Here you are, the Main Event

Steam-Con was the only place this week-end where one could shout, 'Hey you, with the top hat and brass goggles!'--two typically distinguishing features--and twenty heads would turn. That is, presuming the Fancy Welder's Society didn't have a get-together as well.

It was really a marvelous weekend, and I can describe it simply in two ways. One: awesome. Two: Next Year.
The people of the con were awesome. Polite, clever, funny, smart, well-costumed and well-versed in what steampunk really was. I was hugely intimidated by the lot, which leads me to my second description.
Next year was mantra between me and my traveling companion, Miss 'Lola Miles'. There was somebody with an absolutely wicked-brilliant costume; next year, we told each other. There was a panel we missed because I forgot my schedule book; next year. We missed a great deal of dancing (albeit badly) to a DJ's music; NEXT YEAR.
This isn't to say that despite all our next-yearing, we didn't have a smashing time. Among our many busy accomplishments, we saw Abney Park live, twice (once for the proper concert and once for a Victorian Sing-a-long), participated to some degree in the Girl Genius Radio Theatre, LARP'ed and found out how to steam-punk our table-top RPG--that is, assuming we ever start one.
Some things at the con were--to me, anyway, rather surprising. Most notably, the average age of the people there. While there was a smattering of minors and a fair few twenty-somethings, the majority of the con-goers appeared to be at least thirty. Perhaps it is strange of me to be surprised like that; who else has the money for SP?
Less notably, but more surprising for me is that the members of Abney Park has their children with them. Only Daniel, the bassist and Captain Robert, lead singer/drummer have them, but the three little girls were both adorable and disarming in their own way. This struck me as Miss Lola and I passed Capt. Robert and his two daughters (Isabella and Chloe, I believe) on their and our way to panels. Truly bizarre.
The aftermath of Steam-Con is not going to leave me soon, I can tell that. I have no desire to tone-down my steam-powered vocabulary anymore, nor to tuck my goggles away safe and sound back onto my lamp. I worked madly toward the end of my con preparations, and I believe though I will keep a slower pace, I will not stop working toward increasing my seamstress skills.
Now the hour is late, and I'm almost done copying all the work-book pages from Hai, Ima! that Ned lent me. It's chock-full of kanji, so it may help me and Joel in the Japanese IV class we're sitting in on.

Yours sincerely,
Murphs

What.

If there is a god, it was dropped on its head sometime around the beginning of time. For surely any sane or mentally capable god would not allow this and this to permeate the aetherweb. And yet, I grow ever-fearful that this is exactly the sort of thing that not only is common here, but is also what many people wish to read.
But I did not rouse myself from a pile of literature (No lie, I have three enormous stacks of books I've to read) to whine about the goings on of a public high school. No, I'm here to tell you how wicked-psyched I am for Steam-Con! There are seven days to go before Miss Miles and I (okay, and my dad) sally forth to Seattle.
While I am vastly unprepared, (ie: I haven't finished my steampunk wings, Shangri-La Postal Service messenger bag and armband, my aforementioned gigantic reading list, ect.) I look forward to this the way I did Sakura-Con (which I rather hope I'll be able to attend again this year, perhaps with SFCC Anime Club). Namely, I am ridiculously cowed about how ill-informed I will doubtless appear to these people.
NOW. Concerning previous comments!
Ned- I would like the record to show that I have never possessed 'overflowing self-confidence.' I apologize if any of you have EVER gotten this impression.
To Helios- If you are who I think you are (Brass Goggles?) Then not only have one of my many links worked, but I have international readership! Huzzah!
To Lolami- It is a true comfort that you read this and still choose to associate yourself with me. Excited for Steam-Con?!

Now don't mind me, I'm off to read,
Murphs

So. Lunchboxes.

I don't expect anybody to read this for a while, as the Fadeley family has a new baby and Ned is the only one who still seems to remember that I've a blog here. (Prove me wrong, friends!! Give me a comment, however banal!)
Anyway, I promised that I would post picture of my bento experiments all week, but in the end, I decided to put it off until Friday (Or Saturday. Whatever.). So here you are:
This is Tuesday's, which was for my sister.
Two plums, one peanut butter sandwich and about a quarter-cup of Captain Crunch.
In related news, our power was out on Tuesday.

Here is Thursday's, also for my sister. Again, two plums and Captain Crunch. However, as I could cook rice, the bottom portion of my box held about a third-cup of it, and for protein, I gave her a spoon of peanut butter.

Lastly, here's Friday's, for myself and the viewing pleasure of the Japanese Club. Another third-cup of rice, peanut butter crackers (Damn, I used a lot of peanut butter), baby carrots and cherry tomatoes. It's pretty bloody awful in my opinion, and my presentation on Japanese bentos was... lacking. Needless to say, the presentation Nazis of RLA would have been delighted to finally bitch me out on an awful project. Thank god they weren't there.

Nothing else really happened this week, so I'll leave you alone now.

Yours,
Murphs

Update!

I haven't posted in a bit--sorry! Surprisingly, I've found myself somewhat busy--one might even go as far as to say I've obtained a life. Now that I'm a) conscious, b) sitting in front of a computer and c) remembered to update, I'll fill you all in on my newly obtained social life.
I joined a few clubs, since it seemed the best way to meet others with similar interests. A few, by the by, means three in this context; Anime Club, Gamers' Club and Japanese Club (アニメのぶかつとガマのぶかつと日本のぶかつです。 How's that, Ned?) The last of these, it seems, is going to be the most time-consuming, mostly because I magically made it as the club secretary.
A long silence had taken the room when Yasuka-せんせい　asked who wanted to be secretary and I figured, hey, I've got good handwriting, Japanese or Latin letters. And so here I am. It's not such a hard gig, actually. I just take notes about the meeting (which I would have sort-of done anyway) and write stuff on the board in my excellent handwriting.
Last week's Wednesday was Club Day, so I have no report for you all on Anime Club other than what I learned almost a fortnight ago (たいやき Tuesdays!! If only I didn't have my whole Tuesday packed...). Club Day, however, was... 'an adventure,' as my mother would put it. If you see any SFCC publicity pictures with me in my nekomimi, that's the day they took them (When else is one expected to wear them? And where?) .
Gamers' Club also reports little; I don't play many multiplayer games (mostly because I've nobody good to play against), but it's really very fun to watch some people play Guitar Hero on those crazy expert levels.
Let's drift back to the Japanese Club for a time, though. Every week, one of our members is supposed to take a look at some portion of Japanese culture. Yesterday was tea ceremony (Ack! That green tea is bitter. No lie.). It was a lot of fun, I think. And I now know that macha is definitely not my cup of tea--if you'll pardon the pun.
The next presentation is to be done by yours truly, on Japanese obento lunches. I'm going to make one up for Friday to show off. Unfortunately, my lunch-packing skills aren't exactly on-par. So for Monday to Friday, you will all get pictures of my various lunch attempts for my sister (Monday to Thursday) and my show off one for Friday (Does anybody know where one buys うめぼし in Spokane?!).
So with that, I'll leave this alone until then, with the exception of one last comment. To all my elders, it's true. I like community college SO MUCH MORE than RLA. There's just something about the anonymity and picking the people I spend time with (not spending seven hours with forty kids I loathe) that is making even the heinously embarrasing monologues of my acting class worthwhile.
You were right (no matter how much it pains me to say so.).

Humbly Yours,
Murphs