Viva Las Vegas 16!

It was clear last year, but it’s even clearer this year. Viva is an art form of strategy. There’s SO MUCH to do, so much to buy, so much walking, so many people…you really do have to plan it down to a science if you want to get the most out of it. Last year was like a test drive. This year, knowing what I learned from last year, went a LOT better.

First of all we went in a much larger group. Instead of two people, we were about a dozen, spread out over three rooms. This meant that no matter what you wanted to do, there was always someone around who wanted to do it with you. So we got to do a whole lot more of what we personally planned, whether it was clubbing on the strip or checking out a ton of burlesque. Here are some other tips I’ve learned.

-Don’t lose track of the time. Keep serious track of that shit. It gets away from you and then that one-time event is over. And don’t forget to make sure your phone is set to the right time zone! D’oh!

-Travel wearing your largest items, like your crinoline. It’s crazy how much space it takes up in your luggage.

-Bring a camera, or a phone that takes pictures if you’re ghetto. Like me!

-Don’t even bother with pretty shoes unless they’re also the comfiest ones you own. You’ll be miserable. The amount of walking/standing/dancing you do is beyond anything else. The foot pain can get pretty epic. The best is to find ONE pair of super comfy shoes that go with everything from a bathing suit to an evening dress, because then you also save room in your suitcase. I have some leather maryjanes with a modest heel that I couldn’t live without. I packed NO shoes, I just wore those the entire time. No regrets.

-Leave room in your luggage for all the stuff you’ll buy. Making all my crap fit for the trip back home was quite the feat.

-If you can’t stay at the Orleans, try to stay at the Gold Coast, Bill’s Gamblin Hall, or somewhere within short walking distance of these places. There’s a free shuttle to the Orleans every 15 minutes and it beats the crap out of taking the bus or paying for a cab.

We stayed at The Palms across the street from The Gold Coast, and could see – and hear – The Orleans from our room.

-Show up to the car show early. It won’t be as hot, and it makes a hell of a difference when you can quickly get around, take pictures, and get autographs without a big ass crowd in the way. And seriously, if there’s a shop doing a big sale, you’ll want to get there first. I went to the car show on just three hours sleep and nevertheless I’m glad I didn’t sleep in.

-You don’t have to look a certain way by any means, there is no competitive attitude and everybody looks very different (in the same room you might find one girl in glittery evening wear and another in a playsuit). That said, if you have ever wanted to go all the fuck out or experiment, this is the time and place.

-You might decide that sleep is overrated. Bring a flask. Not for alcohol, but for espresso or Redbull.

-Alcohol however, you might decide is not overrated at all. If you want to get drunk on a budget (while eating some super amazing Italian food) go eat at Batista. It was crazy delicious, and your meal comes with unlimited wine. AWESOME wine.

-Once/while getting drunk, drink plenty of water. This goes for all year round.

-If you plan on clothes shopping, it’s best to wear something you can try things on over. Change rooms are very scarce.

-If you decide you like sleeping more than setting your hair, do pincurls. They can last 2-4 days depending on your hair and what you do with them at night. I’m so glad I did them Friday night, because they lasted from 9am car show to 11:30pm burlesque competition easily. My hair still looks pretty good after sleeping on it, the flight, over two and a half hours in the car, and I still have curls on Monday.

-For the love of god bring a sun hat or buy a parasol if you have any plans on going to the car show. It’s the fucking desert.

-Glitter.

And now the final tally!

What we did:

-Shopping. So much shopping

-Relaxed by the pool

-Attended a dance class, at which I was a total fail train

-Went to the car show and spent absolutely no time looking at cars. There was just too much great shopping to be had.

-Hung out briefly with Cholita and Micheline a couple times. They’re super sweet.

-Did a ton of people-watching, because absolutely everyone looks incredible.

-Took in a super fun kickoff burlesque show at a pub, a world class burlesque showcase, then burlesque competition

-Took an amazingly efficient and helpful burlesque class by Miss Karla Joy

-Saw La Cholita and the Kreeps. They’re AMAZING. FYI, Cholita broke her leg in a tumble at the burlesque show on Thursday night, and kept on rocking like a trooper despite being in a wheelchair for the rest of the weekend. I fucking love her.

