Once Upon a Time I Remembered I Had a Blog And Then This Happened

I can't be the only person to ever cry for a good thirty minutes over the fact that my life is not some epic adventure you'd read in a fictional story. Everyone wishes for a fairy-tale at some point, right? Just anything that could even semi represent magic. Just a touch of something sweet and unusual and different. Something unexplainable and unique enough to stand out against whatever our normal may be. This is something we've all hoped for at least once in our lives, right? I mean, everybody has tried to test to see if they have superpowers before. That's no secret. And it's always really depressing whenever the glass we were moving with our mind doesn't actually budge at all. Or when you discover that you really, really can't control any of the elements. Or when you can't, in fact, read somebody's mind. 

This is all stuff I have done anyways. Many times. Over and over. For probably the entire life I have in memory. Because I figured, if I keep trying enough, EVENTUALLY something had to work. And I just wanted so badly for it to work. 

This was honestly the most frustrating thing in the world for me. And the frustration kept getting worse when I started to get older and the pure WANT I had for it wouldn't go away. Not even slightly. Sometimes I feel like it only got stronger.

Later on I wasn't even upset that I couldn't find some magical locket or meet a ghost, I was mostly upset because I felt like a baby for still pining after such things. While all my friends (who were all maybe 12-13 at the time) were already excited about going to high-school in the next year or so, or getting their license when they're a little bit older, or deciding on a career they want to start working towards for their future, I felt REALLY stupid for wishing I could make a mysterious friend and fight off monsters in an alternate dimension. Really, really, really dumb. I cried about this a lot. For three reasons:

1. Because I wasn't getting an unbelievable adventure

2. Because I felt silly for spending all of my free time thinking about magic. At 13. 

3. Because the older I got the more apparent it was to me that these sorts of things don't actually happen in reality. 

I really can't express hard enough how incredibly stupid I felt. I really can't. I thought I was totally ridiculous for waiting for an epic story. I felt alone, I felt disappointed, I felt scared, I felt sorry for myself, I felt like I was crazy. But the whole time, through ALL the depression and anxiety this little wish was causing me, there was STILL this sliver of underlying hope that maybe, just maybe, something would happen.

I had this fear of growing up. Because I knew that this feeling wasn't going to go away. And I didn't want to get any older and feel any weirder about it until I had something to make it stop. Or at least until I knew what the purpose of feeling this way WAS.("feeling this way" mostly meaning feeling like a Tim Burton-esque bobblehead that would play strange music if you shook it.)

I'm 16 now. Which, if I ever come back to read this in like five years, will probably seem really young. But I feel like a super ancient version of that 13 year old self right now. Super ancient. Like, I'm that wise old man with the long white beard waiting at the top of the mountain you've been climbing for weeks to seek my knowledge or something. Mostly, I just feel like a different person. Which, descriptively, probably makes more sense and I should have just said that in the first place. (Whatever though. The old man thing was way cooler.)

The reason I feel so different? Well besides the "wondrous" process of puberty, is because I'm learning to find the magic in life. And NOT just in the really wacky dreams I have. (Seriously though. They're weird.)  

It's in the little things. Those moments with your best friend when you just look at each other and KNOW you're thinking the same thing. So the insane laughter ensues. Or when it rains and the trees get dewy and the sunset makes them look like they're made of gold. Or when you get random deja vu that seems so clear you seriously start to wonder if your life is on repeat. Or when you think you see a shadow out of the corner of your eye but nobody is actually there. Or when you know somebody well enough you can read their exact thoughts and emotions by just their facial expression. Or those times you get really strong, fluttery gut pulls towards people or things. Just those unexplainable tugs towards something. Where you're not really sure WHY you can't stop thinking about something or WHY that thought popped into your head or WHY you automatically noticed something or someone. It just happens. 

I tried to pay attention to those more after one night when I felt a random panic and the urge to start talking to one of my friends. I later the next day found out she had almost gotten hit by a car that same night.

