Darn Oscars

I drew a picture of Shirley Temple.

There, I said it.  I just spent ten minutes failing to come up with an opening sentence for this post.  

I drew a picture of Shirley Temple and entered it into a contest. 

There, even better.  Using "and" as the conjunction, I've gotten my complete thought across the web to you this evening.  Though, you're probably watching the Oscars what with all the prestigious announcers and long flowey dresses and Leonardo Dicaprio who just happens to not ever have won an oscar.  So don't pay any attention to me.  I'm not important.  Eat your pizza and laugh at Ellen's jokes.

I'll just sit here, alone, with Shirley, and be sad because I can't eat your pizza.  

Catastrophe's Result

I have returned!  I'm floored by how quickly this month has gone by.  Our entire family was hit with the flu at the beginning, so that cut off a couple weeks.  My youtube has been neglected, my blog has been sad, and my poor dolls have sat on the shelf unnoticed.
That is, until now.

Today, after cleaning my room, I had a brilliant idea.
"Why not tear all my doll clothes out of their neat little spots and take some pictures."  Great.  What a smashing thought.
However, it wasn't a complete disaster.  I managed to locate several items I'd given up as "gone with the wind."

Oh, hello Kit's Rick Rack Dress.  So good of you to stop by.

Customly made by my dear mother, starring Caplin. 

So that was that.  I thought I was done.  My one outfit had been found, my doll had been posed.  My room was an earthquake surviver.  

I had fulfilled my duty.

But...but what about the other dolls?  What about the million shirts and pants and shoes that could be made into new outfits and new photos?  

It's not fair.  I had so much to do, yet this little voice kept shooting my brain with guilty signals.

You've neglected them for so long.  Play.

I began to feel like Andy at the end of Toy Story 3.  

Alright-fine-okay-swell.  I'll play.

This outfit is beyond my favorite.  It is sky high and outta here.  Her suitcase, the penny loafers, the sweater...I'm in love.

Ru was walking a dog, but he ran out of the picture.  Sorry little Bennet. 

I love this one of Ramey, however.  Except for the brown dent in her head.  Funny, because my girls never had any dents until Christmas of last year.  And now...now three of them are sporting scratches and face plant engravings.  

Ha!  I made it through an entire post.  Oh, I learned how knit this month.  Just thought I'd throw that in there.

Syddie

Low Key Lighting

I don't pretend to know nothing about lighting.  It just comes naturally.
Honestly though, I'll latch onto an idea of how to make a photo look groovy, and then stare blankly at my keyboard while trying to come up with what tutorials to search for.
Excuse me.  I just ended my sentence with a preposition.  For which tutorials to search?  Whilst searching for with which the light hath come?  With tutorials?
Never mind.

Besides, that's what big brothers are for.  They know stuff.  They look things up and buy things and have things.  Mine happened to have a couple lights on hand, and I happened to stumble (very accidentally) across a term called "Low Key Lighting."
Picture a scary Hitchcock movie scene at night.  Dramatic, contrasty, and very dark.  Lovely, don't you think?  That's low key.  It's much more interesting than high key lighting which looks like a toothpaste commercial.  Bright background, bright smiles, bright teeth.
I prefer the former, and tried a hand at duplicating the effect.

Her face is a bit too bright in this one.  Too reminiscent of Colgate.  

I love the above, however.  The colors are muted just enough.  

You're thoughts on my experiment?  I'd love to hear a second opinion, considering mine is slightly biased.

A Chicken in Saddle Shoes

Life is wonderful.  Yes, there's the occasional kiss from a 10 year old boy on a roller coaster, and those Algebra 2 tests that phrase things just to make you  pull out your hair, but despite that, I'm quite happy.  

You see, I have saddle shoes.  And a chicken.  

So go try on your saddles shoes and hold your chicken.  You might find out that life is wonderful too.

Deerstalkers are Cool

I had the vague dream this afternoon that I might be able to actually clean my room.  All hopes came abruptly to an end, however, when I discovered some old poster board behind a bookcase.

Never mind.  I didn't stumble upon anything.  I just didn't want to be my own maid.

These pictures turned out beautifully, however, and I'm quite liking my new mix and match wardrobe.  Cozi's sporting my deerstalker cap.  Mumsie made it for them last year and it completely delights me.

The sweater was a Christmas gift, as was the blue shirt she's wearing underneath.

The skirt is from American Girl Mia's Meet outfit, the leggings from Lindsey's Meet, and the boot from  ebay seller.  

Yes, she did change sweaters.  How very quick of you to notice. 

The red seems a bit too red, perhaps.  But that's why we're here, right?  To bring a little color to the world?  Yes?  

In other news, my birthday is Sunday.  Yes, sweet sixteen and never been kissed.  

Actually, that's not exactly true.  6 or so years ago I was kissed on the cheek at the fair by a random ten year old boy I met at in the line for the roller coaster.  He was very odd, and I was quite afraid we'd have to get married.