-Said hi to Tempest Storm

The haul:

-5 dresses

-2 vintage cardigans, including one in hot pink cashmere

-3 flower hair clips

-3 snoods

-1 tshirt

-1 little cherry print duffel bag

-1 signed DVD, Modern Pinup Hair and Makeup by Micheline Pitt

Self:

-About 11 hours of sleep over 3 nights

-About 2 bottles of wine, and a boot full of strawberry daiquiri

-100% foot pain

-Still feeling sore, achy, and mysteriously bruised

-No hangovers

-A tan, no sunburn.

And when I got home, I found this note that had been left for me.

Viva Las Vegas Rockabilly Weekend – Sunday

Oh man, I’m as sick of writing about this now as you are reading it. But for the sake of completion, I’m going to go for it anyway. There’s only one day left.

I love my bathing suit!

Sunday was our second chance to go to the pool party, and today there was a swimsuit contest at the ridiculous hour of 10:30am. Luckily I find that being away from home makes it easier to get up at a normal hour, so we were ready to go on time. Almost. We spent a little too long doing my hair in victory rolls, and fussing over our outfits. I wore the twin to my dress the day before, since that was THE dress I wanted to wear at the pool because of how comfy it is and it’s lack of necessity for a bra, so it was practical. And yet it still took us a tad too long to get there. When we finally arrived after our last shitty long bus and shuttle trip, we found ourselves at the end of another line. LINES! So many damn LINES! You’d think Viva was an amusement park! Well it might as well be…

Finally after what felt like an hour of waiting, which probably was, we got into the pool area. The swimsuit contest had just finished. !@#$!!! Angela insisted on a lounge chair in the shade, and wouldn’t take one in the sun just until one in the shade could be spotted, so with all the people there we ended up wandering for quite a while until finally Mark and Lisa saw us and invited us to sit on some loungers they had in their area.

Angela at the pool party, with Lisa in the background. And my finger in the foreground apparently.

Then was an uneventful and great time. In Winnipeg it was freezing cold. I was lounging by a pool in Vegas in perfect warm weather with no wind and a perfectly sunny sky, looking at very interesting and beautiful people all around me. It was AWESOME.

We were both hungry, but I could have fucking starved for all I cared, I was loving it. But Angela not so much. So we left the pool party and went back to the French Market Buffet. We stayed there a LONG time, getting our money’s worth on the delicious food and talking business. Angela is Drawn and Plastered’s office hero, and these days we wouldn’t survive without her.

Somebody's been reading my beehive tutorial!

When we’d milked as much time as we could out of the buffet, we went back up to the vendors. Every time we were sure we had seen it all we found a little more. This time, because it was the last day, a lot of the vendors had rolled out new stock, and put what they had on sale so they wouldn’t have to haul it back to where they came from. I saw a really beautiful sky blue dress that had to be vintage, but when I looked at the rack next to it, I saw many of the same one, guaranteeing instantly that it was not. Whatever! That meant it was probably cheaper than I thought. I was right. It was 70$, marked down to 50$. This dress was so mine. But I had to find my size. The sizes marked seemed unusually large for the appearance of the dresses though, so I wondered aloud of they were in vintage sizes. Immediately a girl beside me burst out laughing to her friends. What an idiot I was, right? Well guess what! They were home sewn by the vendor’s wife using a 1950s pattern, and were sized accordingly, so yes they were vintage sizes. Not such an idiot after all! Turns out I’m a 1950s size 10. And Marilyn Monroe’s famous size 14? Not what you think.

I stole this picture from the Viva Las Vegas fan page, because my pictures sucked.

Anyway, I tried on a dress before understanding the sizes and it was huge, and then realized “wtf am I doing? I’m in a bathing suit, I don’t need no stinking change rooms.” So I tried on about 3 or 4 dresses until I found my size. Keep that tip in your hat, girls. Bathing suits when there aren’t change rooms = Win. Turns out I had left my parasol in the bathroom. When I went to retrieve it, it was gone. BITCH, STEALING MY SHIT IS NOT VERY LADYLIKE!!

But we had to run. Elvira was supposed to be hosting The Wasp Woman. I don’t have much to say about that except it was confusing to us when they started running the DVD. Where was Elvira? The movie totally sucked. It wasn’t your typical so-bad-it’s-funny, which I don’t understand anyway, but it was just plain bad. When we were absolutely sure Elvira wasn’t showing up, we left. A lot of people did. We thought maybe we had been confused about what was supposed to happen, but when we asked the ushers they said she WAS supposed to come, but she got sick and cancelled. Lame.

