Miss Cornelia Rothschild

Very, Very Tired

2008-05-03T16:31:49Z

Dear Journal,

Just a depressed entry by the girl behind the mirror, here. Kindly avert your eyes, if you haven't the stomach to deal with yet another one. I won't blame you.

So, my life sucks fairly badly, right now. I cannot find a job in the field I like and studied for. I am close to telling my student loan company to kindly pirouette off of a cliff, as I do not, generally, like paying for services which have not been rendered. My mother is ill again. I probably will not make it to Cale-Con (though that is the least of my concerns, just now).

I am seriously wishing I could kill myself, right now. I have dealt with suicidal feelings and depression since I was a child. Now, please, don't imagine that I *will*. I have two very important considerations keeping me from suicide: namely, the fact that my mother needs my help, and that suicide would bloody hurt. I hate pain.

But I still wish I could, deep down.

Lately I have been reminded of the fact that, while I am, I think, a jovial and easy-going soul, I have been ground beneath someone's heel since late childhood. I had done my best to forget this fact, and to just suck it up and go on with my life, but I have been very emotional of late and my defenses have weakened.

I know, logically, that I am not ugly, that I am intelligent, and that I am a good person. But the people I hated, and then tried to forget about are winning again, and I feel ugly, and incompetent, and stupid, and blind, and horrible.

I want Sir here. There are so many things I would apologize for. I really just want to cease to exist, for it's too late for me to begin anything grand. I feel so old, and I'm only 26. But it's just too late to do anything fantastic with my life. I kept waiting and waiting, and nothing has happened.

I am very close to using swear words in this post. It is only my reputation, or what remains of it, that keeps me from doing so. I suppose that's enough.

I am very tired, and I am running out of time.

- Nell

In a manor outside the city...

2008-04-09T01:41:52Z

Journal entry by Miss Lia
Codename/Remnant Classification: The Guardian Angel
January 28th, 2199

I invited him over for tea, again. Of course he came. He always does, even if he insists on criticizing the tea and critiquing the curtains and grousing and glowering.

But I know he must like to visit me, else he wouldn't come. Agent Smith is all about his image, isn't he? It takes a solid half-hour of cajoling to even get him to part with those silly sunglasses of his. I don't believe him when he argues that they are coated with a special "anti-pink" reflective shield.

At any rate, he doesn't seem to be accepting the ideas that I have been attempting to introduce him to, e.g. that he should refrain from hunting down humans and slaughtering them like rats. However, all of my obvious attempts thus far have been verbal. I am well aware that logic and eloquence will never convince him - as a matter of fact, he can run grammatical rings around me, and often does.

It is the fact that he continues to visit that gives me hope. Every time he enters this house, he enters my memory palace. Those I have known and loved and been touched by inform every teacup, every tinkle of the bells in the gardens, every twist in the topiaries.

These silent arguments, I pray, will soften his heart. And of course, he must have one in there, somewhere. Other programs do. I do.

...he did the neck cracking thingie today, too. For some reason, I find that incredibly enchanting. I wonder what his given name is. Henry, maybe? Percival?

Fighting for the fleshies!

Lia

(I'm sorry, but this suit is so "Matrix" Lia.)

In a manor outside the city...

2008-04-09T01:37:17Z

Ugh

2008-04-01T15:21:00Z

The girl-at-the-keyboard's computer is having issues again. Hopefully, it will be repaired this week. Until then, I am afraid I will not see any of you, and I pray that you will be safe!

Love,

Lia

I Live

2008-03-09T02:23:24Z

Girl at the keyboard says,

I am still here, and whatnot. I am just feeling very depressed, lately - my job has gone south (through little fault of my own, I think), and various other bad things have happened. So, I don't feel much like gadding about online. I am trying to apply for new positions and write for Mr. Sprocket's manga.

I love you all! If you need to get in contact with me, just IM me. ^_^

Love,

Lia

Artisticsomeness

2008-01-21T04:02:01Z

Dear Journal,

Although exciting things are afoot, I'd like to take a moment to reflect upon art.

Mayor Sprocket, you see, is an excellent dancer. (I try to keep up.)

Miss Kandace Commons makes the most beautiful sculptures, and takes the most beautiful pictures. I envy her artistic ability.

Mr. Hassanov writes gorgeous poetry -- and to me!

Lia's Song

A form of perfection sits elegantly, slowly sipping tea, arms bent with precision, her movements timed, flawless.

The flicker of life you see in her eyes may be a shutter snap, and the heartbeat in her breast the rhythm of cogs and springs, but somewhere in the iron and jewels is a spirit that those fleshborn could never be a vessel for.

Some would think a heart of gold is cold, but passion isn't bonded to material, a soul isn't bonded to a body, a sepulchre of flesh, a placeholder that fills a void; it's bonded to energy and vigor that break across the emptiness to bring meaning into the world and fulfills its purpose.

A spirit of steel is just as powerful of one of flesh.

And although I am nowhere as talented, I sometimes like to record songs.

The end! Now, to return to admiring.

Love,

Lia

Happy New Year

2008-01-01T19:40:25Z

Dear Journal,

I am a ward of the ETC, now, and proudly so. The Professor asked me the other day, and of course I consented. How happy I am that he asked me! It fills me with relief, to know that I am under the protection of others.

