#babscon 2015

[heartthatwontquit]

This moment

Oh my god this moment

This is the best.

[ponyconblindbagcommissions]

“Zecora's potions are too strong for you traveler” Drawn by  BerryPAWNCH at BABScon 2015

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[ponyconblindbagcommissions]

“Pinkie pie sneaks off to her closet where she fuels her fetish of bubble wrap” Drawn by  BerryPAWNCH at BABScon 2015

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[thenewgraymare]

BABSCon 2015- Part 3

A slightly older version of myself is standing at the front door, waiting for me to park. As soon as my car is turned off, Susan opens the door and releases the canine portion of her furry herd. Within moments, my car is surrounded by joyful barking and wagging tails.

I’m laughing at the six dogs crowding around my door while she makes her way over to give me a hug. Walter is the easiest to see because of his gargantuan size. Opening the door reveals Flea, Beans, Happy, Greta, and little Toady. Even Norbert slipped out, despite his recent ACL surgery.

“Look at your car!” She eyes the impressively packed vehicle and shakes her head, amazed at just how much I managed to fit in there. “What all needs to come in?”

We grab the cooler, my laptop, and backpack of clothing before heading inside. Shrimpy and Squeege, two of her seven cats are sitting on the kitchen counter to welcome me back with a loud “Maow!” and purring head-butting.

Happy, Greta, and Toady are new additions since I visited last year. I spend some time admiring the impossible cuteness that is Toady, a daschshund/rottweiler cross puppy. She’s going to grow up to be a red copy of her mamma, Greta, with short legs and a surprisingly hefty body.

“So, you ready to get dinner?” Susan grabs her car keys.

“I’m starving. Where are we going?”

“I told you; it’s going to be a surprise!”

I keep guessing at favorite restaurants during the drive. White Fence Farm? No. Casa Bonita? No, not that one either. Tamale Kitchen? She doesn’t know where that was or if it’s even still there. Finally, I land on it- New Happy. New Happy is the best Chinese food I’ve ever had in the entire United States; considering I’ve been in 44 states, that’s saying something. Every Chinese restaurant I eat at is measured against that one; so far, they have all been lacking.

My ex-husband texts about whatever episode of Trailer Park Boys he’s watching. At first, I’m surprised that he’s still contacting me; then, I get an idea for the perfect response. He has no idea that I’m doing this trip. Neither Susan nor I are selfie people, but we make an exception and take a selfie of the two of us while waiting at a stop light. No comment is needed; the photo is enough.

She takes an earlier exit off the freeway so we can drive past our old house. It was recently on the market again, so we have no idea who is living there now. A Latino family is out front, working on the yard. Our old neighborhood has become predominantly Mexican and it’s no surprise that a Mexican family would have purchased the house. I’m happy to see how good the place looks and how much they obviously care for it. Two new trees have been planted in the front yard and our boring, old wooden front door has been replaced with a knotty pine one with a gorgeous, beveled and etched window in the middle.

As we turn down Dartmouth Ave, I ask to stop at the library. We tried to go in the last time I was in town; they had closed ten minutes before we got there. This time, they’re open and I’m finally able to set foot in one of my favorite childhood haunts. I haven’t been inside the Bear Valley branch of the Denver Public Library since I moved when I was 15. The outside looks exactly the same-- like some sort of medieval fortification with gray, concrete walls that curve straight up and two window slits to light the interior, curved stairway. Some remodeling has taken place inside; the ceilings feel much lower and computers have replaced several bookcases. What used to be the ‘teenage’ reading section is now home to music and movies. We go upstairs to discover the same metal bookcases and even the same uncomfortable chairs from seventeen years ago. It’s now possible to go outside onto the rooftop patio area; neither of us remembers having access to that before and we would certainly have curled up in the sun with good books if given the opportunity.

Satisfied with our trip through memory lane, we cross the street and visit New Happy. I almost don’t even want a menu, but I accept the one offered to me anyway. We browse through; but, I know what I want. We’re given enough time to change my mind from chicken chow mein to shrimp chow mein.

Dinner is excellent and we spend the time laughing, sharing each other’s food, and catching up. Water chestnuts and turnips artfully carved and dyed to look like flowers adorn our hefty plates of food. Those edible pseudo-flowers are one of the things I’ve always loved about New Happy. That and the plastic beaded lamps that line the wall. Dinner is only interrupted once with yet another text from the ex; he’s happy for me and thinks it’s awesome that I’m hanging out with my sister.

After dinner, Susan and I walked on over to the Goodwill next to New Happy. I still think Ace Hardware should be there; but, who can complain about a thrift shop taking its place?

We wandered around a bit before finding the ultimate treasure in the back of the store— mannequin legs. No upper portion, just legs. I’m sure our wicked smiles were the mirror of each other as we silently agreed that we were going to do something amazing with them.

