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I Wail And I Gnash and Still the Dogs Howl.

Previously posted by at Blissimo.

tik tok 1 
THIS is a really sad day for me and not just because one of those crazy adult colouring ladies escaped with her felt pens and doodled all over Blissy … but with awesome technique … I would like to point out.  I  mean, if she were to post it in on one of those Facebook colouring groups, she would get soooo many “likes” and “loves” and maybe even some weeping.  IF they have added that emotion yet.  You know, the Italian mother kind of weeping when they child decides to become a priest or a nun or something.
It is a sad day because of the dogs next door which are howling in sorrow and sadness.  Don’t argue with me.  I have recently found out I speak animal . ..  and I don’t even whisper when I do it.  I figure those whisperers are just a bunch of fakes, afraid to speak out loud, because it is easier to smudge over a mistake in whisper talk than it is in real, loud talk.
You can shout out “chicken shits” right here if you like.  It will probably help you get through the rest of this post if you release some of the tension.
There is a big dog tied up outside and two little dogs locked inside and they have been in that state for almost 10 days now.  Their family has deserted them.  As in, I think they are divorcing.  I only say that based on the evidence presented to my non dead body which I excuse because it hears even when I have not commanded it to do so and sees even when I am not looking to see THAT.  I am hoping once I die, that whole condition will clear up.  ANNNNNNOY-ING!!
The 4 year old called the daddy type guy by the same name the mommy type called him when they first move in.  The mommy type would go “Geooooorge … I SAID, Get your ass over here.” (I’ve changed the names to protect the innocent).  And George would not come.  So then the 4 year old would flounce over to the door, hand on hip in perfect mom imitation and scream , “GOWWWWGE … I THAID, Get your ath over here!”  And she would add a foot stamp which I have to say was pretty effective and the mother could take some tips from the kid.  Over the weeks “GOWWWWWGE” evolved into “Daddy.”  I mean for the daughter, not the mommy, at least the mommy didn’t call him that anytime thant I could hear.  Hmmm maybe I am getting better and was actually able to not hear when I did not intend to listen.  Health can happen like that … just sort of sneaking up on you and making your well even when you did not expect it.  It is either that or I am dying faster than I realized and that part of my body is dying. You know like how computer screens do … they cut out and come back on , and work for a bit and then not and then one day they are just completely gone.   
Continuing with the complete conjecture on what happened next door … then there was all this yelling and swearing and asking of “what happened to the last $ 40 I gave yo?”  Followed by, “the baby needed diapers you dumbass.”  Oh ya, there was a baby too.
Then there would be the sound of doors slamming, a truck revving its engine, and someone going to the pub for a long long time, several times, over and over again.
Lots more yelling and not being around.
Also a bunch of dogs living there.
And a cat.
And there was playing in the yard, and having the dogs inside and playing and talking and hey, it was a family.
And then suddenly there were no people there, at all, and just two dogs locked inside and one tied outside and then dogs barking and the dogs howling.  And I began to speak with the dogs.  Thank  heavens I did not have to run with them because being half dead as I mentioned earlier, the running part is definitely already gone.
I had to phone someone and in the end, no-one really can do anything about broken hearted dogs except go “awww” and “that is sooo sad,” and “what a shame,” and “poor dogs.”  It is like being at a funeral for your grandmother except without the casseroles and stale cookies.  I mentioned that to the RSPCA lady that they should include that in their next fund-raising budget .. the need for stale cookies at least.  The lady tried to comfort me with information about what a starving dog will look like and act like.  I consider it really helpful to now know when they all stop barking, it will be a sign that their distress is acute and death is near.
I have never attended a dog death before and I resent the fact I am witness by virtue only of the placement of my office.
You know if there was a choice in Facebook for “wailing and gnashing of teeth” I am pretty sure it would get mucho action right now.  You should see the wailing and gnashing that went on with all of us on the phone.  Yhe RSPCA people care but they are not allowed to just rescue animals.  They have to try to be nice to the people first.  They also did not want me to get killed trying to help the dog.  I agreed with them that was probably a good idea.
They can break in if the dog has been neglected – but that means it has to be starving to death and not groomed.  The dog has short hair.  It comes pre-groomed.  She told me if it was starving, it would not be barking.  Howling is a sign of emotional distress.  I told my hubby that we should enjoy the barking, night and day, constant, endless barking .. because it means the dogs are ok.  He wanted to know if after another 4 or so days of this, if anyone would come to rescue us.  I told him no, people have pretty much burned all their charity bridges.  But I promised to check on him regularly if he was being too quiet and that I would dig him a hole somewhere under something because we might be dead but we could help to build a bridge before we go, that might make the next person who dies of endless dog barking and howling.
I don’t think it made him feel any better.
I tried telling the dog that he was better off without that family and that he should find a new family, that really appreciates him. 
The dog tried to bite me. 
If he bites me we can rescue him.
So no-one cares if his heart is broken, he has to suffer it out, but if he goes ballistic and bites me, they will come and get him and take him somewhere that he will be fed and put with other dogs and have human interaction.  Then they will give him drugs and put him to sleep.
I plan on biting people once they start talking about putting me in a nursing home because no-one knows who I am and my family have all moved away and changed their names.  They will stick me in with all these old ladies named Deb and Susan and Linda and Diane.  Biting people so they put me to sleep seems more humane than eating liquid steak and  jello, sharing false teeth, and being forced to make paper mache  jewellery boxes.  I don want to learn how to square dance and be made to watch video’s on gender reassignment and why it makes sense when you consider we outnumber the men by about 9 – 1.  I’ve already handed my gender in.  I would need to be branded Switzerland in the assignment debate … or the Sahara Desert depending on the religious views of the person creating politically correct terms for that year.  I don’t want to fight for anything when I am old.  And I don’t want to be left like these dogs next door with some idiot saying there isn’t anything they can do on account of I am still barking and I brushed my teeth.
So ya … look at Blissy’s face, aren’t the colours pretty?  
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SKIN:  New Faces  Laura
PARTS:  SLink
HAIR: rezology   Crimped
EYES:  Egozy.brown baby
LASHES:  Essences Perla
JEWELLERY:  Meva Round Plate Set Brown
NAILS:  Slack Girl ::SG:: Neutral Nails SLINK
DRESS:  [LIZ] Mesh Crochet mini dress [Blush]SHOES:  :::ChicChica::: Kika Nude
LOCATION: Everlong
  