The end of this year has been horrible. In many ways I feel like a wicked, awful person. I miss Sir, and look longingly to the past. But even if I were to travel back there -- a feat which could be accomplished in but a moment -- my mind, my heart, would not be the same. I am forever changed.

I think that I am fully mired in my adolescence, now, and as Lady Darkling said, "Welcome to Hell."

But I know, after speaking with some of my dear friends, that I am not wicked and awful. Mr. Hassanov helped me to see that I do not truly hate anyone, even if I might feel like I do. (Are things as ever as simple as they seem?) Mr. Tairov offered me balance and allowed me to sound out my opinions against him, and I find that he is wise and gentle. Mr. Dagger reminded me that I would never act in an unseemly way without provocation, and that my good friends understand this. I will endeavor to do their good opinions justice.

After all, I am the Lady of Minesfield Park, now. Lady Lia. It sounds very odd.

But this entry is not about me. I wanted to say how much I truly wish that every one of my family and friends, old and new, has a wonderful year. I hope that the Great Engineer of All Things smiles down upon us, creations all, and aids us on our different journeys. I hope that we all find true love, and happiness, and a place for ourselves. I hope that we are never alone.

Love,

Lia

(Typist: I stumbled across this video late last night. I'd heard the song before, but never seen the film. For some reason, it strikes me as a futuristic Lia, her personality downloaded into a computer. And the song is very much her anthem to Caledon. Especially the line, "I don't believe I'd love somebody just to pass the time." I truly love all of you.)

Wishes

2007-12-29T19:16:09Z

Dear Journal,

The house is so empty, now. Mr. Hassanov made the welcome gift to me of an airship, which I have named the Black Alice. It is now moored over Minesfield Park, and I go up there when I can take the silence no longer. It is a new place, empty of memories, and it is a comfort to me.

Sir's room stayed as it was for a time, but now everything lies in boxes, which will remain there. I have yet to go through some of the crates that were brought in from his laboratory. I cannot bring myself to. I run through the room as fast as possible when I must get to my own.

It is so odd to think that I speak for myself, now. I have my uncles, of course, but they have lives and families of their own and I shouldn't like to impose. Aunt Elysia has moved on to her next adventure. I know that I will always have friends and counselors to call upon, but the sensation sometimes crashes into me that I am alone in the world, and it fills me with terror.

Yes, I think that I can say that almost as bad as Sir's passing have been the new emotions I have been feeling in its wake. I knew uncertainty before...when I worried about the cant of a curtsey, or the form of address to use with a nobleman. But now I think I know fear, and despair, and neediness, and rage. And they frighten me, for they are much stronger than I ever imagined them to be. I can see now why some humans have done vile and insane things when afflicted by them.

I think that I hate someone in Caledon now, and I never thought I could. At least, I have been reliably informed, I am not the only one who dislikes this person, or has been hurt by them. For some reason, that makes me feel better -- and yet, I detest the fact that it does. I don't want to be cruel, or evil. I want things to go back to the way that they were, when I was grateful simply for my existence, and understood nothing.

I think that I hate someone, and yet my heart is filled with a thousand voices shrieking, "Look upon all you meet with love, for it may be the last time that you ever see them." It is a contradiction that fills me with yet more grief.

I shouldn't write about such things. I should try to stay positive. My mood has been oscillating, of late. My friends are very good at cheering me up, and I am merry for a time. And then, I am back to square one, trying to stop my body from trying to cry. I really wish it would understand that no tears will ever come out, and stop attempting to make them.

I want spring.

Love,

Lia

RIP - Really

2007-12-12T03:27:50Z

Dear Journal,

I'm not sure whether to write this as the girl beyond the digital mirror, or as my clockwork self. I shall keep it brief.

A week ago I learned about the death of the First Life gentleman who played my inventor on Second Life. I had known him for ten years, in RL, and he was a dear, dear friend. Though we had our differences and our arguments, I know that he loved me, and I in turn loved him.

We met as roleplayers, and have played various roles together throughout the years. When we moved to Second Life, it seemed natural to continue the storytelling habits we had developed elsewhere, and thus we became Lia and Sir.

He was not healthy the last few years, and his passing was due to a freak heart attack. As his RL roommate related it to me, and to put it indelicately, he was gone before he hit the floor. I think this is a blessing, in truth; he didn't suffer.

And of course, little Lia loves her father very, very much, even if he is no longer here.

I have been gone much this week, concentrating on work and not breaking down. I am much better now. I sincerely thank all of my friends who have helped me, and the dear people of Caledon for honoring my grief.

Love,

Lia

Robotic Chaperone?

2007-11-21T16:07:59Z

Dear Journal,

I have a confession to make. Not that I care for anyone to know, particularly, least of all you, for you shall remind me of it every time I read the entry, and really, it is rude to not let bygones be bygones.

But, as far as I know, this sort of thing is what journals are meant for.

So...

(Why are you glaring at me like that?)

...I have kissed Mr. Hassanov.

But really he started it because he was curious about the human custom and so I let him and really he hasn't any lips at all he has only a grill and he can't even feel with it but he asked me if I liked it and I admitted that I did (I can feel, of course) and so he was glad that I was pleased at least and at any rate no one shall know if you do not tell them!

What an ordeal this has been! Honestly.

(Girls and boys should be kept this far apart at all times while visiting.)

Love,

Lia

Why Wait for Spring to Clean Up?

