2015 Reading Goals

A book with more than 500 pages
A classic romance
A book that became a movie
A book published this year
A book with a number in the title - Five Quarters of the Orange
A book written by someone under 30
A book with nonhuman characters
A funny book
A book by a female author - I Am an Emotional Creature: The Secret Life of Girls Around the World
A mystery or thriller
A book with a one-word title - Southbound
A book of short stories
A book set in a different country
A nonfiction book
A popular author's first book
A book from an author you love that you haven't read - How to Build a Girl
A book a friend recommended - Shalimar the Clown
A Pulitzer Prize-winning book
A book based on a true story - The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks
A book at the bottom of your to-read list
A book your mom loves
A book that scares you- The Martian: A Novel
A book more than 100 years old
A book based entirely on its cover
A book you were supposed to read in school but didn't
A memoir
A book you can finish in a day
A book with antonyms in the title
A book set somewhere you've always wanted to visit
A book that came out the year you were born
A book with bad reviews
A trilogy
A book from your childhood
A book with a love triangle
A book set in the future
A book set in a high school
A book with a color in the title
A book that made you cry
A book with magic
A graphic novel
A book by an author you've never read before
A book you own but have never read
A book that takes place in your hometown
A book that was originally written in a different language
A book set during Christmas
A book written by an author with your same initials
A play
A banned book
A book based on or turned into a TV show
A book you started but never finished

Bad.

Bad. Bad, bad, bad.

Since January:

I completed another trip around the sun
Read approximately 14 books, including several I need to update on that challenge
Was awarded the opportunity to serve as pivotal staff for not one but two major SCA events in the future (Gleann Abhann 10th Year and Gulf Wars XXV)
Became the head coach for the Twin City Knockers
Served as announcer for a few other leagues and a tournament
Started dating a cool guy, then stopped because cool doesn't mean compatible
Sold my Scion
Bought a Ford
Attended at least 12 musical performances so far, but man, who can keep count?



2015 is totally my year. I'm just too busy to write about it!

Mondays are for recovery: An insane damn weekend.

Friday night: Dinner and a Movie
Dinner:  Abby Singer's Bistro
Movie: Whiplash

Dinner was great; rushed, because by the time our food was brought it was practically time to be finding our seats downstairs, but that wasn't really a fault of anything other than cutting it too close on the time.  We made the film in time, but ended up in the second row... fortunately, the Robinson Film Center's front rows are still good seats.

The Movie.... wasn't what I expected. It was great, but for some reason I was expecting a little less abuse and a little more "This One Time, at Band Camp...."

I have no idea why I was expecting that. That said, it was a seriously good movie.  A bit slow in places, but the plot development was strong and the score was spectacular.

Saturday Day:  Winter Wonders XXIX

SCA time!  Due to scheduling logistics I decided to just attend for the day, so I was up and driving by a bit after 7:00.  A lot of my day was spent just visiting with my favorite people; I had a meeting and that evening, the Order of the Pelican announced the induction of two pretty awesome people (to happen at a later date); I was happy to herald for Their Majesties and Duchess Onora was a horribly bad influence.  I heard that Feast was great, but I couldn't stick around...

Saturday Night: FIGHTS, The Rusty Shacklefords, Kill Matilda @ Hangar 21

Two bands I'd never heard before, and one that I love dearly!  It was going to be That Kind of Night... so my +1 and myself took a cab there, knowing we wouldn't want to drive home again at the end of the night.  Bonus, we discovered that Shreveport taxis are really cheap.

FIGHTS is a local band whose genre as per Facebook is "Punk/Indie/Post Hardcore."  I don't even know what Post-Hardcore is, but from the sounds of it it's what I have referred to, historically, as Cookie Monster music.

I like Cookie Monster music. Think about it- Cookie Monster in a band? What wouldn't be to love. I couldn't understand most of the lyrics but the musicians were solid good.

The Rusty Shacklefords are punk rock. Period.  They cover Fugazi and Black Flag and The Stooges and have several of their own tracks, including the pretty catchy "Mommy Got a Tramp Stamp" that got them on the 99X shitlist, which is an excellent place to be, in my opinion. This was their first gig back in a long time after a break, and even longer since Mike, the original guitarist, rejoined the lineup.  Ian Quiet, frontman of the Ian Quiet Band and also a soloist joined them for a couple songs, too, including playing synth on their cover of "I Wanna be Your Dog."

Kill Matilda is a band on a North American tour from Canada.  I'm not gonna lie... it had been a long day and I had had a few Vodka & Cranberries by this point.  They were excellent musicians and the lyrics I noted were good, albeit my recollection of their set is a little bit blurry.

Sunday:  ROAD TRIP!

The Quad State Derby Dames were hosting a mash-up bout with a Hunger Games theme. We started out the night with 23 skaters, and did a reaping on the spot to sort them into the Capitol VS the Mockingjays.  The Capitol was victorious, and calling the game was a lot of fun.  As the new coach for TCK, I was thrilled to see my skaters represented on both teams well, and they all held their own brilliantly, even the new girls.

