Sometimes in life there's a plan A, and a plan B, and you can't do either but you have to choose one. But you can't. But you have to. But you can't. And both options hurt, so much, and you have stuff to do, but you can't stop thinking about it, and every time these thoughts pop up it's like a punch in the chest and you just keep crying.

This looks incredible:

http://www.filminfocus.com/focusfeatures/film/9

The guest bathroom at our place was, hmm, how should I put this? Falling down wallpaper, ugly border, and of course, the Smell. Yes, it needs the capital S. No matter how much bleaching, mopping, air freshening . . . the Smell would always return.

So, here was the plan:

1. Go to Home Depot for supplies.
2. Throw out and replace ancient cushioned toilet seat that was most likely the cause of the Smell.
3. Remove toilet tank to be able to get to the wall behind it.
4. Strip wallpaper.
5. Prime.
6. Paint.
7. Redecorate.

Here is how things actually have been going.

1. Go to Home Depot for supplies.
2. Throw out ancient cushioned toilet seat that did, indeed, have Smell.
3. Follow instructions for removing toilet tank. Turn off water, flush a few times to empty it, use absorbent towels and sponges to remove the rest of the water, loosen tank bolts . . . ahem, I said loosen tank bolts . . . ugh.
4. Cry.
5. Strip the wallpaper I can get to while waiting for Loren to get home to help me loosen tank bolts.
6. Watch Loren successfully loosen one bolt.
7. Hold screwdriver while Loren uses socket wrench on other bolt.
8. Watch Loren get drill.
9. Watch Loren attempt to loosen bolt with drill.
10. Watch Loren get rotary tool.
11. Hold toilet tank at the appropriate angle while Loren cuts through the nut with rotary tool.
12. Watch Loren attempt to get remaining half of nut off.
13. Hold tank again while Loren cuts some more.
14. Celebrate joyfully once tank is free.
15. Continue stripping wallpaper.
16. Get to the point where further stripping of paper involves scraping with my fingernail to remove tiny little bits of backing paper.
17. Notice that some of the stuff coming off isn't backing paper, but actually a layer of wallboard.
18. Decide to texture paint to cover torn paper all over the place.
19. Go to Home Depot for more supplies.
20. Prime with oil based Killz.
21. Get kind of dizzy and sick because this room is tiny with no windows.
22. When primer is dry, start slapping on joint compound and using a texture roller over it.
23. Enjoy the effect.
24. Watch chunks of wall come off onto the roller from the half-wall next to the toilet.
25. Realize actual wall is kind of rotting away.
26. Cry.
27. Complain to Loren about it.
28. Decide that no, I actually don't want to replace a wall by myself.
29. Cover rotting part with more primer.
30. When primer is dry, cover with more joint compound, but don't use texture roller.
31. Take a shower and go out to dinner with Loren because he offered because he saw how exhausted and frustrated I was and he knew I wasn't going to want to cook anything, plus he wanted to go out anyway because of how tired and hungry he was too.
32. Get up and do a second coat of joint compound on the rotting part.
33. Cross fingers.
34. Use texture roller.
35. Be amazed and happy that no more chunks are falling off.
36. Make a mental note to hire someone to replace that wall someday, like when I win the lottery. If I ever start playing the lottery, that is.

Today, I am taking the day off from this project, and then tomorrow I can start painting the ceiling, and then prime and paint the textured walls. That looks like three things to do, but who knows how many more steps it will actually turn into.

I know he loves me because:

He'll suffer through American Idol so he can spend time with me.
He always kisses me goodbye.
He rubs my neck when it hurts.
He holds my hand in public.
He let me move in. With my cat.
He patiently tolerates my bouts with irrationality.
He came to get me when my car was being a butt head.
He calms me down when I freak out over stuff.
He takes little moments to grab me and kiss me even when he's busy.
He tells me.

Steampunk airship pirate costume for 'con. I've made the goggles, I've got the outfit, now I'm done repainting the gun:




I just have to make a holster, possibly some jewelry, and . . . one more thing.

Had time off this week, made stuff.

( pictures after the cut )

Kieran, put the moon back when you're done playing with it!

I knew it was inevitable that I'd move in with my guy eventually, I just didn't know it would be so soon. But it turns out that when Dad isn't getting any work, my salary alone isn't enough to keep us in this place, so he's moving in with my sister and I'm moving in with my boyfriend. 