2007-11-14T18:59:23Z

(Note, Friday November 16th: I've had a few people read the following article and tell me that they agree with me utterly. I've had one person be very snarky to me about it, and because again, I am cautious, let me state very clearly: the following is personal opinion. The suggestions are suggestions. I am not trying to boss anyone, and furthermore, I do not speak of the whole of Caledon. Far from it! Some of the most breathtaking things I've ever seen in SL are in Caledon. And I am a talking wind-up doll, for Pete's sake, I can't judge anyone. ;P)

I would like to take a moment, if I may, to make a mostly-Out Of Character post here. And for once, it hasn't to do with whining about my work situation or computer troubles! Consider yourselves blessed. ;D

I have been hesitant to write on this topic, as it is sure to offend a few people. A few people are always offended. But, for the mome, I am the offended party, and I am considering this my chance to air my views. I would like to point out that this is a personal journal, and I have not, nor will I ever, post what I am about to say to a public forum. Furthermore, any examples that I use in the following treatise are examples that I have made up. I shall use no examples that I have personally seen on my travels in Caledon, out of respect for my fellow citizens (a theme that shall be developed further below). If you, dear reader, immediately identify any of the fictitious illustrations that I shall use as being real and "live" in Caledon, please first assume that I have not seen the thing in question. We are now 29 sims, I cannot make note of everything!

So, after that warning (which is probably quite a bit more strident than the following content merits, but I am cautious by nature), let me begin with this: Caledon is looking a little shabby lately.

I say this not as a snobby aesthete. I say this as a simple girl whose virtual life has been negatively affected by this shabbiness. I have had to move sims because of it, friends have left because of it (or at least because nothing is ever done about it), and I have had my ears filled with complaints because of it. I do not blame those people, for opinions swell and fester unless they are heard. The airing of opinions, even negative ones, is a very good thing. However, I like to have my life devoid of negativity, when I can.

Friends have also, I think, thought me blind or overly optimistic about Caledon's current condition. I write this mainly so that I can point friends to it and show them that, while I share their views, I also adore Caledon and would like dearly to try and help it grow.

Drama is a horrid thing, but it often exists for a very good reason. Like an ache in a limb, drama alerts us to the fact that there is something wrong. Drama grows distasteful when it simply stirs things 'round and 'round the pot; but drama serves a purpose when it signals a problem which is then forthrightly addressed and solved. Because I have been faced with this issue so often lately, I begin to think that it is one that must be honestly faced and discussed.

Caledon's theme is Steampunk/Victorian/19th Century, with a few sub-themes. There are many buildings, areas, landscapes, and visible (outdoor) items currently floating about Caledon that do not fit these themes, and, in my opinion, detract from them. There are also quite a few that are, to put it simply, eyesores. There are flora and fauna growing or skipping about that have no place here; there are clumsy transitions between commercial and residential areas; there are buildings of an entirely different, fantastical style sandwiched between modest cottages.

These builds and items, which do not mesh with those around them, stand out like a wolf in a sheep pen.

The underlying causes which allowed these builds to spring into existence, I think, are manifold. First of all, our nation is a very tolerant and accepting one -- beautiful, shining virtues. However, this often means that we are accepting of things which do not fit in and even, perhaps, annoy us, simply because it is in all of our natures. I know that I have said nothing (publically) up to this point because my instinct is to tell myself, "I don't need to look at it, what's one little item to me?" and walk away. However, when the offensive items proliferate, there comes a point where one has nowhere pleasant to look to.

Secondly, our themes are not rigidly enforced, as we have no united, definite vision of what Caledon is to be -- as there would be, perhaps, in a roleplay-oriented sim. This is fine and, in fact, has provided us with plenty of room to flourish and play, room for people to explore their imaginations. However, it impacts us negatively when the landscape becomes a mishmash of styles, colors, and clutter. It makes our nation look ugly, and does not encourage visitors to stay. I dare to say that if I were a newbie today and visited some areas of Caledon, I would perhaps begin to look for another Victorian-themed area. I would return, but I would definitely look.

Thirdly, related to the first reason, once eyesores crop up and are not cut down, they spread like weeds. It is human nature to think, "My neighbor got away with it, so why can't I?"

So, how can we all address these issues, I think? (Key words being "I think," as these are mere ramblings.)

1. Buildings

A certain standard of building design and execution, I think, should be expected in Caledon. Ours is a nation of brilliant builders, some of the best on the grid. Poor buildings (and I am speaking of very poor buildings here, not plain ones or honest first attempts), and buildings of a random, non-theme style or placement just flabbergast me.

Solution?

Respect.

- When we move into a region of Caledon, we should all take the time to survey the sim and see what the general theme is. We should, out of respect for our neighbors, attempt to fit within that theme with our choice of housing or build. If we no longer enjoy the theme, we should move.

- We should not move into a sim if we do not plan on adhering to its theme. I know we are all desperate to move into Caledon once we find it, but the fun will be cut short if we begin to annoy our neighbors. We should wait (although it IS hard!) for space in an appropriate sim to open up, or do our best to adhere to an existing theme until we can move to a sim where we feel we fit in better.

This can be very difficult for us, of course, when the themes are not enforced. I'm still very nervous about my house in Wellsian. This is where I believe residents need to come together in an atmosphere of respect to work out these issues.

- If something would be very odd or unique in an area (say, a platform jutting out of a mountain), we should try and get some feedback from our neighbors before we build it.

