Fair no more :((

The year is about to end and all I can think about is - the fair will momentarily be no more!! It's been such a ludicrous and wild event, this - this standing frozen still while the streets were going up and down before you in rapid current. The knitting and the chatting and the flirting (not in a sexual - in a 'oh, hey, you look like an artist, too' :D )kind of a way, and the coffees and the cookies and all the food that other hut proprietors have been bringing and the yummies we brought to them!...  Annoying fucking kids that i was throwing candy wrappers at, dudes with pitbulls called Junkie, travelers, foreigners, expats, thieves, drunks, gypsy soothsayers, friends, FB friends, long lost friends, all stopping to chat, at times for hours on end! We sold some stuff (though in the end not so much as to buy the Bjorn Borg undies for my favorite bum!!!) :'( and tomorrow all those chairs we sat on, huddling around the radiator like wet pigeons, and the impro tables and the artwork and the lightwork.... will be disassembled and taken back to the real world to serve.. :( This was such an odd experience. I don't think I've been this surrounded by people since my little yellow moped days. There were also hot dogs for 4 euros a piece! You don't see that every day. And I was read a love drama to, and I teased little virgin Christian boys into blushing like tomatoes. Lyra was the star of the show - everybody wanted to walk her, because she's just the coolest mutt ever :D I wonder how many tiny paper nails will be under the hut once it's torn down... Ah, I feel like it's the last day of circus in town. Tomorrow, all that will be left, will be the vague stains on the cobblestones, marking where the hutties used to be...

I love waking up at 4:3o, because I can play WoW for hours, eat (it's not food if it's before 6), see a movie, walk the dog, hang the laundry, wash the dishes and then dirty them up again by making the second coffee and decide what I wanna do during the job-hours: knit, write, read or make funny faces at the costumers - and it's EIGHT am when I am done. It's like a whole new dimension of living a night life :P

            Besides, I can't get enough of Zack Gili...f.... f...aw fuck it, I rehearsed it out of respect for the actor, but there's just no way.... anyway, the homeless professor/Santa on dope guy - the one that appears in most scenes in Hangover alongside Bradley Cooper, who is like the handsomest male human I can think of from the top of the head, and still nobody looks at Bradley Cooper. The 'are you ready to let the dogs out' and then 'My flag boy and your flag boy, sitting by the fire' scenes are eye-widening, and that's even before you see him in Due date or SNL. That monologue tops even Taylor Swift's one.... okay, I can't believe I just compared the two. Shame on me. Shame. Shame.

Today I explained the Florence Nightingale story to the General for the fourth time. He always listens, because he can tell how much I like it. And then he always explains about the battles. And then he pats my head and says 'Thank you for telling me this story for the fourth time.' I love my Popikoki. 

          Like a she-wolf, I am all about the basic animal needs these days: food, sleep and sex. Those pills are like Viagra made love to heroine. But on the other hand I had a terrible urge to watch Shawshank redemption and BBC's The Beauty of Diagrams. diagrams are very pretty. I've made two today. 

          It's something around minus ten and it gets so friggin chilling that my bone-marrow starts to hurt. People don't even stop by the huts, they just glance around for things they need and hurry on. Ironically, it is super sunny :D

        Here are some pickies of the last few... weeks. There are also those I haven't taken. May take them soon, tho :))

 This is actually a really really good Pear & Caramel chocolate I found quite incidentally. And this is during X-mas season, so it's not that I'm utterly sugar-underfed...

 This was one of the more gloomy, dreary selling days :s

 X-mass yummies and party moods :))

 Our merch :D The sievey Bombilla straws :D Such a shame I don't dig tea :p

 This was the racqlet diner at Drey's - potatoes with melted cheese and dipping. Sup-ficking-erb.

 Starbark eating all the sparks :D

Today: sunny and cold like you wouldn't believe.

Am quite inspired by the new Eminem release
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UbQhKxxrq04&feature=rec-LGOUT-exp_fresh+div-1r-6-HM
and from chatting relentlessly, teasing My Aranna,  I've decided that from now, on, although I still believe - or my soul does - that Life is Too Damn Long, I will carry more weapons through my stories and face more battles head on.
I will write more,
I will have more daughters,
and for every kiss I will banish a tear and I will claim my kisses.
there are so many beautiful, glorious men in this world, but I am only one.
And I am one fuck of a cunt when it comes to experiencing life.
Even though sometimes, in the chill death of fog and blizzards, I forget that.

