May have found the title for the next book after Goose – in case I don't keep »Dread Upon Reality« and just use it for a chapter while the majority of the story takes place on a boat: “Straw Widows”. Mum used that word today to describe the General, referring to people who were left behind while their spouses offed to work abroad, or at sea. So, sort of, provisional widows, or in this case - widowers..  I really like that word. I like the concept. Considering the main theme is provoking the General into chasing me through the universe :))

Braemar

So there's this possibility that I'll be spending the rest of the year dancing with this:

:D

The Five Bumps Road

Begins today. :D

I'll elaborate soon enough, but just a hint: it looks like it's going to be awesome.

Sad treasures of Draenor

When you're looking for Dreanor treasures in WoW, which is a fairly fast way to complete last few levels, you run into some pretty sad fucking stories… Or not even stories, just … well, I suppose if you don’t know what the story is, it’s called a mystery. That word makes a whole lot of sense suddenly. Missed story. Damn.

Any hoo. Am listening to some seventies music, some Stones, Jimmy Hendrix, some kind of a Vietnam inspired mixtape, while flying around and picking up the pieces of a time past, of strangers whom nobody buried. For example, you find a locked chest, surrounded by a chain from which a collar with the skeleton of somebody is let behind in the water. There is no story to say who this person was and why was it murdered. Or you find remains of a climber, his pickaxe, in the ice of some mountain. Or you find only slight hints of a remote camp and something like a medal saying: For extended watch post duty or some such. Or remains of a soldier left far behind and only his father’s letter, saying how proud he is the boy got into the army. Or a confused man, unable to remember where he is or why, because he only remembers reading a book by a tree and outside of the village you saw remains, a skeleton of someone killed while he was reading a book under a tree… Frozen corpses with love letters promising a future together. Or half written love letters, never delivered. Things washed ashore. Tiny houses in solitude, with only bones in beds. There are A LOT of these. I actually really love them. Not because I enjoy macabre, but because they feel very real. Corpse of a refugee with his possessions spilled into the river, while he tried to hide under a bridge. Poorly thought-out bandit hideaways. An old coin in a well, or a ring in the lake…. There is so much lore in this stupid game. I watched a villain try to manipulate his lieutenant, the would be antagonist, into servitude by bringing up his dead son – the son who, before over the years we’ve been playing getting messed up as well, turned the course of history and saved his father…  It gives you such a rush, rooting for the characters you’ve known for almost a decade… and knowing that sometimes they were responsible for the nameless, helpless victims you encounter while doing archaeology, or they tried to help and failed. It is the perfect non-reality to be in late at night, when all of the other realities have been dealt with :)

Grommash, Garrosh's hardcore dad at the moment when he begins to defy Gul'Dan...

Is it cheating if your favorite Chinese restaurant's phone if off and you call another, that you've never tried before, and they turn out to be twice as good, not as pricey and quite quicker?... O.o

Conscience, be quiet! Let tummy talk for once.

Winter is almost over, so I dyed my hair from chestnut brown to a hot red again. Had the perfectly legit excuse to do it a month sooner, too. After the interview, which was nicer than most interviews, bar perhaps the one for the position of a pastry chef, during which we made a cake and ate it (hard to top that :D :), I've realized that I actually have absolutely everything I would need for a ship job - already packed. Except perhaps nice shoes, as I usually wear hiking boots to any gig, ready to literally climb walls to get the pickies. We did have an 'evening wear' black closed-toe shoes for the military parades, which I never got a chance to wear out, but there's a difference between army chic and cocktail party classy. The nicest shoes I have are the ones Drej gave me. All I need now is a high end evening attire to go with it, in which I'll still be able to stealthily move around any ballroom and photograph anybody. The trick is not to be conspicuous, as say, having lots of flaming red hair... :P Though mum would be proud. :D

Tried out a new Chinese restaurant today - good soups and salads. But it's time for another bread, I think. In case I'm not able to sleep, I'll go make one... ... What shall we say, this time? Buckwheat? With pumpkin seeds or sauteed red cabbage?

A Lumen and a faux Lumen of my sis (while she posed for an ID) - and two lumens from the guys's band

... + two of the Radio Jam men :)

I just noticed I am not posting nearly as much as I should be. It's not like there isn't a ton of stuff happening, or that I’m not having long, profound inner monologues on the subjects of epicurean existence and capitalism… At the idea of travelling away for a little while, naturally the first thing to kick in is homesickness – missing dad and gran and mum and dog and my toys. Once you reason your way around that – other people should not be the reason to not have an insane life – you start to learn about the ropes and how you’ll be able to make the most of some experience. In truth, not only because of the money or the chance to travel to places I’ve never been, but there’s also my odd partiality to tiny rooms, military regime and working until you keel over. The only reason it hadn’t occurred to me earlier, was because there was no way I would spend even a minute away from G.

As I write this, I am considering taking the audio recorder to the bed and tape him snoring, just so that I would be able to listen to him sleep on a loop, should I need to find a mental sanctuary.

But in truth, the idea of going away for a long time, to places where I have little to no control – once missing or worrying for others is taken into account and shut up for a moment – burns brightest when I imagine taking absolutely nothing with me. Nothing. Couple of socks, okay, comfy shoes and toiletries, stuff so you’re not smelly, obviously, but nothing else. No books. No drawing pencils. No mementos, no amulets, ‘sanity’ boosters like trinkets from friends or lots of love letter paper… Okay, maybe lots of love letter paper. If I know where I’ll be sleeping and that I’ll be given food and be kept warm, there really isn’t anything to pack that wouldn’t fit in the camera Crumpler and my go bag…

Hm. I can’t afford it yet, but I really want a go bag. This go bag….

want :D

Do you know that in my entire existence I have never packed my own suitcase? I have one, sis gave it to me and Drej uses it for her art markets, but in all my life I’ve always either just put stuff into someone else’s bag, like mum’s or dad’s, or I packed Kingdom.