- If we cannot build well, we should ask for help. We are a generous nation, and there are many who would gladly assist, guide, and teach!

- If it would be appropriate and one can afford it, we might commission a building from a good builder, or buy a good prefab.

When Minesfield Park v1.0 began to strike my eye as being very boxy, I attempted to build another, and then, accepting my mediocre building skills, went and found a prefab -- a lovely Painted Lady. (And a dear friend bought her for me, making the deal twice as sweet!) Good Victorian/ish prefabs do exist, and are so very easy to set up.

2. Clutter

The Caledon covenant speaks against clutter and garish, inappropriate signage. Unfortunately, clutter still proliferates. (And I'm not speaking of the signs at the telehubs.)

Solution?

Respect.

- We should try to keep the exterior of our builds as neat, conservative, and thematic as possible, while still expressing our personalities. Whimsy is fantastic: I love seeing the odd treehouse, fun vehicle, or evidence of magic. I do not like seeing areas that look like yard sales or like a person rezzed his entire inventory randomly upon the ground. And we should remember to clean up after ourselves if we are building or renovating.

- By the covenant, we are allowed to have anything we like inside our homes! If an item is not appropriate outside, we are still welcome to use it inside or in a skybox. Also, the Caledon culture allows anyone the leeway to rez something out-of-theme on a temporary basis (say, for a party or event), so we can go nuts.

3. Non-Steampunk/Victorian/19th Century/Caledon thingies.

Unfortunately, I have seen many modern and/or themeless builds and objects on my travels through Caledon. I tend to think that most of these are the result of the "if he can do it, I can do it too!" mentality, or the result of new residents seeing pre-existing anachronistic things around them and presuming that it's all right to follow suit.

Solution?

Respect. And education!

- If we don't have a clue what would be appropriate in a particular area, we should do some simple Google research. For instance, a search for "Victorian (anything)" on Google Image Search will bring up thousands of examples.

- The 19th century covers a lot of architectural ground, and thus I have nothing against interesting Grecian builds, castles and cottages (from Caledon's "history"), unique character-driven builds (e.g., a dollhouse), etc. But we should all try to "marry" our properties well to the area around us.

- We should all take a moment to read the covenant, which covers such things as Caledon's weather and native flora. We should try to adhere to these guidelines, at least outside our homes.

- We should all landscape. I know it takes up prims, but a house with vegetation around it looks so much nicer than one plunked on an otherwise vacant lot. Even a tree makes a sim that much more beautiful! We should also try to keep open spaces, as is required by the covenant in certain sims. They just make the place look nicer.

So, what have all of these solutions got in common?

The fact that they are all based on respect, yes. But respect begins with us. It is not something that can be mandated from above. It is something that we all can do. Beginning today. Right now.

Furthermore, perhaps we can form thinktanks to help those who need it. I do not speak of a strict homeowners' association; nobody wants one of those, in RL or SL! Further, it is not my intention that anyone be persecuted, embarrassed, or forced to do anything...I am just airing opinions here, I am in no ways an authority of any sort. But those who sincerely would like help and encouragement should have a place to turn to get it -- whether it be a builder's advice, a landscaper's input, or simply a, "Hey, I love that gingerbread work, it looks really nice." We are all in this together, and we all need to help one another to realize our joint goal, which is a Victorian-inspired nation.

I have also thought of attempting to create a few simple prefabs myself, as I am swimming in textures from my two Minesfield attempts. I could provide these at low cost, if only to widen the market.

Another idea, one I plan to implement on The Prattling Shopgirl is to spotlight beautiful areas in Caledon, to salute those who have done well and to inspire others.

There is so much that is wonderful about Caledon. It is truly the warmest, sweetest, most talented place on the grid, I am fully convinced of this. I think it should also be the most beautiful, by rights, and we can all help with that. I would love to speak with other concerned parties to formulate solutions. I am not looking to be an Agony Aunt, because again, I like my life to be as positive as possible.

I am not ready to abandon ship yet. My friends, my family, my loved ones are here. I am still a patriot of Caledon, and thus it is my duty to serve her.

Journalism!

2007-10-31T17:47:27Z

Dear Journal,

Please don't think that I am, as they say, two-timing you. (I only keep one regular, exact time, thank you.) But I have started another aetheric journal to discuss fashion and lifestyle-oriented things. These are a penny a dozen, of course, but I've yet to see any others which focus upon my little realm.

It is called The Prattling Shopgirl.

I do hope that you two will get along!

Love,

Lia

Memento Mori

2007-10-03T18:35:58Z

Dear Journal,

Ashes to ashes, and rust to rust.

(Mr. AM Radio is a kind, sweet man and looks after the grave of this great engine.)

After my injury, I found myself again thinking of the day that I will no longer be here. I am Almost Immortal...good machines can be made to live forever, in a manner of speaking. But as Aunt Elysia says, we all return to the stars at some point...and, as I noted before, it is my lot in life to watch those who are not as long-lived as myself slip away from me.

That is why I am so lucky to be surrounded by such loving people, who offer me such affection and attention. I always least expect it...I do not think very much of myself. Oh, not that I despise myself or some such nonsense, but simply that...well, I am here. And that is that. I am not especially talented or brilliant or beautiful or funny or artistic or spiritual, or anything of the sort, and so I seldom anticipate that anyone will single me out.