Back up to the vendors it was, for the last time. I had been aching for a Rago girdle for…ever, and knew that Viva was the best place to get one, but we still hadn’t found a booth selling them. I knew they had to have them somewhere, so we went on the hunt. Eventually we did find such a booth, not a Rago booth exactly but they did carry it, along with all kinds of other things that made it a Victoria’s Secret for the vintage set. It was wonderful. They had two tables covered in vintage lingerie of all kinds dyed bright colors, and a rotating display of pasties, including some that looked like spiders. Not only did we find what we were looking for (Angela wanted one too after wearing my vintage one to try it out), but they came in red and black lace, completely unavailable anywhere else. We spent forever debating the merits of hooked and zipped vs roll-on, and finally went for the roll-on. I also got a matching bra because I wanted something not cone-shaped, but at least a change from the heavily padded super round shape available everywhere else. It was absolutely perfect. I will write a review. Well, when we got out of the bathrooms, because you can’t try on a girdle and bra in public even with a bathing suit on, who should I spot at the booth but Doris Mayday!

She was just as gorgeous as the doll-looking girls, but more real if that makes any sense. I loved that so much more. She was sweet as pie, just as I expected. I wondered if she had made an appearance at the PUG tent, and she had. But she felt bad for all those people waiting in line in the sun, and was giving them water. Doris is awesome ❤

I swear I don't normally look like this much of a boy. You know that, don't you?

When we came across the Stop Staring! booth for the second time, I told Angela she should go show Alicia Estrada her new dress she had bought the day before since she was now wearing it. What followed was a whirlwind. Alicia told us something that’s hers alone to tell, and Angela immediately jumped in to giving her advice. I stood there feeling momentarily useless, but being equally part of the conversation with equally valid things to say, I joined in with whatever I could. Alicia was so receptive she offered us each a dress in exchange for our emails. The dresses are STUNNING. Thank you a million times, Alicia, we love you! What a great end to a fabulous weekend!

Epilogue: We went to a few more hotels on the strip on our way back. The Venetian was amazing, and we took pictures until my feet were about to explode. The trip back home was vastly easier with only two planes to take instead of three, and we both made it looking sexy as hell in our new dresses, chic updos, and our new lacy lingerie. We were even hit on by airport staff. Which is hilarious when you think about the fact we were an hour away from leaving the country. What did this poor sap think he was going to accomplish?

So that concludes the long and tedious story about our amazingly fun trip to our first Viva. I realized last night just how much we missed when I saw an official photo album and saw that I was present for the taking of only a small fraction of the pictures. Next year, we do more. LOTS more. It’s going to be amazing, and I can’t wait.

See ya!

Viva Las Vegas Rockabilly Weekend – Saturday

I meant to post this last night, because I know you guys just love hanging off the edge of your seats to read about my life, but I was spending the majority of my night partying it up at walmart buying yellow pajamas, so you just had to wait.

As I was saying when we left off, we woke up on Saturday morning still drunk. This was odd, as we’d only had about two drinks each the night before, completely regular drinks, not doubles, not including the giant daiquiris we’d had that afternoon, which may as well have been big smoothies. We had to be at the Orleans by noon to get our tickets to the burlesque show, so we headed out right away. We looked cute as hell.

The trip was unusually short, I guess traffic was good. We rode on the bus with Batman, so maybe that helped. We got there at only a little after 11. This turned out to be pretty good, because there was already a line half way across the casino. How naive of us to think we could just walk up to the box office at noon. So we waited. Luckily the line went right through the slot machines, so we had chairs to sit on. Standing right behind us for that hour, and who had also sat on the same shuttle with us from Bill’s, turned out to be a guy from Winnipeg. Kory was totally not a douche, so we became buddies. When the line started moving – and it moved extremely quickly, it took just a minute or two to get to the front – we got our seats together.

