done on Saturday

Trash down
move all living room furniture
vacuum front area
put folding tables away
dishes (four sinks)
water plants w/plant food
take bins down from shelf
organize bins (incomplete)
grocery list
grocery shop
;)  behind her book

(no subject)

Crunch isn't a sound that is associated with cherries. They do crunch, though. It's not grandiose, the way an apple's crunch is... your mouth wide, an echo chamber for the sound of your incisors sinking in, the insides of your lips pressed against the skin to catch any stray trickle of juice released by the pressure of your bite. No, the cherry's skin is softer, but still firm enough, taut and full of juice. It cannot withstand the slow pressure of your molars, a cautious crush designed to avoid the pits. Inside your closed mouth, the skin parts suddenly; resistance shifts to yielding with a tiny crunch, a small, intimate sound that is unheard outside of your head. As the flesh is compressed, the juice is released against your tongue, tart and sweet and cool.

(no subject)

My sleep pattern used to include frequent patches of a few days at a time where I would dream, sharp compelling visions that I would often be driven to record. For months now, I've been having dreams for weeks on end, with only a few days here and there that I don't wake up with the tail end of some story, often disturbing, but not vivid enough to record before it fades.

This morning I awoke from one where I'd been spending time at a synagogue (never been in one in my life) to use the phone (?) and befriended an old man, who collapsed while we were walking around inside the building, talking, and I had to call for help. Paramedics had to come and revive him, and they told me he was in bad shape, so I went and got one of the wheelchairs that the synagogue had available, and I pushed him home. Later, I noticed my arms had tanned from the walk in the sun.

To someone outside my brain, this probably doesn't read too differently from any dream description I've ever posted, but for me, it's thin and frustrating. Usually there's a ton of detail that I'm trying to capture even as it fades, a rich but vaporous embroidery. With the dreams I've been having, the depth just isn't there. There is frequently a lost beginning to the sleep stories my brain would spin, but I know that the part before this that was only barely there by the time I woke was just as thin.

It's clear what's happening here: my unconscious is going hack writer. I anticipate some dark and stormy nights.
:D  this is a right thing

shiny happy polymorphism

It's kind of a shock, but I'm fine, post-breakup. I mean, really really fine. This sounds like the kind of crap people tell themselves at times like these, when they are not actually fine at all, but seriously, there are a few things I do over time to gauge my overness of a thing, some standards that are reliable about me after an emotional upset - kind of like an emotional version of creatinine level - and all the indicators are saying I'm done. I also had quite the lovely day today, with no descents into sadness or asking why. That would not be normal for me if I were still hurting; I would still be having down moments during even a good day. I even actively tried to feel the same way I did two days ago, and I can't. I'd be able to put myself back into that headspace if I was still hurting, or if I still thought it was a valid way to feel, but I've discarded it as unrealistic, and it's no longer accessible to me other than as a memory.

I feel almost monstrous for feeling fine so quickly, but really, I'm not one to stay down long in any situation, and it was such a short relationship, with so much of it spent in a confusing limbo, that intellectually I do understand why I could let it go this easily. I also don't feel I was really "done wrong by" as I have been at times when I grieved and ached for a longer time. I'm not saying it didn't suck - it completely sucked - but it was just a series of dumbheaded moves, kind of like how I ended up with a closeted gay boyfriend back in college. All you can do is say, "I had to kill Bob Morton because he made a mistake. Now it's time to erase that mistake," and then go watch Robocop, because damn, I love that movie.

I learned some things from this short-lived relationship, so I don't want to erase it. I also successfully used some things I learned from previous relationships, and that I find awesome. I'm doing well and feeling fine. I guess the ritual thing I mentioned reflected some good instincts, or something. The experience has even got me writing, though I don't know how long that will last. In any case, it's a great day!


I've never been much of a one for rituals. Sure, I have patterns, but they don't have meaning for me, and changing them doesn't bother me. In the mornings, I wash so that I'm clean, I dress so that I'm not naked. Even the compulsions I feel are irregular.

Humans need ritual sometimes, though, we've built it into our psyches over eons. I think that's a lot of why religion still holds the sway that it does with as many as it does, because it gives people a latticework to support rituals of thought as well as action. I'm beyond religion but not that need for ritual, or at least that's what I'm looking to as the reason my actions over the last day keep assigning themselves meaning.