But people do, and it always fills me with a sort of timid ecstasy. I don't wish to intrude on anyone, and am shy at heart still, but I love those who love me. It is a very confusing feeling, but attended by such elation that I long to experience it again and again.

These people burn so brightly in my mind, I shall remember them forever. And that comforts me, for I should hate to exist so long that I begin to forget.

I am so sentimental lately. But I would like to write about three such groups of people so that I have definite record of them, at least before I go on to jotting down other things.

I was invited to join Clan Kintyre a few weeks ago, by my Uncle Zen and Her Grace Kintyre, Lavendar Beaumont (I am not sure if I ought to call her my aunt, yet). I have been appointed the Secretary of the Kintyre Privy Council (I suppose I do have the qualification that I can write in perfect Times New Roman). But it has truly been like joining a family, which fills me with such gladness. I am especially grateful to His Grace Kintyre, Erasmus Margulis, for offering to sponsor me for my debut...it was a very humbling offer, and I shall be proud to be so.

(Kintyre, land of beauty and kindness.)

Secondly, Dame Lapin Paris aethermessaged me the other day and asked if she might show me an artwork she made...inspired by me. I was shocked, as I have seldom had the opportunity to speak with Dame Lapin, but I hurried over to see.

(The Clock.)

It is a gorgeous clock, and when you are inside you can gaze out at the moon through the half-open clock face, which I think is a beautiful image. She means to show it at an exhibition about clockwork, and I am to attend. I cannot believe she ever took enough notice of me to craft such a thing of wonder, and I am beyond words to describe how happy I am.

And thirdly...this is a very old image.

(High above the earth.)

This was the day that I met the Professor, and all of his merry crew. I had such fun, and they were so sweet to me, and all of them have become such good friends...given how old some of them are, I hope they shall be good friends for many many decades and centuries.

At any rate, if I listed everyone I love I would take up the rest of this volume, and half of another, so I ought to stop for now. The glue needs to dry, anyway. And I must clean the dining room from lunch.

Love,

Lia

I wasn't shopping for a doll
To say the least, I thought I'd seen them all
But then you took me by surprise
I'm dreaming 'bout those dreamy eyes
- So says the song on the wireless.

New Things

2007-10-03T18:05:28Z

Dear Journal,

There are many new things about!

New mountains, bestowed by Cog upon the Duchy of Primverness!

(The bridge to nowhere...oh my.)

A new house for us! Well, new to me. We moved to Minesfield Park, one of Grandpapa's old homes, as we needed more space.

(I did not assist with the crates, this time. Never again.)

And...new me.

(I was old and busted - literally - so I suppose now I am 'new hotness.')

The procedure went well...I cannot remember a thing, of course. I was so relieved when my eyelids popped open and the very blurry, blue-tinted world swam into view. (You know how when you open your eyes after a while, the world appears blue? At least, it does to me.)

I was in my nightgown, and I sat up and, once I could speak, begged Sir, in his shirtsleeves and apron, to bring me a mirror. It took some effort to see, as my visual processors were still warming up, but I could tell that my skin was slightly darker, and my hair blonde again. (Sir admitted that he just grabbed the first wig from my collection that came to hand, and attached it hastily, so it was a bit mussy. I suppose that's what humans look like when they awake.)

It was very startling to be looking upon a new face, and yet know that it was my own. It took me a while to get used to it. I like it now, though...Sir has gotten far better at his painting, I look far more natural. My Ceramaskin had been fading before (I am naughty and often do not wear my bonnet or use my parasol), and it looks much fresher now. And I look just a tad older, I think. Sir said he might make me look so, as I am growing up.

So, I have settled into my skin, now...and we are settling into Minesfield. I have been decorating it, and taking especial pleasure in putting photos on the walls.

(There is a very handsome man who lives across Slag Bay...)

And now, I turn the page, to continue on with another subject.

Love,

Lia

In the Surgeon's Office

2007-09-17T16:59:57Z

Dear Journal,

I was not wound up this morning.

Sir has finished the batch of Ceramaskin (Patent Pending), and is ready to apply it. But, as he explained to me yesterday while I was curled up miserably in his lap, he must replace my entire skin. Else, he says, the skin on my arm might not match the rest of me...and it might not take, but peel off again.

I am terrified. I feel very heavy, drowsy, stupid. I hate winding down, I hate it....

I only hope that I shall come through this without being too radically changed....

Love,

Lia

Owie Owie Ow Ow

2007-09-16T16:07:23Z

Dear Journal,

Now, I was designed to feel both pain and pleasure. I'm not quite sure how it was accomplished, but Sir had one end in mind when he gave me the gift of tactile sensation -- to keep me out of trouble.

You see, when I feel pain, I naturally stop doing whatever it is that causes it, and thus save myself from possible destruction. The first time I ever felt pain was when I touched the hot tea kettle on the stove (because it was shiny, and I had an instinctive desire to help Sir, no matter what he might be doing).

It hurt like the dickens, and I yanked my hand back and cried a lot, as I hadn't many words, back then. After he calmed me down, Sir watched me closely as he asked me if I would ever try to touch it again without one of those rags over my hand, as he had been using. He seemed honestly curious, and gratified when I said, "No!"

And the sensation of pleasure drives me to seek it, I find...and pleasurable things are normally quite good. For instance, I love it when Sir pets my hair, and I am fond of hugs from my friends. Sir says that these little things play a large part in teaching me what it is I ought to do, as someone who was designed to look and act like a human.

