Lair of the Lost Girl

Day one of taking a month for myself, and so far I'm managing to stick to my promise. So far. More or less.

I woke up at 6:30am, of course, in a panic about having forgotten a minor detail at work yesterday. Luckily for me, though, umbran happened to be awake too, and turned what could have been a miserable and disastrous start to the day into something much better.

Then there were bagels and eggs for breakfast, and an amazing and intense workout that pushed the edges of my ability - I know that doesn't necessarily sound like fun, but I've found more than anything, my body and mind are happiest when I can feel them *both* working. I painted my toenails an alarming shade of sparkly red in anticipation of finally getting to wear sandals, too. I don't get to wear pretty shoes at work, and one of the things I'm most looking forward to about having time off in warm weather is stretching my toes in strappy sandals.

Now I've got a cake in the oven, and I'm waiting for it to finish cooking and my hair to dry (long hot showers; another luxury I've missed) before running out for a browse-through at the garden store. It's too early to buy seedlings, but not too early for seeds, and for planning. And then off to a party for the evening.

Right now, at least, I'm enjoying this. The hardest part was fielding an email this morning from the agent I book some of my relief work through. She has some last-minute requests for work this month, and wanted to know if I had any availability. And... technically, I do. I'm only working four or five days a week this month, and there's a panicked, hysterical part of my brain that keeps shouting that I *can* work more, and I should, and I owe it to our family to work as much as I can, earn as much as I can, that I'm sabotaging us and being selfish and lazy by refusing work. But I also know how miserable I've been, and that if I keep going at this pace I'm going to fall apart Real Soon Now.

So. No booking extra dates. No six day weeks. I am going to relax and enjoy myself, goddamnit.

Fifteen minutes until the cake is done. My rhododendrons and lilies of the valleys are blooming. I'm wearing a cute new skirt, I have my battered and much-loved copy of 'Gone With the Wind' to keep me company for the next little while (I'm just at the part where Will Benteen shows up; no Rhett Butler goodness for another hundred pages or so, but that just gives me something to look forward to), and then outside into the sunshine.

At least I picked a gorgeous time of year to do this....

No work, today. That's probably a good thing, given that we got home from last night's concert somewhere around midnight. One of the many things I love about living where I do is that, if the bus is running late, we can just walk home from the T station. Many thanks, though, to my genius husband for insisting that I bring a pair of sneakers; walking two miles home in sling-back heels would have been.... uncomfortable at best.

Color me an official fan of TransSiberian Orchestra now, too. There was a bit too much sitting and not enough dancing in the aisles, but other than that, Beethoven's Last Night was an excellent concert. It was odd - I can best describe it as 'Jean Valjean sings the Greatest Hits from Dr. Faust's Christmas Carol,' but it was loud and bright and rocking and excellent.

Today has been pretty darn good, so far. umbran got a call from the Census Bureau asking him to start training a week early, which is reassuring. It's not a permanent job, and it doesn't pay as much as we'd like ideally, but it's work. And starting early means they're busy, which means that the work is likely to last a little while. He had a pretty good interview earlier this week, too. They can't move forward on that for a few weeks, but in my perfect world, now, he spends a month or so at the census while Prospective Company gets their ducks in a row, and then transfers over there. I can dream, right?

So while he juggled phone calls about that, I did some work managing of my own - I'm playing phone tag with a new clinic that's looking for a relief vet - and bustled through the standard morning routine of tea and breakfast and shower and planning for the day. Then, because it's glorious outside, the two of us went out walking.

I love the sunny weather. I am so tired of wearing heavy coats and thick sweaters and gloves; the thought of being able to go outside in a cute button-down shirt with half-sleeves and my favorite ribbon necklace, with my hair down, is amazing.

