Right after that, I ran my bike off a cliff because I wasn’t paying attention. Next thing I know, my bike is exploding, I’m flying through the air, and the cat shows up to inexplicably save me with its magic powers. I thought maybe I was crazy when he first started talking to me, but that all changed when I discovered my own latent magic powers. We flew off into the sunset and that was the beginning of our fantastic hijinks.

Actually, I was a chicken and I didn’t go back to check if it was a magic cat. I was also rather intent on getting that ice cream. I’m pretty sure it was a magical cat though. I stared at him, he stared at me. We had a moment. If I see him again, I’ll know for sure.

I decided the other day that for each new project or craft I want to start, I have to make some sort of blog post first. Later that evening (as I’m working on a project I grandfathered in) I was struck with the inspiration to do a series of little comics illustrating brief moments of life in Japan. And I had a perfect idea for the first comic. It simply and brilliantly conveyed the quirkiness and charm of my everyday life here. I thought to myself, “Geez, I’m ingenious! I sure won’t forget this.”

Famous last words.

In between having this inspiration, and walking upstairs to write it down, the idea completely evaporated, leaving just the barest hint of what it might have been. I had been so pleased with the idea, that I’ve tried all week to recall it. It remains infuriatingly elusive. So instead I made a comic about losing my mind.

On an unrelated note, my apologies to anyone who has tried to comment in the past few months. My notifications system was broken and I didn’t realize it until today. I wasn’t just ignoring you, I promise.

]]> https://jefita.com/2014/07/17/omg-japan/ https://jefita.com/2014/07/17/omg-japan/#comments Fri, 18 Jul 2014 01:06:54 +0000 http://jefita.com/blog/?p=928

So I’ve been in Japan for about a month now. I’ve eaten live fish, nearly made myself ill indulging in Japanese candies and junk food, slept through my first earthquake, and probably unknowingly committed some grievous public faux pas.

It’s taken a little bit to adjust to the fact that I’m actually in Japan and can start enjoying myself. The first week or so was a bit iffy. My cats were imprisoned, I was tired of living in hotel rooms, and it seemed like I might never see the sun. The traitorous voice that is afraid of new things tried to convince me everything was scary and things were not going to be alright.

It was so foggy, the airport was unusable for a week.

Of course, the traitorous voice was wrong. Things have since greatly improved. We found a house (a real full-sized house!) in a Japanese neighborhood instead of one of the American enclaves so it’s closer to everything. The kitties were successfully freed from Guantanameow and have adjusted well to their new home. The sun finally came out and the weather has been gorgeous. All this did a lot of good for my morale and I realized it is in fact pretty damn awesome here.

This is the view from my sewing room!

The only thing missing at this point is all of the rest of our stuff–like all our furniture, the rest of my kitchen, and all of my crafty supplies. I know that it has at least arrived in Japan, but it could be at least a week before it makes it to Misawa and then more to get to our house. That means no real crafty adventures until then and I’m really starting to get itchy fingers.

On the upside, I do have my fancy camera and I sort of know how to work it. We’ve already gotten out and started touring the region. Until the rest of my stuff shows up, I shall subject the masses to my travel adventures and photography.

Just a short update to prove I’m still around. The move preparations march inexorably forward. Packers show up tomorrow. The appliances and big stuff have already been put in storage. Our most valued possessions have been entrusted to our friends for safekeeping. It’s starting to feel like this is actually real.

I’m once again reminded how much I hate the details of moving. Not the part where I end up in a new place, I think that’s fun and exciting. I even enjoy getting to unpack and arrange all my stuff. No, I hate all the parts that come in between, especially packing. Being a packrat, I have to sort through all my accumulated “treasures”. In the beginning it’s cathartic. I start tackling all the rat piles and purge the junk. Over time though, the continual barrage saps my willpower. Why do I have a large collection of pens with no ink? Twenty empty ribbon spools? Balls of thread clippings? Or enough plastic bags to build an effigy of myself? Blaaaargh!

Now I’m just exhausted–even though I don’t have to pack all the things myself. I still have all the post-packing cleaning ahead of me too. And just in case I thought I might not be ready to leave this place, the upstairs apartment once again gifted us with a bathtub of water via the ceiling above our bed–a bathtub of water mixed with bleach…yup, I’m ready to go.

I’m just going to say it now: things are probably going to get more erratic from here on out. And there will probably be some ranting and raving. Hopefully I will make it out the other side with some semblance of sanity.

