As of today, I'm starting a little diary detailing odd moments in my Minecrafting experience, from my character's point of view. The first of these will come in a batch, while the rest are likely to come one at a time.

---Entry 1, January 16th

It is now a week since I became sick of the sight of snow, and, in a fit either of brilliance or madness, abandoned the mainland in my small wooden boat - a boat I had not built, much less used, until about an hour before I pushed off from the shore. Fortunately for me, I appear to be a reasonably good shipbuilder, as I have yet to sink beneath the waves and meet my demise in the no-doubt-sincerely-sympathetic embrace of one of the many squid that seem to infest these waters.

I sailed three days before I came across anything remarkable - an island! Sailing towards the little spit of rock protruding from the waves, I very nearly wrecked my precious boat upon the shore of what turned out, in fact, to be a wholly unremarkable island, but when I came upon it, the fact that it wasn't either snow, ice, water or lava had me jumping for joy.

The night after I landed upon this little rock, I realized that I was in need of somewhere other than that rock upon which to sleep. Taking advantage of what is either a hole in the concept of sanity or the fact that I am apparently a wizzard, I eschewed the idea of building a house upon that miserable rock in favor of building a series of ice domes beneath the waves, and making my home there. It is from my house in the smallest of these domes that I write this diary now, though I am thinking that I may soon depart to further explore my world.

---Entry 2, January 21st

Given the difficulty of locating my home beneath the waves by the light of the single candle that, at the moment, isn't even lit, I have shaped the island that first led me to this place into a pair of perfect triangles, the smaller of which points directly to my home. On the opposite side of my sunken villa is another of these island signposts, built up from the seafloor using either crazy-powers or wizzardry, as I have yet to decide which is responsible for the apparent viability of ice as a submarine building material. With these signposts in place, I am now prepared to sail into the east, sailing after adventure, the sun, and maybe something that isn't either a bloody barren rock or a river of fire carving its way through a snowy valley.

P.S. - Why did I decide on ice, of all things? Glass is transparent too. I suspect shenanigans. Whether it is wizzardry or crazy that drives these shenanigans, only time and perhaps an errant luck-dragon will tell.

---Entry 3, January 25th

I am now a few days out from my home, and no significant landmasses have been sighted, though various miserable spires of rock have greeted me. Very nearly wrecked the boat on the head of one of those blasted friendly squid. Nearly ready to call an end to this whole adventure thing.

On the second day after leaving my home, I began to worry that I may not find it again. To this end, I have, using whatever breach in the laws of something or other (leaning towards wizzardry today), constructed two obelisks since then - one of obsidian, because I thought it would look cool, the other from the Glowstone I gathered the last time I got ideas of "adventure" into my head, because I'm relatively certain that a glowing pillar of rock would be hard to miss.