Visit http://bliss-imo.blogspot.com/2016/06/i-wail-and-i-gnash-and-still-dogs-howl.html for original post date.

It Could Be Bigger Than “Old Yeller.”

Previously posted by at Blissimo.

itdon2 
There were abandoned farms and businesses all over the prairies.  City kids had playgrounds and community centres and sports complexes … we had old barns and abandoned buildings.
The first thing you did when you found an old building, was move in and stake your claim on the new club house.  Someone should do some serious investigative study on the correlation between farms kids and their old abandoned buildings and bike gangs and their club houses.  A lot of the same dynamics were definitely at play.  The places were dark, there were tables and chairs made out of old boxes and equipment, there were club insignia on the wall and the members sat around and drank.  In our case it was pretty much Fanta pop when we could get it, the occasional coke, and a lot of Kool-aide.  Someone was the leader and the rest of us were followers.  We weren’t happy about it, but we were there none the less.  It beat talking to the cows.
Also we did not have hookers even though Donna Peterson did grow up to be a hooker.  In Grade 4 she had not yet chosen a career path and still hoped to one day grow up and work the french fry station at the famous Peter’s Drive-In.  Even if she had identified herself as a hooker at that age, trust me, none of the boys would have known what to do with her anyway.
itdotn3 
If we had motorcycles, we would have used them.  Instead, we had bikes, garden tractors and of course … always cows.  We hid them in the grass so no-one would know we were there.  Well, to be fair, we hid the bikes and the garden tractors .. the cows never stayed put.  People could see the cows but no-one cared about them.  They were blending cows … they just acted normal and blended into the scenery.  
We were always vigilant about making sure everything about the club-house was secret.  God forbid someone should find out about us sitting around in the dirty, dark, old abandoned building and show up and try and . . . sit … with us … in the dark dirtiness.  We had secret words, secret codes, secret hand-shakes and membership was very exclusive … once we found anyone who even cared enough to want to be part of the group.
We imagined we looked awesome … like Bliss in these pictures.  We hung around and tried to look tough.  I was big into trying to look beautiful.  I admit the old abandon houses were a bad influence.  I tried a lot of things in them . . . like make-up.  I was out of control.  But let’s be honest, there was only so much that lee jeans, a hoodie, and a ski jacket could convey.  Still there were lots of hook ups in those early gang beginnings.  It was like everyone instinctively knew that the farm gene pool was shallow and the swimmers few and far between and we all felt an urgency to start early and hope for the best. The boys thought they were tough but the biggest fights were actually between the girls … over the boys.  Our biological clocks were set off at about age 5 and we were prepared to take the competition out if we had to.  It was survival of the fittest.  We all wanted a kick ass farm when we were through school.  
I guess I was kind of a pimp.  I tried to sell off my brother.  I showed pictures of the farm and the awesome couches and the new colour TV.  I wanted cash, or at least a bus ticket.  I even tried some of the make-up on him.  I beat up a girl to try and make her take him.  
Sometimes, when we drive by the country and I see old abandoned buildings, I get kind of nostalgic and wonder about those olden days when we were pretending to be gangs and acting like we were special.  I wrote most of the kids I used to hang out with letters after I left and told them they weren’t . . . special, that is.  I felt it was important to put aside childhood things as per my Sunday School lessons and dive straight into the realism of adulthood.
I told the cops where all the bodies were buried and mentioned that Donna was a hooker.
itdotn4
I was never quite sure why I was never invited back to any of the school reunions.  For all I know, some of them are probably still meeting in the old abandoned garage.  It was the best clubhouse and was close to the school.  We used to hid out there instead of going to class and I am pretty sure some of the kids are still there.  I don’t think they know that class is over, in fact school is over, and everyone else has gone home.  That’s what happens when you miss math class long enough that you never learn how to tell time.  Maybe it is enough to live in the dirty dark and have secret hand shakes.  Maybe they are happier there than the rest of us.