NSOs, refs, and other volunteers

But I gotta back up.

First, Adam and I hit Chicken Express for some late-afternoon hangover recovery chicken.  Chicken Express is a largely Texas thing, and it's scarce.  They're locally owned/operated, and at the Texarkana branch, I saw something I'd never seen before:  Scripture on a food receipt. I don't mean "God Bless ya!" I mean a several-line long verse.  Unfortunately, I've lost my receipt, but a Twitter user named Coach Jacobs took a pic of his (slightly different verse, same receipt)....

Praise the Lord and pass the Chicken, ya'll.

2015 Firsts: First Wedding & First Concert

Saturday afternoon, I married my first couple of 2015!

Brandy and Shaun are both former coworkers of mine, so it was doubly cool- I recall when they started dating, about 4 years ago.  This was a small family wedding in the side room of a favorite restaurant of the family; proof that weddings need not be over-the-top to be special!  Brandy helped me write the ceremony and we included having Shaun's two children come forward to make their own vows to strive to maintain a healthy and loving family; I'll definitely be keeping that!

(No pictures included; the bride isn't a fan of cameras, so I know she'd not appreciate that!)

Sunday night was a treat, ya'll.

Victoria Williams has been a favorite songwriter of mine since the 90s.  That came about through the "Sweet Relief" album on which Soul Asylum covered her song "Summer of Drugs" - I'd bought the album specifically because I was (and still am) a huge fan of theirs. But the rest of the album was really good, and it inspired me to find some recordings of her actually playing her own music.  I knew she was from Shreveport, but she's lived in California for a long time, and I'd always hear about her having been in town 3 weeks after the fact.

So, Sunday night, the Fairfield House Concert Series hosted a show with her, and I made reservations within about 2 seconds of figuring that out. The opening act, Landon Miller, is the lead of a local band I've seen a few times named Engine.  While I will admit that the band's stylings aren't always what I crave, his solo act was great.  His voice is full of emotion and his short set was a great way to relax and get into the energy of the room.  There was a small break while the audience could sample offerings from Stone's Throw Cafe, and then Victoria took the stage.

Photo Credit: Cassie Chappell

Let's start with her touring band. The bassist and pianist are married, and the drummer also plays guitar on some pieces.  While the band started with a setlist, it soon turned into an "open request" sort of night, and songs got rearranged, and it was amazing and chaotic and soothing.  It was entertaining to note that the pianist would have really preferred to stay on-book, but she had a great attitude about it.

Victoria's voice is absolutely ethereal; in addition to the guitar, she also picked up a banjo, two harmonicas, and-- that awesome item to the right in the photo- a Japanese stringed machine similar to a zither.  Her set involved commentary between herself and the band, and a local fiddler- whose name I didn't catch, sadly- joined in for the second portion of the set and did a beautiful job of adding more depth to the performance, even on songs he didn't know before that night.

The set ran a little long... but was exceptional.  Her rendition of Opelousas (easily my favorite song of hers) was stirring, and creative, and off-book enough to not even remotely resemble Musician Karaoke.  There were singalong portions, Elvis covers, and a number of songs I'd never heard nor heard of, but they were soulful and sweet.

Out til 10 PM on a school night isn't preferred on a Sunday, but it was well worth being up a bit late to get to see.  2015 is off to a great start!

Screw it. Time to put down some roots.

Lots has happened.

I sold a house. Turned 35. Bought a house. My father passed away... there's been family drama, and mourning, and sadness and some words that can't be taken back. I had a surgery. I got depressed and spent a lot of time sleeping, gained some weight, and relied way too much on friends to keep me afloat and remind me to eat.

The entire month of March, and part of April is a complete fog.  I know that things happened and I have some recollection of bits, but for the most part, I retained not much and I don't really think that's a bad thing. 

Today, though... today is May 1.  I don't find particular relevance in Beltane, normally, but I do get that it's the time for rebirth and renewal and fertility and new shit, and I guess I'm at a good place to try to grab onto that, even if it's just seasonally appropriate and not particularly spiritually infused.

This garden is imperfect. There's not a square corner to it (nor is it square to the house).  It's sturdy, and strong, and soon it will have the first part of my spring garden situated in it's walls, just as soon as I get more dirt and peat moss into it and level it out.  It ain't pretty but it will be useful, and I did it entirely on my own, and I find some value in that, even if it's in having done it somewhat wrong.  

The wine tree behind it was a gift from a family who loves me- it got planted last night, too.  I'm looking forward to watching it's blooms.  Hell, I heard rumor that a blue flower might be blooming on it today.

Roots, ya'll.

January Wrapup....

Funeral Services: 2
Live shows enjoyed: 4
Pounds lost: 19.8
SCA Events stewarded: 1
Houses sold: 1
Time spent reading: avg of 22 minutes per day
Time spent creating art: avg of 18 minutes per day

On 2/1, I moved out of my house.

