xyzzysqrl

Well, I was writing a post about Final Fantasy XIV in this spot, but I've just dropped my preorder due to the whole "main questline forces you to do a group dungeon" business. What a shame, too, because it was doing everything so very RIGHT until then. If you're less allergic to people than I am I highly advise picking that up. Uh, join us later for more of me falling completely in love with a game, then twenty minutes later falling rapidly back out of love with it, I guess.

So hey. Animal Crossing.

Ugh, I start the day kind of moody and vindictive, and the first thing I see when I step outside?

Wow. The weather is terrible. I've also got this... uh, charming statue in my inventory that let's be honest goes with ABSOLUTELY NO PART of my home decor. What to do about that? Ugh. Ah, I know.

"Dear Pompom,
My time with you leads me to believe you will...
enjoy this statue far more than I do." - Sqrl.

Then I stuff the statue in the envelope (wait how) and mail it off happily to my favorite cheerleading duck. I hope this sparks UTTER BAFFLEMENT, as that is my target. To use up the rest of my spare paper, I drop letters to Bertha ("I once promised you mail. Promise fulfilled.") and Curt ("You are my favorite of the bear group.") and post those off too. I reflect on the idea of sending Klaus a used tin can or something, but he'd probably actually enjoy it.

The Nooklings have an interesting bit of whatsit for sale this morning.

It's 3400 bells, but that seems like a steal for a rack with that much computing power. For all I know I could render myself a Toy Story sequel on this thing. I also grab some replacement paper and a new fortune cookie for the day.

That's not creepy at all.

I get my gift for this fortune, then take it home. ... It becomes very clear, very fast that I need to do some redecorating. Eventually I elect to sell or store some of the items I've found and rejiggle others around the room.

That's better. The Arwing there was the prize for the day, and good grief it's big. Then it's out on the town to water the flowers... er, actually in this weather probably not ... and dig up fossils and such. Adoravil's newest resident weighs in on the weather:

And Mallary takes my shaved-ice machine in exchange for a desk lamp, which I'm not sure I really need but can't really hurt either. Then it's off to the Able Sisters, who cheerfully fill me on Labelle's backstory. I know this because I'd already played the games, but Gracie (a big name fashion star) was Labelle's old ... mentor of sorts? Anyway, the "Labelle" brand is popular but not truly famous, and the Sisters want my help to make it really shine.

Which I totally will! ... Er, somehow? ... No help with that? No starting place? Okay.

Today's new fossils: a Dimetrodon torso and a mammoth torso. TORSOS. TORSOS EVERYWHERE. To my surprise, however, it turns out we've had a couple of complete fossils for a while now! It's just that I had problems finding them, because much like Marcus Brody I get lost in my own museum.

The Styracosaurus, for one...

Aaand the ichthyosaur.

Doesn't that just INSPIRE you? It does me. To do some fishing, naturally.

Also it turns out the reason I never ... well, one of the possible reasons I never see Phoebe around is that she sleeps in even longer than I do. Nearly 11 AM and she's still out like a bird-shaped nightlight. Speaking of unconscious birds, though! Check out what washed up on the beach.

After I've poked him with the net a few times and tried to water him, he snaps awake and introduces himself. Unfortunately, aside from name and job, he can't remember what ELSE he's up to. Probably he has ambrosia. Or amnesty. Something serious like that. (These are not my jokes, folks.) Eventually he asks me some trivia questions, trying to figure out where in the world he was going.

It's a country with lots of motorcycles. The most famous food? A noodle dish called 'pho'. It tastes pho-bulous. They also love coffee with lots and lots of condensed milk. Have I figured out where it is? Why yes I have, Gulliver. You're goin' to Vietnam. He beams happily at me and instantly strides off down the beach. ... Uh, Gulliver, I'm not sure you can get there on foot from... oh well whatever.

Finally, I bump into Bertha, who tells me with some melancholy about missing the taste of her mother's salad dressing. Every year during the rainy season, she'd get garden-fresh tomatos and they'd eat them with some dressing. Bertha seems down for a bit, then perks up. Maybe it's up to her to make the dressing now?

I guess I'm not the only one in a thoughtful, slightly morose mood today.