Susan jumped up on a ledge and stood behind them, covering the crotch and pretending they were her legs. I took one perfect photo and burst out laughing. When I showed it to her, she joined me in almost uncontrollable laughter. Another customer wandered over, trying to inconspicuously figure out what was so amusing. We politely pointed out the bare, plastic legs in their half coffin of a box. She looked at them, perplexed. When I offered to share the photo, she agreed that they were indeed amazing legs.

In an attempt to quiet ourselves, we left the mannequin parts behind and shopped around some more, all the while quietly giggling and occasionally whispering “legs.”

Susan found a z-lite backpacking mat and did a super happy dance that it was only $4. She’s wanted one for years but didn’t want to pay the $70 they cost at REI. I claimed the mess kit that was next to it for myself. This thing is the exact same as the one I used as a Brownie and Junior in Girl Scouts. My parents have that mess kit somewhere in their basement and I know I’ll never see it again. Besides, it’s always a good idea to have something to eat out of in the car!

The toy section is barren of My Little Ponies or anything I would want to restore or resell. There’s a cute, fluffy, white thing that Susan likes. It looks like some sort of cotton ball alien with gigantic eyes, hug-me arms, and a Snork’s antenna sticking out of its head. Not-So-Scary Monsters is embroidered in blue on the bottom. Three dollars is a bit much for a novelty item, so we leave it behind.

“Do you remember that movie where the guy had a lamp that looked like legs?” Susan asked me.

“Yes!” My eyes lit up as I glanced to the back wall of the store. “It was A Christmas Story.”

We almost run to the lamps, inspecting the shades and trying to decide which one is the best. Most are boring old, off-white covers that are torn, stained, or flat out ugly. Then, lurking at the very end, was the perfect shade. The brown, ruffled and ribboned shade sat atop a ceramic vase doing it’s best to appear from the Ming Dynasty.

After freeing the shade from the lamp, we practically ran back to the legs to create our masterpiece. The feet are supposed to be in heels, so they don’t stand flat. We’re both loosing it, laughing so hard at this falling skirt-lamp shade that we can barely figure out how to keep it upright. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a man sitting on one of the couches, laughing as well. I smile at him and continue with the crazy antics.

A funeral wreath holder tripod was commandeered as a stand to keep everything upright. Once we balanced the shade on it, we worried that it looked too much like some weird tutu. That Not-So-Scary Monster popped into my head and I ran back to the toys and came back with it. By this time, another woman had joined us in the corner, sharing in the merriment. When I hold up the white fluff ball, she smiles and says it would work better if it were black. I shrug and set it on top of the skirt. The lady laughs and says, “That’s not where I thought you were going to put it.”

By this time, we’ve attracted a crowd and are worried that we’re going to get kicked out of Goodwill. Who wants to be banned from the land of half mannequins and camping gear? So, we take it all down and head to the front, giggling madly. As I’m standing in line, Susan suddenly bursts out laughing, throws her mat at me, and says she’ll be right back. I’m trying to play it cool while looking over my shoulder to see what she’s going to do.

When my older, and supposedly more responsible, sister returns, she flashes her phone at me to share what she did. The legs were left hidden amongst the pants. The next time somebody is looking for some new blue jeans, they’re going to find a surprisingly realistic treat waiting for them.

[ponyconblindbagcommissions]

“Applejack catching Bloomburg making out with Groot” Drawn by: mittymandi at BabsCon 2015

Also with the addition of the commission she donated an additional dollar to the BlindBagCommissions Children Cancer Funds. Thank you for the awesome OC, George Washingpone

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[thenewgraymare]

BABSCon 2015- Part 2

Going to bed on time has never been within my capabilities. I’m always convinced that I could do just fine with a few hours less sleep and a little more time on the internet or crafting.

Considering how messed up everything had been leading up to BABSCon, it’s not surprising that I didn’t have as much product made as I would have liked. I found five miniature bottles in one of my art supply boxes and knew there was another pack of eight in my glove box. Making thirteen parasprites would be well worth the time spent. So, in my stubbornness, I stayed up until 2 AM sculpting, painting, gluing, and chatting with friends on a live stream.

Morning found me groggy and unprepared. I decided to sleep in as long as I wanted and to hit the road whenever I woke up. After all, I had plenty of time and it’s never a good idea to start such a long trip already tired. I rolled over and indulged in another four hours of rest.

Packing clothing was pretty simple; all I had to do was grab a bunch of pony shirts and roll socks and underwear into neat little bundles. Two pairs of pants would be enough for the whole trip. Did I really want to take my paints with me? Yes, I decided, I did. Every show I’ve taken them to has seen some random instance where I was the only one with art supplies and could do an on-the-spot commission or repair something for someone. How about my weekly planner? Would I really need that? It couldn’t hurt; the planner has important phone numbers written down and could come in handy in case I loose my phone.

I’ve sold at dozens of conventions over the years and have loading my car down to something of an art. The sheer amount of stuff that can be crammed into a Toyota Corolla would shock even a hoarder. Normally, I have to take everything out and rearrange it two or three times to get the maximum amount of items in. This time, every box fell perfectly into place with not a spare bit of space wasted on the first try. In fact, there was even some space in the trunk where I could fit a few more things. Even more exciting was the fact that I could see out all of my windows; normally, at least the rear window is blocked and a good portion of the rear passenger seat windows are too.