On 2/2, I met the house I want to move into next.

A whirlwind weekend of music and art, a roadtrip, and a bicycle (Shows 1-3 of 2014).

The first weekend of 2014 brought me....

A late night Friday. The Ian Quiet Band was hitting the stage at AMP at Mojo's, which is a no-cover-charge, Jam-as-you-like musician's session thing.  The talent there has been great the few times I've hit it.  To hone their set for Saturday in Monroe, IQB did 4 songs as part of the showcase.  Coconut Donut, With or Without You, Mommy Got a Tramp Stamp, and.... oh. Something else. I cannot remember what the first song was!  They sounded great.  The other artists sounded great. We left when the very talented Blues guitarist who went up a few sets later was doing a great job of rocking us to sleep with his smooth riffs... very good, but we weren't ready to sleep yet!  So, we headed to The Boot.

Now, I'm not going to claim practices that I can't, but I was taking it very easy on the alcohol. I had two beers early in the evening, then was nursing water for the rest of the evening.  The Boot is not a bar that I've ever enjoyed soberly at 2 AM.  The Boot is also my Case-in-Point example for my belief that nothing good ever happens past 2 AM in Downtown Shreveport.  However, I was enjoying time out with wonderful people, and it was too early for the night to end.  We watched some horrendous karaoke and I watched a friend exercise a Machiavellian approach to flirting that was pretty damn adorable.  I wanted to stick around to hear Katrina and Ian belt out "Just a Girl" but I had to get myself to bed.

An Early Saturday. Well, I went to bed around 3:30, so 9:00 FELT early!  I fed myself a good breakfast then took out for a ride.  I wrecked my bike on the first and banged myself up a bit, but got the broken parts repaired pretty easily, so I didn't want to not ride on such a pretty day.  I logged 8 miles.  Highland is aptly named.... fucking hills. HILLS. Everywhere.  My ride took me into downtown, along Clyde Fant, and then back towards home via the neighborhoods around Shreveport-Barksdale.  It was a meandering route with no real intention other than to ride.  Came home, did a bit of sewing, and took a nap to prepare myself for...

A Late Night Saturday.  I checked out Ian's solo show at the Karpele's Manuscript Museum.  Now... as a museum, I'm not impressed with their current collection. I went to see it last weekend with a friend who was in town, and it was a little underwhelming. As a cool old converted church, though, it's tops.  The acoustics are great, and his show was good though it's my opinion that the audience didn't know whether to behave as though we were at church, or at a concert.  The crowd response was very muted and I think that the ambience turned everyone more introspective than a normal show would have caused.  They did a screening of The Hummingbird, a film starring Ian from the Louisiana Film Prize competition last year, and I really enjoyed it though I was expecting something FAR happier and lighter, for some reason.  Then he played a few songs on the pipe organ, and that was amazing.  More of that, please!
I then stepped in and acted as his Road Manager to get his adoring fanbase held at bay because we were on a mission.  We took off to meet the rest of the band, got everyone into cars, and headed to Sal's Saloon in Monroe (with a brief stop to pay homage to the Duck Commander Headquarters, because exercising free speech is important to us, too).

That's an album cover if ever there was one...

The show KILLED.  The introduction of a theramin to some of their songs was great, and well-placed.  The vocals were clear and powerful.  I can't tell you the setlist, but it was excellent, and was also laid down on a recording by the Very Friendly Sound Guy.  Prestor John was also a super-treat to see, and their set was likewise, stellar.  The 3rd band, Mailbomber... well, not my speed. Good, but not what I was in the mood for.  We took off, hit a What-a-Burger (best grilled cheese sandwich of my life, I swear), and I made it into my bed at 4:30 AM.  A car full of drunk people made the right home quite entertaining, and it passed quickly.

And then...

Seriously, Sunday morning?  9 AM?  9?????  No. Too early.  But, I was awake and the boycats wanted breakfast.  I had the great ambition of riding to the Line Avenue Brookshire's, but by the time I made it to King's had determined that I was just not going to get warm enough. I went to that Brookshire's instead, and only rode about 3 miles, round trip.  I took a nap. I sewed, and got my loom warped, and I spent the evening with friends all engaged in crafts in my tiny apartment listening to what James called the "Best of Roller Rink Music: 90s mix."  I wrapped up the night with a sweet cozy cat pile and a book before a solid night's sleep.

If all of the weekends of 2014 could be just like this one, I would not complain.

Still here.

Upon discovering that Tony Perkins is now going to be involved with the Louisiana Law Enforcement Commission, the girls and I took a moment to figure out where we should move to.

California seems to be winning.

Words for the sake of words.

So, I'm searching for something totally legit and completely work related earlier, and this happened:

And I thought to myself "damn, it's a shame I don't blog anymore, because I could find something deep and meaningful and funny to say about why America is fat."

And then Krak and I discussed that clearly, after your half pound of weed you'd WANT a half pound burger on a buttered cake bun, because you're fat and high (and it's obviously been long enough since college that neither of us remember that you'd actually be trying to con people into making you ramen, not getting ambitious and baking or cooking)...