Now that I have a definite date, I can feel the stress of the move building. Everyday the vague sense of doom gets just a little stronger. It lurks at the back of my mind and in unguarded moments I have flickers of panic. At some point I am sure it will devolve into full blown panic.

I’ve done big stressful moves before. I moved across the country to live in sin with the Boy-who-became-Mister, and I had no idea if it would work out or not. This is much worse. Moving across a huge ocean to an entirely different continent? Where I don’t even speak the language? With two cats? And I agreed to this because I wanted to do this? I might have been misguided.

 Lord Baron Von Partyfoul and The League of Evil

I survived my weekend of villainy, only to be struck down by an unknown malady. Curses! Now that I seem to have made a recovery, I shall continue this tale.

Armed with my concepts I set about formulating the plan of attack. I typically break the down process down into three main categories:

What do I already own?

What can I make myself?

What do I have to buy?

After gleaning what I could from my rather considerable stash (who would have guessed it would be so useful for villainy?), I proceeded to the fabric store to for further resource acquisition. This is always the most dangerous part for me, both for my budget and the space in my apartment. With practice I have gotten better at navigating its pitfalls and emerging mostly unscathed. I try to keep these things in mind and usually end up alright:

•  Start at the remnant bin. Best way to get small pieces of expensive fabrics.
• (Almost) Always go for the cheaper option.  You are making costumes, not high fashion.
• Stay out of the “special occasion” fabrics. Again, costumes, not ball gowns. Unless you are some sort of diabolical debutante…
• Am I going to want to set my machine on fire attempting to sew this? Pleather and slinky knits can do wonderful things, but are tricky to sew. Just keep that in mind.

And as I learned this time, beware the trim aisle! This is where I got in trouble. That big fancy chain on Lord Baron? Twenty bucks a yard. Fortunately I only got one yard, and had a half-price coupon to mitigate the damage.

He knocks the cups out of the hands of society!

Materials acquired, I set to work. I made all the  lovely armour first. I have become quite adept at cereal box armour. It’s amazing what you can do with some beer boxes and some spray paint.

 Next I did all the sewing. Most of it was pretty simple and went smoothly. There were only minor altercations with the sewing machine. A plumbing leak and subsequent emergency rearrangement left my good sewing machine trapped behind my bed, so I had to make do with my mediocre machine. We had a few disagreements. It realllllly wanted to eat the fantastic silver fabric I bought for traffic safety. I realllllly wanted it not to do that. We somehow muddled through it without mutual destruction.

 All told I ended up making:

• 1 helmet
• 2 sets of shoulder armour
• 3 capes
• 2 pairs silver under/over pants
• 1 pair pleather spats
• 1 pair fancy arm guards
• 1 set epaulets
• 4 hench hoods
• 4 traffic safety sashes
• 1 faux fur wrap

And assorted costume assistance for my villainous compatriots. Inevitably I change my designs as I go along, and some elements get left by the wayside. I didn’t do a fancy collar, and I didn’t make boot thingies for my henchmen. I was also too cheap to shell out for red gloves for them. I spraypainted kitchen gloves instead (with mixed results). I did however make a nice fur wrap for myself to keep off the spring chill. I may be a cold-hearted villainess, but I hate being cold.

 The lovely Lady MacDeath and I

 The only things we ended up buying pre-made were some black leggings, a black shirt, rubber dish gloves, and the ridiculously awesome henchmen goggles.

The Lead Hench also got fancy epaulets…and a balloon.

 I ended up spending about $70 on fabric (without coupons it was over a hundred bucks). Goggles and extras probably brought the total for supplies up to around $100. That seems like a lot (and I did splurge a bit and ignore my own advice on a couple of items), but that was enough to make costumes for me, Mister, and four henchmen. Pretty good for budget villainry! I bet would could have afforded some more henchmen. Because you can never have too many henchmen.

I’m pretty sure they’re conspiring to get health benefits.

 (And many thanks to Henchman Frank, Miss Demeanor, and Lady MacDeath for some of the excellent pictures.)

Okay, I’m back! I spent last week down visiting the storied Grandma, down in North Carolina. I thought I’d be able to wrangle out a post while I was there, but as is often the case, my ambition and reality didn’t align. C’est la vie.

While I didn’t get any writing done, I did do a lot of plotting…nefarious plotting.The Mister and I have decided to turn to a part-time life of villainy (this may or may not coincide with a pubcrawl next week). As most of our dastardly plans revolve around making a public spectacle of ourselves (such is the wont of supervillains) we find ourselves in need of some dramatic costumes. Otherwise people might mistake us for regular villains. Or drunken louts. One of the two. Maybe both.

