between a killer head cold, the weekend, and a seriously impending wedding (gotta leave here in 3 hours), i've been off work for 6 days. and i've been spectacularly... something. i dunno. i've just been.
i'm not paganally inclined, but i do like the idea of the new year happening earlier. the beginning of the dark days of winter seems the perfect time to renew and refresh, so i've adopted that one aspect. that the new year, metaphorically, starts tomorrow. out with the old, in with the... well, not new, but definitely the better.
so here's the old. out with it!
the sick part of the last week took a huge energy toll, so i didn't really do anything exciting until yesterday. it was pretty much all i could do to stay awake while watching tv. reading was too much effort, and i didn't have it in me to do any writing. i wasn't just tired, i was weary. soul weary. and sad, too.
there is a different, better BVG entry
in the hopper, but the beatnik has to post it. once the blog gets switched over to wordpress, i'll be able to do that myself, but i don't have admin rights on the typepress account. maybe in a month or so, when things get a bit calmer around here we'll get that all switched around and taken care of.
yesterday, sabina came over for a long overdue slice of glitterpie and to watch drive angry - arguably nicholas cage's official worst movie ever. certainly his worst wig ever. sabina and i have a particular penchant for shitty movies, and she finishes my sentences (along with me, as i'm saying them. it's weird) and fits into my vintage dresses. but then she went home and i went back to half-napping through criminal minds reruns.
dreams have been weird - quite literally fever dreams. i remember too many details to even begin to jot them down. the gist of all, though, is things undone, things not right, things going all off-kilter because of the actions of others, and that's absolutely mirroring real life right now. i just feel like too much is dependent on the whims of the world at large, and it makes me uncomfortable. it's hard to be the master of one's own destiny when the thoughts and feelings of additional people are involved. that's not correct - it's easy if there's honesty in the mix, but i've learned the hard way not to count on that so much. it goes against my nature, because i want to believe that people are reasonably good - and i do think they are - it's just that ego and fear and all that garbage sometimes gets in the way. i wish it didn't. i wish it was easier to get to the creamy center, that's where the best stuff is. and yeah, i wish i could share mine more easily, i want to, but i think the years have convinced me that it's dangerous, and that nobody wants it anyway. i do hope the years are wrong.
a couple weeks ago i had started a pretty large arty project, and it had a specific purpose, and shit happened, and the reason i wanted to finish it turned from a purely giving "hey i made a thing for you" to a very spiteful "hey i made a thing and now you can't have it." and right about the time that switch happened, i fucked up the piece. irreparably. because making pretty things into petty things never works. after the fuckup, i kept working on it because i was bound and determined to finish, because spite
! and also because i wasn't ready to stop. yesterday i threw it away.
and today i'm remaking it. because it was a damn good idea and the idea deserves another chance. but today i'm remaking it for me.
this fits in that line of thinking too, trust me - i don't think that right in the midst of sexy funtimes is a good time to be thinking of bill murray, but ... ok, i'd best back up a bit. when i started taking the hormonal treatment for endo, my body reactions got a bit wonky, and when i stopped taking the 'mones, instead of going back to how things were, it all jumbled up again in new and different ways. one of the most noticeable effects is orgasming. rather, not orgasming. it just doesn't work the way it used to. not to say it doesn't happen, but it's different, and getting there is a whole 'nother journey. it's like, hmmm.. i don't know what it's like. it's like all of a sudden, your favorite ice cream tastes like cheese. and cheese is good and all, but it's not ice cream and no matter how much you eat, or how much you tell yourself that cheese is indeed an acceptable substitute, it won't sate the ice cream appetite.
all the things i thought my body reacted well to are kinda moot now and i know that finding new things should be a fun adventure, but it's kind of frustrating because when muscle memory kicks in and things that should work don't it's hard not to be all "dang." but! then suddenly bill murray popped into my head. it just doesn't matter! it just doesn't matter!
and that turned out to be a good thing.
however, that can't be a mantra that's ever said out loud.
i'm really fucking tired of eggshells. i'm tired of not saying things for fear of making people uncomfortable, and i'm especially tired of people not saying things to me. so i'm declaring eggshell amnesty. you want to say something? ask something? tell something? please, do it. it will be a gift, from you to me, to do so - even if it seems hard or hurtful. but doubly so if its thoughtful. i'd rather have the words than the uncertainty. comments are screened on this post. fair warning, i'm going to do my best to bring this out in person, too. bring it. because i want it, and most of all, because i can take it.
time to do the laundry. the pants i want to wear to the wedding are actually pajamas and they need a little picker-upper.