"Well, Terry, it sure as shit ain't sad."

Sun, 17 May 2009 11:23:35 GMT

I think I'm parting ways with livejournal. Everything I've to say to the world at large comes out these days, railing at gods I don't believe in after doctors' appointments, and I'm trying to say all the things I have to say to individuals to the individuals themselves.

I'll try to keep up with the six or so of you that I actually always read but otherwise, I'm going try to find something else to do be doing with my time rather than getting in deep conversations with myself if i want to post something, or trying to figure out if I'm supposed to be commenting on something someone else said. I've got my safe place to talk right now, and it entirely private and I think for the foreseeable future, that'll be what works out best for me.

And yeah, I think I just gave a breakup speech. It's not that I particularly think anyone will be sobbing into his or her cheerios, I just wanted to formalize it that if there's important information that you care about me specifically knowing, try to get it to me some other way.

Thu, 16 Apr 2009 11:52:45 GMT

(Intentional yelling to follow)

I SLEPT THE NIGHT THROUGH. Tenth time is apparently the charm.

I'm not getting my hopes up yet, but am happy to report that uninterrupted sleep is awesome.

Books

Sat, 11 Apr 2009 20:37:34 GMT

31. The secret history of moscow by ekatrina sedia. I wanted to enjoy this a lot, and might have enjoyed it more if I hadn't had such grand hopes. A solid book.
32. Party of the Century: The Fabulous Story of Truman Capote and His Black and White Ball by Deborah Davis. Just as much trashy fun as her other book, though about an entirely different topic. This was in fact a book that deserved to use the word fabulous in the title.
33. Serve the People by Jen Lin-Liu. Nonfiction journey through China, learning how to cook all the various ways China allows. Interesting, but kind of slow.
24. Crescent by Diane Abu-Jaber. Not my favorite book of hers. It seems sort of complicated and precious and facile all at once.
35. Under My Roof by Nick Mamatas. Short, hysterical. A homebrew nuclear device in a garden gnome in Long Island, and loosely based on an Aristophanes play.
36. The Suicide Collectors by David Oppegaard. I really do like post-apocalyptic novels of just about any bent. I've commissioned a friend to read this so
37. Snow Flower and the Secret Fan by Lisa See. Dull, but on my list of books to read. And I get to take it off.
38. Mind the Gap by Christopher Golden and Tim Lebbon. Another solid fantasy read. It didn't blow my socks off, but I still got the sequel out of the library.
39. The Living Dead, ed. John Joseph Adams. Many, many good zombie stories, but in the end, it was just a little too long.
40. Thirteen Bullets by David Wellington. Noirish cop fiction with unsexy vampires.

Sun, 29 Mar 2009 11:15:47 GMT

Well, that ranked up there on the hit parade of worst dreams I've ever had.

In my dream, someone (a lady doctor) told me very convincingly that I did not have to go to this scary thing I'm about to go do, that in fact that I didn't have to worry about it at all. there was a breath-taking moment upon waking up before I realized it wasn't real.

GRAGH. Crankypants deployed.

Wed, 25 Mar 2009 17:53:56 GMT

I am filled with a sense of lingering dread. And I feel like it should be easily traced to the incipient surgery, but it feels different, more car-crashy. And it's annoying, and not at all the right mood to be doing dishes in, but for the life of me, I can't figure out what metaphorical iron I might have left on.

Maybe it's just my too-busy job and my depression-dirty house, or finally being almost all the way over this bloody flu and having a little bit of energy.

But I'd like it to stop now, ideally without ever actually resolving into a thing to be this worked up about.

Thu, 12 Mar 2009 02:43:02 GMT

I feel like I'm reading more slowly these days. A combination of cross-stitch and preoccupation, I think.