My number's coming up. Bad excuse, but it's "the year of the scavenger, the season of the bitch", so I may as well arm myself with the Pen and the Mark and play a hunter ;)

"Life is too long. We are fools, thinking that what we love the most will last as long as we want it. We grow old and exhausted, trying to maintain the happiness that is always an inch out of reach. Life is too damn long. I wish i had died a lot younger - exactly the moment that I believed everything I want is behind the next door.."

(From 'Blame it on the rain', though I sometimes know how he feels. But then I make love to my beautiful husband and think 'Aw, fuck it. I could suffer through 5o more years of this :P )

Another surprisingly cool day. Cool in a good way, not as if nutcracking cold.. Though i do have to *admire* the organizers, after they said they will fix the low electricity wiring problem: they solved it by sending us notices saying we may only use the power for either lighting OR heating the huts. Bri-fucking-lliant. Seriously.

              I persuaded a handsome man to pose for me, may even have found my Aranna for the cover of the short stories, though the weather would have to pick up for me to take naked pictures of a Cromagnon inventor of culture, dressed in clay and blood-look-alike. I also met an interesting man, an encyclopedia of botany and archeology. If he makes contact, I'll drag him out to lunch, continuing my pursuit of the rubber oak (Quercus Crenata), a tricky tree that's going extinct in my country...

             And I finished the cap for mum :))

              All in all a cool day indeed :))

Yesterday was a remarkably lovely day. The business of selling the cards and baggies was better than on other days and time flew - and in the afternoon I set off to make the OverMuraMovingCake (which I believe succeeded deliciously) and honey cookies, which DID succeed delightfully, and some experimental puffy chocolate and coconut cookies, which I don't know how they succeeded, because they've all been eaten already and I hadn't had the chance to sample one. My brain is working diligently on the short stories, though I failed to write the one about the carpenter in the Borneo circus brothel. It's been warm, uncharacteristically so, though the color of air seems to warn of rain. There was also supposedly a lunar eclipse, but I didn't catch that one. I am fine with the moon such as it is :))

    Am warm, fat, fed and in love, the dog is fine, parents were cool and right this instant I discovered a ball of yarn that i previously overlooked, so I'll be able to knit some more weird shit for my friends today! YaaaaR!

Darn the wayward alarm clocks. I hate not having sex in the morning. It slows down my whole day :s

I think I have a cold in my bum. Dunno, my gut hurts and I can't think of another season, because it doesn't usually do that. I'm thinking I caught a cold somewhere in the spare tire region. Then again, yesterday the General brought me raspberry tea that I like (one can only drink so many coffees..) in a thermos and yummy, fatty, right-on-the spot for this weather sandwiches and my Piggy - the hot water sack in the plush toy, which is the warmest, cushiest thing ever and it kept me warm thorough the workday. It was probably  a wee bit because in the morning we had a bit of a clash when he bit my bum until I climbed the new bed but could not climb back down (not as easy without a decent ladder and monkey I B not!!) and got scared and he got nervous and dog got noisy, so it all became one huge tangle of fighting, yelling, crying, misunderstandings and barking at 6am, that lasted whole three minutes but once again proved I am not the bravest button in the jar. - something that always kind of catches him unprepared. There are three things I rather don't do and risk getting my arms broken tends to be one of them. Haha, but once the whole commotion was over, he was so funny. He grumbled: "Next time I should just punch you first and get you down without your need to explain why you refuse to come down. (Switched to the tenderest little voice:) Honey? Honey? What's the happs my wee bun, did you hit your little head-y on the shelf-y? Was it nappy time-y?... (Back to grumpy voice:) It certainly would have been less time consuming." Silly bucket. The things we experience in our own living room, for Pete's sakes. You'd think we were climbing trees in the Amazon :PP

          The dog tore up a small plush beagle and ate the entire sum of tiny plastic beads that the toy was made of - she's shitting construction material again. I suppose my tummy ache is simply her projection. It woke me up in the middle of the night, but afterwards, I spent a couple of hours in a sublime Burmese brothel where they had all these clear blue water shows and reading courses and it was just the coolest place ever. I spent about an hour fixing the elevator and with all the people coming and going: teenage triplets, old horny men, moonlight doctors, primma donna street performers, old madams, jealous wives, pipe workers that took their breaks one floor up, artisans fixing the old temple railing... The rain. And the snakes. If I delve back into it, I think I may bring back enough memories for the short story. So far I am down to eight, but I don't think all would carry the proverbial water. (Also, I got to the part in Bleach that is about young Urahara, but I dare not watch it yet. At this point that man, regarding my fictional inner turmoil, is the centerfold. I need to keep the stories variable. Him, he can wait in between my Reality and my professional fiction. The in-check-keeper. He's good at that sort of thing. It's what I have him for in all the longer fiction stories.)

