Meet Tumble! (Short for Tumble Weed) He is super fat and circular haha. When I had him sitting in my car, he was rolling EVERYWHERE, hence the name Tumble Weed.
Before he was Tumble the WereFurby, he was a reddish orange 2012 Furby. I found him at a Savers last Halloween. His fur was super worn out, he had his tail fur cut off, and a rip in his chest. He was in desperate need of a new fur, and so, here he is now!
I finished him a couple months back, but I didn’t want to post him till he was completely finished XD He needs his ears repainted, and some parts of his face, since some of the paint chipped off. I hope to take more pictures of him when I fix them :) I used Ivory spray paint for his face/ears, felt for his feet, and two types of faux fur that I found YARDS and YARDS of at the thrift store for $6. There is so much, I could possibly make more versions of my Werefuby if I ever find another damaged Furby ^__^
The Universal Day of the Romanian Blouse (Ziua Iei) is celebrated in June 22-24, all around the world.
The Universal Day of the Romanian Blouse has become a truly global event celebrated on six continents, 55 countries, 130 cities, and 200 events. In 2014, the movement grew exponentially, to almost 100,000 members, with an audience of millions of visitors mostly from Romania, the rest of Europe, and the United States.Last year, June 24 was officially recognized by the Mayor of Washington as the “Universal Day of the Romanian Blouse” in the US capital.
The Romanian blouse, ie by its original Romanian name, is not a simple traditional peasant blouse, but it became a symbol of Romania, with its legends, stories and deep significance.The ie (pronounced ee-eh) is a blouse, traditionally worn by Romanian girls and women. And it has overcome its traditional peasant confines, as it became an important source of inspiration for the fashion designers in Romania and abroad. High-ranking names such as Tom Ford based his 2012 collection on the Romanian traditional motifs.
The ie is entirely hand-made from a special fabric called approx. in English ‘sheer lawn’, with exquisite embroideries on the chest, back and sleeves, with designs preserved for centuries.
The signs and symbols embroidered on the Romanian blouse aren’t just random decorations, but each has its own significance, depending on the region, the seamstress, and the person who wore it. Every ie, along with the other items of the traditional folk costume, has its own story. Among the symbols embroidered on the blouse there is the tree or a tree-like design, which is the symbol of life, wisdom and rebirth.The circle or a sunflower represents the sun, day or Divinity; In the Romanian tradition, the sun was at the core of life and was often associated with God and abundance.Other motifs related to daily activities can be found ranging from one region to another: water (either as a river or as sea waves) and fish in the fishing villages along the rivers and sea coast, wheat or corn stems in agricultural villages, wheels or coin in crafting traders’ villages, and so on.At the same time, the colors on the blouse also vary according to the geographic region. Green and gold symbolize the plains, gray, red and brown for the mountains and blue for the rivers.For instance, in the past, young girls from the countryside, who were not married used to wear merry colors on their blouses, combinations of red, yellow, pink and light colors, while the dark ones- brown, black, dark green and gold were usually worn by older women, married and having a certain social statute.
To make up for all the trouble he caused in the previous game, Kirby’s Return to Dream Land, Magolor builds Kirby an amusement park full of challenge stages for him to complete. Once Kirby has made his way through them Magolor challenges him to a race to the finish on a special stage.
The music is a remix of The Lor Starcutter’s theme.
First You Came for the Trans Women: An Open Letter to the Chicago Dyke March Collective
Members of the Chicago Dyke March Collective (CDMC),
am a Jew. I am also the first trans woman to have been a member of
your collective. I am writing in regards to your collective’s
decision to ask three women carrying Jewish pride flags to leave the
2017 Chicago Dyke March.
interest in questions regarding inclusion at the Chicago Dyke March
goes at least as far back as 2009, the year when I became a core
member of your collective. Almost immediately I became concerned when
another core member violated a trans woman’s privacy in such a way
that, had it happened to me, I would have considered it a violation
of my sexual boundaries. In the backlash that ensued after I voiced
my complaint other core members put their feelings before trans
women’s need for safety and scapegoated me. It was only after the
aforementioned core member of your collective violated my sexual
boundaries, demonstrating even to the most loyal member of your
collective that my concerns were justified, that the verbal abuse
subsided. But still no justice. It was nearly two years before
representatives of your collective met with me to talk about what had
happened. Your collective made four promises to me and to Chicago’s
queer and trans community. It immediately kept the only promise that
required it to do nothing substantial—the promise to publicly
apologize. To this day it has not kept its other three promises. But
it has found new ways to hurt me, including publishing personal
correspondence that had the potential to out me. The last time I asked
CDMC about its cascading failure, it gave me no collective answer,
but in 2012 one of its members responded in a way that now seems like
eerie foreshadowing: She said that your collective owed me nothing
because I had already gotten my “pound of flesh”, thus drawing a
connection between me and an antisemitic caricature.
am hardly the only one who wants answers from your collective. Many
people are now asking, “Was the Chicago Dyke March Collective’s
decision to ask three Jewish women to leave the march antisemitic?”
It is a fair question. The political right likes to use
divide-and-conquer schemes to keep us from uniting to confront
oppression. As April Rosenblum argued in The Past Didn’t Go
Anywhere, one of the most successful instances of this scheme has
been the scapegoating of Jewish people to keep us from focusing on
our real oppressors. Blaming diasporic Jewish people for the actions
of the State of Israel is the latest variation on a theme at least as
old as The Protocols of the Elders of Zion.
course not all fair questions have “yes” as an answer. To find
out if your collective’s actions play
into systemic bias against Jewish people
we need to look at the facts. I was not at the march, so I will
charitably assume the
in its statement is true.
wrote, “We have since
learned that at least one of these individuals is a regional director
for A Wider Bridge” (emphasis mine). Does
need to be said that what
you learned about one of the Jewish women after you asked her to
leave the march could not have been the reason you asked the
to leave the march? You also wrote that the women were
Israeli flags superimposed on rainbow flags”. If the flags you were
referring to were like the one seen in a photograph published to the
web site of the Windy City Times
on Saturday, there was nothing superimposed on them besides
Stars of David, making them no different from the Jewish pride flags
I first saw at Dyke March in 2005 (five years before A Wider Bridge
was founded). The Star of David is a symbol of Judaism and my people,
the Jewish people, and there is nothing inherently Zionist about it.
It is evident to me that your collective has put some people’s
feelings before Jewish queer women’s need for queer community.
I find no comfort in
your assurance that “anti-Zionist Jewish volunteers and supporters
are welcome at Dyke March and were involved in conversations with the
individuals who were asked to leave”. For one thing, Jewish people,
including those of us who express our pride through the use of Jewish
symbolism, should not have to be extensively educated on all
political viewpoints before we can participate in an event that is
purportedly for all “dyke, queer, and trans” people. For another,
all too often Jewish people are subjected to a political litmus test
that non-Jewish people are not. (Nobody asked me what my views on
Palestine were before they found out I had Jewish ancestry. Such
selective outspokenness on Palestine does a disservice to both Jews
and Palestinians.) Finally, it reminds me of the reassurances I heard
after your collective violated me—that there were trans people who
nevertheless stood among you. The goal of solidarity is not to
collect oppressed people to insulate yourself from criticism even
while you crush us. Rather, the goal of solidarity is to stand with
all who are being crushed throughout our struggles even while we
resist internalized oppression. In 2010 your collective’s
insistence that I was “welcome” to participate in a march with
people who had hurt me did not stop your collective from violating me again. And
in 2017 your collective’s insistence that the Jewish people you
approve of are “welcome” to participate in a march where my
people have been harassed does not make your collective any less antisemitic.