Setsuled's Journal

Sometimes to get anything done, I have to get very far from the computer. So yesterday I drove to North County Fair mall, about forty five miles away, and sat writing in the almost deserted Nordstrom's cafe. It so wants to be a restaurant, but I just ordered the unlimited coffee refills for a dollar twenty-five and sat in a dark booth next to a window. It was constantly threatening to rain yesterday and there was a cosy gloom outside.

I'm pretty happy with the story I've started--I genuinely think the concept has potential. We'll see if I can take the ball and run with it. I thought about it a lot while I was driving and I spent some time walking around the mall, just thinking about it, too. Yet it wasn't quite what I'd anticipated once I got started--it's far more comedic than I thought it was going to be, but I kind of like that.

What can I say about Second Life? Seems I can remember a time I was fancy as you please, strutting about in an honest to God tuxedo, even, yet now I am, well, an honest soul yet! But--on hard times, yes, hard times. Time was I could walk into a pub and gets me own drink, now it's by only the kindness of Lady Paine that I might get a bit of rum. Gracious Lady Paine! A roof, too, over my head, she gives me--she says something about ghosts or mummies or such like, but I saw nothing of the kind, nothing of the kind at all. Don't know why the lady couldn't stay here. Why, I thinks ol' Lehagvoi'll be back on his feet again any day now, now that I've got a roof and rum . . .