It's not like I was then able to predict everything that was gonna happen in everybody's lives. But sometimes when I felt like I needed to text a friend or buy a certain lipstick color (No I'm actually not joking about that.), they were needing someone in that moment or that one specific cosmetic thing ended up becoming really important in a project I would have soon after. 

Plus, there's nothing wrong with just letting yourself be happy. It's nice when you like something or someone and you just stop questioning why or what the purpose may be.

A quick example:

This ring.

I walked into an antique shop one time. A fairly large, adorable, and super awesome store. This was the first thing I saw. 

It was in a glass case that was JAM-FREAKING-PACKED with tons of really pretty, glittery jewelry. And this was the first thing that caught my eye.

After walking around for a while with my mom I  took her over to the case to show her the ring. 

The lady working there asked if we wanted to see anything. So she brought out the ring and handed it to me and I literally almost cried. (#melodrama) ((Okay but seriously I did actually almost cry. It was a weird reaction.)) 

She told us it's from the 40s. And that it's the "Cinderella" ring because lots of girls like it but it doesn't ever fit on any of them. 

So I decide to try it on.

It didn't fit me either. It was too small to go over my knuckle. 

This made me sad but I still wanted it anyways. I figured I could get it resized or something. Maybe keep it and somehow make sure it ends up as my wedding ring. I didn't know. I just thought it was super pretty. 

I was kind of obnoxious for the next couple weeks because I kept bringing it up. I promise, I'm not some spoiled brat that stamps her foot and whines till she has all the pretty things. I just really liked the ring. And I liked making up stories about who might have owned it previously and stuff. It was unique. 

My birthday came, and I got it as a gift. With the promise that some day we'd get it looked at to see if anyone could make it bigger because it still didn't fit. 

A few hours later I'm messing around with it. Putting it halfway on random fingers and holding it in the light to watch it sparkle and taking pictures of it and stuff to send to my friends to say "OHMYGODIGOTIT". When all of a sudden:

It just slides right on. 

Let me just recap.

It DID NOT fit on my finger before. I tried it on three different times. It refused to go over my knuckle.

Suddenly it just slides right over.

I was wearing it.

Waht. 

I think I maybe sat there for like three days trying to figure out what happened. (Kidding. It was like three seconds because I had to stand up and scream at everybody "IT FIIIIIITS!!!!") 

So that's the story. I realize it might not be really impressive to everybody out there, but I'd just thought I'd share a little bit of the magic I'm trying to create in my life. Because, as I said from the beginning, I can't be the only one that wants it this bad. 

I hope none of this seemed arrogant or braggy. I'm not meaning to come across as "omg look at how weird and different i am lol". I just wanted to share what's going on in my life in hopes that maybe, just maybe, somebody who needs the reminder that they aren't the only one feeling this way will read it and feel less alone. 

I still sometimes get that overwhelming feeling that maybe I'm really stupid or my brain is broken for trying to create a fairy-tale out of everything. But thankfully, I'm blessed with really super rad friends and family. Friends who will text me things like "Dude I just saw a butterfly I think it's a sign that I'm doing something right." or call me when "Okay so I think my house is haunted". And family that reminds me I'm not crazy. I'm not stupid. And then smother me with love and listen to me talk about the dream I had that night in full detail for seven hours. 

So if any of you ever feel like you don't have any super rad friends or super rad family for some reason, I'll be your super rad friend. And this is a letter for you. Letting you know it's not silly to want a ring really badly because it almost made you cry when you saw it. And you're not broken if you constantly wish you could find a portal to another universe. And YOU ARE NOT ALONE. 

Now go. Find something magical and tell me about it. Start small. And then eventually make the whole freaking universe better than a Disney movie.

~Magpie 

A rant about lemons and music

So sometimes Life hands you lemons and is all like "Here. I heard you were a fan of these things so I thought I'd give you an early Christmas present or whatever." And then strides away snickering like a little brat-hole and you're just left with a giant pile of yellow citrusy fruits. And then you're standing there all confused because you suddenly have a buttload of lemons in your arms, and what on earth are you supposed to do with them? You're like eleven and tiny and awkward.

