Klingons and Kittens.

I'll actually brush my hair on the day.

 Finally finished the costume.  I seriously think it was cursed.  I present the evidence bullet point style (never mind that the so called evidence is really just me not being very good at this sewing business):

• Massive failure at reading directions had me not placing a piece on the center fold that really needed to be there.
• Of course the fabric shop had only just enough yardage of the original material for the pattern, so emergency trip back to pick out a new one fabric and buy plenty.
• Actually get to turn on sewing machine go to start and I manage to epically botch up first bust dart.  Stitching refuses to be picked out.  Try for a while, Mater tries for a while then informs me that she's only succeeded in making a hole.
• Mater entirely takes it over at this point and when I came back the next evening she presents me with a mostly constructed dress.
• That, despite my measurements firmly placing me in a size 14, is decidedly sack-like.
• Mater takes it in an ungodly amount.

At that point, while I know more things went wrong-ish someone who actually knew what they were doing was now totally in control.  Which is why I have a costume at all.  I went and bought a huge red t-shirt with the idea that if I couldn't get it together and make the dress I could do a little t-shirt surgery and have a (ridiculously short) back up costume. 

I think when Mater saw what I had in mind she decided that she had to do everything in her power to save my dignity.

She insists that she was enjoying herself and that it really was no problem that, despite how gung ho I was about making the dress myself, she was in fact doing it for me.  No one was exactly shocked that once again Mater came to my rescue when my ineptitude got the better of me but this time I honestly did try.

Here's what I managed to do all by myself:

Oh yeah.

 Yes, I successfully cut out a bit of felt and glued on some glitter.  It's like I'm some sort of wizard, I know.

And now the question is, what shoes do I wear?  I have two options: flat leather boots courtesy of Kate, or traditional go-go boots inherited from a drag queen after her last performance of Proud Mary.  I think the flats look better, but they've not got a lot of traction and what if I have to run away from unfriendly aliens?  Or, more accurately, disgruntled comic shop staff trying to get me to stop drooling on the Absolute Sandman display case.

Oh did I not mention?  The party I'm going to, it's at my local comic shop.  And is a midnight write-in for NaNoWriMo.

Yeah.

At any rate, shoes.  Option one:

After years of wearing heels flats feel unnatural.

Option two:

Go-Go-tastic

And now, kittens.  This is Charlie, the tiniest, loudest, most pathetic of kittens.  I kind of love him, even if he won't shut up ever.  And is in the middle of the gross kitten phase, where he makes an absolute mess of himself eating but doesn't know how to bathe himself yet.

Food-y Face!

He's really needy, so we see this a lot.  He's seriously undersized for his age so he sort of has this little big head thing going on and his face is all ears and eyes.  I think he's the best.

In other kitten news, Penny and Bianca are still hanging around.  Really hope they get adopted soon, because the older they get the less interest they'll have.  Which is sad because they are some of the sweetest, most loving kittens we've had.

Snuggling at the adoption event.

I mean, look at them.  How could someone not want to take one of these ladies home?  Bah.  I'm surprised they're still with us, their brother went the same week he was up for adoption.  Hopefully the adoption event tomorrow will go better than they have been.  Why does no one love kittens this month?