Jana Remy
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Jana Remy

  • Writing
    • Disability
    • Making History
    • Digital Humanities
      • dayofDH
    • Canoeing
    • Creative Nonfiction & Essays
    • Feminism
    • Bibliographies
      • Pacific Worlds Bibliography
    • Social Media
      • Mentions/Links
  • Scholarship
    • Awards/Fellowships
    • Conferences & Invited Talks
    • Collaboration
    • Workshops
    • Conference Planning
    • Technical Skills
  • Teaching
    • Blogposts About Teaching
Daily Archives

November 6, 2009

on (not) wearing a costume
deep thoughts

on (not) wearing a costume

I had the perfect Halloween costume all figured out for this year. It’s actually a running joke that I should dress up as the heroine from Planet Terror (because of the amputee-thing) and I finally decided that I would take the time to pull the costume together (oh, except that I wasn’t going to wear a bikini-top, because that would be truly scary)…


But I encountered one huge problem…when I went to buy the replica gun to use for my prosthetic leg, I realized that I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t bring myself to actually purchase a weapon, even a ‘fake’ one. I know I’m a sissy…but I couldn’t even let my kids own or use water guns because they represented something that was so violent and reprehensible to me. And there’s something about guns that just repulses me, every deep part of me that cherishes life (even animal life). Even in fun, even as a costume, I couldn’t violate that–I knew if I did I would be betraying myself.

So…no groovy heroine costume. Instead I rummaged through my drawers and came out with a permutation of my usual gypsy-boho-cabaret dancing girl. To a gathering the night before Halloween I wore my favorite corset, a black tutu, and some leggings. I felt completely comfortable and so me. On Halloween itself I wore something very similar, but with an a-line black skirt and a deep blue underblouse…

from the back (taken with iPhone)

from the front

By way of full disclosure: I did shoot a gun at least once as a teen. It’s a pretty vivid memory because the kick knocked me right over (granted, I was doing it while balanced on one leg, so it’s not like I was the steadiest shooter in the West). I think it was my Dad’s shotgun and it was loaded with birdshot.

PS: John was out of town on Halloween weekend, so these pics kind of suck because I was trying to take them of myself…
PPS: I was feeling a bit under the weather on the actual night of Halloween, so after dinner with friends I came home and worked on my dissertation for several hours. I am such a dork.

November 6, 2009
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About Me

About Me

Hi there friend, and welcome to my blog. I started writing on the internet two decades ago. Since then I've started and finished a PhD program, left the Mormon church and became a Quaker, got divorced, remarried, found full-time work in academia, took up rock climbing and outrigger canoeing, and traveled across the globe (China! Belgium! Italy! Chicago! Montana! Portland! Gettysburg! and oh-so-many points in-between). This blog is eclectic and random--it has poetry and cooking and books. And cats. And flowers. And the ocean (my ocean). But in that sense it's a good reflection of me and my wide-ranging, far-reaching, magpie curiosity.

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