And then I gave myself a guilt trip, and here we are, putting something into text and publishing just in hopes that perhaps that action triggers the muscle memory of loving to blog, and maybe then tomorrow or the next day there will be things worth reading.

It is not that I do not have things to say.  I have ALL the things to say.  I'm just maybe not ready to say them just yet.

Don't get me wrong. Nothing particularly catastrophic or deep is going on.  I'm trying to sell my house and have un-hoarded approximately 1/4-1/3 of my possessions, and I do not miss one of them.  For anybody keeping score, though, that now means that if I move into a smaller place than my current 4 bedroom home, I'm still possibly going to have "too much."

I've moved to Shreveport, to a tiny and cozy apartment that will serve as my transitional home between the house to sell and the next one to buy. Once I'm done futzing around in Benton to actually get the place listed and that turns into a matter of "keep it dusted, pay the lawn guy," I'm going to have so much more free time, and I'm going to love it.  I do not love it yet.  Currently, I feel like I'm living through the biggest, time-eatingest, pain-in-the-assiest project OF MY LIFE.

I'm also coming to terms with the notion that "derby girl" is less of a "what I am" and more of a "what I was", though I'm enjoying being a coach, an announcer, and I'm aspiring to ref.  It's just that the whole PCL/MCL thing going on my leg is maybe not ever going to be up to full contact again unless I want a surgery, and I don't.

And maybe one day I'll talk about those things.  Here's hoping.

The Dalai Lama; Musical Events # 19-21; A Very Long Nap.

A quick glance at my Google Calendar tells me that I REALLY dropped the ball on updating the whosits and whatsits of where I've been and what I've been doing.

Oops.

Last weekend, Krak, Nate and I headed to NOLA for two days of public talks by the Dalai Lama.  For the most part I left the phone ignored so I could try to be present in the moment, and for the most part, it worked.  I did not get dozens of blurry photos of maroon robe and shiny bald head, but I don't think anybody is sad about that.  I did get a wall hanging from the Drepung Monks which I have yet to get put up in my office.  Aside from the talks, the weekend featured some DAMN fine food and friends and a lesson in learning the New Orleans Transit System as we decided to stay on the West Bank and take busses/streetcars to get around.

Salt N Pepper - I'm pretty sure this is a converted convenience store.  We had some AMAZING Indian food.  Nate ordered the Chicken Masala and the sauce was toe-curlingly good.  I had a religious experience with some goat (not A goat, which would be an entirely different situation).  I do not remember what Krak ordered but it was delish as well.  They also feature gyros and pizza, which we did not try.

So, that was the pre-Dalai Lama meal on Friday.  Then there was the talk, the navigating of the bus lines back to our hotel on the West Bank.  Shower. Nap. Sent Nate and Krak out on supersexy date night and got myself ready to go out with a great friend who first took me to Jagerhaus and then to ALL the fun Quarter places, including the Carousel for random drink roulette and Fat Cats(?) for a band and dancing and beverages and it was nice. The band was fun. No clue what their name was, actually, but they were enjoyable and we were there for several songs, so they make up #19 on this year's list --- Random New Orleans House Bar.
Home again for a 4-day work week, and then....

#20

Black Flag/ Good For You/ Mind Spiders

Shit, kids. I was NOT prepared for this.

So, I went into this tired. Didn't sleep Thursday night, loaded into the car with Misti, Eric, and Zakk (three of the 4 Rusty Shacklefords), drank ALL the caffeine and wore not the smartest boots.  Despite feeling like we were "running late" we weren't. We got to the venue in time to get in, buy merch, have a beer, and leisurely wait for the Mind Spiders to take the stage.  We established our spots on the railing and enjoyed their show.  They clearly had a local following present and they were good but I can't remember anything that especially stood out.  

Good For You is- and I didn't know this going in- the same exact lineup as Black Flag with the exception of Mike Vallely as lead vocalist instead of Chavo.  Also, Greg Ginn plays a theremin as well as the guitar, and now I want a theremin.  I'd not heard a peep of Good For You but of the three acts, they were my favorite.  Really awesome energy, strong lyrics, and a motherfucking theremin.

So, there's then a long intermission and Black Flag takes the stage, and the shit promptly got real.  I am used to frenzied concert crowds but sweet Jesus, I do not think I've ever dealt with a band with such a HUGE devoted following.  I got very claustrophobic very quickly and was about to hit the wall of "THIS IS NOT FUN", but thanks to the location we were at, was able to kind of sneak behind the stage barrier just a bit.  Fortunately, security was unconcerned-- they were busy paying attention to the crowd surfers and mosh pit.

OH HAI THERE!

This was an excellent place to be.

---

So, that was awesome, once the "people touching me" thing was resolved.  The ride home was not friendly on any of us; I pulled into my driveway at 4 AM Saturday morning and was doing good to get my shoes off before passing out.

