Lair of the Lost Girl

It's been almost a year since I cut my hair, and I still love having it short. But part of the fun of short hair is experimenting and playing around with it. And I've played around with rag curls (epic disaster) and color (amazing) and curling irons (still don't really know what to do with them), and so it's about time to start playing around with letting it grow.

And what I'm realizing is that, for people with incredibly thin, fine, bone-straight hair, there is absolutely no graceful way to go from a short pixie to a bob. Like, none at all.

I know, get it cut in layers. I know, get it cut shaggy. I know, get it trimmed regularly by a professional. Believe me, I'm doing my very best. It's just that I've hit what I'm guessing is the hair equivalent of the miserably gawky pre-teen phase. The longest layer, at the top, is maybe 5" long - just long enough to hit my eyes but not long enough to pin to one side, and because it's so thin and light it looks feathery whether I want it to or not. Just long enough to cover the tops of my ears awkwardly, not long enough to push behind them. Too long to play peekaboo with a headband, but short enough that if I try to tuck it back with said headband the ends stick straight up.

And, again because my hair is so fine, any attempt to put any sort of product in it at this length just weights it down and makes it look sticky and dirty. When it's shorter I can use styling gunk to get it to do what I want (which is usually 'look cute and tousled, but in a cool way'); now it's long enough that I can't get any lift - there's too much weight from the length, so I just wind up with gunky floppy hair. That feathers across my forehead and hides the top half of my ears.

I feel like an ugly duckling, and I'm about to cut this experiment short. Literally. If I can ever carve an hour out of my schedule to get to my hairdresser. Maybe when winter rolls around and I can hide under a hat I'll try again, but for now I think I'm out of patience with this mop....

In other news, I finally feel like I'm making progress in silks again.

I've been at the same class level for a while now - this isn't unexpected; if nothing else, my school only has 5 levels and each class session is only 8 weeks. The further up you move, the longer you stay at that level as you work on gaining finesse and strength and mastering more complicated moves. But for the past couple of sessions I've felt more frustrated than enthusiastic, and it was starting to spoil my fun.

Part of it was being sick - missing at least a couple of weeks each session because I was too weak or dizzy or nauseated, and having to take it easy on the weeks that I did make it in. Part of it was having too many people in class, and sharing a class with students who were either close friends with the teacher or were just far more willing to grab and hold the instructor's attention than I was - I admit that, in a group setting, I have a strong tendency to yield attention and spotlight at the first hint that anyone else wants it, and it's difficult to the point of painful to ask for my share of time and attention. And part of it was just feeling like I wasn't getting any better.

But for the past two weeks I've been physically better than I have for months, and it shows. And we've gone from 5 students (and me getting shunted to the shortest silk on the lowest point so I was just physically incapable of attempting half of the wraps) to two students. And it's clear that my teacher wasn't utterly oblivious, because she's spent the past two weeks clearly and deliberately asking me what I want to work on, drilling me on those things until I feel like I understand them and have them in my muscle memory, and giving me detailed feedback and support.

This is the school I love and remember, and this is the hobby I adore. I'm learning again, moving forward again, and while I may never actually master this crazy art form, at least I feel like I'm not wasting time and energy and money anymore....

(Also, new userpic. Only 10 months after chopping off all the hair...)

Three months and approximately $5000 later, Western medicine found nothing wrong with me. My doctor ultimately told me I was just "depressed and anxious" and that I needed to see a therapist. He put me on antidepressants, and when they didn't work, tripled the dose. He referred me to someone whose first available visit is in late October, and said I should just "live with this" until then.

This past Monday I went for my first acupuncture session. The acupuncturist cautioned me that what she was doing wasn't a guarantee, wasn't a miracle cure, and usually took at least a few sessions to take effect.

I haven't been sick since then. This is the first time since March that I've gone for more than 48 hours without throwing up. I'm still being cautious, eating carefully, and taking the meds that my doctor prescribed (though if I'm still doing well, I'm planning on stopping them after tomorrow's acupuncture session), but for the most part I feel.... completely normal.