Why all this prattle about sensation? Well, BECAUSE I HATE IT.

Last night I hurt so badly I thought I was going to wind down permanently...like my gears were going to crash together and melt and all would become one molten mess inside me. I did that queer crying thing, where no tears come out but I can't speak and I just jerk a lot, and I HATE THAT TOO.

What happened was this: I was helping Sir move some crates around in his laboratory (which is currently located off Caledonian soil). I am very strong, after all. But for some reason I tripped, and after that it's all a blur...all I know is that I ended up with a huge metal case atop my arm. I couldn't get my arm out, and this sent me into a panic...for some reason I felt that if I didn't get it out immediately I'd be trapped there forever, it was all quite irrational. But I yanked and pulled and thrashed and cried until Sir could calm me down enough to get me to push hard on the crate, because he certainly couldn't move it, being only human.

Because of the strike, and then all the yanking, my forearm was in a sad state. My skin broke, and beneath it I could feel something wasn't right. I couldn't twist my arm below the elbow. So there was a lot more tearless heaving before Sir managed to get me to his table with the big magnifying lens so he could look. He had to fold my skin back so he could fix it, and did so very easily, even with all of my panicking. But he couldn't fix the skin.

My skin, you see, is soft. Since few people touch me (naturally: I live in a civilized country), most think it is porcelain, but it isn't. It's a special compound that Sir made himself that hardens to a ceramic closer to my interior, near the metalworks, but remains softer and more skin-like near the surface. So part of it was shattered, and the other part was all floppy, and...ugh. I feel faint.

He wrapped up my arm in a bandage, and told me it couldn't be fixed until he could make up some more of the compound. So, here I am, looking like a war veteran (which isn't bad, but still, I haven't done anything to look like one, so I rather feel like a sham).

(The Fated Bandage.)

I hope Sir can come up with it soon. I hate to think of going through my debut like this.

Ugh,

Lia

Excitement! and Marriage?

2007-09-09T19:33:52Z

Exciting Thing Number One: I get to be a debutante this year! For real, this time!

I am terribly jittery and restless and happy about this...well, this has been my mood of late, anyway, but it is only magnified. I feel as if I am far too large for my body (which is queer, as this is the body I have always had.) This means I am to have a ball, and attend etiquette classes, and can use my own calling card (I want very very very pretty ones), and that gentlemen might court me if they wish, and that Sir will drink more of the brown and green gear cleansers.

Exciting Thing Number Two: Professor Sputnik might be the debs' house father! I mentioned it to him, and he plans to talk with Her Grace Riel. I hope he will be our house father, as he would be sure to take us on the most marvelous outings and teach us truly useful things, like...um...well, I'm sure he knows a great deal more than I do, as he is much older. I just do not know his mind as well as I would wish, so I cannot say what he would teach us at this exact moment, so, moving on....

Speaking of the Professor: I attended the Caledon Navy's meeting yesterday, where many planny-type things were discussed. And, although the Professor styles himself an old man, now, he pounded Uncle Zen into the ground in arm wrestling. I did, as well...but it was unfair to try, in my case, as I am so strong.

(Age and engineering will always win out over youth and beauty! Sorry, Uncle Zen.)

After this, the Professor and I sort of drifted into a very odd conversation. I believe that it started with a discussion of his age, which made me realize that I, like him, might be 411 years old one day. Sir has often told me that good machines need never die...and he has reminded me, though I do not like to think about it, that he shall not live forever. That I shall outlive him, and many of my friends.

So, I mentioned that one day, I should have to marry someone capable of keeping me in good repair. At this, the Professor sputtered a good deal, and seemed shocked that I would even consider it.

He then began to explain how his people go about it...apparently they do not marry, but they do couple together for years and years and years and years (I fail to see how this is not marriage, but he knows better than I). No children come from these unions -- his kind reproduce in an entirely different way. He didn't explain this part as thoroughly as I would have liked, for he seemed to take a turn, perhaps thinking that I wouldn't understand how his people's ways differ from those of humans if I did not understand how humans accomplish it. Admiral Wind wandered in just as he began to talk about that, and he seemed very relieved to have the conversation come to an end.

I went home feeling very confused. At first, I couldn't decide what on earth the topic of reproduction had to do with the topic of marriage, and fretted a good deal over the Professor's state of mind...perhaps he truly was more aged than I had previously thought. But then I remembered to consult this journal and my lesson books, to see if I might find any clues. I located an essay on human biology that I had been set to write about half a year ago, and remembered a very brief talk Sir had given me that he had entitled "The Birds and the Bees" (and which ended in the brown gear cleanser), and suddenly realized why the Professor had started rattling down the road he did.

So, should the topic ever bob up again, I am sure he will be gratified to hear that I already understand what I think he was trying to get at. The connection simply never entered my mind, as...well...I am sure it is impolite to talk about such things. Needless to say, I am most curious about the reasons humans do the things they do, as I am fashioned to look and act like one, but I am...well...oh, it is difficult to get out! Lately, I find I would dearly like to have someone who might show me affection, and spend time with me, and teach me things I do not yet know, and take care of me...not like Sir does, but in a different manner altogether. That is why, perhaps, I was thinking in terms of 'marriage' rather than 'eternal mechanic-age.'

