urban-faery

so i'm staring at my roommate, who is standing in the doorway and seems unsure whether amused or exasperated is the appropriate facial expression. there's a funny smell coming from the kitchen and i've got the sneaking suspicion i forgot something. again. 

(not my fault. really. i swear. i'd been on the phone with the internet tech help for upwards of three hours only to be told the whole reason i can't access the internet is because someone, somewhere gave me the wrong information when i was configuring the router. three hours. gone. all because one of their tech support folk is borderline illiterate and had been reading me the wrong password. all. fucking. morning. the sheer effort of not tracking them down and shoving said router where the sun don't shine was taking up most of my attention.) 

but back to this whole "amused-exasperated-roommate" thing. see, my brother is a brilliant cook. lasagne, fancy pasta dishes, stuffed chicken...he can do all that. unfortunately, there just wasn't enough 'kitchen wizard' in the gene pool for me to get in on the action, too. my roommate knows all of this, having seen my scattered attempts to bend pot and oven to my will and overheard exasperated cries of, "how the fuck can my kid brother whip such-and-such up and i've just destroyed three perfectly good chocolate pancakes?!". me in a kitchen. it's...not a pretty sight. so when he shows me the pot he's about to throw out, neither of us is overly surprised to see it's a far cry from its original silvery colour. the bottom is charred black and actually looking thinner in places. the sides are a mix of black and burnt smoky grey. it's borderline miraculous the thing is still pot-shaped.

in the face of such carnage, i really, truly wish i had a better explanation than, "so i was making tea..."

one of these days, i swear, i will find a town that feels like home.
i will stop living from an old duffel bag like a runaway in
progress
and i
will grow roots.
i will attach myself to things and let myself fall utterly in love with people around me.
(maybe.)
until then...

well, until then i'll turn it over to merle:

"my hat don't hang on the same nail too long
my ears can't stand to hear the same old song
an' I don't leave the highway long enough to bog down in the mud
'cos I've got ramblin' fever in my blood"

one of these days, i swear, i will find a town that feels like home.
i will stop living from an old duffel bag like a runaway in
progress
and i
will grow roots.
i will attach myself to things and let myself fall utterly in love with people around me.
(maybe.)
until then...

well, until then i'll turn it over to merle:

"my hat don't hang on the same nail too long
my ears can't stand to hear the same old song
an' I don't leave the highway long enough to bog down in the mud
'cos I've got ramblin' fever in my blood"

i've taken to the weird and delightful world of webcomics!  after many delays and deliberations, it can be found here: betwixt.webcomic.ws/comics/fir…
the characters, i assure you, will not be unfamiliar.

in other online (mis)adventures, i've spent years discovering various cities through the lens of a camera. now, i'm selling discoveries in the form of blank cards and postcards. the shop is slowly being stocked, and you can see a preview of what's to come on the facebook page, blackbyrd studios .

once upon a time, a little moth lost herself
and packed her bags and left
and found herself oceans away
and let herself be astonished

theanansifiles.wordpress.com/   

(let's be serious, i'm just killing time and losing arguments to myself.)