But then you remember that you actually really like lemons a lot and you could probably do a ton of things with them. But you're scared because you've never done anything with lemons before and what if you completely mess it up or don't do it right or there are other people out there doing it seventy-five times better then you ever could? And then you get sad because your lemon-skills are weird and different and you get really self-conscious about it. So you decide to put them in a corner for a while because you're in denial over how much you actually want to try to make a delicious pastry with them. 

Believe it or not, I'm not actually talking about lemons. 

I know. Shocker. You just read that whole rant about them only to find out I was talking about something completely different. 

Sorry 'bout that. 

But anyways. I was actually talking about the time I was told I could sing. I was around 11-12. I had a random song in my head and was kind of humming along to it. Later, I was commanded to sing it aloud. So I did. And so begins the story.

At first, I hated it. I hated singing for people. I hated that suddenly people thought I was good at it and wanted to hear it. It was weird. (but it also may or may not have been because I tend to be very defiant at times when it comes to situations I myself didn't intentionally create.) But eventually I started taking guitar lessons, and then putting the two together. And it quickly became an escape for me. 

Songwriting was a fun way for me to fly around with my head and make magical things happen. And nobody could tell me what to do or how to do it. It was whatever I wanted and envisioned. I didn't care if I could or couldn't sing, or if I was or wasn't good at guitar, I made music I loved and enjoyed every second of it.

At one point, I was even able to perform some of my original songs at my church. And share the stories behind them. 

I was FREAKING. OUT. Because suddenly my little private world of personal problems and quirky wishes, was being listened to by a good handful of people. It felt like everyone was reading my mind. And it was scary.

https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?v=10200821271278451&set=vb.1363691884&type=2&theater

 ^So that would be a link to a video of one of my songs if you're interested. 

It was terrifying and exhilarating at the same time. I loved it.

But recently I've hit this wall. I've just had so much trouble writing. I'm starting to second-guess everything and dislike the way it sounds. And it freaking SUCKS because songwriting is how I usually deal with issues I have or crazy emotional moments I'm having. It's like my diary. Except right now it's like my diary but I can't find a pen and suddenly my handwriting is illegible and stupid looking. 

So it's an annoying situation. And it's hard when I feel like I have so much stuff going on but I can't empty it out into something lovely and less heavy. But I thought I'd try turning it into a little mini story to share with you guys so I feel like other people are in on it. And just to let you know what's going on. But mostly because I wanted an outlet and I remembered that that's what these blogthings are kind of for, aren't they?

Moral of the story: Lemons are awesome. But can be extremely complicated and frustrating when they don't help you out with something that's complicated and frustrating.

I'm not even completely sure that makes any sense. But someone somewhere out there read it and took it to heart. 

~Magpie

Finished Product!

Hey guys! So. I'm a leetle bit late with the whole "Presenting my finished Halloween costume" thing. But now I'm just gonna call it "Presenting my finished Joker cosplay costume" to make myself feel a bit better about it.

But I did it! I got it all done! I had tons of help, of course, but it was all completed and all my idea. So I'm pretty proud. 

There's something weirdly satisfying about smearing white face makeup on your face, putting on a wig that smells like marker, and then donning the clothes you've worked so hard to modify. And then getting to strut around your friend's neighborhood singing Christmas carols at people while wearing it? Psh. Nothing can beat it. (And yes. We did actually sing Christmas songs at people. On Halloween. Wearing Batman villain costumes. But joke's on everybody else cuz WE got full sized candy bars for doing so.)

Also? It's really fun when something you envisioned, such as this:

Becomes more of a reality. Like this:

 And it's not TOTALLY the same. But I almost like how it turned out better than how I drew it. (Please excuse my face. It looks like I'm about to sneeze but I was just squinting at the sun.)

So there it is. That's what I would look like if I were the Joker. The mystery's been solved. You don't have to lie awake anymore, wondering constantly. I have the answer for you. And you're welcome.

This whole costume making experience felt way more hectic than I thought it would. But it was fun! And I'm glad I have friends that don't find it weird or obnoxious when that's all I talk about for weeks straight. (or maybe they did. In which case, I appreciate them not telling me.)