Designing a villainous costume is certainly fun, but it is also more challenging than one might think. You have to strike a careful balance between menace, flair, and utility. There are many important practical considerations that are often overlooked. I tried to address these questions while designing our outfits:

• Will I freeze my a$$ off in this outfit? (or alternatively, overheat?)
• Am I going to lose any parts of my outfit?
• Can I make most of this out of bargain fabrics and cereal boxes?

And perhaps most relevant in this case:

• Can I comfortably drink in this outfit?

After a week of plotting, I think I’ve hit most of the important elements. Of course a super villain is nothing without minions, so I didn’t forget about properly attiring my underlings either. The state of dress of a henchman says a lot about you as an overlord.

So I’ve got my concepts down. What now? Stay tuned for next week when I realize my drawings!

]]> https://jefita.com/2014/03/26/fashion-tips-for-supervillains-part-1/feed/ 1 https://jefita.com/2014/03/12/how-to-enjoy-spring/ https://jefita.com/2014/03/12/how-to-enjoy-spring/#comments Wed, 12 Mar 2014 20:04:59 +0000 http://jefita.com/blog/?p=857 By popular demand, more comics! Pretend it’s on time.

Ahh, the sun is out, the birds are singing, and the daffodils are starting to push their way up. Spring must finally be on the way right? Hahaha, just kidding, it’s just a tease. A cruel, cruel tease.

I’m going to be honest, I’m pretty close to full blown grumpus. If the weather doesn’t stop toying with me soon, I might lose it. I want sunshine. I want to go barefooted. I want to stop wearing pants. Right now it’s a pleasant 65F outside. I can hear gobs of birds warbling and crooning. It smells like spring. Unfortunately, I’ve already checked the weather, and it’s going to be back down to freezing with 25 mph winds tomorrow. Oh what fun! I think I’ll start working on my blanket nest now.

Grump, grump, grump.

True story. Except in reality I spit all over my keyboard. It was kind of gross. This wasn’t my first near-bug-eating experience, but at least I didn’t find out what the bug tasted like this time. (If anybody needs to know what a stinkbug tastes like, I got ya covered. Hint: it’s a lot like they smell.)

Moral of the story? Oreo’s are terrible and you shouldn’t eat them. I knew this already, but now I have a traumatic experience to help me remember.

Also, if you half-ass re-sealing the package, there is a non-zero chance you will end up licking a bug.

It seems like everybody is getting sick lately. Despite my efforts to avoid it, Mr. Boy managed to give me his head cold, icky crud. It’s that lame kind of in-between sick where you feel like crap, but not bad enough to stop you from feeling guilty about taking a day off. I feel like I should be working, but my brain feels all blurry and my face is full of mucus. I finally decided I probably shouldn’t work, because I don’t really want to make germ filled plushies. I just imagined my innocent little creatures going out into the world like so many tiny small pox blankets.

My guilt being assuaged, I decided to fill the gaps between napping sessions by continuing to fill my moleskine sketchbook. Since my attention span is a bit short right now, I’m filling a page with tiny little 2.25″ square drawings. I don’t know if I’ve mentioned it yet, but I am still quite in love with my new markers. It doesn’t take much encouragement for me to break them out and doodle. Even if I don’t feel like doing anything else.

Anyways, Mr. Boy said something about a “chibi Hellboy” and somehow I ended up with Hellboy chumming it up with an octopus. I’ll pretend it’s because I’m sick. Then I tried a self-portrait. I didn’t mean for it to look like I was disgusted at the mushy cephalopod friendship above. It turns out it’s somewhat difficult to draw yourself disapproving of your own hair cut. (I got pissed off at my bangs the other day and because I’m a cheapskate, I trimmed them myself. I have sort of “seventies, Farrah Fawcett” bangs as my friends kindly informed me. I suppose it could have turned out worse. I could have ended up with a Flock of Seagulls do.)

Now I have four more little squares to fill up. Instead of coming up with the rest of them on my own, I’m offering up some little mini commissions.  Judging by the duration of Mr. Boy’s illness, I’m going to be at this for a couple of more days at least.  So for the low, low price of only $5 you can tell me what to draw in my little book for the rest of the week. If you are interested you know where to find me.

I think it’s about time I go back to sleep on the cat. And I swear the next post won’t have anything to do with markers. For reals.