Wow, did you have any idea how sad this post was going to end up being?  I am crying right now … for the sort of sad beauty of it all …. a lost generation … in the old abandoned buildings on the prairies … living in the dark.

Where the hell is Disney when you need them?

SKIN:  New Faces – Brittany  [Summer]

PARTS:  SLink
HAIR: rezology  Volpe
EYES:  Egozy.Eyes Intense
LASHES:  Essences Perla
DRESS:  PaperMoon -Desire Slip Dress –  Red&Black
SHOES:  LEGENDAIRE GAGA HEELS
JEWELLERY:  LaGyo_Mareille earrings Set Gold
LOCATION:  Umbral


Visit http://bliss-imo.blogspot.com/2016/06/it-could-be-bigger-than-old-yeller.html for original post date.

It’s A Desert Out There.

Previously posted by at Blissimo.

pvl2 
I feel my sanity slipping away.  It is either that or I have become more objective in my self-observations.  I have no idea why, when I turn on the light and it does not work, I flick the switch off and on several times as if there is a possibility that I have done it wrong or that maybe if I do it in a certain way, the light will come on.  I like to think I am an enthusiastic optimist and refuse to surrender to “no can do” in any form.
Ya, let’s go with that.
The most annoying thing though, is that the voice inside my head that is laughing at me, is that of my mother’s.   When did I record that, to carry with me through the rest of my life?  When I packed my things to leave home, who put the tape recorder in??
pvl3 
Do we ever escape our childhood?  Family can be like a giant octopus that is forever reaching for us to pull us back into the total dynamics of the past.
I phoned my brother the other day and it was like we were transported right back in a nanosecond.  We both assumed our roles and carried on accordingly. 
Basically I called and his wife answered and I asked for him.  
“Is Biff there?”
“No, sorry, can I take a message?”
“I could call back, is there a good time to call him?”
“Can I ask who is calling?”
“His sister.”
The voice dropped immediately.  “Oh.”  Like she had just stepped in dog crap and realized she was talking to Satan, both at the same time.  “He should be in for supper in about an hour,” said like she resented having to make the extra effort to breathe more just to speak them.
“OK, thanks, I will call back then.”
S I L E N C E ….
Although I usually take advantage of prolonged silence to relax and meditate, or to hunt for my sanity, I decided to forgo it this time.  I tucked my yoga leotard back down into my purse,  “Alright then, thanks, see you, bye.”
“Bye” 
Is it possible that the dead can speak words?  Because I swear her voice was stone cold dead.  Not that we were ever best friends or that she ever indicated that she was happy that I was alive and infringing on her air space, but I could tell there was a human being behind the tone of her voice.  Had she died and no-one had told me?  My brother did love to stuff his prey … he had bears and wolves all over the house.  Nothing says “w3elcome, isn’t this homey?” like a bear standing on its hind legs, mouth open in a roar, teeth barred, claws raised.
When I called back about an hour and 45 minutes later, my brother pretended not to know who was calling.  “Who is this?”
“Your sister.”
“Oh.”
I was calling from Austalia.  I had not talked to him in 3 – 4 years.  I could be 503 and not have heard his voice for centuries and I would instantly know it was him if he called me, but then I pay attention to life, even annoying life.  He clearly blocked it out.  Well, me, anyway.
It’s amazing how it takes a nanosecond to be transported right back to your childhood, complete with all the sense memory and the desires.  I had forgotten how much I often wanted to punch him.  I wandered the house, phone stuck to my ear, searching for a pillow I could strangle. 
There is a reason we never speak. 
It works.
I said some stuff, he said some stuff, I don’t think either of us made any sense or carried any kind of intelligent thread.  We were just throwing words into the ether waiting for enough time to pass so we could politely disengage ourselves from this embarrassing whatever it was and get back to our lives, pretending this had never happened.
We hung up.  
pvl1
I went out to the light switch and stood flicking it off and on until I felt better.  Even though the light never came on. it helped me feel normal again.  There was no light.  I knew how to fix that.  I could unscrew the lightbulb.  I had money.  I could buy a new one. 
I am pretty awesome.
And then I had a long bath in bleach.