I'm happy and scared.  I'm a bit scared that I should be more scared than I am.  I'm worried about the process of moving, because I hate it, and about if our cats are going to get along . . . but not so much about if he and I are going to enjoy living together.  Of course I have a smidgen of doubt, but it's not from anything about him or anything about me, but just because, well, you're supposed to wait longer than this, right?  You're not supposed to move in with someone after only a few months of dating, right? Even if you know without a doubt that this is the person you're going to be with for the rest of your life?  Even if the first time you slept over you felt like you were home? 

I feel like the pressure to worry is coming from outside myself, from what everyone says you're supposed to do, not because I have any real reason to worry.  But this whole relationship has been like that, like it's been difficult to believe that it really could be this easy, this drama-free, this secure, this . . . obvious.  But it is.  It all just makes sense. 

If you're my friend, and I've been neglecting you, I'm sorry.  I promise it's nothing personal. 

I made these this weekend for 'con. Yes, I know DragonCon isn't until September. If you want more pics and some details on how I made them, you can visit my Craftster post here because I don't feel like typing it all over again: www.craftster.org/forum/index.php

I've been hesitant to post much here about my new relationship, since it seems so many of my friends are going through breakups, and I don't want to be insensitive, throw it in everyone's face that I'm happy.  But . . . I am.  Very.

It's sort of an unusual relationship, and if you want to post some sort of negative comment in judgment of me and my decision, just be aware that anything negative you could be thinking I sure as hell have already thought, and dealt with.  See, the way we met is, about 10 years ago he was, for a little while . . . married to my sister.  Yeah.  Him.  My nephew's father.  I know, I know, I KNOW!  I keep saying I should just go out and buy a banjo already . . .

But, ok, actually, see.  Yes, yes, shut up.  See, the only two people who could possibly be hurt in the situation are my nephew and my sister, and they're both ok with it.  My sister actually said she already figured we'd get together eventually and she decided years ago that she would be ok with it.  So, well, we've gotten to know each other over the last year or so, and then a few weeks ago feelings were confessed, and I freaked out about it for about a week, headaches, stomach aches, thinking I was a horrible person.  And now.  Now.  All the freaking out is over, no one is getting hurt, and we're in love and I really think it's going to last.  I mean, yes, I know I say that every time I start a new relationship, but the difference is that this time the boyfriend thinks it's going to last too. And everything just feels . . . right.

Yesterday, a 6 year old girl told me about a holiday she invented, and I think it needs to be shared with the world.  It started last night, but it lasts 3 days, so you all still have a chance to participate.

Darnit Bear Days, Nov 13 - 15 every year

Before you go to sleep, you have to take your smelliest shoe and place it in the funniest place in your room.  (Funniest place = place you would least expect a shoe to be)  The next day, you will find a gift from the Darnit Bear in your shoe.  The gift will be candy and a list of new bad words you've never heard before.

I'm not sure if you get the gift every night, or if you just do it three nights to give the Darnit Bear a better chance of getting to everyone.  I'll have to ask the little girl about that on Monday.

I am happy. If you know why, and think I shouldn't be . . . too bad because I'm going to be anyway. 

I went to the dance studio tonight to try out yet another class.  I've already tried two other classes, the first was a disaster and the second was a near disaster.  This one was a beginning hip hop class, supposedly perfect for people with no dance background.

Um.  By the time the instructor was on "eight" I was still trying to figure out "one."  It became apparent there was going to be no explanation of how to actually do the things, just a demonstration of like 4 things, then everyone else does it, then a demonstration of the next 4 things, and repeat.  And here's me thinking "Wait. What?" There was one move that seemed to be moving the shoulders and hips and arms all at the same time in different directions, and she did it so damn fast I didn't have a clue what I was supposed to do.

I lasted 15 minutes before I left. I didn't know what else to do.  A serious risk of actually running into the other students was starting to develop, and this is not a joke or an exaggeration.  I am absolutely stunned at just how bad I am at this.   I'm not all "boo hoo I suck give me sympathy," rather  just pragmatically thinking that maybe I have to face the very real possibility that I am actually incapable of learning to dance.

I have one more class already paid for, and I've emailed the studio and explained my situation, asking for advice on which class I should try next, so I haven't given up yet.

I have joked about my dance inability in the past, about how some people are color blind, some are tone deaf, and I'm whatever the equivalent is for dance.  But maybe it's not a joke, maybe that is a real thing, and I have it.  I really hope not.  When I watch dancers, I am captivated, and I want nothing more than to move how they move and feel what they feel.  It's killing me to think I may never be able to.