#21- The Second Annual This Won't Suck

Got up and out of the house by 11 Saturday morning and thought that really did kind of suck, a lot, but I wanted to see the opening act, Das Pretzels, as they came from Zwolle and I felt like I should support the hometown boys.  Had the brilliant presence of mind to take a cooler and a case of water, which was pretty much the only thing that kept me from just falling down dead.  

Das Pretzels was good.  Prestor John's all acoustic "guitar and djimbe" set was AWESOME.  Summit Falls, whom I'd never heard of was also really great.  The two touring bands, Blanket of M and End Hits, were both really tight and the End Hits guys were SUPER nice, too.  Zakk and Sam as "The Regular Jerkoffs" were great and talented and fun and did the longest ode to a blanket I'd ever heard.  Goutbrake was as interesting as ever.  Bland and The Bipolaroids were both good but not my speed, exactly, and both of the Rusty Shax sets were awesome.  My ONLY sadness was that the rain ended up hitting about a song and a half into Social Bliss, which are currently high on my list of favorites, and then Midnight Tiger didn't get to play at all.

SO, I ended up limping into my bed around 11:30 that night, and stayed there until 12 hours later, when I had to get up and get human so that I could head to Monroe to run the scoreboard for a scrimmage bout.  I have feelings about that (the bout, not the scoreboard), but they're not ready to come out, just yet.

All in all, an absolutely perfect couple of weekends that reminded me that while I am not 20 anymore, 20 was not NEARLY as much fun as 34 is.

And now we're caught up!

Hard Shit: Still Hard.

Last weekend, I went to New Orleans with some beloved friends to see the Dalai Lama.  Have you ever been in a room of thousands and felt calm and at peace?  I hadn't. I did. It was amazing.  I'd like to say that I emerged from the weekend at one with my inner ZenMistress, but.... no.

I got some cool mental and emotional tools. I learned some neat stuff.  I let myself relax and enjoy the moment and be present, and was able to not worry about the little things that I normally fixate on, like checking the messages on my phone to make sure nobody NEEDED anything.  I spent a few hours for a few days not thinking about who was looking or judging or seeing or doing, just on my own being.  Pretty cool.  I got to have an absolutely perfect evening out with a great friend, and it was good.  Checking out for the weekend, whether in the context of a spiritual zen trip or just in general, was needed.  My edges were getting frayed, and they got a bit smoothed by the getaway.

Upon my return to The Real World, I am more in touch with the reality that I'm not exactly doing ok.  There are certain benchmarks that I keep an eye on of things that are in-check when I am happy and in a good place, mentally.  Things like making my bed every morning, putting my laundry away quickly, not eating junk.  Well, for the most part I am not eating junk but I'm letting other things slip, or I find myself half-assing them.  I have TIME to do things, but I find myself curling up with a cat and a book because that feels like what my body and mind want to be doing, and I don't have the willpower to say "fuck you, body.  Your ass CAN go do some damn packing."  I don't wanna.  Can't make me.

I feel like I am not keeping up with my "to do" list, and that is demoralizing, but at the same time I do not regret that I have been prioritizing people over things lately.  I've gotten to spend time with awesome people and start working on some great projects.  Surely important, but now I'm caught in the struggle between trying to rationalize my Grasshopper vs. Ant attitudes.  I have had a headache since Sunday.  I've got no energy.  I give my energy to social endeavors and have none left for the boring tedious shit I need to do. It's a problem.

So, clearly, "Do what I want to do" isn't working out so well. I'm finding myself feeling guilty, and I'm not making as much progress as I need and want to toward getting ready to sell my house- as in, absolutely no progress this week.  I'm hoping to use the upcoming weekend as a reset and start scheduling my days a little more strictly.  I'll leave time for social things and fun things and curling up with my cat and my book, but I need to treat some of my necessary projects with the same gravity as a work schedule, I guess.

I just want a nap, first.

Whack-A-Mole: Neurotic Edition

Last weekend was rough, ya'll.

It was not without happy moments, to be sure.  I had some of those, to be sure, but I also fell into a pretty ugly cycle of negative thoughts.

* I don't want to be doing this.
* Nobody likes me.
* I am a failure because my knee is injured.
* I am shit with time and money management.
* My taste in music sucks.
* My taste in entertainment sucks.
* My taste in clothing, which I look horrible in, also sucks.

Sometime around Sunday, I got out of the funk.  The ennui, it happens.

You are beautiful, flower. I WILL EAT YOU.

This week has also been rough:

Monday:  Personal conflict and some hurty conversations.
Tuesday:  More hurty conversations, but also some great ones.
Wednesday: Had super fun plans go awry. End result - not super fun, felt rejected, got pissy.
Thursday: Information on the medical front that left me feeling really fragile and upset.  BUT I also had a very good evening despite that.
Friday: COME AT ME, BRO.  Like, seriously. What you got?

So far, I'm not super happy with today, but I am making a concerted effort to be happy with myself despite the fact that not all the circumstances are fun, that sometimes painful things have to happen, and that not all of the people are capable of giving me all of the attention all of the time.