Anyway. Errands were run, paychecks were deposited, and then we wandered down to Davis Square for a last round of fundraising. The Somerville Theater had donated a handful of movie tickets for our raffle, and I was hoping to get some nice restaurant gift cards to round out the prizes. Plus, it's just fun to wander around Davis Square and people-watch. And dog-watch; I think everyone in Boston had their dogs out today. And eat ice cream, if I have to be honest. Today was the first ice cream-worthy day, and I thoroughly enjoyed my Oreo Cookie ice cream cone with rainbow sprinkles (I see no point in eating ice cream if there is no cone and no sprinkles).

I got incredibly lucky with fund-raising today - a lot of the places in Davis Square are little, local businesses, and they apparently like to be nice to community folks. We now have a nice handful of gift certificates, including a $50 gift card to the Boston Burger Company, which has me strongly tempted to buy tickets for my own raffle.

As a note, folks have asked - while I'd love for you all to come and actually be at the bake sale/raffle, I will also be selling raffle tickets here, probably starting next week.

And then we walked home, and I'm here now, letting my feet rest before I tuck into a workout and from there into rehearsing. Meanwhile, I have the sun outside, and the new issue of Cooks Illustrated, and the greatest challenge facing me is what to make for this weekend's Easter potluck. Any suggestions?

So. That about sums it up, actually.

Okay, that's exaggerating. But not by much. There was a con. It wasn't bad; it wasn't great. Most of this was because I was stressed and anxious about non-con-related stuff, leaving me predisposed to anxiety and social issues beforehand, but the end result was that, while I mostly avoided spectacular meltdowns and panic attacks, at any given point in time I was expending at least some effort to stay that way.

On the other hand, in spite of that I managed to have a mostly-good time. The panels I was on were interesting, and I managed to make at least a couple of good points on each of them. I got to dress up in fun costumes, leading to my favorite moment of the weekend (walking down the hallway dressed up as Poison Ivy, and almost walking into Harley Quinn and the Joker as Batman approached from the other end of the hallway. Spontaneous awesome roleplay and photo session ensued.). I got to spend at least some time chatting with folks I don't get to see too often, and danced with several of my favorite partners.

I even splurged and bought myself a couple of completely frivolous items, which I don't do too often - a miniature top hat decorated with peach ribbons and beads and feathers, and an utterly gorgeous silk scarf for middle eastern dance. I'm hoping to start getting back into middle eastern dance soon; one of the more surreal moments of the con for me was watching the Belly Dance Show and realizing that, for at least one of the performances, I could do that. I still tend to think of myself as a rank beginner, not good enough to even join a jam session, but... apparently I know more than I think I do.

I will be glad when the con moves, though - much of the stress that happened external to my own brain was due to being in a small, crowded space with a large number of people with variable social skills and little to no easily accessible good, hot food. And ultimately, for all the rough spots, there was fun. And there were cool people who kept me company and gave me nice surprises. And that should be enough for any weekend.

I've realized that, even when I'm posting here regularly, I don't actually talk much about what goes on in my day-to-day life. I write about specific projects that I chronicle for my own awareness, or the witty or alarmingly noteworthy bits of work, or a book or movie that caught my attention for a little while, but there's very little about what goes on in my day-to-day world.

Mostly, this is because I tend to assume no one out there actually cares very much about what goes on in my day-to-day world. I've always been kind of envious of the people who do write normal, my-life-today journals, because I figured people must care about them so much more, to want to know that kind of minute detail about their life.

On the other hand, I write this for myself, too, as much as anybody else, and there's probably some future-me who's going to glance back and read this in three or four years and want a reminder of what the heck was going on. And heck, maybe someone does want to know. Stranger things have happened.

( Hidden, though, because it's long and likely not that exciting.... )

To everyone who sent me birthday well-wishes, thank you so much! I am overwhelmed beyond belief; it's still a rather new feeling to have my birthday be remembered.

I've had a truly wonderful day today, other than a frustrating stumble at work. Joy and support and blessed good fortune have been coming at me from all sides. The techs at work brought me cheesecake. My father, of all people, sent me a gorgeous arrangement of flowers. I have a new crafting project I'm working on - my first time doing blackwork on a piece of clothing - that is going better and more easily than I had anticipated. I have a card from a client that the clinic forwarded to me, saying wonderful and sweet things that made me tear up when I read it.

