tinhuviel | Entries tagged with ramble

From My Handwritten Journal

A few hours after Program, I Uber'd over to downtown, where I got my first pair of shoes in over 5 years. It's a good thing Birkenstocks last for so long, considering how spendy they are, and that they are addictive hoof holders that prevent devoted wearers from wearing anything else for any period of time. The pair I had were literally falling apart. I'm talking three flaps of shoe, flopping with every step I took. Not to mention the shoes were too big for me, thanks to all the weight loss. I can attribute more than one fall, or almost fall, to wearing these menaces to my well-being. You can call me a lot of things, but Imelda Marcos ain't one of 'em, buddy!

Anyway, it did not take long to get what I went there for...the Arizona style of sandal, which was the first style I ever got, and still my favourite. At my request, the shoe saleswoman measured my feet and fitted me with a size 40 shoe, instead of the size 42 I had always worn before. When your shoes are too large on you, that's a definite indication that you've lost a fuckton of weight. I left my old shoes behind, in the box the new shoes came in, telling the saleswoman to consider the box a coffin for the long-dead zombie shoes.

Instead of Ubering straight back to the house, I decided to try out the new shoes (spit) (if you didn't get that joke, you're not a real Twin Peaks fan, just sayin'.) and mosy over to Balboa Park. That's where I am currently writing this, cradled in the giant roots of a eucalyptus tree. I've taken pics to accompany the journal entry. I tend to keep my handwritten journaling separate from the Cliffs of Insanity material but, in this instance, the twain shall meet, just for the hell of it.

When I got to the park, I made a beeline for the playground. The swings were empty, so I plopped my nearly 50-year-old arse down in one, and began to swing. I did this for about 15 minutes, all the while listening to a dude play his flute. After I finished swinging, I walked further into the park. When I passed the flautist, he began playing The Fiddler's Irish Jig. I don't know if he saw my green hair and opted to go full on Gael, breaking away from the Jazz he'd been playing exclusively up until I sashayed by, or if it was just an odd coincidence. Being a perpetual "victim" of synchronicity, I'm not a real big proponent of coincidence.

I guess I should head back to the house now. Margaret needs to talk to me about the move, and something tells me (like my body, duh) I'm going to need a bathroom sooner rather than later.

Mood: content
Where? the house
Music: PJ Harvey - Long Snake Moan
Crossposts: http://tinhuviel.livejournal.com/2757646.html

I really want to stay up and watch Battlestar Galactica tonight, but I also really want to curl up and die as early as possible once I'm allowed to go home and stay there. I know I could tape BSG and watch it tomorrow, but watching it in real time is part of the experience for me. I can't explain it. Battlestar Galactica and Lost are two shows that I would much prefer to see during their air time. Maybe I'll take a nap, get up for BSG, then curl up and die. That may work.

Becky likes ELO. She's 21 and likes ELO. She didn't know who they were, but she'd heard "Evil Woman" before and liked it. For the first half of the day, my young friend was rocking onward to my CD. I'm impressed with her and her taste in music. The fact that she's so young and has just been grooving to Jeff Lynne's tunes threatens to restore a shred of my faith in humanity....just a shred.

The upper portion of my back is having mild muscle spasms. Not so bad that I'm immobilised, but bad enough to take my breath. Being a female of child-bearing years sucks big hairy ox balls. Every month, my body just decides to fall all to hell, my mood is worse than it usually is, and I get weepy. Weepy. Sith don't weep. We kick pooty-tang and laugh about it. We aren't supposed to fucking weep.

To top off my already shit day, the Feudal Mistress gave me a project in rifling through all the POP on a printed list that's about 1.5 inches thick, and figuring out what we can scrap. I did a scrap voucher for all the old New Release catalogs then, with Becky's help, sorted through the POP by label and created an Excel spreadsheet that included the selection number, artist, title, and quantity of each item. It's been a day long task. Only now was I able to forward the list to the offending parties who haven't yet gotten their crap outta here. Now I must wait to hear back from everyone as to what we can toss and what must remain; however, after next Friday, it's no longer my problem. Yay!

My weekend is pretty much planned out. Saturday, I'm sleeping and trying to recover from my heinous state of womanliness. Sunday, I'm mowing grass for the first time in two weeks. Of course, mowing is dependent on whether or not it rains. If it rains, the grass will continue to grow out of control. My front yard looks like Jordy Verrill's in the movie Creepshow and that ain't purdy.