All better.

SKIN:  ^^Swallow^^ Sarah 08

HAIR:  [ Love Soul ] Hair*107*White Blonde
EYES:  Egozy.Eyes Intense
LASHES:  Essences Perla
MAKE-UP:  EYESHADOW – #adored – last night – smoke pack
GLOVES:  Indyra
TATTOO:  [White~Widow] Suspicion – Black
VEIL:  LaGyo_Melissa Fishnet headpiece
BOOTS:  ODDITY OVERKNEE -Shiffer- Leather Lace
DRESS:  V.e. Dolly Vintage Dress Violet
POSES:  Niqotine (NLA)
LOCATION:  Umbral


Visit http://bliss-imo.blogspot.com/2016/06/its-desert-out-there.html for original post date.

We Aim To Serve and Protect.

Previously posted by at Blissimo.

Imipw2 
I did a drive along with some cops once as part of a community awareness.
I can’t help it if the cop’s perspective of the incident was all caught up in the legal documents that said it was court ordered, in the hopes of helping me change my ways before it was too late.  I have my own perspective and it is my story and I am choosing happier meanings and outcomes so that I will not be all bogged down with negativity that makes me have cancer because I hold negative energy in my body.
Neither do I want to be the butt of those feel good posters that say get rid of the people who always bring you down with their sad stories.  So I just close my eyes tight and click my heels and imagine unicorns and rainbows and sparkles and you would be amazed what an awesome life I now have.
lmipw6 

The ride along was an act of community service on my part – to bond with the police and understand their missions.  I had a bag of donuts, a thermos of hot coffee, and some cuddle toys in case they needed a time out.  I also had a clipboard and a number of suggestions to make.
I had a list of names of people because I wanted them to stop by their houses so I could write them tickets.  I just needed to borrow a jacket, a hat and one of their guns.  Police officers are not good about sharing their guns, I really think that explains a lot.  I had a lot of tickets I wanted to hand out and as long as I was doing a service for the community, I figured I could also take care of some lingering issues for me.  I am a woman after all, and multi-tasking is what I do. I was even being sympathetic to the police.  I knew they did not have tons of time to hand out these kinds of tickets.  That is why I was there, to help them help the community.  I would hand out the tickets and I just needed a drive to the houses, some clothes . . . and their guns.  I would even forego the clothes.  Just give me the guns.
 I figured the fine for being a douchebag to me in Grade 2, should have been at least 80, 000.00.  Again, consider the kind of policeman’s ball that money would buy.  Altruistic me, again!   They told me there was no douchebag law, let alone a fine structure.  They questioned my proficiency with a gun and I pointed out that if they ran and I had to shoot them, missing several times just gave them more opportunities to realize the seriousness of their actions and to surrender.  It was a humanitarian thing.  If I managed to shoot them first time, then they could rest assured God had spoken and their douchiness had been reported by the angels. The police locked the doors in the back of the car and closed the cage window.  Am I the only one that sees the cracks and understands WHY the world is increasingly becoming more lawless and out of control?
How many people might have been stopped from a life of crime had they been ticketed with douchebagginess in their youth?  How many others might have been kept from snapping and going postal had someone douchebag ticketed their tormentors at some point?  It would have been evidence that the police cared and then people might not have ever taken to calling them “pigs.”  It is a rule written somewhere that people who lash out are usually those who have been themselves, victimized.  “Pig” callers are just wounded victims of unpunished douchiness and the police are to blame for that.  It is the vicious circle of relentless douche which is much more moving and powerful than the Circle of Life, and you would see that if we could find some majestic animal to stand in silhouette on a mountain while someone sings a moving song about it.  It would help if Disney backed it too.
While I am at it, I think it is really rude that officers treat their patrol areas like one big theme park and the people are all petting zoo animals roaming the streets.  Cops think they can just stop and “pat” us whenever they want.  At least when they have petting zoo’s with animals, the animals get fed and “petted.”  We just get beat up or tasered.  Hardly seems fair.
Anyway, I tried to build a bridge between the police and the community.  I suggested they smile more,  get some new animals to ride, maybe camels or even an elephant, instead of just horses … to keep the community interested you know.  I thought it might be fun to have a jumping castle at the police station so while people are waiting to be processed they could work off some of that pent-up, drug induced energy.  People are less likely to hit one another, or to throw their faeces when they are laughing and having a good time.  Besides, jumping builds strong bodies and who can’t use more exercise in their health regimen these days?  
Police officers could have dress up days and they could pick a theme for the week or something.  It would be really cool to see them in one of those two people get-ups . . . like a horse or a dragon.    And puppets, think how much easier the arrest process could go if you have a cute puppet helping to put on the handcuffs?
I had some really awesome ideas on that trip.
lmipw4
I think about these things because I care.

