I have mentioned my sort-of Squire a few times throughout this. And after the discussion we had last night, I think it's about time I say a few words about him.
He was good enough to set up the page layout for me. I sculpt, carve, kill. I don't do html. Latin and Classical Greek and English in all its variations have been more than enough languages for me. I leave the technical language bullshit to someone else. Yeah, good for you for figuring it out, my "squire." He's a lazy ass but he's actually kind of useful.
Yeah, he's my liason between me and the rest of you. He's my PR guy, will occasionally come on here to unscreen comments and do technical bullshit.
First time I met him, I was... taken aback by the similarities. He and I are frighteningly alike. Astrid didn't believe it either. And I'm not just talking about attitude the size of Alaska. His name makes him sound like a Finnish super-hero too. It's also very useful that he's pagan. I don't have to destroy any fragile ideas he may hold about bastardised organised religion.
Okay, fellow scum of the earth, the little guy is babbling at me in Macedonian and I have to go see what he wants.
~Z
Thursday, November 16, 2006
Thursday, November 2, 2006
Halloween
Halloween is an experience, let me tell you.
Granted, it's not as bad as Mardi Gras, but still....
In Alaska, living out in the middle of nowhere, in a place that only fractionally counts as being in the area of Fairbanks, there wasn't much call for trick-or-treaters. So, Halloween was something I didn't know much about. What was I supposed to do, leave the light on?
Because the baby is getting older, Astrid and I decided to take the child out.
~Note about the little one~
I don't talk much about my kid. I know a few of you have been asking, but no. I didn't have a childhood, no role models in my life, no good examples to follow, but one of the sure things I am going to do is protect my kid. Sure, maybe most of you can't get to Mt. Olympus, and if you did, probably wouldn't know what the hell to do once you got there -- but on the offchance that we're down among mortals, or you are one of the few with the access key-card to Mt. Olympus' luxury honeymoon suite all expenses paid, I'm not saying anything more about my child than the bare basics. I'll spout off all I feel like about my own dubious existence, but my kid is not a subject for this journal. Even that author-woman who has been letting out a shit-load of secrets and fabricating a few stories of her own, at my demand, changed his name. You didn't seriously think we'd call our child Bob.... did you? No, seriously, my kid doesn't get jeopardised and I won't do it here.
~Back to Halloween~
So we took the baby. He got dressed up in a little cherub outfit -- toga (Greek-style) and golden wings. Astrid didn't seem to feel Eros would mind, considering Eros gets blitzed every so often and does his own Michelangelo impression with whatever's handy to serve as a large adult diaper. I've been unfortunate enough to witness it.
Astrid was going to simply wear her typical Olympus garb, but that wasn't happening. After all, she was requiring that I ''let loose'' and dress up too (yeah, you can imagine how that request went over). She finally decided on being Sarah from Labyrinth.
~Labyrith tangent~
Anyone see that movie? Was Jim Henson on a trip when he decided to do this? I mean, I fully expected it of David Bowie.... but... Kermit? Can you see Kermit wanting any part of this? I can't. And that little frog thought he had too much trouble being green... But, I have to admit, I liked it when Astrid sat me down and turned it on and nestled herself under my arm and against my chest. She originally suggested I be Jareth, and though it is generally assumed -- and I agree -- that I am insane, it's a great relief that I don't consider myself as crazy as David Bowie.
~Labyrinth tanget done~
So, you've asking yourselves "Wait, *you* Mr. Anti-social Former-DH of Questionable Sanity dressed up?" And essentially, the answer to that is yes. Why? Not for any masochistic desire of my own, but because I have a child, and not wishing to be even an ounce of the same worthless calibre *my* father was, I will do anything -- yes, *anything* -- to make sure my child grows up with as many good experiences as possible, even if that includes said-father to crack his marble-veneer and paint himself for the holiday.
Which I did. I was The Crow.
~Tanget on the Crow~
That movie was probably based off the whole DH experience.I don't know who let it leak to movie producers, but shit, that struck a little too close to the truth for the way things happen. Sure, it's not a crow that brings us back, and we've pledged our souls to eternal service in the meantime, but the Act of Vengence stays the same. The miraculous healing abilities stay the same (unless you're like me and get screwed over on that one). And your bad-ass-o-meter fluid breaks glass, it's gone so high.
~Crow tanget over as well~
So I was the Crow. Eric Draven. And surprisingly, I didn't feel all that compromised by the face paint. After all, he is an imposing figure who, like me, sought revenge -- even if mine wasn't for quite so selfless a cause. I just wanted someone to pay. And the Crow certainly made them pay, in ways from which I could have taken a few good lessons myself. I painted my face, put on a torn black t-shirt, taped up a pair of torn leather pants, put on the thigh-length leather jacket and carried a guitar around on my shoulder all night. Only thing wrong was the hair length. I'm letting it grow out again, and it grows fast, but not that fast. The goatee disappeared for the occasion as well.
