OK, let me first say that fantasy food is so much easier than space food. All you have to do is get some rustic bread, and some cheese, and a nice blotchy apple, and there you are: fit for adventure. So the space larder is a little muddled, by comparison.
Mass Effect Andromeda comes out in seven days, and that means you have to hear all about it. Or hear all about my excitement, at any rate, because I’m fairly unspoiled, and maybe if I pour all my time into designing a character and planning a Space Larder, I’ll resist the mounting temptation to click on various spoiler-ridden videos.
I feel like I should add a little more here – maybe explain what I’m talking about for those of you who don’t play videogames – but I’m working on a brutal combination of insomnia and daylight savings (I needed that hour!), so I’ll wait until I’m coherent. Space, though, right? Everyone likes space.
I talked about wanting a long coat in my Monday post, so here’s the follow-up, proof of concept. This time I’m going with a long shirt dress turned coat sort of thing, and see how wizardly it looks? But in a mostly acceptable way? I think I could pull it off. Alongside, we have a nice tome of forbidden spells, a bone key, a demon trapped in a shiny, and a necromancer’s amulet (or the Necromancer Amulet, if you’re an Elder Scrolls nerd).
Does this count as work, as far as striking goes? I have no idea, but I’ll play it safe with another rerun: this is from about two years ago, and I’m now in the same predicament (minus the rat tail, which was handy despite looking horrible, because at least it gave me something to tie back). History has taught me nothing.
I found this in my files, today, so I’m going to post it instead of the other thing I had semi-prepared. It’s from a while back, when somebody on tumblr asked me how to be cool (as well they should – I cleeearly have it all figured out). Step three is the most important, but never underestimate the subtle potency of the cool hand. Try it on your friends some time.
When I was a kid, opals were my favourite stone. I recall being very bitter that I wasn’t born in October (although the importance of birthstones was mainly tied to what sort of toy ring I could choose from the kiddy dentist office) and one of my mother’s few pieces of precious jewellery was an opal ring that I would constantly sneak in and handle, despite not being allowed to open her jewellery box unsupervised. So anyway, now I take extra glee in purchasing and hoarding this stone. Sort of like how I still, once a year, buy an entire box of chocolates and make myself sick by eating ALL OF THEM WOOO. Because I’m a grown up, and nobody can stop me.
Image is doing a variant cover event in March, in support of Planned Parenthood – so this is my contribution: the variant cover for She Wolf #7.
This company, Hagensborg, has some kind of dark product marketing magic going on, because I would buy their chocolate just for the pig mascot. I didn’t draw the pig nearly well enough, here. It’s the most amazing creature, and I’m totally in its thrall, and I just want to watch it do stuff. Even though it can’t. It can’t do stuff, Marian, because it’s an inanimate illustration.
The chocolate is also excellent, just incidentally, and I recommend the single origin bars and the PB&J truffle.
Initially I was going to make a post about my uniform, but then it immediately became a rant about how I can never find the correct elements, at least not to my fussy standards. So here, instead, is a miniature “Hchom line” with just the basics.
Now I need to post a shiny that was actually brought back from the field. My friend Sachi found this in Iceland, and as far as I understand it she took herself right to a glacier bed and systematically cracked open every rock until one of them yielded treasure. The most amazing thing, though, is that she gave it to me! Because (unlike some of us, I’m not naming names) she’s a superior human being, capable of parting with her finest shiny for the sake of friendship.
When we were really young, my sister invented a snack which we called the “toaster sandwich”. It was pretty much what you’d expect a kid to come up with: toasted bread sandwiching a messy combination of peanut butter and jam and honey.
Now listen, I was total balls as older siblings go. I don’t expect to surprise a single human being when I tell you that I was a weird broody child, and I wanted everyone to leave me alone so I could draw animals and read about Narnia. Spending time with my bouncy, affectionate sister was not on the itinerary. This toaster sandwich thing, however, was an exception. It was our bonding ritual. I would play videogames – Secret of Mana or Zelda or whatever – and my sister would watch, and sometimes she’d make us a snack, and even in my infant broodiness, I had to admit, those toaster sandwiches were mighty fine indeed.
A few people have suggested that I do recipe posts, and I’m still not sure if that would be wise, but you can count this as a beginning if you like. It might not appeal to anybody over the age of eleven, but it’s tried and true.
I meant to write a longer post today, but the week has been busy, so have this Vancouver page update for now. I’m adding Sweet Obsession. It’s been around since I was in high school (near my parents’ neighbourhood), and the big packs of assorted biscotti have seen me through a lot of shit.