5 Things About LARPs and Hurricanes and Assorted Other Stuff

1. I played in a LARP two weekends ago. It was a different kind of game than ones I’d done in the past. The game is set in post-apocalyptic America where most of the population is either dead or Infected – like the “zombies” in 28 Days Later, fast and angry – and you are trying to get by and survive along with a group of other would-be survivors. It took place on a campground that had a replica ship, castle, and fort on the land, all of which were incorporated into the game as actual locations to explore and fight in. Combat was simulated using Airsoft weapons from pistols to shotguns to assault rifles along with “boffer” weapons – essentially replica weapons made with PVC and foam padding so it doesn’t hurt when you accidentally closeline someone.

I had a fucking blast.

You Can Call Us Crazy, That’s Fine

Lady Aravan and I put our house up for sale about three weeks ago.  It generated a lot of interest – and continues to do so – and we did receive an early offer (that was low to the point of absurdity), so it was suggested that we begin to take a closer look at some properties in the areas we were interested in.  My Lady and I did have some specific criteria that we were looking for: land (enough land that our neighbors wouldn’t be on top of us, and if we couldn’t see them at all, so much the better), a good house, and not terribly far away from our respective jobs (which in many cases were in opposite directions of where we were looking).

So, we set up two appointments, one for a house we’d been looking at for close to a year that helped inspire us to want to move in the first place, and then another one, a bit closer to civilization.  The first house had a beautiful 6-acre lot, with nice pasture area and a great outbuilding.  Problem was, the house was so bad and unusable that I’d have preferred living in the outbuilding and letting the animals live in the house.

The second one, though.  Oh my.

 

A Good Weekend

It was a good weekend, but one that didn’t last quite long enough (not that they ever do).  I hadn’t mentioned it here before (I don’t think, anyway – continuity is hard), but Lady Aravan and I have put our house up for sale.  That means that every weekend and some weeknights, we have to scrub the house down, gather our beloved pack of pooches, and get out of sight so people can look at the house.  We got an offer that we’ve been countering and going back and forth over the last few days, so we’re hopeful that it sells soon.  We are looking for a rural farmette in PA, or failing that, just a private location with some acreage.  Yes, I hate people that much, and yes, it will be key during a zombie invasion.

Priorities.

Adventures in Cooking

I am not a foodie in the food snob sense, but I do love food, no question.  I’ll try anything at least once – and this after a childhood so picky that my name might as well have been “No Potatoes and No Beans”, my response whenever I was asked what I wanted for dinner – and I’ve experimented a lot more in last 6 months, making hummus and homemade mayo and stuff like that.  This past week, though, I did some pretty cool stuff that I ended up really happy with.

Tracing My Bongo Burgers: A Day on the Farm, Part 2

This series of posts describes my recent trip to Bobolink Dairy Farm.  I decided to break it into chunks because I apparently have a lot to say about it.  Today’s entry chronicles the journey itself.

Dawn broke on the big day as we woke up to head to the dairy.  Actually, dawn didn’t break until well after we’d woken up, bu that just made it feel all the more farmier.  A quick breakfast (cereal and a protein shake for me; leftover homemade pizza and cottage cheese for the Lady.  Seriously.) followed soon after, and then we got bundled up.  We knew it’d be in the 30s and we’d be tramping in snow, thanks to an email from Jonathan White, the cheesemaker and half the head of Bobolink Dairy Farm, the other half being Nina, his wife, who bears the lovely description of Dancemaker on the website since she is a ballet dancer as well, and who teaches breadmaking classes.

Tracing My Bongo Burgers: A Day on the Farm Part 1

This series of posts describes my recent trip to Bobolink Dairy Farm.  I decided to break it into chunks because I apparently have a lot to say about it.  Today’s entry is sort of an introduction and background.

For Valentine’s Day this year, Lady Aravan got me the coolest present ever: a trip to a farm to take a cheesemaking class.

Now, to a lot of people, that might sound like hell on earth, or at least dull and pointless.  I mean, Wal-Mart has all the cheese you’ll ever need, right?  Perfectly yellow, helpfully shrink-wrapped, every single one of each variety tasting exactly the same as all the others.  Such perfect uniformity is yummy!

Being Sick

You heard it here first: getting sick royally blows.

No, no, bear with me.  All that excitement you feel at the idea of a sore throat, hacking cough, a nose that goes from plugged tighter than the vacuum seal on the goddamn International Space Station to a sudden pouring rush like the freaking Niagara?  See, it actually isn’t all fun and games and getting off of work and sleeping like a cold remedy commercial.  It actually really really sucks.  It’s nothing like you see on TV.

Totally blows.

Xmas

After hearing multiple admonishments to help “put Christ back into Christmas”, I’ve decided that I would do my part.  From now on, I will be referring to the holiday that I celebrate every December as Xmas.  It has nothing to do with mangers or nativities or loose women claiming they got knocked up even though they were virgins, I swear, Joseph, really.  It has to do with the pure essence of the season, the thing that puts a warm glow in the heart and the bright glimmer of joy in the eye. 

I am, of course, talking about toys.

A Month After Hitting My Weight Goal

It’s been about a month since I hit my weight goal.  I say “about” because I can’t remember exactly when I did and am WAY too lazy to actually do, you know, research.  I’ll call it a month, since it’s a great way to shorthand it.  I think it’s close.  Well anyway, it’s been a month since I hit my goal weight.  I wondered what would happen when I did.  Would things change?  Would I go back to old habits?

Turns out, no, everything seems to be the same.  That’s it!  Thanks for reading.

As Sam Said, Well, I’m Back

NaNoWriMo is over.  I lost.

It was a struggle, even at first.  I didn’t want it to interfere with my life too much, which is laughable in a way – I want to write 50,000 words in 30 days, but I don’t want to spend the time doing it.  Mostly, I didn’t want to interrupt my home life, which I enjoy far too much to spend solitarily plunking away on a laptop.  Plus, my laptop doesn’t actually have Office installed, which meant using a bunch of workarounds and additional pain-in-the-ass measures that made it more difficult than it needed to be.  Excuses?  You bet.  I’m chock full of ‘em.