And also because sitting in my jail cell, waiting for my arraignment, there is not a lot else to do.  Jumping on the other prisoners does not have the same effect as the jumping castle.
SKIN:  .::WoW Skins::. Ramona Bronze
HAIR:  Paperbag.Twigs Hairbase
EYES:  Egozy.Eyes Intense
LASHES:  Essences Perla
OUTFIT: ** DIRAM ** Sophie outfit
SHOES:  BAX Ankle Boots Black Patent
LOCATION:  Playa Flamingo


Visit http://bliss-imo.blogspot.com/2016/06/we-aim-to-serve-and-protect.html for original post date.

All Hail Evolvement and the Unencumbered Breast.

Previously posted by at Blissimo.

rsm2
Recently there has been a lot of arguing about the validity of bras.  Some are suggesting they are unhealthy for women because they restrict the lymph nodes and cause congestion which can cause some other serious health problems.  Others say that we are all just a bunch of stupid prudes and we should grow the heck up already.  One man has even done a study to show bras cause more droopage and nipple displacement than going braless does.
Of course, the lingerie makers, lead by a very angry, heavily armed bunch of angels and their fearless leader Victoria the Boulder Holder, are contesting all the ideas and insist they will never give up and are prepared to fight to the death.
I have a million questions:
1.  I wonder if the newly enhanced silicone army will be as enticed to enlarge their breasts if there is no longer any packaging to display said boobilage?  Sometimes a present looks much prettier all wrapped up with ribbons and bows than once it is opened.   Is a boob anything without the packaging?  Consider perfume in your pondering.  What IS perfume without the pretty bottle?
2.  What will we fixate on if we breasts lose their mystique? We can’t go back and reinvent the wheel.  Does anything say mommy to men more than a breast?  And if we don’t have it wrapped up in some kind of shrine . . . how special can it be? 
3.  How are we going to properly shame our daughters about their bodies and convey that they must cover up if we un-naughty all the naughty bits?
4.  Can we replace the “breastfeeding in public,” debate with another equally compelling issue that will both be contradictory against women and something that right wing and left winger can disagree on in a way that they feel it to their very soul?  
5.  What are we going to “heave” in all those romance novels?  What is the point in freeing our “milk white globes with their aching buds”  if they have already left the paddock and feeling no pain?
6.  How will the porn industry survive if we normalize the breasts to the status of other body parts?  Think about the strip clubs, the titty bars . . . I am weeping now . . . we will destroy a whole industry . . .
7.  And the most important thing that no-one has even addressed in all of this ….what do women do with the things when they are hanging down to their knees and in the way of everything?  You could frighten some senior and end up unconscious on the ground if you really startled her from behind and she swung suddenly.  Some seniors would never be able to bowl or even golf … they could end up hitting a breast instead of a golf ball.  If they are swimming, doing the back float  . . those things could float off on their own.  And imagine rolling over in the morning to get out of bed and they fall on the floor and pull grandma out with them? 
rsm1
I guess we could say, at the funeral of the grandma who died from injuries sustained when her breast got caught in mixer while she was making the Christmas cake,  “thank heavens at least her breasts were free, she was healthy otherwise, and she did not suffer from lymph node congestion.”  While everyone cheers for the unleashed breasts of the young and nubile – I am not sure anyone wants to see those of the old and wrinkled.  It begs the question, “just because we can, should we?”
SKIN:  .Birdy. Devon Skin ~Butterscotch~ (melon)
HAIR:  rezology Fairytale
EYES:  Egozy.Eyes Intense
LASHES:  Essences Perla
MAKE-UP:
Blush  Modish FaceBlush
Eyeshadow and Liner Elymode summer mix pink lemonade
Lipstick PF Elly
JEWELLERY:  [Pure Melody] Ibbie Set
LINGERIE:  (SELDOM BLUE) PAULA
BOOTS:  *GF* 2013 Valentine Gift Boots
BED:  Tarte
Chandelier:  Apple Fall Pearl Chandelier


Visit http://bliss-imo.blogspot.com/2016/05/all-hail-evolvement-and-unencumbered.html for original post date.

Resting Bitch Face – My Story.

