When I was very young, my Nanny’s (may she rest in peace) sister, [Great] Aunt Dee Dee, got married to a man who would become my [Great] Uncle Joe (may he rest in peace). This was my first time attending a wedding, and I knew not the customs and traditions thereof. My older brother Jake was ringbearer, but being a very young child I misheard this as ring bear, and I was very disappointed they put him in a tiny tuxedo and not a bear costume.
Instead of throwing rice on the newlyweds after the ceremony, we handed out little bottles of bubble soap for the occasion, and it was my job to hand them out. Well, I was an enterprising child, and I decided to charge guests fifty cents a bottle, which they found amusing and gladly paid… until my mother found out and made me return the money. It is said Ron Paul himself shed a single tear at this violation of free market principles, for it was truly the tragedy of our time.
Jokes aside, considering the plot of my dreams last night, I thought “Ring Bear” an adequate title for this entry. But before then, a comment about last night: God clearly thinks subtext is for cowards. There was a rainbow yesterday evening just before sunset, and I was so enraptured by melancholy that I missed the beauty right outside my window.
My sleep was once again poor, although instead of being awake for an extended period I kept popping awake for a few minutes at a time before returning to my dreams. One of the more interesting ones was a “zoodunnit” (original concept donut steel) about a murder at a zookeeper’s wedding, in which the guests not only had to figure out which among them killed the zookeeper, but also determine which animal was the “murder weapon”. That dream was led into by I suppose a retelling of LOTR set in a present-day AU, but that’s about as concrete as I can get without divulging too much.
What good is a golden voice if you don’t have the right words?
As I type this it is 8:20, the Market-Frankford was rather swift, and I’m waiting on the High Speed Tram to depart 69th Street. (The train departed at 8:25.) The sky is gunmetal blue with the brightness turned up until it’s almost pale, and the clouds are faintly textured like the rings of some colossal tree.
As I write this, it is almost noon. I’m ahead (and taking lunch), so I can jot down a few things about my day so far. The train was on time, and I’m having a good hair day. I got my employee ID, finally, and it’s still startling how thin I’ve gotten compared to where I was last summer. I’m debating whether to have a Red Velvet cake once I reach 250, somebody that I used to know suggested it and it’s a good/fun idea. I’ll certainly make a blog post about it once I pass the threshold. I’m wearing the same outfit today that I wore then: pale green sweater, pale blue shirt, white tie. The problem is that with how compressed the image is and the detail loss from when it was printed, the gleam in my eyes isn’t visible, so my expression is way too intense, like blue fires burning through the shadows cast by my brow.
It may or may not be a popular and well-known fact but I have mixed feelings about my eyes. They’re not bad by any stretch, the same with the rest of my features (as distinct as they may be), I’m definitely handsome. But my eyes betray too much, or don’t betray enough at times, so better to wear teashades to hide them and view the world as per 1 Corinthians 13:12.
Lunch today is some pumpkin seeds. I plan on having a more substantial dinner before D&D (not Shake Shack), maybe grill up the pork I dethawed yesterday.
As I write this the clock just struck four, and I sit here waiting for the tram. The air is a hot soup, although the breeze is cool up here on the platform. I’m considering the 11th of July for the second pool party seeing as how the Insta vote was split between Independence Day and the 18th. In true fence-sitter fashion, the Truth Is In The Middle™. As I write this, I just boarded the Tram, it’s almost quarter past 4, and I look kinda silly, my perfect hair from earlier no longer perfect. On the bright side I have a tentative date scheduled for a haircut, the day before Father’s Day. I do plan on visiting my dad.
Appendix: Orowich and Its Gods (WIP)
Where the wind comes rolling down the plains.
Orowich is the name given to the vast grasslands of northeastern Maelathor. It’s bounded to the north by the Jagged Isles and to the southwest by the Central Ranges, and gives way in the west to the Sea of Sand and in the south to the mangroves of Upper Aguaban.
To the Gherdunnics of Northhand, Orowich is only “Around Here” in the sense that they share a continent; its denizens are lumped together as barbarians, as goblins (although the situation is far more complex), with strange looks and strange customs and strange gods. Orowich is Foreign Parts™ and its peoples the Hated Foreigner™ relative to Gherdun.
Of Orcs And Men
Of the Gens Gigantes, orcs and humans share perhaps the closest origins to one another, probably.
The dwarves tell it thus, with most of their biases scrubbed out: in the Prearchaedian, when the star giants warred against the drakoliths for dominion over the world, the star giants saw promise in a kind of bipedal plains ape which strode across the “green horizon” of eastern Graennarune. Through aberrant magics the giants warped the flesh of these apes into forms which better suited their purposes. These efforts produced two kinds of being. Their first attempts were “failures”, cast aside to become the ancestors of humanity. Later attempts, however, were “successes”, and so the star giants had their fodder: the first goblinoids.
The Horseclans
In contrast to the centralized hydraulic state of the Old Empire’s core (the Golden River Basin, which flows to Gherdun), the predominant mode of subsistence in Orowich is herding.
God-blins (To-Do: Change Title)
TL;DR: use the Norse gods from the PHB but change the names, generally use the Slavic form (i.e. Perun for Thor, etc.) but the closer one gets to Aguaban the more Baltic (i.e. Perkunas for Thor, etc.) the names get.
Sierpinski Tetrahedron 