           Other than that I have to to go Maribor again and this time no Drej's novel to read :( It's become such a routine after only once, I miss it already. I think I'll take the knitting. I should probably hurry with the gifts. It's Christmas time.

The fair began! Am butt tired, oddly enough, though other than sitting on the heater Turkish-style and freezing my proverbial testicles off, there really isn't anything strenuous to do. Basically it's just the super cute festive season, super cute little green cottage, a bunch of friends, cool chats, cool tea and coffee and cookies, even some selling to be done. Alas (it's 2am and it's -17°C now...) it can get so cold one could eat forty pancakes and still lose weight from trying to keep warm. I'm wearing so much practical clothing that even when I am wearing sexy lingerie, there's still thing-high wool army socks and an ugly fat winter undershirt underneath it :P

Though I did feel so good at some point (selling my first card to the pair of rich Russians! :D) that I actually wrote a poem  :D  It's crappy, of course, Keats me be not, but it's the principle of the thing!! :P

X-mass set-up and zombie dreams

The X-mass fair begins today and I seem to be a little bit nervous, because I've been scratching the inside of my left elbow - something I do until it starts to hurt - but i do not realize it until it does hurt.. But we've been setting stuff up yesterday and as far as outdoors goes, it's been one of my favorite December days so far.

     Okay, so maybe I do miss the company of people, not all of whom are entirely chosen. Having close friends is a balm, but meeting folk that doesn't seem to want to bother me is also kind of neat. I forget that sometimes. Though time will tell how spot on my radars are. We set up the stuff for two of the wee cottages (both green! yahh!!) and today we'll set the stuff on display and officially start selling it. I wonder if I'll sell anything. Ah, well. No idea if it'll be devastatingly dull and freezing or time will fly and it'll be exciting. But I better make sure the weather is in our favor, because it would just suck if all tho weeks weren't super x-massy-sunny!

      As part of my nervousness, I woke up at 3am today (okay, I actually do that every night, but this time I couldn't go play warcraft, because I needed my beauty sleep.) and it took me an hour to fall back asleep. Then I had some really cool dreams about zombies. three consecutive ones - three consecutive movie sets, in act. The first one was kind of like The Walking Dead and a bunch of us was driving someplace that we assumed was safer. Dunno, some kind of old industry on some hill or something. The General was still in the dream with me, but we got separated. It was night-time. Our car hit some sort of an animal, some large white dog or something,  or the carcass of it already, and we needed to pause. But as soon as we got out of the car, we were followed by a hunting party of hillbillies that were out for food. They mainly looked like the scurvy cast of True Blood's meth family. They were dirty, very thin and mostly quite anemic. They saw the dog (I was hiding in the nettly ditch that General pulled me down into just in time - directly under the dog.) They gutted the dog and put the intestines away, of course directly on me - though that wasn't quite as bad as I would have feared. But because of it, they found me. For a moment the jury was out whether I would be a better meal than the dog.

       They took me to their place and the son of them wanted to take my blood. He was going to use a needle that was almost definitely twice the size of my vain and had no idea how to do it. I tried to show him and do it myself, but he lost interest half the way. We kind of laid down on his bed, which was so worn out that the fabrics of the mattress were tearing if I put too much pressure on one point and he got upset over it. His mother, probably about ten years older than him, wasn't so happy that he was making friends with food, but she didn't have the upper hand on decision making in the house, men did. 

        Then we went someplace. Again, on top of some hill. We got swarmed first by some zombies and then by more - and I didn't have any weapon and didn't run quite as fast to make it count. It was downhill over tiny sideways and neat by-ways, but it was hard going. I fell behind and my new-found meth-head family didn't wait for me - in fact they abandoned me with little emotion. They probably saw me as a decoy bait. I kept thinking that kicking zombies in the face was probably the most effective way to put them off, but they had the upper ground, I am no Mila Jovovich and they didn't quite as insistently fall back on iron railings as I had hoped. Plus there was the constant threat of being scratched - and bitten, if i happened to get my foot stuck in their teeth.