Here's the good part: When I remember not to give up on it, all this "think yourself happy" practice I've been trying to engage in is really working for me.  For all that shitty stuff up there, I have got so many good things to counter.

* I am already getting stronger with my new PT regimen... and my ass is looking amazing.
* At least 3 different people have told me that they love me every single day this week (some overlap from day to day, of course).
* I made 3 new friends this week, and I think they're all keepers.
* I accepted two invites for things to do this weekend, and had to decline 4.
* I have made time, despite being busy and sometimes sad, to take care of myself properly.  I'm eating super clean, getting my long baths and my book time, and cuddling the kitties as much as they want.
* After reviewing my budget, I realized that I'm actually awesome with money, and that medical bills are expensive, and it's going to be ok.  I'm not being a jackass and my expenditures are really quite conservative.
*Tomorrow marks 100 days since I was a smoker. Confession- I did steal a couple of drags from Misti on two occasions. They were awful... but that's the extent of the backsliding.
* In a week, I get to see the Dalai Lama, and in two weeks, it's Black Flag.


It's gonna be OK. Hell, it IS OK, it's just the kind of OK that needs a little extra work.

A Hard-Reset Monday.

On Monday, I got solid confirmation from my ortho that per my physical examination and my MRI results, my PCL in my right knee is in bad shape.  The conservative approach is 2.5 months of SERIOUS PT.  Not "kinda do some stuff" PT-- rather, I've been prescribed a 5-day per week workout regimen to strengthen the leg, get it up to the same strength as the other one, and maybe see about circumventing surgical necessity.

Well, "necessity" is a bad word.  If I just wanted to live a normal, sedentary life, I'd probably be ok. The problem is that I do NOT. I want to keep skating, or at least, being active on a regular basis. I want to continue getting MORE fit, not staying at the same level I am at or degrading in that.  And if I had a different situation right now I may have agreed to the consult... but I can't. I live an hour away from work, and carpooling is not currently an option. I can't be right-leg-less for the 6-8 weeks that I'd be on crutches and immobilized.  It is just not an option today, so all I can do is anything else, which is hard.

I agreed to hang up my skates until my followup in the middle of July, and that broke my heart, but I have a good plan. I am really afraid that this plan may not be good enough, though, and my ortho strongly indicated that without surgery I may not have the opportunity to return to the flat track, but he conceded that we can look at it a little later and see.  First, there's a lot of work.

About 2 hours after that appointment, I got confirmation that the friend who has been trying to work out his financial plan to purchase my house is just not going to be able to do that at this time... and so if I do want to sell it and move into town, it's going to have to go on the market.  I have a good list of the things I need to accomplish to do that.  I need to get about 50% of my possessions out of it, firstly.  Then I need to do some prettification and resign myself to strangers poking around my home. I may need to temporarily re-home my cats, which I'm not excited about at all.  It may be that I end up storing most of my things and, when the time comes to listing it, move into a small apartment for a short while which is a new level of scary all to itself.  I don't know...but I know that first, there's a lot of work.

How do you move them? One at a time.

SO, it looks like the prevailing theme of my summer is going to be "Do Work, Son."  I'm going to have to change some plans to re-route some time and finances, but I can do that. I'm going to have to write lists, and hold myself accountable, and I can do that, too.  I'm going to have to be honest about what I need and what I like and what I've just been hanging onto because it is convenient, and I'm not just talking about my clutter but also things like mentality and drive and excuses.


The only thing left to do now is write the playlist and get to work.

90 seconds of absolute batshit crazy

Scene:  A Sonic Drive-In Restaurant, approximately 9:00 on a week night.  Our heroine is patiently awaiting delivery of a magical Diet Cherry Limeaide (extra cherries, please) after Roller Derby practice.  As is fit, she is sweaty. She is wearing an ensemble consisting of bicycle shorts, a teal T-shirt reading "Bitches Be Trippin'", a purple bandana on her head... and pink KT Tape decorates her knee. Her socks feature C3P0.

In the next car-stall, an older woman is piloting a large black pick-em-up truck whilst maintaining a solid grasp on the chili dog in her right hand.  She hits the menu post with her headlight, and rather than stopping and realigning tests the boundaries of physics to see if her F950 (est) can win the battle. It can, but at the cost of her headlight shielding, headlight, and a portion of chrome plating, all of which shatter upon the ground, glistening in the security light and menu glare.

Then shit got real.

Ok, so seriously? This woman (whom I hate for her actions, not for her chili dog) is all like, just going on away, leaving the car debris. So I call out of my window "You forgot part of your truck!"  Because I am HELPFUL, you know.  So she stops her truck behind me and rolls down the window and says "Oh, it's ok! It's just my headlight!"

OH BUT NO.

So I leap from my car and grab a shard of displaced plastic from where it bounced off of my car and I waved it at her.  "This was under my tire."

