Femmefatale23

Yesterday I got rid of Facebook...

:O My productivity has already increased greatly! I even *GASP* played ~*VIDEO GAMES*~ for a few hours AND I DIDN'T FEEL GUILTY! I went to school and didn't go on Facebook in class (a first). I  actually, well, listened!  I then came home and spent 6 hours working on my she-hulk costume! Here are the gun holsters I made (still not finished). I am awful at sewing! I wish y'all could have been there when I she-hulked out on the sewing machine because I couldn't figure out how to put the bobbin in, lololol. 

Here's a makeup test I did with the paint I got for She Hulk! It's Kryolan Aquacolor in #512 ! The lip colour is #96 ... An amazing product! It smells niiiice! The wig is from www.epiccosplay.com 

So I still have my facebook cosplay page, give it a like if you want to see more progress on all my costumes! Next is my custom mandalorian armour, and Slyvanas Windrunner! 

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Dara-Defreitas-Cosplay/106592116060765

Until Next Time, 

Petty things, but things nonetheless that are amusing.  This has happened in the past but not at all recently, so this isn’t some vague, passive-aggressive post or anything. So I came across someone’s photo on Facebook and noticed they cropped someone out of it because you could still see part of the other person…

 I knew that other person and they are good friends with each other…

When that happens to me all I can think is:

OH THANKS, I THOUGHT I LOOKED FABULOUS BUT I GUEEEESSS YOU DIDN’T! OR ARE YOU ASHAMED OF ME? MAYBE YOU WERE UNSURE IF PEOPLE WOULD BE ABLE TO DISTINGUISH BETWEEN THE TWO OF US? …UNSURE IF THEY ARE ON YOUR PAGE OR MINE?! You may look a bit like this:

Once it sinks in it’s like, ouch, my life…

In this narcissistic day in age where an average Jane can snap roughly 10 - 20 selfies a day, you’d think if that person wanted a profile pic of JUST themselves, they’d have a feeeeew lying around. 

Ohhhh, so it was a photo of you with your ex?? COME ON! Just change it to a different one already! Do you really want to see that photo every day that you angrily hacked your ex out of while in your grimiest sweats, deep in a tub of Ben & Jerry’s? 

Okay, so I’m exaggerating a bit, but you can’t help but be just a TAD offended over the internet (THAT NEVER HAPPENS!) THANKS, YA BUTT! …

But waaait. Stop and think about what you’re getting a little razzed about… A photo on the internet you happened to be in and now you are not… 

So take a deep breath, and always think of the positive… Like when a friend DOES change their profile photo, and YOU MADE THE CUT -literally!

You get all happy and want to do the best friends dance…

So go change your profile to you and a pal if it isn’t already! and spend a few hours editing all the cropped photos you have done already where you SHAMELESSLY CUT YOUR FRIENDS OUT OF YOUR LIFE

- I literally knew this guy for 12 hours, BUT HE STILL MADE MY FACEBOOK PROFILE CUT because he was a rad dude!!1!11

A group of friends and I made planeswalker costumes last year :) enjoy! To see more of my costumes, go to https://www.facebook.com/pages/Dara-Defreitas-Cosplay/106592116060765

Looking back on one of the greatest fears of my childhood

...To me, teenagers were what clowns and the dark were to most children that age: what I feared most. I hated them for how they looked and acted. I hated them for the disrespectful words they hurled around with seemingly no consequences. I wondered how they got away with all those things...

“They said all teenagers scare the living shit out of me. They could care less as long as someone'll bleed‟. So darken your clothes or strike a violent pose. Maybe they'll leave you alone, but not me.” – My Chemical Romance, Teenagers

Many times I blared that song in my first car, my tank, a maroon LeBaron that, despite its age, had a killer sound system. One summer day I had my windows rolled down and was driving at a hazardous speed. I was paying more attention to the people flying by than the pavement in front of me.

I didn't care about the glares I caught from gawking women tending to their precious gardens as I whizzed by. I certainly tuned out the voice in my head of my mother screaming, “Turn that damn awful music down!” I loved that music and that band in their dark, mysterious and defiant clothes. Their black-rimmed eyes and stained lips were sexy, despite the fact they were men. I loved the reaction I got from my parents when I cranked that music. I reveled in the way the lyrics told anyone that didn‟t understand us to go to hell.

A few years later when maturity won me over, my mother and I were able to have a conversation without firing hurtful comments at each other. We were reminiscing about the years before I cruised in that LeBaron. Years when Spice Girls ruled the airwaves, and black eyeliner was for women and drag queens only. Years when I was terrified of teenagers, whom I saw as stupid and rebellious.

“Sweetheart, did something happen to you when you were younger to make you feel that way toward teens?” She asked hesitantly.

“Mom,” I would say rolling my eyes, patting her hand reassuringly. “You asked me that then, and I still have the same answer years later: Nothing happened!”

The Evil Confronts Me

I don't know when or how it all began. I was about nine when I noticed my hatred and it lasted for a good three years. I don‟t have a sob story about abuse that led to the agonizing fear that crippled a large portion of my childhood. There wasn't a defining moment that made my heart sink at the glimpse of a teenager. I remember at times, refusing to leave my castle to visit any other castle in fear of bumping into a scary punk kid. I did whatever it took to avoid those living monsters who roamed the streets day and night, all day every day.

Those horrifying creatures would loiter around my neighbourhood convenience store, which I often frequented. But they could not keep me from my treasure that waited inside. They were the armoured force I had to break through to get safely inside the castle, the comforting stronghold where the clerk – who shared the same views as I about “the evil” crawling outside – would stand guard and come to my aid should anything happen.

The reward for successful entrance into the castle was my favourite mouth-watering orange slurpee and a bag of ketchup chips that danced and celebrated victory on my taste buds. But I knew better than to rejoice and lavish in my spoils too soon.