Moving Hchoms

I've shifted Hchom over to wordpress, to better match my (still in-progess) art website, and so I can rant at length under handy cuts, and so forth. I've also given it a nice, tidy url of its own,

hchom.com

Onesie Dress

Lately I've had this uncharacteristic urge to find (and presumably wear) a dress. It might be the shaved head, which renders all my baggy, androgynous clothing somewhat more androgynous than I'd actually like. Anyway, I thought a bit about what kind of dress I'd realistically be able to pull off, and I decided that it would have to be something out of my little-old-lady spinster dreams (looking a bit wobbly at the moment, but hey, there's still hope). So. Some kind of cozy knit. Definitely long.

I present the onesie dress, complete with totally unnecessary bum flap. I'm assuming that any little-old-lady future of mine must involve leather jackets, hairless cats, and whatever absurd fantasy accessories I'm no longer too embarrassed to sport in public. Now I'd like some brilliant Japanese or Swedish designer to make this, please, and send me one. Yohji Yamamoto. Acne. Whichever, I'm not picky.

Grey

Everything I wear is either grey, or striped. I feel like this must be the wardrobe equivalent of being a conservative politician in the late 1800's. Or something stodgily along those lines.

OK, that's not a very appealing example. My point is, dude, quit starching your handkerchiefs and get a life (That's me addressing the imaginary politician [who is also me, following the analogy, but let's not get confused]. Anyway, just to be clear, I don't own handkerchiefs, though give me a few years and we'll see what rolls).

Chocolate

Normally I'd say that I don't much care for chocolate, except in its darkest, most expensive solid form. This past week, though, I've had the most absurd, Cathy-comic-ish fixation with the stuff. WAUGHH, for serious. I think I'm done now, but it was a fine, fine ride while it lasted.

Bad Jacket

I bought a Rag & Bone jacket the other day. I feel like it has a bit of a bad boy thing going - not bad boy in the motorcycle gang creaky leather sense. Rather, bad little boy spoiled with treats, sticking gum on his teacher's chair. Speaking of goblin school.
This also works as an accurate self portrait (of my soul, at the very least), minus the fat sacks of goblin silver.



I replaced the buttons, though, because I'm obsessive like that. Wooden buttons make me all tittering and weak in the knees.

Shiny Hunting

Two new shiny things for my hoard. I already can't remember what type the bottom one is, but the top one is fire quartz. It's hard to see here, but it has mysterious, translucent layers of orange and blue.
I'd like to learn how to polish and facet stones, at some point. Also, how to pick locks. Where the hell do you find teachers for that stuff? I need a school run by goblins.



The weather is absurdly nice. I would sacrifice a thousand kittens to be at the cabin right now.

Fantasy Honey

The other day I was out walking, and I encountered this little stand selling honey (and it was the stand doing the selling, because it wasn't manned by anyone). It may have been the 13-degrees-and-sunshine-in-February vitamin D high, but I thought it was the most amazing thing I'd ever found. See above. At least that's what it looked like, as far as I was concerned. I imagine it appears when the moon is full, and only if the person searching for it is Pure of Heart. I promptly fed its little slot a tidy $6, and ran off with my honey.

And it turns out to be very tasty honey too. Sort of lemony. I like it as much as my favourite, mountain honey. All honey has secrets, but mountains have the most secrets of all.