I'll be Gandalf today," half the fun is elbowing a wizard in the ribs and asking him to hex your ex. And if not, be sure to play fetch with the doggie-beggar.

1. The Grand Finale.
At the end, there is a small mass exodus to the front of the grounds, but mostly because everyone else is there. All the entertainers move towards the front, bringing everyone else with them. The Vulgarians, the Pirates, the Maestro, even the Queen creating a rousing party that shouldn't be missed if you intend to spend any part of the day. Complete with a gypsy revel at the end, it is worth your time and your feet.

September 18, 2006


I be terribly ashamed, terribly so.

Aye, for I nearly missed me annual post of Talk like a Pirate day... For shame... for shame indeed. However, if you've missed it as well, fear not. For I bring ye
How To Talk Like A Pirate.

Watch it, ye scurvy dog.

Live it, Cap'n.

Learn it, Jim lad.

And be leaving me comments with yer piratey knowledge.

September 13, 2006


Got my schedule for next week.

I cut myself short on hours, but that's all right. I mean, I am going to KC that weekend... so I've basically got a five-day weekend next week. Hell yeah and yee-haw!

My room's a sight. I'm getting on that just as soon as I get my little incidents straight over here. I mean, I know most of it's paper and the rest is clothes, but my thighs have fallen asleep twice in the past sixteen hours, so I'm going to get out of the house.

Can someone wake me up when September ends?

Or... Wait... don't... my paycheck's going to be small enough the first week of October as it is without me sleeping through the rest of the month...

September 09, 2006

It's kind of funny...

I know in my last blog, I said that it was nice for things to be calm. And it is. But I'm starting to wonder if I can function without just a little bit of chaos in my life. Once things get orderly, I know that there's something about to happen, but I can't figure out what.

Oh, well. I'll figure it out, eventually.

Either that, or someone could help me create a little chaos. I'm usually pretty good about doing that on my own, though.

..........Well, if nothing else, I'm secure in this as upcoming wildness: RENN FAIRE KC IN TWO WEEKS! WOO!!! My first road trip in over two years.

You know, I'm feeling more normal and still relaxed at the same time. That's got to be a good sign, right?

September 04, 2006


Wow. Is it really September?

It's like I've blinked and suddenly my life's changed. Twice. All in the past month. Just think- This time, two months ago, I was at T.J. Maxx, crying about my pay check and completely fearful that I'd never be able to go back to college. Alternately, I would be at T.J. Maxx, determined that I would have a job by the end of the month, no matter if it was just out of retail or a large-scale job.

Last year, September, 2005:
I was shuddering from the aftermath of Katrina, helping the victims who came through the line at T.J. Maxx, watching them tell their stories to each other- to ME, uncertain of their future. Not sure where they'd spend the night, if family would take them in- or just driving to get away from their homes and find life... anywhere other than where they were.

This time, last year, I was starting my creative writing class, feeling the weight on my shoulders of lack of experience, lack of emotion, the eternal editorial voice telling me that I should never have taken a class that involved poetry. But I did. And, you know, I don't think I came away from that class with any one story, poem, or thought that I'm not proud of.

Two years ago, September, 2004:
I was unemployed, and draining my funds slowly. What I had built up in my account began to empty as I had begun to find out that the best thing to do on campus was bring an apple with me, and hang out in the cybercafe. I grew a steady, horrific internet addiction that became a near-problem in opposition to my growing list of books and plays that were obviously more important. And I did pay attention to those books and plays- giving them the attention they deserved.

My class list- though not overwhelming, was particularly hard to keep up with. However, the problem came with understanding. You see? To understand a play, I have to read it. I have to feel it. I've had more luck recently with getting people to read with me- or maybe the next time I have a Shakespeare play, I should find a good book-on-tape to read with. I don't know...

Three years ago, September, 2003:
Working at Wolf's, taking the bus to and from the house where I'd been born, wandering Webster, learning the Metrolink, walking... just walking in the morning before the sun even rose, some mornings, and listening to my CD player on my way to catch the first bus. Then, the second bus. I was looking forward to Hot Chocolate, but certainly not ready to start buying it yet- not until at least the end of the month, at any rate.

This time, 2003, I was cleaning roses and putting them in tissue paper, wiring flowers for wedding bouquets, floral-taping fall leaves for winter bouquets. I was watching the leaves rustle, and being teased by Jillian for being a dork. (And I am a dork. I don't even bother to deny it anymore. But I'm still not a nerd. I'm not completely socially inept. I also don't like math and don't do pocket protectors. But I digress.) I made my excuses as to why I didn't go see Mom's grave- no way to get there, etc. Maybe I was afraid of how I'd feel.

I miss Wolf's. Can you tell? I need to bring them pie.


And that brings me back to this year. This time of year. What's been going on with me? Oh, nothing too ridiculously much. For the first time that I can remember, I'm not stressed, pressed, pushed, frightened, worried, alone, scared, wound tight, or completely directionless. I'm... here.

It's disconcerting, especially when you've been on edge for the past three months.

I kind of like it, though. Gives me more time to focus on my Mammoth book of Pulp Fiction.

Happy September, everybody.