I'm sure my doctor will tell me that it's just the antidepressants kicking in finally and that I'm having a delayed positive response from them, or that it's a placebo effect and I'm only getting better because my anxiety is being placated by having some form of treatment to latch onto, but frankly, screw him. You know what I'm going to go do now?

EAT LUNCH.

Hey, folks!

So life is a kind of hectic mess right now, and I've fallen off the blogging bandwagon (as seems to be happening a lot lately), but there's something going on that I'm really excited about that I could use all y'all's help with.

I've gotten the official permits and jumped through all the hoops, and I'm going to be running another charity raffle at Arisia 2017 - this time, to raise funds for the Alzheimer's Association in memory and honor of Sir Terry Pratchett.

Last time we ran a charity raffle at Arisia we raised over $4000. I want to beat that this year. And if I want to do that, I'm going to need some boss prizes.

So - any of you folks who make stuff, want to donate a thing you've made? Writers, want to donate an autographed book? Jewelers, crafters, sewing mavens, you name it - I need your stuff! People with contacts in any fan-related area, want to put in a good word for me with your friends and ask them to donate? Every penny we raise goes to charity, every donation is tax-deductible, and will earn you my immense praise and gratitude and a spot on the 'I Donated' Whiteboard of Awesome at the con!

I know it's a bit of a ways out, but the earlier I can get to work on this the better the raffle will be....

No matter how much I intend to keep up here, it's a hard habit to get back into. Especially when life keeps piling stuff all over me, good and bad. It's hard to find the time and intention to sit and write, when my spare moments feel like they're getting parceled out like the last few rationed doses of medicine in an apocalypse.

That said, there's stuff, and life, and it's going.

umbran's contract was terminated last week, due to complications of a corporate buy-out, so we're back to being a one (not-so-steady) income family. He's already had a handful of interviews, so hopefully this will only be a temporary setback, and goodness knows we've ridden this merry-go-round before, but it's a complication that I could really live without right now.

Hospice, on the other hand, is thriving. Last week and the week before I had maybe one day in clinic each week, and spent the rest of my time seeing house calls, averaging 2-3 a day. Which, for boutique medicine, is pretty good. By the end of the first week I was finding a pretty good rhythm - wake up, answer emails and phone calls that came in overnight, prep charts for the day; head out to morning visits; come home to write up charts, grab lunch, and process anything that needs processing, then back out again for afternoon/evening visits and errands. And the more I do it, the more I love it. And it's amazing to have enough clients to stay steady like that.

Next month registration opens for the first-ever Hospice Certification Program - the program itself will start in June and run through next year; if I make it through the whole thing I'll be part of the world's first round of Certified Hospice and Palliative Care Veterinarians. I'm equal parts excited and terrified; I want so much to learn, but at the same time it's been about a decade and a half since I've taken a formal class or a standardized test, and they'll also be requiring written case studies, and I've never done anything like that.

Meanwhile, I'll also be back in the hospital tomorrow. The initial treatment helped for a little while, but I'm back to throwing up almost everything I eat, so now I get to spend 4 hours having a gastric motility study done. If this doesn't give us the answer.... I honestly have no idea; we've ruled out just about everything possible. We're past looking for zebras and into unicorn hunts, and I'm running out of both ideas for what to try next and energy to push my doctors to keep looking. (And if my husband doesn't find a job soon, I'll also be out of health insurance.)

Silks. I love silks. We had a substitute instructor this week, which meant things being explained in new ways, and we have a smaller class in general this semester, which means more time to actually practice. I had to give up on my idea of a second class, given the financial situation, but with any luck I'll be able to pick that up next semester instead.

In general, for all of my lamenting about health and financial woes, life is pretty good. I have good friends and good hobbies and good books to read. I love my job and my husband and my friends. We're entering the time of year when I'm able to start going out and doing stuff - there's a sheep-shearing and wool festival this weekend, a steampunk festival next weekend, friends' seder last weekend. gishwhes registration is open (anybody want to play?); larps are running, grapes and rhubarb are growing in my garden.

