Sept. 13, 1944 - aka I've been reading too much WW2 history

To my dearest, 

Winter has come and it’s turned frigid. I long for our time together and your warm embrace. While you fight in savage lands, far away from me, I oft think of you. Is your work going well? Is the government working you too hard on these progressive projects? Are you lonely in your bunk at night? Do you think of me? 

I am lonesome without you here with me. I have stopped having cocktail hours, even though you made me promise to continue without you; it’s too much to bear. After my day in town, I seem to only muster enough energy to read by the fire. I am distracted all day at the bakery, daydreaming of summertime, picnics on hilltops and bike rides in the country sides. My focus only becomes acute when I hear the radio with news. I know you have told me that you are not too close to the front lines but I still worry so.

Until that day, I humbly wait for you, bandaging young men’s wounds, baking bread for the wonderful people here and helping out the best I can. I will meet you in Paris on the day of liberation, which must be soon or I will dry up from all the tears I’ve shed missing you. 

With all my love,

Pixie

Hollyweird, Hollywonderful

Say what you want about Hollywood, I love it.

It's shallow, fake, full of itself. But I'm not interested in all that. I love the weird. The crazy mysteries and strange circumstances. The history! So many stories.

So last weekend, to soak up some of the weird during a less than exciting job interview, I ventured upon the Dearly Departed tour. Now I'm not a 'tour' kind of girl. I don't want to have the same experience/pictures as 10 other people who all have to share a bus. But life is short so I signed up and did I picked a good one!

Death, betrayal, broken hearts, love, hate, weddings, babies, theft, madness, nostalgia and fun all in one little van.

Join me, won't you?  For the next few posts I will share the gruesome knowledge and creepy fun that is Hollywood!

Maybe they did see demons...

Being a young girl in 1692 must have sucked.

There was little frivolity, no dating, little free time and defininatly no dancing naked in the woods. (What? You didn't do that when you were a kid?) Actually, even being an adult wasn't a barrel of monkeys either. Escaping from persucution tends to make one more fervent in the thing that makes you persucutable. They were dedicated and rightious. The puritans forbade dolls, toys,  music, anything thought to be wasting time and even celebrating christmas. The only school was bible school and 3 hour sermans at least twice a week. To say some maybe have felt oppressed is a bit of an understatement. Some 'acting out' was bound to happen.

Two young girls in the settlement, Abigal and Betty, started to act strangely. They screamed, wailed, barked. They threw things around the room. They complained of being pinched and scratched. They would fall to the floor and freeze in a twisted position. They would speak gibberish and scream about demons. All around strange behavior for puritans. But an obvious answer to this insanity... no, not insanity. The devil. Oh, excuse me, I mean, THE DEVIL! (cue dramatic music, flip the lights on and off, gasp in apparent horror.)

So I'm sure you know this part that comes next. Lots of finger pointing, more fits, trial after trial. Then bad things.

Sidebar: I've known my fair share of preacher's daughters. They are rarely a complient bunch. At least one I've personally known has become a porn star. Well, of the online only variety, but I think that still counts. I obviously wasn't there in 1692 but if I know one thing, a repressed youth will react drastically if pushed hard enough.

Maybe they just wanted a little fun in their not-so-event-filled lives. Fun that lead to 20 deaths. But perhaps they weren't just being little brats; perhaps it was something no one thought of... mold.

Ergot. It's a type of fungi that grows on rye and related plants. They have a wide range of effect on humans, from circulation in the limbs to neurotransmission.  Ok, that doesn't seem so scary... Well you would be wrong. Think blackened limbs, hallucinations (which leads to irrational behavior), and major and minor seizures. Did I happen to mention the severe uterine contractions? I know that makes me act like a severe bitch regardless of consuming ergot.  Oh, and it's a analog to synthetic LSD. So there you go. Good reasons for the demons.

There have been lots of conflicting back and forth about this and who's to say what happened. Not me.

Perhaps the devil did make them do it.

O Christian Martyr Who for Truth could die
When all about thee Owned the hideous lie!
The world, redeemed from superstition's sway,
Is breathing freer for thy sake today.
--Words written by John Greenleaf Whittier

Red Flag Infraction

I hate my wedding.

Me. 

It hasn't even happened yet and I hate it. I have been through venue after venue. (estimating about 75+, actually visiting 10.) I have been to 6 cake places. I've been to 3 different bridal salons.  I've made so many phone calls I've lost count.  I've spent hundreds of hours on the computer researching, doing the math, calculating our budget, guest list, gathering pictures and deciphering themes. I have spreadsheets, pdf, psd, abc123. I've been on the hunt for wedding toppers, bouquet flowers, hair accessories, invitations, table toppers and shoes. I've read at least 5 different books front to back about planning my wedding. And after all of this, I've got NOTHING. Goose egg. Big fat zero. I'm farther away than when I began almost 4 months ago.

There are so many considerations, nay-sayers, exceptions, minimums, maximums, constraints, time limits, and special circumstances, that I can't even pick a napkin color without a red flag being thrown! I get nothing but why we can't, with no suggestions or ways to make it work.

And everyone has a damn opinion. My mother, who always has an opinion but gives it lightly, has flat out refused some of the decisions I have made. My friends have been no help with appointments or research. Wedding colors, venues, budgets, caterers and yes, even my beloved wedding dress, all have been shot down. All the while, my guest list gets bigger and bigger. I am all alone in this and I'm being crushed under the weight of it all.

I can barely remember those happy, warm, fuzzy kitten feelings I had at the beginning of all of this. "Yay! I get to pick whatever I want! I get to plan a big party for all the people I love most! Yay!" Sitting on a couch while my favorite music played, sipping a martini in a beautiful Galina wedding gown, while my favorite people relax and enjoyed themselves. Sounds lovely, doesn't it? Yes. Yes it really does. It did.

I just want to get married! I just want to marry the man I love the most in the whole world. Is that so hard? Yes. Apparently.

I'm so tired of it all I want to throw up my hands. I give up! You win! No dream wedding for me! No romantic happy moments for that girl! BAD! BAD BRIDE!

(Commence the throwing of rotten fruit at the girl in the white dress.)

Can you see my nipples through this nipple bra?

I took this picture the other day at Victoria's Secret.

So much for that elusive secret...