I learned how to dye clothes for the first time, that I should never be a hairstylist, that I really like shopping for costume parts, that I really DON'T like shopping for pants to cut and dye into shorts, and that I enjoy wearing the finished product WAY TOO MUCH.

I've always loved playing dress-up. And I guess I still do.

You know what else I love?
Posing for dramatic pictures with horrible makeup like this:

 It's way more fun than it sounds.

So...I guess that's it. The project's over. (I'll still keep up the blog as much as I can though.)

ON TO ANOTHER!
*flies off fabulously with glitter into the sunset*

And....scene.

~Magpie

I Dyed Some Stuff!

So. These past couple of weeks have been interesting. I've dyed clothes for the first time (I learned that if you want to dye a pink thing purple, you have to use blue dye. Not a violet. The blue plays off of the pink better and actually gives you the purple you want.) I learned how to iron on interfacing (first time using an iron and I made it out alive, with no burns or damage to anything! Woo!) And I also got the white face makeup for the Joker face (I may or may not have been really super excited about it.) 

I've also discovered that dying clothing is a lot of fun. Because first you get to mix the dyebath around, and then dump it into the water. And it looks like you're opening a portal to dyetopia or some sinister, otherworldly planet of menacing dye or something. 

See? It goes from interesting purple splotch to BOOM. PURPLE DEATH HOLE OF SCARY DARKNESS in about two seconds flat.

And my favorite part is when you actually get to put the item of clothing IN the scary murkiness, stir it around like you're making some potionthing, and then have it magically come out a different color.

I feel like I may have enjoyed this process a little more than necessary. But at least it was entertaining. And now I'm two steps closer to finishing the whole outfit and wearing it around everywhere I go. (haha...whaaaat?)

I was going to show you what the vest looks like too and everything. But this is literally the fifth time I've typed out this whole post because somehow it keeps deleting everything I just wrote. So I'll talk about it some other time.

Sorry this is so brief! You'll get full looks at the completed top and makeup next post. I promise. For now, have some unicorns and cupcakes. *hands you an explosion of magical items* Don't leave me. 

~Magpie
*three weeks till Joker*

Joker Wig = CONQUERED

None of you know what true boredom feels like until you have to wake up every morning and spend most of your day working on a wig. I'm not even joking. It's the most maddening thing. To sit there and color strand after strand of plastic just to get the look you're wanting. And it's not even a GOOD look I'm going for. All I was trying to do was make Joker hair. That seemed like it would be the least challenging thing to do.  

I was SO. WRONG.

I spent four days on this thing. FOUR. DAYS. And now I have to blog about it and tell you all the interesting details. Except I'm using "interesting" sarcastically. So you can figure that one out. (Spoiler Alert: I secretly meant "boring")

But seriously. As not fun as the process was. It was actually really neat to see it all come together in the end. But that's probably the most exciting thing that happened. Finishing it.

So somehow I magically turned this:

Into this:

From florescent green nightmare to dirty haired villainous clown.
And somewhere in between I managed to accumulate a pile of death.

It's only called the pile of death because if you happen to get of these microscopic needley things on your favorite yoga pants, you're gonna have a bad time. i.e. It's going to poke your legs and make it feel all scratchy and you'll probably want to punch someone in the face.  

Cutting it wasn't the hard part. I'm no hairstylist. Which was perfect in this scenario because I didn't want a good cut anyways.  It was making it less "Hey, I'll make you go blind if you look at me in direct daylight." green that took forever.

What I literally had to do was take little itty bitty chunks of hair and color it with black and darker green Sharpies. I actually got this idea from a clown mask I found at a Halloween store that had little tufts of dirty green hair. Which just turned out to be bright green and black strands of hair mixed together. And for whatever reason, they didn't already have a wig that color. (What's the dealio, Halloween store? Just cuz I hated you as a child doesn't mean you have to be a jerk to me.)