I'm done.  This insecurity trip is over.  It's old, it's tired, and it doesn't even feel genuine anymore, it feels like a role I've been playing.  I'm through with it.  Fuck it.

This is a quotation I just came across:

Her whole life is looking for the appropriate: pretending to be normal, acting on what normal people already know. This is the one thing nobody knows how to do, and somebody needs to tell her that.

It's from a recap of the show True Blood on the website Television Without Pity, written by one of my favorite internet writers, Jacob Clifton.

It's interesting how every once in a while, I can be reading something just for fun like this, and come across something that just hits me as profound and personally meaningful. 

Could this possibly be true? That no one actually knows how to be normal, that it's not just me?  That all those seemingly confident people out there are sort of just pretending?  If that's true, someone needs to tell me that too, just 20 years ago please.

Changes, changes. I've quit smoking and started dance classes. The place I'm going has lots of styles, and I'm still trying them out to see which one I want to focus on. The reasons for taking dance are many: to get in shape, lose weight, learn something new, socialize more . . . and one more reason I'll get back to at the end of this.

( Read more... )

Since I mostly post here to gripe when things aren't going well, it could come across that I'm a generally unhappy person, but that isn't true. I'm actually happy with my life in general, just some days it takes extra effort to remind myself of that.

I had a date planned for today.  A first date, with someone I met online and talked to on the phone once.  He canceled. Via text. With no explanation. This got me down a bit, but it gets worse.

I called a friend of mine. He's a relatively new friend, who I also met online. I wanted to date him, but he just wanted to be friends, and I think it's for the best.  We get along pretty well but I'm sure he'd drive me nuts if he were my boyfriend, and vice versa.  But he really does want to be friends, and we've hung out several times and it's been enjoyable.

So anyway, we had vague plans to do something at some point this weekend, so I called to let him know my date canceled and I was kinda down about it.  I suppose I was hoping he'd come to my rescue and offer to spend time with me, but he didn't. He's going to Pirate Palooza this evening with some friends.  I didn't want to be needy and clingy and ask "Can I come too?" but I was still hoping he'd make the offer to let me tag along.  But he didn't.

So now not only am I smarting from the cancelation of the date, I'm also starting to worry that maybe my friend doesn't like me as much as I thought he did. Maybe I'm not important to him.  Maybe he thinks I'm embarassing and he doesn't want his other friends to meet me.

So, the last party I went to was Barrie's going away party, and she's back now, yay!  I mean, sad that her plans didn't work out, but so happy to have her back. 

So I was recently browsing the Flickr accounts of people who were at that party and taking pictures, and I found pics that one person took, and of course, again, I'm not in any of them.  Same thing happened last time I went to a party at Bill and Cat's. It's a bit irksome. Granted, I don't go to a lot of parties, so the people who bring cameras don't really know me that well and aren't going to be aiming at me.

But my lack of party going in itself is a bit irksome, because as I browse these Flickr accounts, I see evidence of all these parties and other fun events, attended by people I guess are my friends, yet I never hear about these things until afterwards.  There's a loop, and I'm not in it, and I don't know how to get in. I've been working at DragonCon since my teen years, and I've never been to any parties there.  Some people come work and in their first year they go party hopping all night, while I just drift along hoping to hear something about a party that people I know will be going to, but I can never find anything so I just go to bed and hear all the great "you should have been there!" stories in the morning. 

I don't think there's anything particularly off-putting about me, or maybe there is and I don't know it, but it's getting kind of difficult to not be paranoid. In regular life, I talk to people online, I call people on the phone, I see them at karaoke sometimes, and no one ever mentions "Hey, we're planning this awesome thing, you should come!"  And then at DragonCon, I work my shifts, I go see stuff, I go visit people who hang out in Harris or Ops, but I'm pretty much just wandering around on my own.  It's like everyone has their friends that they hang on and tag along with, in pairs or groups, and I'm not part of any of those groups. I don't want to beg to be included, I don't want to stand there like a desperate puppy going "Hey!  Where are you guys going?  You're all dressed up.  Are you going to a party?  Can I come?  Can I can I can I?" because that's annoying.  So instead, I happen to run into groups of people, chat for a while, and they're off to do their fun things, and I go to bed. Ah well. I have a morning shift, I should probably be sleeping anyway.