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Thursday, June 15th, 2017
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3:53 pm - "we're not the fortunate ones"
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| Sunday, June 11th, 2017
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4:06 pm - "count the years, you always knew it"
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Haven't posted much lately outside of song memes, which allow me to check off the “participate in social media” box, but doesn’t feel especially interactive. And I want to be someone still posting here, I want to be reflecting on my life in the particular way I do on livejournal (even though it’s thru dreamwidth now). We got a dog. A medium-sized brown dog with a pit bull head, a shiba inu tail and a mutt body. I’ll call her Eagerness. (for a poly problem lols, it’s hard to find a name tag with space for three phone numbers) The cats are understandably pissed, Skitterypoof seems to have written off the first floor of the condo entirely. She curls up on the couch beside us, she runs in the morning with Abundance, we’re trying the crating thing. She’s eighteen monthsish old, so still has enough puppy to make me perpetually anxious, but I’m hoping I’ll eventually chill. Being unemployed is becoming more real, and easier and harder. I’ve conquered the local libraries’ byzantine e- and audio-book systems and have been devouring fiction of all sorts. I’m finished with the antibiotics that kicked my ass which were prescribed to treat the sinus infection that was kicking my ass (and the inevitable yeast infection treated as well) I’ve made a gigantic vat of tomato sauce, which I turned some of into lasagna. I’ve made pasta with chickpeas and hominy, something I affectionately call tortilla mess (though the internet claims it’s healthy mexican casserole) and waffles. I’ve made chocolate chocolate cake (a chocolate cake, with chocolate buttercream frosting, covered in chocolate ganache and topped with chocolate shards). Light had a birthday, Peter Mulvey’s coming to my house to give a concert, I’m getting NC tattooed on my wrist on Friday (and then attending a family gathering with my first un-hideable tattoo on Sunday). I’ve organized my to-read list within an inch of its spreadsheety life, I’ve seen movies in the theater, I’ve mostly kept up with the dishes, I’ve gone to the gym more frequently, and I’m feeling better rested and much, much friendlier. We’ll see what happens next. It’s going to be an adventure.
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| Wednesday, June 7th, 2017
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8:41 pm - "And when trouble comes, we’ll start the drums"
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| Monday, June 5th, 2017
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2:39 pm - "maybe you don't have to smile so sad"
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| Friday, June 2nd, 2017
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4:00 pm - "so you might as well sing along"
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9. A song that makes you happy.
Once upon a time, Light and I kickstartered Peter Mulvey at a level that allowed us to pick a song for him to cover. We asked him to cover Odds Are by Barenaked Ladies. It's the best thing ever.
Honorable mentions: a cover of Stronger by Rebecca Loebe and Feet to the Sky by Lulu and the Lampshades.
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| Wednesday, May 31st, 2017
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12:11 pm - Day 8
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| Monday, May 29th, 2017
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10:47 am - Day 7
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| Friday, May 26th, 2017
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11:58 am - Day 6.
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A song that makes you want to dance
ooo...dancing is tricky. I'll happily wiggle to just about anything that's playing in the kitchen while I'm cleaning/cooking, though lately I've been listening to audiobooks more than music. But I feel like I lost dancing, like I put it away in a box labeled sobriety and dropped the box into the ocean. I have a handful of strong clubbing memories from my early twenties, that one Dead Can Dance song, that Sisters of Mercy song, but I don't think they make me want to dance anymore.
Swallow Baby by Ruby is the song I always claim would have been the song I stripped too. I think that'll have to do.
( The ListCollapse ).</div>
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| Tuesday, May 23rd, 2017
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11:24 am - day 5
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5. A song that needs to be played LOUD.
Well, almost anything I want to sing/shout along to.
Zerospace - Kidneythieves, in no small part because it reminds me of goth clubbing days.