Previously posted by at Blissimo.

bbb2 
Resting Bitch Face, let’s discuss.
I used to get yelled at all the time for not smiling more.  I was a kid of the seventies, living in a world where there was war and discord.  Women were burning their underwear just trying to get people to care about the fact that they were pissed about not getting the same opportunities as men.  People were having sex in the parks, with everyone else.  People were doing drugs.  People traded in their souls for Rock and Roll.  Elvis was hip swivelling and people were looking. 
I didn’t do drugs.  I was not having sex.  I was not burning anyone’s underwear.  I would have been happy to have a bra, I certainly was not going to burn it when I got it.  I was never into Elvis.  I was a straight A student who went to church every Sunday and sang in the choir.  And the tragedy was, according to my grandparents, I needed to smile more. 
Or I was probably going to hell.
It was a wonder they did not call for an exorcist.

There were lots of older ladies who did resting bitch face, long before it became fashionable.  You should never point that out to grandparents when they are lecturing you about looking happy.   “You should make an effort to smile more.  People will think you are not happy.  They will think you are an unpleasant person and they won’t want to be around you.”  Hey, superman had his powers, I could repel idiots by not smiling.    I pointed out that Mrs. Miller and Mrs. Black never smiled and no-one was up their case because of it.  Those two were on every committee, and involved in everyone else’s business and no-one left them out of anything.  What if I wanted to grow up and be just like them?  Fine, upstanding, well bra-ed, women of the community that they were?
They kept pointing out other kids and saying things like, “look at her lovely smile, Cheryl is such a happy girl, always smiling, no wonder she has so many friends.”  I told them that Cheryl was smiling because she was high and that she was so popular because she was having sex with everyone, including some of the other girls who were smiling.
When they didn’t lay off I tried burning my bother’s bras in protest of the way they were treating me.  I clearly did not understand the proper method of underwear burning protests because I got sent to a special wilderness camp to find God that summer.
That summer changed me. 
I came home and I was smiling. 

The camp director, a 30  something hippie type minister from Eastern Canada, and I had sex the entire summer.  It was pretty awesome. 
bbb1
You really have to treasure life lessons like that, even if they were tough at the time . . . so worth it in the end.

HEAD:  [whatever] Ellie Mesh Head

MESH BODY:  Maitreya Mesh Body – Lara
PARTS:  SLink
HAIR:  Tableau Vivant \  Aku
EYES:   Egozy.Eyes Illuminate Turquoize
LASHES:  ATIA’s
DRESS:  !:Lybra:! Gloria (Verde Blu)
EARRINGS:  Zaara : Sarika feather earrings *azure*
PURSE:  // SEUL \ Monogram Tassle Satchel
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Visit http://bliss-imo.blogspot.com/2016/05/resting-bitch-face-my-story.html for original post date.

Bright and Bold.

Previously posted by at Blissimo.

lst4 
Awhile ago I posted a pic on social media of a fabulous group of older ladies dressed in an explosion of colours and patterns and styles.  Loved it.
I was surprised at the reaction it evoked.  Along with many who felt as I did, there were those who thought it clownish, a joke, and a tasteless display unbecoming for older women to adopt.  Someone remarked that older people are invisible no matter what they wear. 
I put my glasses on.

lst7 
Maybe that is the point, to make sure we don’t go silently into the night, but that we make sure everyone knows we are still here and very much alive.  I want to be an older lady who dresses with my own sense of style, choosing vibrant colours and mixing patterns and breaking all the style rules.  I have always gone against the grain and made my own way.  I hate things that are the same as everyone else.
I was born this way, my grandmother was always telling me to, “stop it, people are staring at you.”,  STARE AT ME!!!  At least you won’t forget me.
You can try, won’t happen.
We try to make people disappear.  If you are a large woman you get a tent dress in brown, black, or puke green as an option.  If you look in any store you will see fabulous colour and a million styles of dresses for women size 0 – 10.  After that, and the bigger sizes you go, the choices get duller and blander.  Bridesmaid dresses, every colour of the rainbow and all fabrics.  Mother of the bride, tan, pink or purple.   Older women all seem to have boy cuts or tight perms.  Their shoes, not only are sensible but come in one colour … sturdy brown.  Their purses are sensible and brown.
I say no more brown.  No sturdy.  No limit of colours.
lst6
If you find that distasteful you should probably send money to the “save the children of the prairies foundation.”  When you grow up with the Hutterite Colony as your biggest fashion influence, where plaid, polka dots, and flower patterns go with everything, you are bound to be out of control when you escape.
That is my excuse.  I will be bold and loud … right until the moment they throw me to the wind. 
And I intend to talk to Heavenly Father about his obsession with white, once I get there.
SKIN:  Lara Hurley Skin-Gervaise
PARTS:  SLink
HAIR:  *booN SCO052 hair
EYES:   Egozy.Eyes Illuminate Turquoize
LASHES:  ATIA’s Diamond Wings Lashes
LIPSTICK:  * Baiastice_Illegal lipstick Bi colours
EYELINER:  .Birdy. VIP {Eyeliner} Pack of 10
EARRINGS:  Lazuri Cocoa Island Earrings
DRESS AND SCARF:  Ghee aqua.fiesta Milla Top & Scarf
SHOES: GHEE ALEXA HEELS FIESTA BOX
LOCATION:  Lo Lo Lo Lo


Visit http://bliss-imo.blogspot.com/2016/05/bright-and-bold.html for original post date.