And best of all, my better half has two job interviews this week. I know, intellectually, that nothing may come of them, but just being able to spend today feeling hopeful instead of panicky and anxious is worth more than almost any gift I could think of.

Right now, I am happily home and curled up with my husband, my kitty, and a comfy blanket. I am tired and achy from being stabbed repeatedly with a needle, but the tattoo is healing well, and if tired and achy is the worst I have to deal with, today is a wonderful day.

I am having a truly crummy night tonight.

I was having a wonderful day, but things started falling apart, and have just kept getting worse. Part of this is stuff I've been doing working on the inside of my head - in spite of my best efforts to just tread water right now, apparently my subconscious has decided to hammer away at stuff anyway, and while progress is good, it also stirs up a hell of a lot of mental and emotional junk.

Part of it is just a run of bad luck with regards to work, friends, social circles, and other bits and pieces all hitting at the same time.

Part of it is probably just the fact that we're well and truly into the Dark-And-Cold time right now.

And part of it is just fate, and moodiness.

I've tried talking it through, and trying to logic my way out of it. I've tried therapeutic baking. I've tried keeping busy. And right now, I think I'm going to give up and sulk here for a little while and then go to bed, and hope that tomorrow it's gone - or if not, that I'm at least too busy to notice it.....

Okay. I had mentioned working on the ludicrous task of figuring out how to make pastry hats for eggs - in case anyone was curious as to why, the end result is hiding....

( back here..... )

And once again I am reminded of why I love living in New England - and, to a lesser extent, why I love having a drive that calls for a long and variable commute.

Yes, it's cold. Yes, we had maybe two months of gorgeous weather between the Neverending Frigid Wet Spring and the Snows Of Autumn, and yes, my hair freezes now when I go outside if I don't give it time to dry before I leave for work. Yes, I'm already wearing my heavy slippers and sweaters in the house.

But oh my god, the colors. Outside my dining room window, our maple tree is almost glowing as the leaves fade to gold. Across the street, our neighbor's trees are a brilliant shade of orange-red. And as I drive to work each day, the explosions of color alongside the highway get brighter and brighter, filled with more and more different shades of red and yellow and orange and gold than I could ever imagine existed. And this doesn't even take into account the chrysanthemums in my neighbor's yards and in front of the churches and schools in my town, that I see whenever I walk to the library or the bank, putting out as many flowers as they can before their time runs out.

This is why I live here. This is why I got married in the fall, because for some reason the end of the seasons of life seems to bring out the brightest and most exuberant facets of that same life. I know it'll end soon, and everything will be gray and cold and miserable, but right now I just want to stare outside and revel in how gorgeous the world is, for as long as I can....

Lullaby Of Broadway is over and done, and I managed to survive and even have a pretty good time. Apologies for all of my wembling and fretting; sometimes it just helps to get the worry-words out of my head and onto paper (or electrons, as the case may be); I can look at them there and they seem a lot easier to face than they do when they're just thoughts and ideas.

On another note, it's interesting - of all the compliments I got this weekend, the one that meant the most to me, and made the most impact, was being told that it was fun to make me laugh. As much as I worry about being good at other things, and what people think, this still seemed like one of the nicest and most positive things I've ever been told.

And on yet another completely different note, I've remembered one of the many reasons why I adore fall. It is, at least here in New England, the most colorful of all seasons. Spring is exciting and joyful, and summer is warm and luscious, but fall is full of such gloriously bright, energetic, vibrant colors that I can't help but smile as I look around - and this is even before full leafturn is upon us. Fall flowers have the strongest colors, like they know it's their job to fill us up full of energy and enthusiasm and reds and golds and purples before the world is hidden by a blanket of gray and white for the next four or five months. And the sun is bright enough to make everything glow, without the oversaturation that sometimes hits in high summer. In a week or two I'll be lamenting the loss of short-sleeve weather, but right now I'm reveling in chrysanthemums and maple leaves and the last of the glorious sunny days....