What Doesn't Kill You Makes You Stranger

I’m All Alone in Here October 22, 2014

My mother’s house is across the street from a church. The congregation has been meeting there for 176 years, but the church was built in 1880. The original church burned down in 1878.

That was before the town had a real fire department. It was back in the days of ring a bell and everyone comes out with a bucket and hopes for the best. General Brown who owned our house in 1878, heard the bell and ran out to the church, helping with the bucket brigade and leaving his little girl in her room, watching the church burn through her window.

The little girl, Kit, was not pleased. She was not used to being abandoned in the house. So she took her chamber pot and threw it out the window screaming “I’m all alone in here!” Now, no one heard her over the noise from the fire, but Kit did discover that throwing china things out her window was indeed satisfying. She went and got her brother’s chamber pot and threw that out the window, again shouting “I’m all alone in here!” Soon she was taking everything she could find in the bedroom that might make a satisfying noise when it shattered in front on the house. “I’m all alone on here!” Crash!



How to Change into a Victorian Costume in a Parking Lot without Getting Arrested October 7, 2014

Filed under: Starting Off Strange — meganorussell @ 2:35 pm
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How to change into a Victorian Costume in a Parking Lot without getting arrested.

Step one: Put your giant skirt over your head. Sorry boys, you’re out of luck. You have just discovered one of only two times in life it’s better to be a woman. Number one being when trying to get a drink at a bar.

Step two: With your skirt draped over your head, take off all your clothes. It’s naked time!

Step three: Begin re-dressing from the bottom up. While in your dress tent, start with your stocking, go to the petty coats, and work your way up.

Step four: Have a good friend pass in to you your lining for under your corset and hope your nipples don’t show through.

Step five: Pop out of the waist of you skirt and see how many people have stopped in the parking lot and are now staring at you.

Step six: Have someone tighten your corset while you speak in your best Scarlet O’Hara accent.

Step Seven: Have someone paste you into your bodice.

Step Eight: Walk into the ball pretending that you were dressed by four maids in your own personal dressing room.


The Time Transvestite September 29, 2014

Growing up in my mother’s inn was quite the experience. Having a hundred people coming in and out of your home every weekend to participate in costumed Victorian tea programs is not a part of the usual childhood.

My mother has been referred to before as a time transvestite — a person from one time dressing up in clothes from another era. I mean, unless you are the Doctor, and if you are, please come and take me on a nice quiet trip someplace lovely and have me back before tomorrow’s performance, you have to pretend to be in another time if you want to try and experience it. (more…)