It was relatively uneventful. Many people commented on our costumes -- when they had courage enough to get within seven feet of me -- and the kid seemed to enjoy it, saying "Happy Halloween" and "Trick or Treat" in Classical Greek or Atlantean or whatever language happened to come into his head, sometimes mixing languages as well. Eventually he got it right.
Signing off to take the kid to Italy for All Soul's Day,
Z
Granted, it's not as bad as Mardi Gras, but still....
In Alaska, living out in the middle of nowhere, in a place that only fractionally counts as being in the area of Fairbanks, there wasn't much call for trick-or-treaters. So, Halloween was something I didn't know much about. What was I supposed to do, leave the light on?
Because the baby is getting older, Astrid and I decided to take the child out.
~Note about the little one~
I don't talk much about my kid. I know a few of you have been asking, but no. I didn't have a childhood, no role models in my life, no good examples to follow, but one of the sure things I am going to do is protect my kid. Sure, maybe most of you can't get to Mt. Olympus, and if you did, probably wouldn't know what the hell to do once you got there -- but on the offchance that we're down among mortals, or you are one of the few with the access key-card to Mt. Olympus' luxury honeymoon suite all expenses paid, I'm not saying anything more about my child than the bare basics. I'll spout off all I feel like about my own dubious existence, but my kid is not a subject for this journal. Even that author-woman who has been letting out a shit-load of secrets and fabricating a few stories of her own, at my demand, changed his name. You didn't seriously think we'd call our child Bob.... did you? No, seriously, my kid doesn't get jeopardised and I won't do it here.
~Back to Halloween~
So we took the baby. He got dressed up in a little cherub outfit -- toga (Greek-style) and golden wings. Astrid didn't seem to feel Eros would mind, considering Eros gets blitzed every so often and does his own Michelangelo impression with whatever's handy to serve as a large adult diaper. I've been unfortunate enough to witness it.
Astrid was going to simply wear her typical Olympus garb, but that wasn't happening. After all, she was requiring that I ''let loose'' and dress up too (yeah, you can imagine how that request went over). She finally decided on being Sarah from Labyrinth.
~Labyrith tangent~
Anyone see that movie? Was Jim Henson on a trip when he decided to do this? I mean, I fully expected it of David Bowie.... but... Kermit? Can you see Kermit wanting any part of this? I can't. And that little frog thought he had too much trouble being green... But, I have to admit, I liked it when Astrid sat me down and turned it on and nestled herself under my arm and against my chest. She originally suggested I be Jareth, and though it is generally assumed -- and I agree -- that I am insane, it's a great relief that I don't consider myself as crazy as David Bowie.
~Labyrinth tanget done~
So, you've asking yourselves "Wait, *you* Mr. Anti-social Former-DH of Questionable Sanity dressed up?" And essentially, the answer to that is yes. Why? Not for any masochistic desire of my own, but because I have a child, and not wishing to be even an ounce of the same worthless calibre *my* father was, I will do anything -- yes, *anything* -- to make sure my child grows up with as many good experiences as possible, even if that includes said-father to crack his marble-veneer and paint himself for the holiday.
Which I did. I was The Crow.
~Tanget on the Crow~
That movie was probably based off the whole DH experience.I don't know who let it leak to movie producers, but shit, that struck a little too close to the truth for the way things happen. Sure, it's not a crow that brings us back, and we've pledged our souls to eternal service in the meantime, but the Act of Vengence stays the same. The miraculous healing abilities stay the same (unless you're like me and get screwed over on that one). And your bad-ass-o-meter fluid breaks glass, it's gone so high.
~Crow tanget over as well~
So I was the Crow. Eric Draven. And surprisingly, I didn't feel all that compromised by the face paint. After all, he is an imposing figure who, like me, sought revenge -- even if mine wasn't for quite so selfless a cause. I just wanted someone to pay. And the Crow certainly made them pay, in ways from which I could have taken a few good lessons myself. I painted my face, put on a torn black t-shirt, taped up a pair of torn leather pants, put on the thigh-length leather jacket and carried a guitar around on my shoulder all night. Only thing wrong was the hair length. I'm letting it grow out again, and it grows fast, but not that fast. The goatee disappeared for the occasion as well.
It was relatively uneventful. Many people commented on our costumes -- when they had courage enough to get within seven feet of me -- and the kid seemed to enjoy it, saying "Happy Halloween" and "Trick or Treat" in Classical Greek or Atlantean or whatever language happened to come into his head, sometimes mixing languages as well. Eventually he got it right.
Signing off to take the kid to Italy for All Soul's Day,
Z
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