I joked with Mom about eating ice cream, but I've never done it, or any of the other things one does after a relationship ends. Somehow, though, everything feels portentious today: the IUD, both the freedom it'll give me and the pain it's giving me now; the heating pad and Motrin and (sugar free) chocolate; the devouring of the polish sausage (the meaning of THAT one is hilarious, sorry dudes); the song I have on repeat; the new color of nail polish, the showers, the haircut. Oh, yeah, the haircut:


It's short, yeah? I don't remember the last time it was above my chin. It was longer to start with, as well (shoulda taken a before pic, oh well.), so the length I cut off was a lot more than I have in quite some time. Here's the thing: sure, I was wowed by the power of cutting my own hair... the first time I did it, in 1992. The thrill wore off after a year or so at the most, and it was just another thing I did. And yet, and yet, the way those hanks felt when I held them today was different, in a way that hasn't happened for about two decades, and it was not just because they were long enough to hang down from either end of my closed hand.

So, I'm baffled. This isn't even very bad, as breakups go. I did not get to the point of needing him; what I'm losing is what I want. It hurts, but it's completely amicable. We'll get over it and be the friends we oughtn't to have been more than. By this morning, I was mostly done with howling my anguish at the walls of my empty rooms. I'm even mostly done with the talking it out part; it's already getting truncated into an unemotional tale, which is how I tell when I'm over things. So why is my brain producing mumbo jumbo now?

The only thing I can think is that it is precisely because this IS easy. There was no conflict, nothing to grind me down into exhaustion. There wasn't any length of time that I allowed more than I should. I gave what I could, and then when the mismatch between what was said and what was happening grew too wide for me to bear, I spoke up and changed the terms. In fact, I did so three times. In previous relationships, in this same situation, I bent over backward and let things go on in a horrid screech of cognitive dissonance until I was so upset that I wasn't really able to have a reasonable discourse, so I have the benefit here of seeing that I did learn something. With all those benefits, maybe my brain is looking for a good way to bring me up sharp after the aforementioned howling is done.

I kind of like the idea of having a plan for the next breakup. I think I will replace the IUD with ice cream, though.

what's up with this week?

Thursday I had a doctor's appointment, got my prescription, started taking it immediately.

Stayed home that day and Friday due to the adjustment to the side effects.

Stayed home from an actual outing with humans on Saturday because I was still sick from my drug. Started my period as well.

Sunday, nausea was finally starting to pass. In the morning, I cleaned to the point where I was willing to let Mom in the house when she arrived around 2. She helped me pick an interview outfit, and then took me to shop for shoes. It was hideous in a perfectly-acceptable-to-outside-eyes kind of way, but there are two boxes in the car with shoes in them, so technically that was a success. I can't even remember the last time I felt that way with Mom, and back in the day that would have described much of our time together, so that part is an unmitigated success.

Monday was breakup day. In retrospect, it's been a long time coming - relatively speaking, the time was anything but long, but the downswing was fully half the length of the relationship as a whole. I did not realize this right away, as it was not clear on a surface level, so I had to figure out what was happening, retroactively. What's weird is that it was really heady and sweet there for a bit, but less than a day after the end I find I'm wanting to just not count it at all, kind of like the way that one factory job I had for six weeks in 2009 is not on my résumé. If I was the type to spend energy on embarrassment, this episode might be a good candidate. I keep hearing Rimmer saying, "There's been a giant administrative cockup." That appears to be the best explanation for how the relationship came to be in the first place, and while great things have been built on less, that isn't happening this time. It's a totally amicable ending, I anticipate being fine in very short order. Just the way I feel in writing this description tells me that.

Tomorrow, different doctor, getting an IUD. Feels weird the day after a breakup, but it was honestly a long-term decision that is not really changed by what happened today, and with what's happening in this country politically it seems prudent to never ever ever get accidentally pregnant ever ever EVER. Not that it normally looked like a good idea, you understand.

Thursday I have a second interview for a different position at work. I'm nervy as hell, not helped by the fact that nobody I know from previous classes had two interviews. I will hope for myself that it means something good.