      Another night came. Fucking winters. I remembered an estate I saw in the middle of town, that was mildly secure with a large, lit mansion in the middle, but more importantly: a very large fence around a very large pool in the middle of which (and it was an elaborate, half swimming, half decorative, modern-like-swamp pool), was a half finished villa. I climbed the large fence to meet with eight fat dobermans - I had met them before and six of them were perfectly ready to be tickled behind their ears. Two were giving me trouble, but I think the other six ate them in turn. I jumped across the pool decor and made it to the house. This house was single-handed built by an old Michael Ironside-like guy, frustrated by his marriage (I could hear his wife across the entire estate) and somewhat willing to host me. There was sex involved here also, but as per usual, the damn zombies interrupted us here also. They followed the lights and the wife's annoying voice and were beginning to round the estate. Although the rich guy had supplies for a couple of weeks while he was building his getaway, they were running out. What we really needed, were some hand grenades.

OF COURSE the one time I go out without a camera, there is absolute clarity of the city sky and the shiny sparkly wonder of the decoration - and the waiter brings me the whitest ever cappuccino foam in a pristine white cup, highlighting the flawless brown caramel ring of the brim. Typical. Lesson learned. 

          Also had a curious conversation with a lady who wants to put up my show. If anything becomes of it, it may be an excellent opportunity to show off again :)) (I've had time to forget about the expo pains like people forget labor.)

I have changed the pivotal scene in the compendium short story to Hearsay fifty-seven times. It has gone from the first time the young Seti Sepp and the darling Messenger meet that had no communication between them, to having sex, back again, to touching and talking only once, or maybe a couple of times briefly. It is giving me a headache. Even though this story can stand alone and Hearsay as a book can stand without it, I've always liked this chapter, because it is a little bit more naturalistic and linear and personal than the rest of the book. In this story, which actually takes place only weeks after the Messengers first arrive to Samudra, in the year 3007 or so, and Seti Sepp is just a zealot young SUN graduate, running errands to prove himself. Coincidentally the ship they are both on crashes and events follow so that at some point they are sitting next to one another and thinking it's okay to be alive, but it would be okay to just (finally) die, also. In that scene is later decided the whole relationship that brings about the end of City of Startracker: why did young Sepp decide to hate and hunt down other Literates so personally, and why did Paper always feel like she fucked up before she even started her job. A simple scene, one that both could be without and lives would be easier, but one that did happen and did draw attention and did ultimately make such a big mess of things. I have re-done that scene more often than I can recall lately. I go to the bathroom and think of a new word to replace the old one... Seriously. I feel like a NASA engineer.

Have downloaded the entire 300 episodes of Bleach.. again. It was like solving some gorram mystery, considering they are all over the place and the arcs are entirely unrelated to the chapters, so following them as a whole is a mess. It inspired me to try and paint a comic book, though of course I am nowhere near disciplined enough to do anything of the sort. Perhaps a very small one? As a homework thingie? I like homeworks. I always steal other people's ideas for them. Drejč needed to write a letter-short-story for her recent task. Unfortunately, I cannot bring myself to do that one... My entire first marriage was one long necklace of tiny letter-short-stories, each more desperate and pathetic than the next and then the suicide note. And then the sms after-suicide, saying simply: Amazing. 

        That should have been the end of that, no?

       Anyways, not that I even now understand what a Shinigami is (alive? dead? Twice dead? In the inbetween?), I am somehow warm inside from thinking they are around us and have been neglecting my glorious 'story shepherd' way too long to boot. It should keep me happy for the next four days, while I gather the goodies for the fair. No idea how I feel about that either. I suppose I should be optimistic, but I'm too old to be an optimist. Heck, I'm too old to be an anarchist communist. I'll just remain a fantasist, then, and leave the dog to bark at falling snowflakes. 

       The day outside is more brilliant than I've had in a week, but it is too ridiculously cold for me to consider taking the advantage of it and go for a stroll. No fucking way. 

        My three remaining tasks for this year (the year, that, of course for me ends at March 11th), are: publishing of at least one of the damn books that have been burning my fingertips with neglect for the past three quarters of a year..., making money with the photographs (certainly a summer profession), getting the rooms rented and... okay, perhaps not learning to multitask but certainly learning how to keep a schedule. Winter writing and editing and drawing, summer photographing, traveling and inventing?... 

       Hehe, yeah, right. Like I posses the ounce of that sort of discipline.