She sits there....and takes a bite of her motherfucking chili dog while examining the glistening shard in my hand.

So I proceed to pick up all the bits and pieces and chunks of Made-in-the-USA-Pickup-Truck, WHILST carrying on an improv monologue on how SOME PEOPLE just leave their trash lying around to puncture tires and ruin nice evenings and SOME PEOPLE could get out of their damn trucks... and I carried them over to her.  At which point she quickly handed off her chili dog to the passenger, which is a damn fine thing because had her hands not been free, she'd have been catching shattered plastic bits in her lap, and probably, that damn chili dog.

She did say thank you, though. I'm not sure if she was grateful because I gave her back her headlight or because I did not punch her in the throat, because I suspect that my appearance was pretty damn frightening... that lighting is never complimentary in those parking lots, you know.

Scene:  The carhop arrives with a Diet Cherry Limeaide and a perplexed expression on her face.  Was the confusion because the patron was out of the car or because the menu one stall over was askew, unlit, and scratched to hell and beyond?  Who knows.  Our Heroine was happy to point out that the black pick-em-up truck was getting on about their hitting and running now that their trash had been dealt with.  And then there was Diet Cherry Limeaide, and all was good.

---End Scene---

This post not sponsored or endorsed by Sonic Restaurants.

Untitled, and I'm ok with that.

"Fake it 'til ya make it" has made me a much happier person.  Really- IT WORKS!  Want some soundbites? GOT THEM.  "Happiness is a choice." TRUE.  "People are just as happy as they make up their minds to be." I believe it.  Parrot that stuff repeatedly to yourself or whomever will listen and eventually, you will start to mean it, you'll believe it, and you will be happier than you used to be.

Sometimes, though, a girl just needs a good wallow (or "waller," in the proper dialect of my homeland).  Yesterday the entire universe aligned properly to give me the Perfect Storm for a 100% Legit, No-Holds-Barred angstfest.  How so?

• Jury Duty!  You can go home after sitting in the room of bodies with warring perfumes just long enough to get a killer headache, but you have to call in every day until we tell you not to to see if you have to come back.  insider tip: my schedule being up in the air freaks me the hell out.
• Clashing with a friend!  It happens. Friends have to work their shit out sometimes, and it's ok.  Timing is what timing is... and God knows, it's never a convenient time to have a Situation.
• HORMONES.  Just....yeah. Fuck you, kitten. Why are you looking at me?
• TIME TO CRY! Practice was tough last night, and in my crummy mindset it felt like it was a series of tailor-made drills designed to specifically exploit my weaknesses. It wasn't, and I know that, and I knew that then, but I still made special time to have a meltdown... and may have scarred the Coach for life.
• Guess who's not ready for Gulf Wars? THIS GIRL! Seriously, I leave on Friday for 5 days of camping, and I'm SO not prepared.

So, is it better today? Nope. I still have a residual pity-party hangover, but as of noon today, I am going to be actively forcing myself to put it in check as I spot it.    

Wednesday Night's Fight Club Moment

"Don't deal with this the way those dead people do. Deal with it the way a living person does." -- Tyler Durden

Ok, so maybe that's a TOUCH melodramatic, but last night I learned two valuable lessons:

1) My body did not fully heal in 2 weeks from the tattoo.  The area had the appearance of healing, but was still quite tender.

2) Shading needles hurt like a mother when there's no endorphin rush leading into it.

This makes me so. damn. happy.  5 hours, all told, and 5 hours of my life I am happy to have sacrificed towards decorating the temple that is my body with something that I don't think I'll ever possibly regret.

Next time, though, I might decide to find spiritual resonance with something a little bit smaller...

Didn't even have to use my AK...

TCK's first bout of the season- an away bout in Mandeville, LA, was a wonderful success.  We won, but I'm mostly happy about the way that we actually worked together as a cohesive team in regards to strategy and smart game play.  We made some progress in this direction towards the last part of last season, but two months of really focusing on these details in addition to all the other things at practice really did pay off. 

There is always more work to do, though, and I'm excited to see what comes next.

Cards Against Humanity will be going with me to every single bout for the rest of my life.

It was, indeed, a good day.

--

I'm somewhere at the end of a month of being a really-truly nonsmoker. I've gotten to that shitty point where I don't like how I smell when I leave a bar.  The upside is that it's also the point where the flowers in my office make the place smell amazing, so there's always a bright side.

Gluten free-vegetarian is not nearly as dramatic or difficult as I expected.  I don't wanna try vegan- I love my eggs and cheese- but I'm feeling amazing.  I miss fish, though.  Fish may be coming back at the end of Lent.  My GF trial is technically over on my birthday later this month, but I think I may keep it.  On Feb 1 my Glomular Filtration Rate (indication of renal function) had improved by 2%.  That could be because of the GF, or because of any number of variables, but I don't miss wheat and I've figured out that by packing a bag like a toddler's mother would do, the inconvenience factor is pretty low.

