Week of February 28, 1999
Send This Pretty Young Thing of a Bastard an Email--And Beg Her To Make A Home Page!
After a bit of a hiatus, I bring you a new bastard (thank me later). I must say, Ivy-Solstice is one of the most unbelievably intelligent high school students I've ever met. She's my youngest Bastard yet at only 15 years old, but one would never know this by looking at her photos or by having a conversation with her. I'm not an advocate of cluttering up the net with yet more shrines to Gothiness, so it's no small compliment when I say that this young woman really needs her own home page on which to express her thoughts and publicize her writing.
I'll quote from her own bio and let her introduce herself in this manner:
I think I was a born Goth. When I was four I told my mom I wanted to spend my 16th birthday in a graveyard. And being that i havent even REACHED said birthday I suppose I must be the youngest VHB yet(yay, go me:)). In my pre-teen years (oh, how incredibly LONG ago that was. HA!:)) My "Gothnicity" was somewhat misdirected, causing me to dedicate my life to studies of the paranormal (I was gonna be a parapsychologist when I grew up... think Ghostbusters without the jumpsuits). Around the time when X-Files arose, I grew deeply disgusted with the field and denounced it for life. Presently I'm in 10th grade (still enslaved by the educational institution.. High School IS Hell on Earth) And my hobbies include: Poseur Bashing, wiping my wannabe groupies off the soles of my combat boots, and planning harsh comebacks to the obligatory "goth-bashing" I ::ahem:: "suffer" from all those (simply terrifying) mainstreamers ::shaking in her fishnets::.
Funny, literate, and bitchy. I like this girl a LOT!
But wait--we haven't even discussed her Vampire Hunting Method! Once again, I'll let Ivy-Solstice speak for herself:
I'll hang out in front of Hot Topic, and wait for someone to buy those lovely little fake fangs. My victim has been chosen. My obviously Gothy attire will camouflage me, being that I AM, after all, standing outside of Poseur-Goth central. He walks out of the store, I make my move. A few flutters of the eyelashes, a bored-looking glance and he's sucked in. Ha. He thinks I'm interested. I begin a nice, normal conversation to make him comfortable (i.e.: feign interest in his vampyric hobbies, such as coyly inquiring about, "do you REALLY drink blood? I think that's sooo kinky") and soon he's wrapped around my devious little finger. Then suddenly a perplexed look crosses my face. I look toward the skylight in the roof, and back at his uncovered eyes.. "Errrmm... waaaaait. If you're a vampyre... where're your shades? Everyone knows sunlight's lethal to, umm, 'your kind'..." He suddenly looks uncomfortable. a sweat breaks on his paler-smeared forehead. "Umm, I--well, I mean, it's--see, we.." he clears his throat and suddenly it dawns on him as his entire sense of "reality" suddenly runs screaming away. His feeble mind can't handle such a drastic turnaround, and he perishes of heart attack right there in the middle of the mall.I just laugh coyly, step over him daintily, and walk off into the sunset. My job here is done.
*rofl* This is just lovely! I'm telling you, we need more young people like this. Miss Ivy is proof that there IS hope in Gotham yet.
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