Travel Broadens the Mind.

Previously posted by at Blissimo.

rots3
I used to drive the little lawn mowing tractor around the farm and pretend I was in Paris, riding a scooter through the busy streets.
I would shout out “bonne journée” to the cows as I drove by and they would moo at me all judgemental like.  I could tell they were mocking me and saying, “THAT’s not a scooter and YOU are no fashion model.”  I would shout back, “jambes hamburger!” (hamburger legs!)

No-one cared back then that kids got bullied by cows.

I was pretty sure I was going to Paris as soon as I collected enough bottles from the ditches along the highway …. or got enough gopher tails . . . or sold my brother to the circus. 
I was so naive.
Looking back, I blame the cows.  All that methane, made me hallucinate.
But then Bliss came along and she can’t smell so methane schwethan, we are having a ball living in our little world of illusion here.  I like to drive by cows now and flash some of my fashion photography at them and yell out, “bite me.”

rots4
I do that because not only am I a beautiful fashion model now … I am really mature.  That’s what travel can do for you.  Pass the international flavoured tea please.
SKIN:  ::Modish:: Mia Skins
PARTS:  SLink
EYES:   Egozy.Eyes Illuminate Turquoize
LASHES:  MIASNOW Eyelashes – FANTASY CURLS
HAIR:  “”D!va“” Hair “Amanda”
EARRINGS:  LUXE. Tassel Earrings Gold
NECKLACE:  EF:  Benedictine Riata
BRACELETS:  InDyra Earrings and Bangles STACKS
SKIRT:  _CandyDoll_Luna Skirt Aztec IV
TOP:  (fd) Rose Top – White Magic
PURSE:  SHEY Bodrum Handbag
SHOES:  [The Forge] Fluer Heels.


Visit http://bliss-imo.blogspot.com/2016/05/travel-broadens-mind.html for original post date.

I Prefer Stumps.

Previously posted by at Blissimo.

bitd1
You know living near the beach in a freaking hot country brings its own kind of problems.  (You may need to get a hanky for this one, or have a friend there to hold you while you weep.)
In Canada, we worry about things like, “if you don’t put enough socks on when you go outside, you could lose all your toes to frostbite.”  Then you end up with stumps and you walk funny.  People always blamed the cowboy boots and riding horses for the funny way cowboys walk, but the truth is they didn’t listen to their moms, lost their toes to frostbite and now have stumps to walk on.  You try walking in Cowboy boots with stumps and see how funny you look.  (Please feel free to give a big shout out to moms here and the fact they do, indeed, know it all and should be obeyed.  Not MY mom necessarily, but me .. as a mom…)