--

Don't trouble trouble, right?  I've identified that my presence on OKCupid was just adding to my stress level.  I don't want to be a bitch, but the volume of illiterate and/or married men contacting me were starting to not only piss me off but also shade my self perception.  I've always felt that dating profiles that present with a laundry list of "Do not contact me IF:" items came off as horribly negative, but I was starting to see the appeal.  So... I've killed that shit and set my account to disabled. Maybe for a week, maybe forever. Who knows?  I feel better, and I'm not experiencing anxiety when I see "DoucheBag8478 sent you a message!" in my email or on my phone.

"To change and to change for the better are two different things."

I skipped observing Lent last year.  I think I thought about it and then I forgot.

This year's contenders were:

No Meat!
No Alcohol!
No online dating!

--

No Meat won.  I'm not worried about getting anemic, and I've done it before (albeit, I've never done it without gluten, so my "easy answer" of a Veggie Delite sandwich just got kicked off the island).

I'm aware that Sundays aren't part of Lent. In the past, I've ignored that and trucked through to Easter.

We'll see how that goes.

Wherein I realize I'm older than I thought I was.

me: Ok. I have to confess something.
For the past several weeks, I have been thinking that I was coming up on my 33rd birthday... and I was wrong.
I'm going to fucking be 34.
EvilSara: :(
me: I AM SO MAD.
EvilSara: Want me to take your mind off it?
I took a 20 minute GMAT test for shits and giggles and realize how math and grammer I have forgotten
I am scared yo
you are mad you are going to be 34?
me: I am mad because I thought I was 32, really.
EvilSara: I have thought I was 32 for the last 3 years
 (yes, that counts the year I was 31)
me: I feel better.
EvilSara: I have to do the math every single time I need my age.
me: I did the math. And I did it wrong.
EvilSara: ok =-| I can't help you with that one.
EvilSara: Did you know you can't even use a simple calculator for the GMAT?
me: Clearly, I'd be screwed.
And I did not know that.

A lot of crazy and a little victory.

I'm hesitant to claim victory, but I have to acknowledge the turning of a corner on the way to it, if nothing else.

So- today I had a really great day up until about 7:00 PM, give or take.  Got up, felt great, went out to an SCA event about 2 hours away, and spent most of the day in the company of great people, learned a little bit and laughed a lot. All very, very good things.  The evening meal was amazing and almost entirely gluten free, and there were even extra brussels sprouts.  Around 7, I got ready to leave, and two things happened pretty much as soon as I got into the car:

1. I realized my cell phone wasn't "dying" but was ENTIRELY dead
2. The cellphone charger I keep in my car that's been kind of temperamental for a little while quit working entirely. 

The event site was in the serious-to-goodness middle of nowhere, so hunting for a signal had drained it down.  I had found signal a few times during the day to check for messages, but it was one of those "stand on one foot while waving an arm in a northerly direction" kind of locations.  Anyway- being entirely disconnected caused me a pretty serious anxiety attack once I got into my car.  It's not just an over-inflated ego.  I want my dad to be able to find me whenever, wherever... and then beyond that, yeah, I guess it's ego.  SO- I start heading homeward, but I can't go back the same way I came because it involved about 90 back roads and the directions were.... on my phone.  Instead, I took a longer route through Ruston to get home because I could trust myself to find it without directions (that I have a TomTom in the glove compartment slipped my mind entirely until I was almost home).

Stopped in Ruston, nearly had a meltdown in Wal-Mart's electronics section, found a charger, and the phone started charging. It was so dead I couldn't turn it on for 20 minutes, but still... one step closer to plugged-inned-ness.  A long 20 minutes, but after which I was rewarded with 2 non-urgent voice mails, 5 no-big-deal texts, and absolutely no notifications that the world had ended due to my negligence.  Take that, ego.  Life can go on without you.

SO-- the BIG FUCKING DEAL to this tangent of how crazy I can be sometimes...

I figured out around 2 that I had no new cartridges for my e-cigarette.  

I've been a horrible quitter in the past.  I've "quit" smoking a few times, but mostly with caveats.  I'm not smoking.... unless I'm in a bar, or having a drink.  I'll quit, but I'll bum one when people are standing around after practice smoking.  Or if it's a bad day, or I'm sad, or I'm anxious because my electronic leash went dead.  I did actually successfully quit-quit last year for a very brief time, but it's never stuck because I've been weak about it, or I wasn't ready, or whatever.  I'd kinda-quit, but I'd cave at the first time an opportunity presented itself.  So, when my last cartridge completely gave up the ghost approximately 2 minutes after I got into my car tonight, that was the perfect moment to stop at a gas station and get a pack- after all, it was an anxious moment and I'd NEED it, right?

The option didn't even cross my mind, not once.  I dealt. I listened to my music and I chewed on a straw (and, ok, I sucked on a dead vapor cartridge, too), but that I could have just stopped and gotten actual cigarettes didn't occur until I was home.

I'm still scared to call myself a non-smoker, and I probably will be for a long time.  I'm very proud of my little success today, though.