Then it was time to head off to the famous car show, and we went together. Kory’s friend didn’t seem to have woken up that day, maybe it was another case of that Vegas mystery alcohol, so he may as well. Now this car show is pretty epic, and unlike any typical car show you may have seen. No cars are allowed more recent than 1963, and the modifications also have to be in keeping with this. I’m not a big car person, but it was awesome to see. From what I could tell, nobody saw the pretty pinup girls and the cool cars and thought to put them together, so I got Angela posing on a car with the owner’s permission, and as soon as she did about ten guys circled around to take her picture. It was pretty neat, if she wasn’t about to burst into flame I’m sure we could have had fun doing that all day. But since we had important business to attend to at the Pinup Girl Lounge, we didn’t take a whole lot of pictures. Go google them, they’re out there and better than anything I could have taken with my shitty camera phone. On the way to the tent somebody also snapped my picture and told me it was going into a magazine, probably an online one. I didn’t have a close look at the card he gave me. But that’s pretty cool, I’ll have to dig around in my purse for it some time and look it up.

Me and Laura Byrnes!

We waited in line a while to meet Micheline Pitt and Cholita, Kory close behind. Angela took refuge in the corner of the tent after her sunscreen didn’t prove strong enough. I grit my teeth and stayed zen. Towards the front of the line I spotted Laura Byrnes, founder of Pinup Girl Clothing, chatting with some friends. She was so real and cool I couldn’t help but love her. I think she spent at least five minutes talking about her bra. Me and her, we could get along. She was also nice enough to let me have my picture taken with her. Hey Laura, call me! We’ll do lunch!

Me and Cholita!

When I finally got to the front of the line Micheline was distracted with someone at the back of the tent, so I hung out with Cholita. She was really lovely. She had her hair done in that really pretty effect I’ve been seeing more and more lately where it looks like color was brushed in like a powder. I think it’s called balayage, but when I look that it up it looks so boring in comparison. Hers was light blond with this strong lavender shading. She said she did it herself. She was so nice I could have sat and talked with her all day. Then Micheline was ready to say hello, and while I didn’t get much opportunity to see what she’s like in person because of the rush, I want to like her very much because of who she seems to be online, beautiful, creative, honest, and approachable. So I’ll hold on to that until I get more of a chance. I bought a signed print of one of her awesome zombie girl paintings, and I wonder how long it will be before I manage to get a frame for it. Once all that was done, we rushed back inside.

Me and Micheline! She looks like a giant doll, and I look like a fucking dork beside her.

Well, now it was time to eat. We joined the long line for the French Market Buffet, and Kory introduced us to some of his new friends, Mark and Lisa. By now we were already exhausted, and my feet hurt like hell. But let me tell you, this buffet was the BEST. Barbeque, seafood, Mongolian, American, and pasta all in one place, including sushi, salad bars, every kind of cake and pie, and every flavor of ice cream. If only I had been hungrier. Next year, we eat there, breakfast, lunch and dinner. The plan for the rest of the day was to hang out at the pool party and take in some bands. Angela didn’t want to do this, she was feeling very sick and tired. I really didn’t want to take over half an hour back to the hotel and miss the pool party, but what else could we do? So leave we did. Poo.

Angela and Micheline. Angela hardly knew who Micheline was, but she totally didn't look like a dork beside her. How fair is that?

Once we got back she started to feel better. And it wasn’t totally boring. We caught up with our men back home, and took our time getting ready for the burlesque show. So much time in fact that we thought we would be late getting back. But the 10:30 start time wasn’t the start time at all, just the time they started letting people in. This time the line was even longer, but we already had assigned seats so it didn’t matter. Time-wise, luck was on our side that day. The show was great. Winnipeg doesn’t have much in the way of variety for burlesque, and while I’m grateful to have any at all, it was awesome to see so many extremely talented ladies doing their best in so many different ways. My hands down favorite was Miss Mosh. She looks like a platinum blond Dita von Teese with a sad face. Or maybe she was just shy, or nervous. But I absolutely loved her. In her act she danced to Harlem Nocturne, which immediately sealed it for me, but then she climbed into a giant top hat in a sparkling black gown, and after a few beats of suspense suddenly emerged as a rabbit in a sparkling white corset and ears. It was genius. I wanted her to win. Mosh, you’re fabulous, you made me a fan 🙂

How gorgeous is this girl??

