educational
Nov. 26th, 2010 05:55 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
whitereflectionJ.K.'s Solstice Hard Cider (http://organicscrumpy.com/) is damned amazing, especially warmed. Tasty, I say, taaaaaasty. I almost never drink, and one reason is because it's hard to find alcoholic things where I like the flavor. This was awesome. Bought another bottle at the store today. :| I rationalized it as it's only going to be around a short time during the holidays. Split the one last night with mom, but she only wanted a small amount, so I ended up with about 2/3 the bottle. I'm heavy and was quite full thanks to so much foods, but yeah, I was very...mellow. :p (But truly, so very tasty.)
Re: WoW. Finally got my dk to 80, so I can ignore him until I level his alchemy come Cata. Am continuing to fall so hard for the new Orgrimmar. And ohman, I am kind of stunned at the detail they put into the female goblins' hair (no pcs yet, but the npcs all have the new appearances). It really puts the hair on other female toons to shame--really hoping the hairstyles get shared via barbershop with belves and nelves at the least.
Definitely avoided shopping areas today, though got a good number of gift things ordered online. So I'm doing much better than many previous years. And it's past Thanksgiving so I can allow myself to listen to my Christmas music YAY \o/ Happy happy.
Poetry for mininano/wrisomifu, the sort that could be read as original but is really about Dean&Sam. :p
Day 26 11/26/10 3:04-?5
commencing countdown engines on
This is how you learn to fly
without wings:
You've never had any of your
own, though angels and devils
once tried to paint them in pretty
pictures on your back. You knew
better than to let them, because
you could feel their promises like
a yoke over your shoulders, chains
and fetters knitting into your bones,
Lilliput-binding you down even
as they whispered legends about
all the ways you'd soar.
The nearest either of you have
gotten to wings is the crumpled
drink can tossed into the back
seat, gas station energy, or the
basket full of grease and fire that
tasted like salvation you had at
some bar named Bar back east.
You don't need them anyway;
all you need is your hand held out
the open window, wind cupped
in your palm, catching you up
in the net of the sky when
you angle your hand just right.
There were once dangerous
times when you flew alone, arms
stretched out wide below the artificial
horizon. No one steered you out of
the storms. Now there's you and
him, your copilot, and you think
you finally believe he's here to
stay. You've both got an arm out
the window, each with one hand
on the wheel, and this time you
skirt thunderheads with ease.
There's endless highway
ahead of you:
tarmac-smooth and runway-straight.
Gun the engine. Floor it
until it roars a jet's scream, until
his laugh's torn away by the wind
and there's only stratosphere
behind your eyes.
(261)
***
(edits 12-2)
Re: WoW. Finally got my dk to 80, so I can ignore him until I level his alchemy come Cata. Am continuing to fall so hard for the new Orgrimmar. And ohman, I am kind of stunned at the detail they put into the female goblins' hair (no pcs yet, but the npcs all have the new appearances). It really puts the hair on other female toons to shame--really hoping the hairstyles get shared via barbershop with belves and nelves at the least.
Definitely avoided shopping areas today, though got a good number of gift things ordered online. So I'm doing much better than many previous years. And it's past Thanksgiving so I can allow myself to listen to my Christmas music YAY \o/ Happy happy.
Poetry for mininano/wrisomifu, the sort that could be read as original but is really about Dean&Sam. :p
Day 26 11/26/10 3:04-?5
commencing countdown engines on
This is how you learn to fly
without wings:
You've never had any of your
own, though angels and devils
once tried to paint them in pretty
pictures on your back. You knew
better than to let them, because
you could feel their promises like
a yoke over your shoulders, chains
and fetters knitting into your bones,
Lilliput-binding you down even
as they whispered legends about
all the ways you'd soar.
The nearest either of you have
gotten to wings is the crumpled
drink can tossed into the back
seat, gas station energy, or the
basket full of grease and fire that
tasted like salvation you had at
some bar named Bar back east.
You don't need them anyway;
all you need is your hand held out
the open window, wind cupped
in your palm, catching you up
in the net of the sky when
you angle your hand just right.
There were once dangerous
times when you flew alone, arms
stretched out wide below the artificial
horizon. No one steered you out of
the storms. Now there's you and
him, your copilot, and you think
you finally believe he's here to
stay. You've both got an arm out
the window, each with one hand
on the wheel, and this time you
skirt thunderheads with ease.
There's endless highway
ahead of you:
tarmac-smooth and runway-straight.
Gun the engine. Floor it
until it roars a jet's scream, until
his laugh's torn away by the wind
and there's only stratosphere
behind your eyes.
(261)
***
(edits 12-2)