Now to just get the last few kinks ironed out....

I need to admit something here.

After 20+ years of being a purist when it comes to LARP - sticking exclusively to theater-style games, wanting nothing at all to do with live combat - I finally have to admit that there's fun to be found in boffer games.

I still have zero interest in actually participating in combat; my abuse history makes it so I just have a massive mental block against hitting people, even in pretend. And I'll probably never actually be an actual, formal player in any of the campaigns; despite most of the assertions that one can be fully involved in the game while never engaging in combat, it seems that that still means 'you can play the healer.' I get enough of that in my day job, thank you.

But I've lucked into a couple of groups out here that are willing to work around my anti-hitting-things policy to let me play as an NPC - picking up a handful of semi-scripted roles over the course of the weekend, to help drive the story. While I can't hit people, they're slowly learning that I can be their go-to girl for emotional gut-punches, driving plot, and providing color. And it's turned out to be a lot more fun than I anticipated.

Usually I like playing deep, complex, extended parts, but there's something kind of liberating about only needing to be in a given role for a couple of hours. And knowing that I'm going out for a specific purpose gets around a lot of my worries and anxiety about having my character be useful, or feeling like I'm pushing my way into a space where I'm unwelcome. Plus, it means I get to try a lot of roles that I normally wouldn't think of myself.

If anything, I feel a bit like I'm being catered to by the GM's, and I'm not sure why they put up with me. I'm an utter princess - I won't fight, I won't play scenes past 2am, I won't camp or stay onsite, I won't write my own scenes or characters, I do my best to avoid anything that would have me interacting with rules in any way. And yet they invite me back, and save the juiciest parts of the story for me (immortal Atlantean exile? scion of an alternate-reality Roman ruling family? literal nightmare fodder? Go for it!).

Whatever the reasons they indulge my whims and reward my unreasonable demands with more and shinier parts, I'll take it. (In fairness, this also means that I take parts that involve me standing in the biting cold near midnight, in a game with Actual Real Ghosts, playing a character with a sheet over my head like a Charlie Brown Halloween special, shouting 'BoooooOOOOooooo!' in an attempt to convince the players that I, too, am a fearsome spirit.)

Okay, that last bit was actually ridiculously awesome too. Sometimes the one true way to be cool is to embrace the dorkitude of a situation, and make everyone else wonder why they're not cool enough to have sheets on their head.

Anyway. Boffer larps. Not as bad, or as shallow, as I thought. Still not PC'ing, but I'm glad I got talked into at least joining in some way....

I missed posting about it here, because I've been swamped with work, but this past week was the one-year anniversary of my practice.

One year ago I saw my first patient through Autumn Care & Crossings Veterinary Hospice, taking the idea from idle whim to cautious concept to actual business. And I couldn't have done it without the help of more friends than I can list, my amazing husband, and a lot of other professionals who held my hand along the way.

I have a practice. It's successful - I'm getting word-of-mouth referrals, and making enough of a profit to cut back on my relief work to less than half-time. It's a year in and it's still going and getting bigger and better.

I'm celebrating this milestone by making a donation to the MSPCA in honor of every patient of AC&C that's passed away over this past year. And next year is going to be even better - the International Association of Animal Hospice and Palliative Care is starting their certification program this June, and I'll be taking part in that, becoming one of the first certified hospice practitioners in the world.

A year. Wow. How the heck did that happen? Whatever else is going on in my body and my life, I am still lucky beyond words....

Some habits are harder to form and keep than others. Especially when those habits take time and energy, and you're incredibly depleted on both.

I spent last weekend in PA at a fairly awesome Deadlands-themed LARP, where I realized that most of my late-1800's themed costuming matches my current cotton-candy hair far better than anticipated, spent much-needed time reconnecting with old friends I haven't seen in far too long, and got to play out an amazingly dramatic and angst-filled romance plot. And I'm grateful beyond words that in my current fatigued state, I can still fill my extroverted heart and soul to overflowing by curling up half-asleep in the lap of a friend while people around me laugh and talk and generally surround me with joy and noise and happiness.