There was only one thing left to do after the show but go upstairs for more bands. And sightseeing! Everybody was turned out in their best. It was the coolest thing to see all these girls in 1950s prom dresses, looking every bit authentic except for their blue hair and tattoos. Angela and I got some drinks, actually, a lot of drinks, because we didn’t want to wait in line again when we wanted more, and in Vegas they let you do that apparently. Hers was too spicy for her, so she tried to give it to me. But I didn’t want to spend all night drinking and not dancing, and I definitely didn’t want to wake up drunk again. Plus it was absolutely freezing in there. We were told it was to keep the bands’ equipment from overheating. For a while we sat and enjoyed ourselves out in the hall in a little niche with a window overlooking the casino below. Kory danced with me after that, which I had wanted to do for ages. It was awesome. Angela should have tried it but she didn’t want to. Poo.

See guys? I can be hot too! See?

Finally it was time to go home. We shared a cab with Mark and Lisa, and Mark was so nice he gave me some money for fare after they got out. That’s great, because cab fare in Vegas is super expensive. Thanks guys! We ordered a pizza but it was taking too long, I fell asleep right away and then Angela called and cancelled because she was tired too. Oh well.

Now I thought I would be including Sunday here but I assume you’re sick of reading by now. More suspense for you!

Viva Las Vegas Rockabilly Weekend – Thursday and Friday

I already know this is going to be such a long post, it’s going to have to be a series. We only did about half the things there were to do at Viva, but it was still the most incredible time ever. Next year I hope I don’t miss anything. Now I just have to tell you about all of it, because you should totally experience this trip. That is, if you like feeling like you traveled back in time to a 1950s world that was way badass. Who the hell doesn’t?

Vegas from the plane. Turbulence makes pictures suck.

It started out pretty shitty. We had to take three planes to get there, and the first two were extremely boring, as plane rides often are. I remembered being completely enthralled by the scene below, but this time, not so much. I was just excited to be on my way. The third plane, that was different. It started out more social and fun than the others, because we were of course ALL going to Vegas. Drinks, cheering, a sexy dude from Brazil sitting with us. PARTY. TIME. But then it got windy, and the pilot warned us we were in for a rough landing. Yep. We bumped and jolted the whole way down, and then the landing…failed. It was so windy the wings of the plane were almost hitting the ground, so just seconds later the pilot was like “fuck that noise, I’m out” and did an emergency takeoff. Then all the lights went out. I don’t remember any screaming, but I wasn’t paying attention. Between the bumping, the Gs, and the tight turn back in for a second attempt, I was nauseous. I think we all were. Then it took forever to get our bags, and the shuttle ride to the hotel was a little rocky itself. Hey Vegas people: Stop running out in front of cars. Everybody else in the world knows not to do that, so catch up, will you? The rest is even more boring. I barfed, we waited in line for half an hour to check in, got dressed up for no reason, went down for food, and then decided to take it to our room and fall asleep. Thursday, over.

Hurray, I'm alive! I can drink and shop again!

Friday I felt better. I woke up at a decent hour, and let Angela sleep as much as she wanted since she hasn’t had more than 3 hours sleep since her son was born. When she got up we decided to get some room service for breakfast. Delicious food, amazing service, shit price. 45$ for two omelets and a pot of coffee. Never doing that again, nope. So while Angela was getting ready I facebooked with Mike and then we were off. To get to the Orleans where the events are held, we had to get on the Deuce, the double decker bus that goes down the strip, for 7$ for a 24 hour pass. That thing is SLOW. On the bus we met some nice local girls who explained how to get to the Orleans further. We had been told to take a cab from the end of the strip. They informed us we were being ripped off, that we should get off at Bill’s Gambling House and another bus would take us down Tropicana to the Orleans. This bus didn’t come. Finally the next one came and we got to the Orleans on day 2 at about 5pm.

We were a little overwhelmed at first. We were surrounded by awesome looking people swarming all over the casino (who suddenly made me feel VERY uninteresting) and were given a program of the events. With nothing going on at the moment but bands I’d never heard of, we went upstairs to check out the vendors.

Now this is going to sound a little sad if you’ve never been, but oh god, this was shopping heaven, and one of my very favorite parts of the whole weekend. Mix every kind of vintage reproduction, real vintage with nothing more recent than the 60s to wade through and wretch at, along with parasols, CDs, posters, hats, tattoos, a booth to get your hair done, and on and on and on. Wow. I was immediately drawn to the treasure hunt of real vintage, and scored big time. A 60s girdle, in fine condition except for a missing garter tab, in my size exactly, for five bucks. How the hell did that happen? Even the lady running the booth was surprised. But there it was. It was mine, and it felt as comfortable as a skirt, and was the most effective shapewear I’ve ever tried. So long, Spanx, you’ve been replaced, hard, and you’ll just have to move on. I also picked up two beautiful flower hair clips, also $5 (if you want to be a weirdo at Viva, just don’t wear a flower. I’m serious.), and a pretty white parasol for $15.