Honorable mentions: Car Radio - twenty one pilots and No Shortcuts - HeatherMaloney
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| Sunday, May 21st, 2017
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5:01 pm - Day 3
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Two, because they're easy 3. A song that reminds you of summer. Two Cure songs, both rife with memories from college years. Love Cats and Just Like Heaven 4. A song that reminds you of someone you'd rather forget about Asshat - Stuck Between Stations by The Hold Steady. Haven't listened to this song since 2009. I'm never quite sure if I want to forget (about) Lesson. I'd definitely like to never think of him again, which is maybe the same thing? He gets Your Ex Lover is Dead by Stars. Possibly a little heavyhanded on the alanis morrisette irony to pick a song for this with the lyrics "I'm not sorry I met you / I'm not sorry it's over / I'm not sorry there's nothing to say".
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| Saturday, May 20th, 2017
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5:42 pm - day 2
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| Friday, May 19th, 2017
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11:18 am - memesheep, music
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Snagging this one beause I think it's adorable and because I appreciate the opportunity to go digging around in my music collection. (let's see how many of them end up being Kris Delmhorst and Peter Mulvey songs)
1.A song you like with a colour in the title
Yellow Brick Road by Kris Delmhorst
Honorable mentions: Beautiful Red Dress by Laurie Anderson and Black Feather Wings by Monique Ortiz
( The listCollapse )
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| Monday, May 15th, 2017
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7:58 pm
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Finished listening to None of the Above by I.W. Gregorio a couple days ago. The book is about an intersex 18yo girl who has just discovered she's intersex. She's a high school senior, a competitive runner, and just got voted Homecoming Queen when this all comes out. (the incident that sends her to an obgyn is attempting to have sex for the first time with her awful boyfriend).
Everything that happens for a little while is awful. She tells a couple people in confidence, the secret doesn't get kept, she gets dumped, bullied (both cyber and not), she gets suspended from the track team, etc. She spends a lot of time trying to keep things from her dad, because years ago her mother died of cervical cancer and he's never really recovered.
The part that really struck me is that while I'm cisgender, some of the places where I've seen a little bit of my menopause story reflected back at me is in trans and (now) intersex narratives. In this book in particular, the protagonist undergoes a gonadectomy and then "forgets" to take her estrogen supplements, and essentially hits menopause and her experience of hot flashes sparked that sick feeling under my breastbone that empathy sometimes creates. I don't want to co-opt anything, that's not my intent. Part of my discomfort with the stories I do hear about mastectomies and oopherectomies is because those are Cancer Stories and I did not/do not have cancer, I just had fear and statistics motivating my surgeries. And I'll straight up admit that I don't feel like I know enough to talk about what it must be like to transition or to be intersex.
But there was some thread here, something that has popped up a couple times in a couple different places, something I want to tease out.
I didn't love the book. I'm not even sure I liked it. She's kind of a twit and surrounded by mostly incompetent adults and it's possible that true love saves her. But it did get a fishhook into my brain somewhere.
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| Thursday, May 11th, 2017
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11:42 am - "i could love every single person in this truckstop"
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Yesterday, after a couple different "you don't know so-and-so" comments at Intention's house, I exclaimed "I'm basically a shut-in".
I see my partners, the cohabiting and the not, I see Intention and their family, I see Hips and Hands, and everyone else I'm pretty much forgotten how to be friends/be social/return emails in a timely fashion/leave the house (or at least that is how it feels). Then shame and exhaustion incline me to continue not taking action and the next thing I know I haven't talked to someone for months, and I'm too scared they think I'm a shitty person to reach out. And I hope that I've wandered through the part of my life where I make friends because I know I can serve some need they have and that will cause them to attach to me (it's a little less mercantile than that) but I'm not sure I've wandered into the next part either. Maybe I'm turning over a new leaf now that I'm going to be a lady of leisure. Maybe I have exactly the right amount of social in my life already. Maybe it's time to figure out how volunteer meaningfully without getting into a service relationship with an organization. Maybe what I really want is more people to talk to on the internet. Maybe it's time to learn to be still more often. Maybe it's time to cultivate some truly epic pinterest boards. (maybe it's time to learn to only use one space after a period.)
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| Saturday, May 6th, 2017
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5:32 pm - "just like every time the tide rolls out"
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The mood, it has not been ideal. The thought "you're ruining everything" keeps popping up in my head and it's almost impossible to shout down. And there's some sort of weird synergy going on, because normally that thought makes me cry, but Abudance and Light and I all went to Guardians of the Galaxy today, and I was crying about the movie at the end, and all of a sudden, in super-stark clarity my brain provided the "you're ruining everything." So not only do I cry when I think it, when I cry I think it.
