UnCONventional

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My father's family name being Pirrip, and my Christian name Philip, my infant tongue could make of both names nothing longer or more explicit than Pip. So, I called myself Pip, and came to be called Pip. I give Pirrip as my father's family name, on the authority of his tombstone and my sister,—Mrs. Joe Gargery, who married the blacksmith. As I never saw my father or my mother, and never saw any likeness of either of them (for their days were long before the days of photographs), my first fancies regarding what they were like were unreasonably derived from their tombstones. The shape of the letters on my father's, gave me an odd idea that he was a square, stout, dark man, with curly black hair. From the character and turn of the inscription, ''Also Georgiana Wife of the Above,'' I drew a childish conclusion that my mother was freckled and sickly. To five little stone lozenges, each about a foot and a half long, which were arranged in a neat row beside their grave, and were sacred to the memory of five little brothers of mine,—who gave up trying to get a living, exceedingly early in that universal struggle,—I am indebted for a belief I religiously entertained that they had all been born on their backs with their hands in their trousers-pockets, and had never taken them out in this state of existence. Ours was the marsh country, down by the river, within, as the river wound, twenty miles of the sea. My first most vivid and broad impression of the identity of things seems to me to have been gained on a memorable raw afternoon towards evening. At such a time I found out for certain that this bleak place overgrown with nettles was the churchyard; and that Philip Pirrip, late of this parish, and also Georgiana wife of the above, were dead and buried; and that Alexander, Bartholomew, Abraham, Tobias, and Roger, infant children of the aforesaid, were also dead and buried; and that the dark flat wilderness beyond the churchyard, intersected with dikes and mounds and gates, with scattered cattle feeding on it, was the marshes; and that the low leaden line beyond was the river; and that the distant savage lair from which the wind was rushing was the sea; and that the small bundle of shivers growing afraid of it all and beginning to cry, was Pip.

Ahem.

March 24th, 2016 | by Trae Dorn

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└ Tags: jim, ruth, sarah p

Discussion (13) ¬

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calvsie

March 24, 2016 at 12:24 am | # | Reply

wait… why is the alt text… ohhhhh… wait what?
Blitzkrieg1701

March 24, 2016 at 12:52 am | # | Reply

I didn’t even know they made Charles Dickens video games
- Sleeps Furiously
  
  March 24, 2016 at 10:16 am | # | Reply
  
  But what I do know now is that they should.
KORfan

March 25, 2016 at 11:33 pm | # | Reply

The green-haired person does not have a badge displayed on their front above the waist.
- E. Bernhard Warg
  
  March 25, 2016 at 11:40 pm | # | Reply
  
  I think I see a lanyard!
  Or is it her shoulders?
  Stick figure anatomy is confusing.
- Glenn
  
  March 27, 2016 at 11:58 am | # | Reply
  
  It’ll get reconned later.
- Trae Dorn
  
  March 27, 2016 at 12:00 pm | # | Reply
  
  Wait, above the waist is a requirement at some cons? I always tie my badge to my belt…
  - Dessa
    
    March 28, 2016 at 4:25 pm | # | Reply
    
    Sakura-Con’s policies clearly state “chest high and be visible at all times.”
E. Bernhard Warg

March 27, 2016 at 5:12 pm | # | Reply
E. Bernhard Warg

March 27, 2016 at 5:13 pm | # | Reply

Whoops! I formatted that reply incorrectly. Here’s what the sound effects reminded me of:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lPA7SQbwDOQ
ed rhodes

March 27, 2016 at 5:55 pm | # | Reply

I think I’m missing the point here. Is she playing a video game? Is it annoying Ruth? Why is the panel missing? Help me out here people.
- Trae Dorn
  
  March 27, 2016 at 5:57 pm | # | Reply
  
  Ruth is playing a video game.
  
  It is annoying Sarah.
  - ed rhodes
    
    March 28, 2016 at 2:07 pm | # | Reply
    
    Thanks. I am terrible with character names. If you add enough characters to a series, I get completely lost as to who’s who!

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Trae's Blog

Forty. ( September 9th 2020 )

Forty. Forty years old. It's official, there's no more pretending that I'm not a full ass adult.

It's here, I'm forty.

It's a weird thing. Like if you'd asked me growing up where I thought I'd be at this age, the life I would have pictured for myself would have been so different. I had a lot of expectations I put on myself back then, and I'm happy I defied so many of them.

I mean, seriously, twenty year old me had no idea what they were doing and had no place trying to tell forty year old me what life should be like.

My thirties were a decade of change -- at thirty I had just gotten married, Crysta and I had just moved to Indiana, and I was sort of lost. I was lost for most of my twenties too. Not having a rudder was kind of my THING it feels like sometimes. I've spent most of my adult not really having direction. Even when we moved back to Wisconsin three years ago, it wasn't with any purpose beyond "we like it more than Indiana."

If the last year has taught me anything though, having "direction" is friggin' overrated though. I know so many people whose plans were tossed overboard in the storm that is 2020, and I've learned to appreciate what I have so much more.

I mean yeah, it's been stressful as shit and I've had a massively hard time working on creative projects (I was going to start Peregrine Lake and revive Crosarth this year -- which very much did not happen), but that's just, y'know, because we're living in a nightmare.

But my turning 40 is not a part of that nightmare. Turning 40 is, frankly, kind of nice.

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Ahem.

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Trae's Blog

Forty. ( September 9th 2020 )

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