This is what it said on the back of the truck that we did, indeed, pass on the drive back from the airport. It knows I'm foxy, that's why.
Hello darling people, this is your
imperious leader recording her captain's log from Nimbin, Australia, as she reclines in the sunshine far from tectonic plates and their naughty little games. (I can't even begin to tell you how amazing it feels to be without earthquakes. I've been here a whole week and there has been NOT ONE. This is incredible
to me and so good for my nerves which tend to lean towards being frayed even without the city tumbling down around me every five minutes. But still I keep eyeing up unsecured items dubiously. They are not to be trusted.)
Alison was here for the first week, but today we dropped her off at the airport and she'll never ever come back ever again. In fact, she'll currently be in Sydney (I think) or maybe almost on the flight to New Zealand.
I have been existing on a diet of fresh fruit, Caesar salad, and alcohol, and it's pretty much the best thing ever actually. My liver gets such a workout here although last night I decided to slow down a bit. I cannot keep up with dad and Gwennie. They have titanium well-practised livers! Mine is merely human! It wants to live!
The night before last they had a Viking feast, which turned out to be completely awesome. Everyone dressed up and there was legs of lamb and whole big fishes and a ridiculously long feast table with a huge roaring fire at the end. GLORIOUS. Then near the end of the night Alison and I managed to get people playing Tablero
which is always so much fun, and then dad thought we were being pussies with it so we started playing with whiskey and tequila instead of the lighter stuff. HELLS YEAH. Tablero should always be played with hard liquor and anyone who says differently might be a medical professional or concerned for your physical wellbeing. What would they know.
The booze we played with was home made, as dad's now got a friend with a still who provides four litres of it a week and then they flavour it into pretend things. The tequila is a bit off but might just need some time. The fake whiskeys are pretty good though. But our attempt at mango liquor needs to be learned from by future generations to keep them from making such a terrible mistake. I think only of the children here.
(It is possible, just maybe, that under the influence of viking boozing it up I texted some people with promises of my anatomy. Not that I would ever do such a thing. I am a lady
. But to the people who did
get those texts: How you
doin'?)( Collapse )
Tomorrow we will... do something that most likely involves alcohol as that is now the pattern forms here. I like this pattern. I will read my book (Currently flicking between Catherine Valente's Habitation of the Blessed
and Geoffrey Miller's The Mating Mind
, both of which are fabulous because Valente is a goddess and books about evolutionary psychology gives me warm fuzzies.) Or I will do something productive and adult.
I will roleplay.