Right now, I'm looking out the window watching a thunderhead literally boil. That's pretty cool.

Mood: bored, cranky, menstrual, and borderline rabid
Music: "Mr. Blue Sky" by Electric Light Orchestra

but I've been getting this ungodly craving to play video games lately...and I don't even have game system. What's up with that?
The last game I played was King's Field II on the Quality Assurance Playstation. It was a fantasy adventure game and I was lost in it, actually weeping when I finally reached the end. What a dweeb...
I'd like to find another game like King's Field II, but it'd be pretty pointless without a game system.
Hopefully the dread urge will just go away.

Mood: geeky
Music: Pink "Don't Let Me Get Me"

Barry has an agent now so plans are changing yet again. My Virgo sensibilities are aquiver with chaos. I need a lie-down, seriously! Enough about me though, this is great news, really. Better a professional handle this than a bunch of nutty fans who have 0 experience in matters of booking. I have minimal experience but my location prevents my using them to any decent degree.

My boss asked me today if Friday the 13th was unlucky for me. I informed her, with typical Goth-like flourish, that every day of this year has been unlucky or otherwise unfortunate. My persistent grimness keeps her away from me and, even though this makes me infinitely gleeful, I'm loathe to show my pleasure for fear that she may return, thinking that the black clouds have dispersed. This delight within depression reminds me of a little poetic skit thing my grandmother used to do:

"I'm happy when I'm sad... I'm always feeling bad."
"How are you?"
"Terrible..."
"That's good!"
"I'm happy when I'm sad."

bwahahahah!

Lew has survived his cold and is planning on spending the weekend with us. Other than working at the answering service tomorrow, I'm looking forward to it all. Steph and I are supposed to get together to go shopping for Aunt Tudi's Christmas gift on either Saturday or Sunday, and Lew and I are meeting James on Sunday. It will be a festive occasion to be certain unless, of course, my appearance is a bit too unaesthetic.

Reading

asim's journal has gotten me to wanting to get back into Middle Eastern Dance. I really need to get in touch with Cecily and

grauwulf to see if they want to start this back up. I'm just wondering if I still fit in my make-shift bellydance outfit... Perhaps it's time to have a proper one made. I'd make it myself, but it'd look like Picasso had tried his hand at fashion designing, so I think I'll refrain from that particular misery for myself and my friends.

OK, back to work for me. Only 6 hours to go....and counting.

Mood: creative
Music: ??

Got to work at 7:20, paid bills at lunch time, here til 4:30...I'm tired and achy and ready for bed.
Having odd feelings about everything right now. Wondering if anything is really worth my effort...just seems like the Law of Three doesn't really apply to me, as I always seem to fall short. Or maybe it's just my attitude. If these silly quizzes to which I am addicted are any indication, it's definitely my attitude!

which eye are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

gack!

"fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, and hate leads to suffering." Oh, what the hell does Yoda know? *phtptptptppt*!

And if the radio station plays that little snit Avril one more time today, I'm going to go on a rampage!

Mood: pensive
Music: Avril Lavigne "Complicated"

Well, after a really scary day at work and about an hour of insane exercise, I am finally at home and vegging in front of the computer. It's a Good Thing, 'cos I really needed to chill for a while...well, chill might not be a good word since it's 90 some odd degrees outside and the A/C is in the other room. Let's just say I'm half-baked. ha ha

Llew was supposed to come to the abode tonight but he was out in the heat earlier and got rather ill himself, so he opted to stay home and vegetate himself. I don't bloody blame him, but I do miss him. We'll reunite tomorrow though.

Just heard from MmmMmmmm. Seems she got a wee note from a soul we mutually admire. She's rather pleased. Yay for MmmMmmmm!

Y'know, perching on the end of my bed like a fucking gargoyle just to work on the Internet is no fun. I really must get my modem card replaced in the laptop so I can be free...not to mention being able to start my work on the Shriekback site again...SHEESH.

So, one more day at the hellhole and I can forget about it for 2 days. That Black Music Month hooya is still going on and it has run me so far behind in my regular duties that I'm ready to pull out my hair. If you see a pudgy Sinead O'Connor lookalike, you can figure I finally lost it and started yanking out hanks of head floss.

End of Babble. Good Night, Sweets!

Mood: calm
Music: Barry Andrews "Rossmore Road"