And then home, to work. And work, and work, and work. I'm filling in at a clinic that's chronically overbooked and under-staffed, so I'm generally lucky if I get out less than an hour before closing, and every work day this week has been followed by a late-night house call after work hours. And I love what I do, but that's draining as hell. And I know I could say no, but... I don't want to. Because I'm still growing my business, because I feel like what I do is important, because it feels good to be needed, because a lot of things.

Meanwhile, it turns out my doc put me on the wrong dose of supplement, so no wonder that's not working. Taking 2000 IU of Vitamin D when you're supposed to be taking 50,000 is kind of significant. So hoping that fixing that will help. And if it doesn't, I get to put my foot down and demand a referral to an endocrinologist.

Right now, though, it's the weekend and I don't have any house calls booked (at the moment) and I'm looking forward to at least one day of nothing more strenuous than going to a movie and maybe out to lunch...

So it turns out yesterday's car failure wasn't a one-time problem. Which is reassuring, in a way; at least it means I wasn't an idiot who left the dome light on or something equally inane and avoidable. On the other hand, it also meant that when I tried to head out to a house call an hour away this morning, my car just blinked and died.

Thankfully, I have a AAA membership, a husband who was able to stay home to wait for them to arrive, and another (16+ year old, rattletrap, wheezy, pathetic) car that I could make the trip in. One new battery later and my car is back in healthy shape.

Other than that, it's been a pretty quiet day. Still dealing with severe fatigue - I slept about 8-9 hours last night, and still crashed out for another hour or so after my house call. But I also made it to circus school for an hour or so, and cooked dinner. So. Progress? I don't want to get my hopes up, but I don't want to wallow in futility or panic either.

Circus practice was good, at least. My stamina is still crap, but I'm getting it back slowly, and I'm finally getting the hang of windmills. And it felt good to have the time to cook; I have a fondness for overly-baroque recipes, and tonight was a good opportunity to play around in that space (poached chicken breasts that start with a brine in the poaching liquid and then are more-or-less sous vide).

We'll see where this coming week takes me.

Oh - and for anyone wondering what aerial windmills are....

( video - not of me - hidden here.... )

So tomorrow is the day that I go back through the year and think about what I've learned. But this has been such an eventful, change-ful, complex year that there's more going on in my head than I can just sum up there.

I've had so many good things happen this year. I went from 'hey, maybe I'll start my own practice' to a business with over a hundred clients, turning a profit, and on the path to be one of the first certified veterinary hospice practitioners in the world. (Dude. How many people get to be part of the world's first ANYTHING?)

I've gotten good enough with my crafting to win prizes for my crochet and my spinning. I remember the first skein of yarn that I spun, and how frustrating and lumpy and ugly it was. I've gotten good enough with aerials that my teacher is pushing me to perform, and to branch out into other apparatuses.

I cut my hair for the first time in almost 30 years. And in the process, I shed not just a foot of hair, but most of those 30 years of body-baggage. It's bizarre, but somehow getting rid of the one part of my appearance that I took the most pride in changed my body image enough to let me see myself with new eyes.

At the same time.... I lost another dear friend to cancer, and I'm still facing emotional aftershocks from that. My father started facebook-stalking me and having family members send me threatening messages. My husband was out of work again, and is still doing contract work. I spent nearly a year fighting to get the health insurance that we've been paying for all along, and dealing with collections agencies in the meantime.

My new car was rear-ended by a semi, and the trucking company is still refusing to take responsibility for the accident, and are fighting any request to pay for the repairs. I'm still dealing with residual pain from my spinal surgery. I've had pneumonia twice.

I've dealt with depression before, but this year it got bad enough to actually seek out meds. And owning my own practice has led to some toxic mental and behavioral patterns around work hours, as well as anxiety when calls don't come in as frequently as I hope they will.

It's been a roller-coaster of a year. I'm not the same person I was at the start. But... I think I like who I am right now.