Just enough where it would make it look dirty. Not streaky. (I'd like to take a moment and thank Netflix and New Girl for getting me through each day without going crazy. Seriously. Thanks. {and yes I linked Netflix because you should go watch New Girl})

Little miss Joker-face thing is going safely in my closet where I won't wake up and see her and end up peeing my pants or something. Because somewhere along the line I thought it would be a really good idea to give her a little makeover. And then I realized what a horrifying mistake I've made. 

I blame the marker fumes. Which, I should mention, smelled so rancid that I think I may possibly be hallucinating and I haven't actually finished the wig and just posted the same picture of it seven times.

Trippy stuff.

Well now that that's all done (as far as I'm aware) I have to go deal with rancid fabric dye fumes as I dye my jacket and soon-to-be vest. Who knows? Maybe by the end of this whole process I'll have breathed in enough chemicals that I'll actually become some psychopath villain! #MethodActing

~Magpie
*five weeks till Joker*

Just The Introduction

Okay. Well. . . I guess I have a blog now. Aaaand. . . I feel a little bit awkward. Kind of like someone just dropped me off in the middle of Chicago, in nothing but my underwear, and is expecting me to be fine with it and just bust out a guitar and start singing or something. And I don't think you guys realize how accurately I just described my feelings. Cuz. . . it was pretty spot on.

Anyways. I DO feel really out of my comfort zone with this. So bear with me. And here's to hoping I don't totally embarrass myself over the internet! Woo!

So. What I'm planning on doing with this nifty little blogthing (and yes. Blogthing is supposed to be one word) is to talk about this really big project I'm working on and have been obsessing over for quite a while now.

Prepare yourself.

Because I'm about to conquer. . .

THE JOKER.

         *cue dramatic music*

Alright. Now that I've gotten the initial awkwardness out of the way, it's time to get serious(ish).

Now, I'm preeeeeeetty sure you all know who the Joker is. But if words like Batman, Gotham City, or Heath Ledger still don't ring a bell, it's okay. I'm not mad at you. But we can't be friends and you're not allowed to talk to me. (Just kidding. I'll still love you.)

But since my favorite holiday of all time is coming up (Hint: it rhymes with Halloween and is the one time of year you get to dress up like a dork with no judgement and eat free Reese's from strangers.) I've decided to work on a reallysupercool costume this year. Reallysupercool being Mr. Joker of course. Except I'm going to turn Mr. Joker into Ms. Joker.

SHA-BAM.

A picture of a picture I drew of the costume I'm hoping to create.

So, due to lack of seamstress skills, I'm not making everything from scratch. (Side note: are you allowed to say "from scratch" if you're not talking about cooking?) I'm going to modify some pieces instead.

This is a shirt I picked up from Goodwill. I was trying to match the one Heath Ledger wore in Batman The Dark Knight as close as possible. And also make it a little more feminine. After all, this is Joker reincarnated as a female. 

I decided not to do anything with the shirt because it's pretty perfect the way it is. Plus, it was around $5. Hefty price, I know. I didn't want to ruin something I splurged on. <*sarcasm induced statements*

This groovy little shirt is actually going to become the green vest. Hopefully. I've got some dye and a mother who knows how to make these kinds of things. So I'm pretty sure I'm all set and ready. Fingers crossed!

All I really have to do to the jacket is dye it purple and jam a yellow flower in the pocket. And then wear it and rock everybody's socks off. Maybe even their shoes. I dunno. Depends on how I'm feeling.

I think these may possibly be my favorite thing I got. They're just REALLY cool looking. Thinking about putting buttons along the sides. Hmm. . . 

Here's my whole happy little collection so far! I plan on maybe getting some dress pants and turning them into bubble shorts. Like in the picture I drew. Oh. And that  florescent green monstrosity in the corner? That's my wig. I'm hoping some chopping and coloring will make it less wiggy and horrendous and just make it horrendous and Joker-esque.

Actually, if you want to see how the wig turns out you can check back next week! I'll be writing about my epic battle with unnaturally vibrant, plastic, scalp eater. And I can only hope I'll be successful. Blahhhhhh.

(P.S. Thanks for reading my awkward intro! Means lot to me.)

~Magpie

*six weeks till Joker*