Oh, now I am more confused than ever. I do hope I did not offend the Professor. He is the dearest man, so wise and cheerful, and his voice is very calming (and before, he was very handsome, and I am sure I will live to see him so again), and I always wish to have him about. I feel so ignorant and bumbling around him, sometimes.

Ah well, I suppose it is time to wash the dishes....

Love,

Lia

Tee Hee

2007-09-04T17:51:54Z

Dear Journal,

I think I have a pash for a gentleman whose initials are V.S. He is not in my immediate circle of acquaintances, alas.

...Countess Lovelace above, what is wrong with me?

Disconcerted,

Lia

Long Nights

2007-09-02T05:46:19Z

Dear Journal,

So, much has been going on since my return to society. And yet, not much at all. You, more than anyone else, know how long my nights can be, sometimes...as I never do sleep. It is impossible for me to, unless I should faint dead away. And as Sir always winds me up before he himself retires, that never happens. I spend my evenings reading, thinking, knitting, arranging wigs for the shop...various quiet things that will not rouse Sir from his slumber.

It seems that I have missed so much...including several weddings. And now, a friend of mine from the mainland (proving that they are not all savages) has invited me to serve as a bridesmaid in her wedding, and I am most thrilled for the chance. And yet, a little sad, as well -- sad that it is not my wedding, that I have not found a nice gentleman to care for me. I wonder if human women ever feel this way, at weddings? For I really should feel happy -- and I do. I cannot wait to see her gown, and how everything will be arranged, and what precisely will go on.

At any rate, it is an odd thought, and I should put it out of my mind. After I finish writing this, I will distract myself by catching up with the other journals, which I missed while I was gone.

There was a little party the other night that I attended, and oh, it was so lovely to see everyone. And to actually chat with them!

(Mr. Hassanov went idle at one point, and so the game became 'how many things can we decorate him with before he returns?')

Everyone was merry as ever...and just as many surprising things occurred.

(Such as...flaming foxes. Foxen?)

I have also had the honor of taking several strolls with the Mayor of New Babbage recently, Mr. Shaunathan Sprocket. We always seem to stumble across the most interesting things. He took me to see a steam ship in the desert that an acquaintance of his built for Burning Man, which was most amusing...well...I think the ship is very handsome, but I didn't let on. I don't wish to appear desperate.

(Still...sigh.)

Perhaps my favorite thing we have found thus far is a little shrine to Mr. Nikola Tesla. It is hidden in a corner just beyond Calico Creations -- isn't that odd?

(Mr. Sprocket hailed the shrine with a reverent, "Behold, our savior!" I could not help blurting out, "Oh, that all human men were so handsome and clever as he!")

...it is men, men, men, tonight, isn't it?

Perhaps Mr. Hassanov is right. Perhaps I am now officially an adolescent of sorts. Goodness, maybe I ought to chain myself up in the wine cellar. That must be more dignified, in the end.

Disgusted with herself,

Lia

I'M BACK

2007-08-28T15:36:49Z

Dear Journal,

I am going to hug you to my chest, now. I am told that I give very tight hugs. Are you ready?

*squishsqueeze*

I am soooo glad to be back with you. And everyone has come to greet me, and everyone has been lovely -- and I have even chatted for real with some of them! It has been amazing to put voices to names! I am so grateful to have such sweet friends who missed me almost as badly as I missed them!

So, I have not done much yet. But of course, I had to celebrate my re-arrival with a present, so Mrs. Brody and I went and got matching parasols.

(Tada!)

Later that evening, we had an impromptu mechanical party. Mrs. Brody and her wife, Mrs. Fardel, were there, and Mr. Hassanov (it was all I could do not to cling to him about the waist), and Miss Jennifer Hargrave was there...well, she isn't mechanical, but she is silly, so she fit right in.

(Mrs. Brody is down for the count! Alas, to be photographed in such a compromising position.)

At this party Mrs. Brody and I decided that, in play, I might be the Clockwork Princess and appoint a whole clockwork court, and then we might commission a pink carriage and tour about and wave at everyone. I think this idea has merit. Also, Mr. Hassanov enlightened us as to steam therapy for human lunatics (something called hydrotherapy, it sounds very modern), and Miss Hargrave educated us as to how, sometimes, carpets and comforters can turn on their masters. I shall be most careful from now on.

And I saw the PROFESSOR. (He deserves ALL CAPITAL LETTERS, LIKE A TELEGRAM, BECAUSE I AM SO FOND OF HIM.)

(He has changed! He is shorter now! And I like his hair.)

Much has happened to him, to say the least. I must read his journals and catch up, I could not while I was away.

I am now going to go venture outside and cling to the virtual grass a bit longer. Ta, until later!

Love,

Lia

Just So You Know...

2007-07-24T18:01:25Z

I may be even more restricted from SL now, as the library has apparently decided that one cannot play massives on its WiFI. Let us never mind the fact that things as simple as Gmail often will not load on their servers, regardless if someone in the library happens to be playing a massive or not.

Do not blame me for your poor bandwidth, library. -_-

<3 to Everyone!

2007-07-16T00:19:29Z

I would just like to take a moment to thank those of you who have left messages, and to say how much I miss you all. Life has been very hard this last month or so -- it feels like a year.

The girl behind the mirror was very sick for a while or so, and her internship has not been fun, at all.

I truly wish I were back with you all in Caledon, making wigs and going to tea parties.