We didn't.  

Enjoy your weekend of bliss and no homework!  Specifically biology.

Syddie

Happiest of New Years to You!

Hello to you all!  Let me wish you a very Merry Christmas and Happy New year in one dramatic swoop!

Now that we've got that over with, I'll bring you up to date with more important things.
Me.
Such as my very own hippy pappy bthuthdth thuthda bthuthdy.  It is quickly approaching, and to be fun a spontaneous, my family took a road trip up to AG place yesterday to gaze upon the new blond beauty.  Ahh yes, do excuse me.  I suppose you wouldn't know who I'm talking about since there are so many blonds already.
Her name is Isabelle.  That better?  Good.
Though she does have hazel eyes.
Curly hair?  No my dear, that was Lanie.  She was thrown into the archives years ago.  You're getting quite confused.  Let me clarify.
This one is a dancer (Yes yes, I know Marisol); a ballerina working her way up in the world of the arts.  Her mother restores ancient artifacts (how positively exciting) and Isabelle designs her own clothes.  At nine.  And then sews them.
Her father spends his days at a hospital and directs his very own jazz band on the side.
And you'll never guess what she named her cat.  Oh.  Oh you knew about him.  Well never mind.  At any rate, the white fluff ball didn't come home in my shopping bag.
Still, all of this could not keep me away from snatching up the newest vinyl smile.  The sparkliest gold shoes.  The designer herself!

Her name is Izzy and she doesn't like cats.  No questions.

To be perfectly honest she's quite allergic.
Did any of you brave the stampede of screaming girls to bring your very own Izzy home?  Do tell all!
-Syddie

My Life's Story (of the past few months)

I have missed you all so terribly much.  It pains me to see how I've neglected you so.  But when life interferes with my budding writing career, how can I merely wave it aside?
Enough.
Let me bring you up to date.
Since I left you, I've gone through my Sherlock phase, my Firefly phase, my River Phoenix phase, my Tap Dancing phase, and I've currently reached the Leonardo Dicaprio status.
Don't worry, I do this every year.  It's what gets my through Algebra 2.  We've also added three little chicks to our flock.  Well, not chicks (anymore), more like over exuberant boosts of life.
Firstly, a Barred Rock named, what else?  Sherlock.  She's curious, wonderful, and just laid three eggs in the past 12 hours.  I'm currently looking up why.
Next in the pecking order is our Rhode Island Red, Shrink.
I didn't want to name her that, so my mom said it would be her standby title until we found something more suiting.
We didn't.
She's our bright, spritely girl with about as much pluck as you could dream of wanting in a chicken.  I love that darling.
And last, there's this Ameraucana named Mitzie.  She's afraid of the dark.  And the light.  And Sherlock.  And noises.  To escape her fears, she jumps onto my back anytime I'm around.  An adorable sweetheart; yes.  But I do way more laundry than I prefer.

We still have our old three girls too.  Tillie (7 year old Ameraucana) is brooding like crazy over the new arrivals. She feels that nobody loves her, and goes off sulking whenever she can.  Millie is a dear, as always, and MayBelle is...herself.

From the beginning of June to the start of July, I had an awful case of the flu.  And for roughly a month afterward, I was still coughing (which was reduced by eating violets and chickweed.  Yes....) and needing to sit down every five minutes to preserve my delicate state.  But, to keep me amused, I entered our library summer challenge.  There were over two hundred projects to completely, one of which was "Make a maze for your pet."  I happily did so.
Millie was a champion, making her way through the difficult task.

Then there was the other challenge.  The "make 1,000 cranes challenge."  You have no idea how much persuading it took to get my mom hooked on that one.
I wanted to do it because it was something that no other challenger in their right mind would do.  I would get up at 6:00 AM and fold cranes on my bedroom floor for four hours every. single. day.  Mumsie took pity on her poor daughter and consented to making a few.
We reached 1,000 within a week.

All in all, I won the grand prize, and I had never felt so lucky in my life.
I placed fourth on the leader board, but the real winner was drawn from a hat (out of the top 30).  On that fateful day, I was chopping onions.  I heard the phone.  I didn't move.  I continued chopping onions.  Oh how little did I know that I would soon become the owner of; "an iPad!  You won, Sydney!"
Needless to say, with those words crackling over our deranged answering machine, I stopped chopping onions and quickly picked up the phone.  The lovely librarians presented me with my treasure a week later.

And that has brought us to now.  I have procured a Zooter (a ritzy kick scooter that can be served as a dignified form a transportation) because my brother got one.  He begged me and my mother to buy our own so we could all go on a family zooting.  Dear old dad didn't buy one, but I have a feeling that won't last long.

I know this extra long post has made up for the ones I neglected to write over the summer.  Thank you for your understanding.  And do post comments! Which do you like better, River or Leo?
Syddie