I only planned half of these things and it was already a pretty packed 8 days. Seriously, I'm exhausted.

resolution, nailed

I like nail polish, a lot. It's one of the few things in the makeup aisle for which I have any patience. What's not to like? There is an abundance of colors available, including a whole palette of purples alone. There are sparklies, which meet my desire for shinies happily. Of all the possible vices on sale at Walgreens, they will last the longest for the price and not boost my blood sugar or be too salty, and when I use it, it lasts for a few days, and I don't feel uncomfortable or itchy the way I do with facepaint.

The only downside is that nail polish does take a lot of time, between buffing the nails, applying the polish, and sitting around without doing anything while it dries. I just don't think to take that time, and the upshot of this is that I've got a whole bunch of colors that I've never even worn. At my current rate, I have more than I will wear if I live to be 90. Then a few weeks ago, my friend Kimari was showing off her Muppet glitter polish, and I felt inspired to start doing mine again. The goal is to wear every shade at least once! I may even get rid of some, since I have some that may not be good any more - how would I know? The best way I can think of to do it is to write my impressions as I wear them. I'm not sure how long I'll be able to keep it up, but it's a New Year's resolutiony thing for me, so here goes. In January, I've worn three very different colors.

1. Scandalous from Revlon.

I bought this to wear the same day, to combat winter blues with its mix of big glitter mixed in with the superfine glitter you most often see in nail polish. It really worked! It made me very happy to be looking at purple shinies.

This was the best I could do for a good closeup (I figured out once I uploaded these pics that my phone was trying to focus on the paper in the background. Silly phone!). Look how huge the glitter is, seriously!
Revlon - Scandalous

This color held up amazingly, and the huge glitter was the eventual downfall. Several that had ended up near the tips of my nails came off, leaving me with hexagonal bare spaces, which is what led me to change colors.

2. Sinful Colors - Secret Admirer

I really like the Sinful Colors line; though I think the idea of colors BEING sinful is laughable, they have a great array of fun colors, and the polish has good staying power. This one is really striking - the base is actually black but it's got such a large amount of glitter in it that my eyes translate it as somewhere between gray and gunmetal, depending on the light.

The polish held up well to my day-to-day activities, though there was no heavy-duty cleaning against which to test it. It did chip eventually, after a few days, but it also took repair really well - a lot of colors look really obvious when you try to fill in a chip. I only took it off because I had an interview for a different position at work.

3. L'Oreal - Charmed, I'm Sure

I bought this one on Wednesday night. It should be the last one I purchase until I finish this project - no more new polish is part of the deal; I had decided that I should not buy any more after the Scandalous. I made this exception because I specifically wanted something to go with my interview outfit and didn't have any brown tones. This is a lot more, hm, mainstream a color than most of the ones I have. I tend to express all my bright color desires in nail polish and socks. I was looking for something to match a brown jumper, and the girl at Walgreens suggested this. I decided it was perfect. I bought mousse to control my bangs, too, which I may never use again. It was a weird shopping day for me.

That's the polish against the outfit. It goes really well with that brown, but it is such a pale pale brown that it can also be interpreted as pink. It really did what I wanted. It has also held up unreasonably well, not really beginning to chip until after handwashing dishes yesterday and today, and washing the whole kitchen floor by hand. Didn't use a basecoat on this one.


It's a nice mix this year of improvements, goals, and continuations of things I'm already doing.

Finish getting all my belongings to the condo (so close but did not make it this year).
Assess all possessions once they are finally all in one place.
Determine my real space needs for optimum happy living (do I ultimately want keep on having a house to myself? Do I really prefer apartments? Do I need to find something really unconventional?)
Continue private writing.
Restart public writing.
Move from customer service into tech group at work.
Keep moving away from plastic dishes. Go Pyrex!
Figure out with J where our relationship is going. Will I relocate? If I do, what kind of living arrangement will it be? Will I try to transfer my current job or find something new?
Get back into my old soup project.
Eat more home cooking.
Stop wasting food!
Continue with health self care, getting back where I was and then bettering that.
Continue with to do list.
Start volunteering again.

Happy New Year, y'all!

More thoughts:
Find the library in town and start using regularly.
start working with music in the background, especially multitasking, so I can listen to new music on a regular basis (I generally do not read or work with music in the background because I tend to focus on music when it is playing, so that's what I'm looking to end)
get out more
try every nail polish that I have bought