Content that the car was as loaded as it could be, I hopped in and began running the last of my errands. Cash was picked up from the bank, the apartment key and instructions dropped off at work so Dan could get in and take care of my cats, and a quick trip to Shana’s. I picked up a some plush ponies and glitter Funkos from Shana to sell for her and carefully fit them into the open space in the trunk. One last stop to drop off some books that would come due at the library while I was away and my errands were over.

It was already three o’clock in the afternoon— much later than my anticipated departure time of noon. Worry that I wouldn’t make it to San Francisco in time began to creep into my stomach. A short pause to concentrate on three, deep breaths brought me back to the present. This trip was supposed to happen and everything would go exactly as it should, whether I fretted about it or not.

I drove onto 270 and made it to I-70 easily. Putting on some music, I entered the flow of the drive. Waze, my GPS substitute app, said I would hit Kansas City around midnight. That would be a good place to stop for the night. The app was shut down so I wouldn’t eat up all of my data plan on the way to the convention. After all, it wouldn’t be needed; as long as I stayed on I-70 all the way into Colorado, I’d get there.

As anyone who has ever done a road trip knows, construction is inevitable. Somehow, through the miracle of timing when I left, I was through Cincinnati before rush hour started. I hit Indianapolis after their rush hour. All of the orange barrels sat at the side of the road, waiting to be moved at a later date.

The thrill of how easy the drive had gone and, possibly, a little adrenaline, kept me energized all the way into Kansas City. I was feeling great! So, I kept going. Why not cover as much ground as possible while I was still awake? Susan had suggested Lawrence, Kansas as a good place to stop.

I made it into Lawrence around 1 AM. Sleep began sounding like a really good idea; however, I was loath to stop at a hotel and spend money. Funds were tight enough as it was and I didn’t want to run out of money before I even got there.

My dad has always traveled a lot. There’s no doubt that I get my love of adventure, sightseeing, and driving insanely long distances from him. When I was a little girl, he’d be out of town five days a week, driving the western half of the US to sell steel and mining equipment. He’d send me post cards from the different places he’d visit, like the Excalibur hotel in Las Vegas, or a wooden card featuring otters from Seattle. He would always tell us that it’s never safe to stop and sleep at a rest stop; the best places to doze if needed are Walmart parking lots or a hotel parking lot. If it came down to it, a busy gas station would be acceptable.

Heading my father’s advice, I decided not to stop at a rest stop for the night. A billboard proclaimed the Budget Inn to be only $40. I knew it’d be a run down, dusty, old trucker’s stop; but, it was cheap and it provided a safe place to sleep. The bed was lumpy and I could hear nose from the interstate. Sleep was slow in coming but deep when it did.

Feeling surprisingly refreshed and awake, I made some hot water for my tea and retrieved my bagel and cream cheese from the cooler for breakfast. Waze said I’d be at Susan’s house around 2 PM. Not bad at all! I eagerly got on the road again, stopping only to fuel up.

After several hours, my legs began cramping terribly. Signs for a Kansas Artisan and Craftsman store had been enticing me from the roadside for a while. That sounded like as good a place as any to pee and get some blood flowing again. The shop turned out to be full of things I had no interest in buying; although, a wooden sign proclaiming I’m a few bolts of fabric away from an episode of Hoarders did make me think of my mom. Just before I decided to hit the road again, I saw the jellies. The homemade rhubarb jam caught my eye instantly. I love rhubarb. The strawberry jelly I’d brought with me surely wouldn’t last for the whole trip; besides, it would be nice to have a different flavor. I splurged a whole $8 on that jar of jelly, determined to enjoy every little bite of it.

A sign proclaiming Welcome to Colorful Colorado felt like an old friend greeting me after many years of absence. Home. I had finally reached my home state. I may have lived in Ohio for the past seventeen years, but I will always call Colorado home. The uninterrupted views of high plains with a mountainous backdrop still regularly show up in my dreams. This is where my spirit belongs. It’s too bad I’m only spending the night before moving on again.

Somehow, I’ve lost a full two hours to filling up and bathroom breaks. I finally reach Susan’s house at 4:20. There’s something ironic there, considering Colorado just legalized marijuana.

As I pull into her driveway, a thought hits me. I just drove 1,200 miles and didn’t hit construction once.

[ponyconblindbagcommissions]

“Celestia & Luna must prevent unicorns & pegasus’s from breeding with each other” Drawn by: petirep​ from fimflamfilosophy at BabsCon 2015

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[chichiai]

Heya dudes~!

for those of you who didn’t get to see it during the con, my set for NEIGHhem just got put up online~! so for those of you who wanted to see it but didn’t get the chance go right ahead and watch it :D

also, big shoutouts to baschfire for DJ my set and making it sound awesome and to Rebecca Soichet for Singing with me on my love is no disguise!

hope you dudes like it ^^