Clear as mud.
Need to make oatcakes for the Beltaine ritual tomorrow. Need to wash dishes, make a grocery list, cook food, brush cats, read books, journal, cross-stitch, figure out how to integrate all the stuff I brought home from the office into the house. Need to sort out the month, need to find the appointment reminder that tells me when my appointment with my psychopharm is tomorrow.
Need to calm down.
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| Sunday, April 30th, 2017
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7:35 pm
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In my personal journal, sometimes I just type "just keep starting" a handful of times to remind myself to spring back from the "failure" of not writing daily.
Work is weird, I have eight more days of work and I suspect they're just going to get weirder. My boss has asked me to write a document detailing all the things I do which is pretty much feels impossible. I do a lot of complicated things without support, there is no one in the Center who knows how to do most of my job, including my boss and it's hard to write instructions without knowing how much excel/beast-specific software experience someone has (if the answer to both is none, my instructions will just be pages of maniacal laughter).
I'd forgotten when we moved offices and had to get rid of a lot of our old books and magazines that I salvaged an entire box of old dictionaries and nat geo maps for craft purposes, so it's been interesting to re-discover those. I have grand intentions to make a canopy for my canopy bed by stringing fake flower petals on wire, and the test strip looks a lot like I want it to, but now I'm tempted to make some sort of bunting out of old maps.
Went to a dog show with Hips, had an awesome time. Went to Indie Bookstore Day and got 2 postcard coloring books and a Jenny Lawsonprint. Therapy three times a week sometimes means three bouts of weeping (which is different than crying. Crying I can talk through, weeping is mostly trying not to make those awkward high keening noises and gasping instead) which means my eyes always feel tired. Listening to Bone Witch, reading The Immortals. Possibly have to drive to Lowell for jury duty on Tuesday.
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| Sunday, April 23rd, 2017
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5:00 pm
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Giving notice tomorrow, if I don't lose my nerve. giving three weeks.
selected and purchased two CSA from two differnet farms, one predominantly veggies and one exclusively fruit. Hoping that my status as a lady of leisure will translate into me preparing strange veggies in interesting ways. One of my projects is going to be to use every spice in my cabinet once. If I manage to do this, I can start purchasing strange-to-me spices from the russian store.
Every morning, I sit with my growlight, read the two news aggregators I subscribe to (Skimm and CNN's five things) and eat a cookie from the aforementioned russian store that I dip in my tea. they are now known as news cookies in my household.
Didn't march, again. Light's girlfriend marched and I know it's not a competition, but it made me feel even more like I was failing at something.
I have a page in my bullet journal I'm titling "costume" and I'm keeping track of which eyeshadows and which perfumes I'm wearing. Still trying to find something I like as much as I like Ava Luxe's Milk perfume, which Abundance hates. Still haven't found one. BPAL makes me smell like baby powder, play dough or potpourri gone moldy. Possets has a couple things I love, but the retour hasn't come around yet. (nom nom nom, fires of hell).
I'm contemplating trying to get into/onto facebook again, pare down the list to the fourteen people I like in the world and try to stay in touch with those people.
So, you know. Things.
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| Thursday, April 13th, 2017
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10:27 am - "trying not to grasp, not to start grasping"
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This post is brought to you by a combination of
a) picking up the final framed cross stitch I spent this year making for Tank's little sister yesterday
b) seeing a picture posted to facebook of Mech's happy family
c) a text Mech hasn't answered
d) a lot of feelings which have lead to
e) crying in my office
Since I'm not going to send this letter to my little brother, I'm going to post it here. I'm a little ashamed, I'm a little concerned the parents in the audience are going to tell me the ways in which I'm wrong, but posting feels like getting to say a thing, even if it's not saying it to the person I want to say it to.
Dear Mech, I feel like you and Teach are doing a shitty thing to me and in turn a shitty thing to Tank. I suspect you both have problems with how I do things that you've chosen not to tell me about, but even with that, I'm an awesome aunt. I love Tank deeply, I provided awesome free childcare, I took him to awesome classes and would continue to do so if it was possible.