A quick trip to The Cosmopolitan, which is "just the right amount (ahem, plenty) of wrong" because all it is is da club with a pretty bead curtain and this shoe. We left right after this.

At 7, the vendors closed for a two-hour break, and we wandered back down to check the place out. We went to the gift shop, where I got another flower, and took pictures of all the Viva merch. I would have bought a poster, but it was 30$. Sad. Then we got gigantic daquiris in souvenir cups and checked out the pool. The Hula Girls were playing, and for the first time it really felt like we were on vacation. I don’t remember a ton else we did before we sat down to share some Mexican. I caught a sighting of Micheline Pitt at the same place. She looks like a doll.

Then we headed upstairs for The Jive Aces, the only band I’d ever heard of, unfortunately. They were goddamn amazing. In Winnipeg there are two kinds of music shows besides the concerts that come through on tour, which I only very rarely see. There’s mellow jazz, and grungy metal. I like the mellow jazz but it’s just so… mellow. The grungy metal I can easily do without. I have enough anger in my life already, thanks. So The Jive Aces were an entirely new experience, and completely blew me away. Here’s a bunch of older guys in bright yellow matching suits, with incredible showmanship, telling hilarious jokes and dancing their faces off on stage like they each just drank a case of redbull. And the audience was just as good. Here’s a room full of people in 50s clothes swing dancing, so hard you could feel the floor bounce. And holy crap, they were GOOD. I have the feeling that either they didn’t need that jive class being offered, or it was the best jive class of all time. So the whole room had essentially been turned into a 1940s/1950s dance hall, and it was completely surreal. Now it makes me incredibly sad that there’s no such thing as this back home, and I’m going to have to wait another year to experience it again.

The garden in the Bellagio

Once Angela got bored we went and found a second room full of vendors. The Stop Staring! booth was there, and who should we find there but Alicia Estrada herself, founder of the company and designer of all those gorgeous dresses. We really hit it off, we instantly got along famously. Alicia offered Angela a deal on a stunning dress, the sexy one shouldered red dress I have but in a metallic aqua color that went amazingly with her natural red hair. I told her she had to buy it, that every girl needs a stop staring dress, something high end that makes you feel incredible every time you put it on. Besides, when the hell are you going to get something like that for that price? I was thrilled that she did. And then she opened up the prospect of possibly modeling for the company one day. We were not humored, and I mean that in a good way. Now this is my kind of lady.

Next came the Layrite booth, and believe me, they’re getting a review as soon as I’m done yammering about my trip. I was going over the products, fine classic men’s grooming products, and mentioned that Lisa Freemont Street swears by the pomade even though it’s marketed to men, so of course I had to get it. So the guy beside me suddenly pipes up and says “Lisa Freemont Street? That’s my wife!” O_O He went and got her so I could meet her, and I immediately proceeded to make a gushing fan ass of myself. It was totally embarrassing. Ashley, I’m sorry, but you’re just damn cool. Because you’re not a real celebrity, because you’re just a super nice, approachable lady with entertaining videos who makes my hair boss. And that fucking rules. She was of course just as nice in person as she is on youtube, and she and Angela talked about being moms and going on vacation, so she made her feel a little better about taking some time away for herself. She even remembered my blog, from the post I made about her. I squealed like a little girl.

So finally it was time to go, and we ran around on the desolate street trying to find a bus stop. Thank god a nice lady kindly informed us that Tropicana is hooker street, and while waiting for the hooker bus we would get harassed because people would think we were hookers. So we promptly returned to the hotel, and took the shuttle back to Bill’s Gambling House on the strip, and explored a little before taking the Deuce back. It rained men in the Bellagio. We didn’t get back until probably 4am. We didn’t however act like hookers from hooker street, and avoided all roofies. Although we did wake up still drunk the next morning.

The ceiling of the Bellagio lobby. Yes, the ceiling.

To be continued!