bitd 2 
And when your toes are freezing to death and turning black, you actually don’t feel it … because your toes are frozen … so it is like your mouth after needles at the dentist, nature appears to be gently taking you in her loving arms (despite the fact she is a mom too and you disrespected your mom by not listening to her, she is so benevolent that she holds you anyway) and shields you from the pain.   She even does it without a needle jab that takes away from the “painless” part of their advertising because the needles themselves hurt like hell but somewhere someone sees logic in saying, “let us stick you over and over again with this huge sharp metal, in places in your mouth where we are probably poking bone, so that we can keep you from pain.”   Ya, you are out there tobogganing and snowmobiling and having a great time and someone says, “hey Bliss, how are your toes?”  You can’t feel them so being as you tucked them into socks and a boot, you say, “they feel great.”  It is only  when you go home and take your socks off and see these blackened lumps attached to your foot, and then they begin to thaw, that you realize that all mothers stick together and Mother Nature was just playing with you in a really sick, sadistic kind of way.  And then your mom follows you around while you are crawling around on the floor, trying to crawl out of your body and escape the pain saying, “I told you so.  Why don’t you kids ever listen to me?”   Even when you have a slight freeze, if you are stupid enough to stick your hands in warm water thinking, “I am so cold, I want my hands warm now!” you will learn about pain that can blow your mind.
That is what life prepared me for.  I was raised by stump people,  so basically, what the heck did I know about beach sand?
I do now.
I trotted after hubby as he walked out to the water.  I had my special shoes on for swimming.  They quickly filled with sand and were half on and half off my feet.   Sand drifts are much less fluffy than snow drifts and unlike boots which can keep snow out, sand gets in everywhere.  I tried to walk with them sliding this way and that and the sand was getting deeper and deeper and my shoes would not even say on my feet.  So I took my shoes off. 
Then about half way between the car and the water I felt the burn on that really tender part of the foot that normally never touches the ground … and the more I ran, the more the sand seemed to mold  itself to that exact spot.  I tried to put the shoes back on but I was standing out in the middle of a whole desert of sand that had been in the sun for a bazillion years and that sand was so hot that I could feel it through the shoes and when it flowed into the shoes they just held the heat right against the spot.  I took them off again and looked at the car, looked at the water and panicked.  I could run to the water and cool them or run back to the car and cry.  And then everything got blurry and I guess I ran to the water because I came to with my feet steaming in the ocean. 
Hubby wanted to know what was wrong.  I looked at his feet and hated him.
And I tried to enjoy my day at the beach, I really did.
bitd 3
But I couldn’t let go of the knowledge I had to walk back across the sand to get to the car and I was not sure the blisters on my arches were going to withstand sand ripping them open and pushing its freaking hotness against the raw skin.
I am beginning to think there may be some organic type reasoning behind why Australians drink as much as they do – snakes, sharks, spider and sand …..
SKIN:  ::Modish:: Mia Skins
PARTS:  SLink
EYES:   Egozy.Eyes Illuminate Turquoize
LASHES:  MIASNOW Eyelashes – FANTASY CURLS
HAIR:  (NO) French Braid Pigtails
BRACELET:  CUFF BANGLE PLATED SILVER       –RYCA-
EARRINGS:  Hatpins Gacha – Rose Quartz Arrow Earrings
DRESS:  SAS – Alexis Pack No. 1 1
BOOTS:  ODDITY OVERKNEE -Shiffer- Leather Lace
POSES:  MiaMai


Visit http://bliss-imo.blogspot.com/2016/05/i-prefer-stumps.html for original post date.

Timeless Fashion.

Previously posted by at Blissimo.

fuy2
Sometimes our moms made us wear pants underneath our dresses when we went to school because none of them wanted to ever have to go to the church weekly “quilting lunch kits for underprivileged kids” mornings and be the woman whose daughter froze to death in the middle of the prairies one winter because you sent her to school with bare legs.  The stigma of that was almost as bad as if you were the one quilter who could not make your stitches all the same size.  They made those women wear a scarlet letter.  Frozen daughters was frowned upon and some of those ladies were power frowners.
I still have nightmares.

And it was always the fault of the mom.  Mom’s are responsible for everything and no-one understands that better than a Canadian woman, hence we travel the world apologizing for everything, to everyone.  
“Hello, my name is Mary, and you are?”
“I’m sorry, my name is Aria.”
“I don’t think we’ve met before, have we?”
“I’m sorry, no, never.”
I mean we went to school on a fully heated school bus with  30 or so other kids.  We went down roads that connected farms.  The airplane had been invented.  People had snowmobiles and phones were on the wall but they worked. 
Most of the kids on the bus were wearing enough clothes that they could take off 3 layers and still survive an ice age without any frostbite.  We could huddle.  We knew about fire and how to make it.  Do you have any idea how sound carries when there is nothing but fields of snow around you for as far as you can see and then some?
I hated wearing pants underneath my dress.  I took them off as soon as I was out of view of the parental units.  If I showed up in school wearing them everyone would have called me a “retard.”  
I find it really depressing that my grandmother was 50 years ahead of everyone else with fashion and that no-one laughs at people wearing pants or leggings under dresses anymore.  I think it is all because we have cell phones and the danger of freezing to death on the way to school is nowhere nearly as bad.  
fuy1
Ya, it is either that or we just don’t care about kids as much anymore.

SKIN:  [the Skinnery] Hilde – Bare face (honey)
PARTS:  SLink

EYES:   Egozy.Eyes Illuminate Turquoize
LASHES:  Tameless Lashes 22
HAIR:  rezology Eunoia (mesh hair)
DRESS:  tomoto, dress charlotte
LEGGINGS:  Izzie’s – Sheer Tights
PURSE:  Anachron – Kinchaku Gacha – Green Hills (6)
SHOES:  SAS – Cheeky Shoe Fatpack (Slink High) – GATCHA
HAIR FLOWER:  Poute– Floret  Hair Clip- White
LOCATION:  Lollygagger Lane


Visit http://bliss-imo.blogspot.com/2016/04/timeless-fashion.html for original post date.

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