So Ren Fest was pretty much awesome, as usual. Meg and I were in agreement that it was easily our most put together year. I won't even try to deny it: we were smoking hot, the two of us. I love my gypsy costume--major props to my mom for making it. It's such a master piece. I'll probably end up wearing it next year, too. Meg's outfit was equally spectacular, especially that corset she bought. Nevermind the small matter that she could barely breath and she was basically eating her breasts--it really completed the ensemble. And then there was me, with my fatty-chan body squeezed into a vest roughly a size and half too small. I encountered similar breathing problems (to the point of nausea, on occasion), but DAMN--I looked good. Never had hips before. This must be how properly proportioned women feel. Incidentally, I think I undertand pre-revolutionary French women a tad better...

And now I know that Elizabeth Swann wasn't just being a whiny bitch. Or a complete pansy. Because I really almost did pass out at one point, and that is only a slight exaggeration. Seriously. NEVER wear clothes that are a size and half too small if you're planning to prance around in 90 degree heat and oxygen-zapping humidity. If you're having a hard enough time breathing as it is, it is NOT a good plan to frolick about in a climate that is basically equavilant to sucking in a cloud through a straw. Again, only a slight exaggeration, but I swear, October is not supposed to be that hot. Meg and I have to be cursed. If it isn't raining, it's a sauna. And if it rains, it pours.

Also, it is hard to flirt with cute boys when you're all too aware that your hair can substitute as a poodle. Or three poodles. Or three poodles who have just simultaneously struck by lightning.

Despite all that, I had a fantastic time, and I can't wait to go back. Apparently my frazzled poodle look was working for me, because Meg and I got photographed no less than three times...but then again, that could have had something to do with Meg's breastiness and my impossible waist. I wish I had pictures. Le sigh.

And now Val and I are going to watch some Doctor Who so that I might put off some homework I should've done last week. This is what David Tennant does to me--I turn willingly from a life of studious academia to slip into the role of a crazy, bad-fic writing fan girl. Or slip further, if you will.

Good-night, moon.