Illidion the Snout (Part 1/2)

This is Dion, full name Illidion Stormrage. Today we will have an entry exploring what it is about the Terorrist that we love. (Of course, our next entry on Dion will be one on how he enrages us.)

He can be quite the charmer.

And this is his usually wet (and hence cold) nose. The Murloc and I have a running joke about how his body exists to drag his nose around, and The Murloc has already christened him Illidion “Snout” Stormrage.

Also, meet his floppy ears. The Murloc likes to hold them up (a la Dumbo the Flying Elephant) and present to us “Dion the Flying Nun”! Which, of course, has raised discussions about how that might lead to him being confused about his sexuality. (However, we did catch him humping The Murloc’s leg when he (Murloc) was hugging me so…) His floppy ears are extremely adorable, especially when he’s running around. Flop flop flop!

This is one of his hindpaws. With The Murloc nuzzling and tickling his snout in the background. I don’t have much love for his paws – I just liked the perspective of this one. But there’s definitely puppy love going on between The Murloc and Illidion…

Finally, this is us sleeping squeezed together on the long leather couch. Was cold, he was warm, end of story. Picture sneakily taken by The Murloc.

He can be a lot of trouble, but as The Murloc said, “My life could be a lot easier without him, but I don’t regret my decision (to bring him home).”

(Sadly, we never quite feel that whenever we sight a pile of stinking puppy poo in the house, or a pee puddle… We make bad puppy owners. I mean, we play WoW at night and for the most part the man in the house don’t give a damn about him then! But this is a story for another entry…)

Dion the Terrorist

Wow, it’s been six days since my last entry!

I was, however, understandably busy of course. /cough.

(Now I know why Qantas gets booed online by so many Australians, despite being the national carrier. I managed to miss my connecting flight to Melbourne from Perth because, among other things, there was only one person at the check-in counter for a long line. Was a very bad evening, that one. Painfully traumatizing. I reckon I’m so tired still because of all the emotions running amok that day. The anxiety of being alone in a freezing (to me) country is something I’ll never forget, and have no wish to relive.)

But that’s a story for another day – I want to show Dion the Terrorist to you people.

You and I

Well, it is the last night before I leave, and you are outside with your friend – the one friend who’s in her thirties, and can’t stop talking in the style of a kid, perpetually trying to “act cute”, as we call it. Oh, I’ve never told you I really disliked her, even more so after that trip to Hong Kong? Well, now I’m “telling” you.

I’d passed on sleeping over at a friend’s place because I thought, why aggravate the hurt I’ve done to you? I’ll spend the last night home with you, sharing ice cream.

But nooooo, she’s over, she’s been here for coming to two hours and you’re not making any effort to ask her to leave. I’m not sure if I should be thankful for this quiet time… though “quiet” is relative – you and her were squealing and giggling like secondary school girls over the sporty Wii games earlier, and I nearly wanted to just get out of the house. But no, that would reflect badly on you. So I stay.

I stay, clothes half packed – really just need to repack the luggage after having to rummage through it earlier – and update WoW, of all things.

You’d think, it’s my last night here, you’d finally make the effort to spend some time with me before I pass out on the bed, wake up earlier than you tomorrow, and you never see me again (well, at least not for a year).

To each to her own I guess. This might be your way of coping.

Me? I can’t wait to get out and make my mistakes.

Photography Mistakes to Avoid

So I collected my 1st two rolls of film taken with my Vivitar UWS yesterday, and decided that I could give the world an illustration-aided list of Mistakes To Avoid.

Alignment

No matter what, as long as you are taking a picture with no non-living aid (ie, tripod), your perfectly composed alignment can change drastically when you press the shutter. Presumably when you press said shutter too hard and tilt the camera.

Fingers

You’d think it’s practically an idiot-proof tip, but as this picture proves, it is not.

Rainy Days

Don’t seem to be good days for the Vivitar UWS… but great for gloomy pictures.

Sunny Days

Are okay as long as you don’t be an idiot like me and point the lens directly at the sunlight. Straight way to disco-light hell.

Mystery Pictures

Do appear. I just can’t remember what the hell this picture is of… Or who took it either!! I think it’s Sotong – he was having fun with my Vivitar when I met up with him one day.

And this, ladies and gentlemen, is the only surviving image of The Murloc while he was in Singapore. Thank god I didn’t collect the film earlier, I’d be beating myself up inside if this is all I had to look at while away from my Murloc… (I’ll be in Aus tomorrow night!)

We took a “normal” picture – aided by a stranger, but it’s not in my negatives… How odd!

Well, that’s the end for now – but we’ll see after I develop my next roll in Australia…

My Fault

I feel like shit everytime this happens.

He says something.

I respond with what I see as an “amusing/humourous” comment.

He gets a bit defensive.

I try to explain, but he doesn’t understand.

Then, I give up, and tell him, Fine, just think whatever you want, you’re right, I’m wrong.

Cue Moments with Zioncross, hey?

So I feel hurt (key word here being “feel”) and I mention it.

He turns around and lays it out from his point of view — which obviously shows me, clear as day, that I’m the insulting party here.

I attempt once more to re-explain, then give up. What’s the point? I tell him to think whatever he wants.

He (sarcastically) thanks me for dismissing him, and goes offline immediately.

I proceed to slap myself in the face and generally beat myself up.

Things shouldn’t be this way, he’s not Zion and hasn’t given me shit like he did. But here I am giving him the shits. It hurts both of us because we sometimes don’t communicate on the same wavelength and I don’t realize it till the damage’s been done. I’d like to tell him I’m really sorry, but I don’t know how to explain. Perhaps my sense of humour is just too warped…

I almost wish Wednesday would come sooner still. I feel unbearably lonely when this keeps happening, over and over — entirely because it’s my fault.