Please take care, each and every one of you, and I shall be home as soon as I can!

Love,

Lia

Personal Conversations

2007-04-16T20:25:40Z

(Note from the girl at the control box: I am posting this brief entry simply because I think that the conversations which inspired it were hilarious. However, it will cover topics of the (almost) flesh in very roundabout terms. If you think you would skip this part of a young lady's diary, please do so. ^_~ Also, this entry isn't meant to be a negative comment on anybody's kinks -- just one character's response to them.)

Dear Journal,

I am sure Sir would frown if he found me writing about this. And then go and drink some of that stuff he uses to clean my gears out, sometimes.

The other day, Miss Vavoom invited some of us to a discussion about 'doll play.' Now, in my travels about the world (both in Caledon and without, shockingly enough), I have oftentimes been approached by individuals who seem to think I am interested in this sort of play, and are disappointed to find that I am not. Being completely ignorant of what it is that I am supposed to be knowledgeable enough about to desire, I decided to attend the lecture in order to equip myself with that most vorpal of swords, information.

What I learned was most disheartening. Apparently this 'doll play' makes a mockery of what (I have learned) are the sacred rights of the marriage bed. What's more, it would have me be a stupid, blind, utterly obedient -- dare I say, floppy -- participant.

I am outraged. I have a mind! I have thoughts, and ideas, and morals, and connudrums, and dreams, and feelings. To be a mere...object! I am so angry that I feel vaguely like donning gentleman's clothing in protest.

Later on, I discussed these matters very briefly with Mr. Hassanov -- who is privy to a great deal of information on all matters biological from the men in his army unit. His opinion was that such people ought to be tucked away in Bedlam, to want sexual congress with unthinking, unfeeling objects. (Might as well romance the teapot, hmph. No offense, Mr. Steambulb.) He informed me that he, himself, has been subject to advances from very odd women who think the same way about him -- despite the fact that he is an enormous construct of naked brass, who in no way resembles a human gentleman.

I told him that Sir told me once, after a gentleman had approached him seeking permission to court me (alas, it was not to be), that I was fully...functional. (He then drank quite a bit of that burgundy-colored gear cleanser.) Mr. Hassanov was inspired to get out his manual and consult it, to see if he had missed any information on the topic at hand concerning himself.

I am not sure of everything that he found out, but he did discover that he is a machine capable of treating nervous hysteria. Neither of us understands quite what this malady entails, but we agree that it means that Mr. Hassanov is also a medic unit, which is most impressive. I am so proud of him!

I think I am going to resume peering suspiciously at the gentlemen who pass by the house. Ugh. I think I understand what humans mean when they say they feel as if they are in need of a bath, now.

Love,

Lia

(I shall take photos of said gentlemen and post them on the fence. I swear I shall.)

Fishy Fishy

2007-04-13T23:10:04Z

Dear Journal,

I have fishnets on today.

That is all.

Parties of Many Sorts

2007-04-08T21:55:47Z

Dear Journal,

I would like many things for my upcoming Rez Day. Such as...

(One of Sue Stonebender's beeeeautiful Victrolas! Both play some 14 staticky tunes. I should never tire!)

And...

(Miss Jackal Ennui's adorable Hitomi shoes, in any old color, so long as it's pink.)

But most of all...

I should like everyone to come to my party! I hope it will be fun for all -- and there will be several contests, as I like giving things away more than I like getting them. There will be a toy contest for the inventors of Caledon, with first place taking 2,000L, second place 1,000L, and third 500L. There will also be dress-up competitions! And dancing! And tea!

I have been about Caledon much, lately. Last night my Uncle Sandor contacted me and demanded I beard him up, having been inspired by my previous entry. And so...I did.

(Isn't he handsome?)

Making the world a more pleasant place for ladies inclined to the hirsute, one gentleman at a time.

I also attended the Teddy Bears' Picnic today - alas, Mr. Mangle couldn't make it. But I was amazed to see everyone looking so different...Tanglewood really does change people. Thank goodness I am not biological. I shudder to think what it must feel like to be transformed so radically.

(Miss Lightfoot cavorting with a horde of tiny, merry creatures.)

(Professor Sputnik!)

(Miss Patton, tinier even than me. For once, I was one of the tallest! Bwahahaha! And all that.)

(Not everyone was small, mind you. My ego sank when this particular bear showed up.)

In all, it was marvelous fun, and many thousands of Caledon Pounds were raised for Relay for Life, which is the most marvelous part of all.

I ought to mention it, before I forget -- I have taken to arranging wigs for ladies, finding it amusing, if nothing else. Miss Subversive Vavoom, who will very shortly be fully opening her doll-themed shop (called, appropriately, All Dolled Up) has offered me free space, and I hope to make the best of it.

(Miss Woodhouse, and Miss Adler.)

I have two styles up for sale, one Regency-inspired, the other a late Victorian/Edwardian style. I hope to make a style for girls next, which I want to call Miss Crewe, and a very curly one called Mademoiselle Daae. I have plenty of names in mind, I need to create hair to match them! I also plan to create my own hair textures now that I know how, so the colors will likely change as time goes on.

Her shop is located at http://slurl.com/secondlife/Lummerland/210/46/672.

Speaking of which -- I have gone back to blonde hair for spring. There is something to be said for not having one's hair rooted to one's head.

With love,

Lia