Today I pestered Ellen into taking me out to the army surplus store in Belltown — where I paid cash dollars American for items that, if I’d thought to ask for them sooner, my dad could’ve probably pulled out from under the bed and mailed to me for basically nothing.* But DragonCon is right around the corner and time is short. Costuming waits for no one. So I’m now the proud owner of a kicky Red-Cross-style canvas medic bag, a tin canteen, an assortment of field pouches, and more.

Why? Well, I’ll tell you — and as soon as I do tell you, I’m bound to get a dozen emails and comments arguing with me, but here you go: Because I was thinking about all things steampunk (I might as well; I’m doing another panel on it this coming weekend), and for some reason the idea of character classes came bouncing around in my brain, and I realized that in all my steampunk wanderings I have noticed many mechanics … but virtually no medical professionals of any kind. No doctors except mad scientists, no field medics, no nurses, no midwives, or helpful therapists.

Ergo, for my second evening-running-around-dressed-up outfit for DragonCon, you’ll be seeing me dressed as a beleaguered post-apocalyptic Victorian nurse. And if you’re about to guess that I might consider writing a story based on such a premise,** then you would not be too far off base.

Anyway. I’d continue to gush about the shallow fashion details, but I want to haul out my bags o’ steampunk hardware and noodle with the finer points of the outfit. Also, I think I’m getting hungry. Maybe I should make supper first. Mmm. Supper…