       I am the ranger of chaos. You don't believe me, just read this blog :P

Following another of my darling Zem's hints, I came across another good artist. (Again makes me wish I was a painter, but with all that's been going on recently, I am going to be a writer first.)
    The name is Justin Sweet. He's the kid that drew my Drows :P

I finally figured it out: about a month ago somebody posted on the Facebook wall, if we could be anybody, anybody at all, who would we be for 24 hr..? Seriously, there wasn't a single thing I would want to be other than myself. But what sort of imagination am I supposed to have if I am not able to answer such a foolish inquiry? 

         So I got creative... Certainly not God. He has too many problems. Cleopatra, maybe, on one of her glorious days. Or Hadrian. Or Aristotle, staring up at the Greek night sky... But all these are just romantic, I doubt that within their heads, I would find anything so overwhelming that such an opportunity would have me fully satisfied. I needed to go deeper. Marie Antoinette, maybe, or Anne Boleyn... Or Gandalf. I wouldn't want to be someone really evil or destructive, because they don't really have much fun and are often quite in pain during. I wouldn't want to be anyone nervous, or unhappy. Perhaps a Geisha, but just one day might have been boring. Who, who indeed, so that I would live a life entirely like the one I have now - and better?

      It was a conundrum to say the least. The worst of  riddles. 

But I am hyper hormonal and have been reading a shitload of my own porn and then it finally hit me: if i could be ANYONE, anyone at all, I would only want to be the girlfriend of Urahara Kisuke on a very happy day - on a day we have sex at least five times, we bake at least ten cakes and we save the world at least twice. It's not just the man I can't get enough of, cause him I never could, but also the world he represents. That was the question in the first place, wasn't it? It wasn't about the costume, it was about the sensation and I have all  the sensations I want in this life, so this is the only choice I could come up with that would be exactly like my life, only really really high-lit.

:D

Everything these days is about sex. I am so hyped up on the hormones, I've read through two of my adventure tales and only noticed how erotic they are. I am horny ALL the time. Like a maniac, all I do is flirt and harass the General. I am also having the appetite of a horse, it's absurd how much I am capable of eating. And I've had my first wet dreams in ages. (I was a very rich and very hedonistic Nicole Kidman, riding around an old Italian town on a vespa. Between the juicy galleries and the General behind me... well, for as strange the sensation was, it was ultimatelly very rewarding indeed.)  My breasts are like rocks and it hurts just to put a bra on. Then again I think I've bleed everything I was meant to bleed in the past two years and kind of slacked, in these past five weeks, so... I didn't know someone can lose this amount of blood and feel good about it. Doctor said I am finally experiencing what every woman goes through every month. Can't say I am looking forward to the next month....

A NEW AGE HAS BEGUN

It is here.

Finally.

Magnificently.

Perfectly.

I am cold from playing on and on, and so is my pizza. There is SO much to do, but simply to go though the first levels of an ally worgen (though, granted, the first levels of the goblin craziness isn't half bad either!!), I am overwhelmed - like meeting an old friend for a hot chocolate during a bleak winter's night... As an ally, I will have to play all alone, every level on, while the rest of my... assembly is already rich (okay, maybe not rich, but repaired), needs to re-group, re-learn certain skills and professions and start it all anew with the new one: archeology.

           SO much to do... So much time to enjoy doing it :D

Oh, and did I mention - Popikoki my Love didn't just buy me the expansion - he bought me the collector's premium edition... :D I get the Lil'Deathwing!!! How beyond cool is that??

I am in the "Never trust anything that bleeds for a week, but doesn't die" mood. It's cold and dreary. I've watched a movie called Town, at least some of it - I've skipped the parts that I knew would be tragic. There was one scene I really really liked, though: the four robbers, dressed in ugly old nuns have just escaped a high speed pursuit and crossed the bridge of their getaway route... and realized they have stopped right next to a random police patrol car. Still-frame, everyone is staring at one another, the armed, hyped up robbers and an old cop... and then he turns his head away. Just like that. He hasn't seen a thing. And they change cars as planned and move on, allowing him to live.
         Pretty scary moment.

Dawgs today... :p

Ice today... :)

Snow today... :)

 

A walk in the park.... :))

 A mut in snowstorm  :P

My first knitted wooly cap. Can't decide which is cuter, the cap or the head it's on... Both are cushy, hairy and hot!!

Collateral damage during our snowfight... whoopsy. But they took it like a duck! :p