However I'm fairly certain that remaining seriously attached to someone controlled by people who can't be trusted to treat me decently is not a good plan for me. I'm going to try to stop begging for the opportunity to see him. If the choices you make for him involve not being able to accomodate me in his life, then I'll abide by that (it's not like I've got a choice). But I believe if you can plan preschool and play dates, you can plan for me to have a presence in his life. If you don't want to plan for that, I'd prefer you tell me that rather than pretend it's impossible to do so.
Maybe you're not sending secret messages by not responding to my emails, texts and phone calls. But the unsecret one, of not being someone you make time to respond to, is pretty clear.
I suspect you believe I can't actually understand either of your feelings because I'm not a parent, and that being a parent exempts you from treating me like I matter, because it is only Tank and his baby sister that actually matter. Neither of us will ever know that, you can't say I don't understand your feelings and I can't say I do. But I suspect that your parent-feelings don't actually preclude making space for me in Tank's life, it's not that kind of either-or unless you decide it is. Don't teach your kids that people who love them will leave them mysteriously.
love
-omnia
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| Wednesday, April 12th, 2017
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6:05 pm
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Start with short bursts of information, work up to longer posts. Or at least that's what I'm telling myself.
I keep a journal almost every day, I start each entry with eating, wearing, reading and coveting. It's pleasant to give myself the space to just want objects.
I just got back from the Virgin Islands, where I vacationed with Light and Hands and Hips, where we spent as much time snorkeling as our bodies would allow. I saw all the fish, and many non-fish-shaped things (turtles, rays, pelicans, hummingbirds, donkeys, goats).
I just finished Mira Grant's Final Girls and it was the kind of engaging where I completely stopped registering the passage of time until I was done. I continue to try to remind myself to refer to all authors by their first and last names, because I occasionally find myself referring to female-identified authors by first names and male-identified authors by last names and it pisses me off when I notice. I'm listening to Ghost Talkers by Mary Robinette Kowal, and it's interesting, but there's something off that I can't identify, the same uneasy feeling that her Glamourist series gave me, something in the combination of period piece and gender roles that I don't like. Which is strange, because I often see her saying many things I agree with about happenings in fandom.
(Yes, sometimes like a scab I can't leave unpicked, I read about bad things happening at sff/literary type conventions. Despite what Abundance tells me about trying to get into service relationships with organizations (ie: Don't), I sometimes feel like it's a way to be useful, a way to find community that I should try again, but then I remember the moderate haze I left under and the burnout and the discomfort)
in other news: I'm trying to convince myself that if I/we can afford to have me quit my job, I don't need a better reason than being exhausted and feeling lost to quit.
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| Tuesday, March 28th, 2017
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9:17 pm - 's
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Why is it so hard to write some days? I've been shit at even keeping my own journal, unwilling to look at anything with too much focus, instead playing picross and petting cats and crying. So much crying.
Today was therapy, which involved crying about Tank, and how my regularly scheduled Wednesdays with him are over, and exactly how unfriendly his mom is (I thought this was going to be my last week with him, but at the end of my visit last week she informed me that that they had other plans this week). And I wondered how Tank's mom (my sister-in-law) had turned into my parents in my head and all I want to know is what I did wrong and how I can change so that they/she'll like me and stop cutting my access off to something I want.
I don't know how people do this. I can draw a line in the sand, tell her that I don't appreciate this, but then I'm even less likely to get access to my nephew. I can just give up, stop seeing my nephew and I will pine so very, very much, but eventually there will be an end to the pining. I can chase my little brother, nag him into the occasional weekend date with him and my nephew (and maybe my niece and maybe sister-in-law). Now, it's not that I think it's somehow my sister-in-law's fault, and not my baby brother's. It's his too, all of his excuses about her being an ass involve explanations about motherhood.
I'm off to a tropical island at the end of this week, and hopefully some quality time stalking sea turtles will even me out a little bit, and then I'll be able to start thinking about what I'm feeling again, and quit my job, and take up hobbies and get a dog. So, you know. Things.
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