That said

21. Mean Streets by Jim Butcher, Simon R Green, Kat Richardson and Thomas Sniegoski. Four novellas about detectives in urban fantasy settings. The Butcher was of a piece, and enjoyable on that basis, the Green didn't do anything for me, the Richardson left me curious about her work, and the Sniegoski was sort of incomplete.
22. Swallowing Darkness by Laurel Hamilton. Sweet buttery Jesus was this book bizarre, and not in a fun way. This one wasn't even particularly full of sex with men with odd colors of hair. The ending felt out of character, and the title of the book was by far the best part of it.
23. The Best of Lady Churchill's Rosebud Wristlet ed. by Kelly Link and Gavin J Grant. A very cool compilation from a zine published in Northampton (of all places). The Sarah Monette and the David J Schwartz were my very favorites.
24. Coastliners by Joanne Harris. Well, that was a bit of an uphill slog. not a bad book, not a great book, just a wearying one.
25. Unravel Me by Christie Ridgeway. A romance novel. A smutty, smutty romance novel, with a LYS.
26. Bone Crossed by Patricia Briggs. As far as I'm concerned, this series is the pinnacle of the supernatural novel with a tattooed women on the cover. I adored this, I'm weirdly and completely fond of the main character and I'm totally rooting for her to live happily ever after.
27. Strapless by Deborah Davis. The best infotainment I've read in a long, long time. Mostly, the story of John Singer Sargent and the portrait of Madame X, but with a lot of backstory.
28. Superpowers by David J Schwartz. His short in the aforementioned Best Of was awesome. This was pointedly not. Some 20 year olds develop superpowers, have ethical dilemmas and then 9/11 happens and they continue to have ethical dilemmas.
29. Oscar Wilde and a Death of No Importance by Gyles Brandreth. One would think it would be hard to go wrong with a novel about Oscar Wilde and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle teaming up to solve the murder of pretty young boy. Maybe it is hard to go wrong, but wrong this went (to me). It too was an uphill slog.
30. The Night Villa by Carol Goodman. Another so-so book. The classical bit was interesting, but not enough. The mystery was interesting, but also not enough to really keep me involved.

Fri, 20 Feb 2009 14:58:46 GMT

I feel…place-less of late. Which certainly isn't a new thing, but seems to have crystallized a little bit. I'm obviously and joyously both defined and tethered by my marriage, and I wouldn't trade that for the world. My cats, my cookbooks, my brothers.

But my childless choice chops of one set of self-definition, my lack of anything after a bachelor's, another. My job, while pretty awesome, heightens my sense of adriftness, there's a lot of social undercurrents I'm just not figuring out how to read. (though I did finally have a cards on the table with one of the other women there, and she said yes, everyone but she and I have definitely drunk the koolaid). And I know this is an ongoing lament, and that everyone eventually either chooses their labels or gets over themselves, or never questions it in the first place, but I envy those with that ineffable sense of who they are, where they're going and why.

My tendencies towards isolation, which I feel like I'm in constant battle with, seem to be winning out over my desire to make plans and I wonder exactly why I keep fighting this battle. Sure, I like my friends, but I also like my solitude and maybe in the end, I don't need to be an apologist about either tendency. And I think in part, I fight my antisocial tendencies because I hate how I feel when a post or a status update goes uncommented-upon, and I think that if I find the right set of behaviors, of friends, that I'll finally feel full up of attention, and that once I get enough, I can then figure out how to be calm in my skin.

We're couchshopping now, trying to find the perfect arrangement that will somehow magically maximize seating potential without leaving me feel like the room is insanely cluttered. This isn't an easy pursuit when the two people involved have not just vastly different ideas of what furniture shopping should entail, but vastly differing lengths of leg to boot. Light claims he would have just gone into a store, picked something out the first night, and dealt with it if it didn't work. I, on the other hand, want the Right Couch, some platonic ideal of couch that will keep forever, repel cat hair, allow six people to sit comfortably in space never designed to fit six people and magically help me reach the decision of what color to paint my entire house. I would, however, settle for just one of those attributes.

I'm nesting, in a crazy intense way, though it's not actually manifesting as anything other than bookmarking websites and flights of fancy. Eventually I'll need to take the first step, but these February days I can barely convince myself to hang up the clean laundry, much less paint anything. Your time will come, giant blank white walls, your time will come. I'm hoping, on more levels than one, that March will be a month of planning, and April will be a month of doing.

Wed, 18 Feb 2009 18:14:40 GMT

Owning a wide-eyed kitten is paralytic. It is also good for keeping one out of the doldrums (more the metaphorical than the geographical). She is warm, and sits on my shoulder and purrs her heart out, or curls up on my feet under the blankets, and the laundry doesn't get hung up or the dishes done, but I can't be arsed to mind. You should totally come meet her.

more books

Sat, 14 Feb 2009 12:36:47 GMT

11. Site Unseen by Dana Cameron. A Emma Fielding mystery. Interesting, and yet kind of eh, all at the same time. I'm really not a very good audience for murder mysteries, and this was no exception. I started it because I was intrigued by the premise of an archeologist who specializes in early colonial New England, but there wasn't enough of that to keep me interested.
12. A Version of the Truth by Jennifer Kaufman and Karen Mack. Chick lit. I picked it up because the pull quote on the front is from Nature and reads "It's The Devil Wears Prada meets Walden Pond." Um, sort of? Solid, but unremarkable.
13. Black Ships by Jo Graham. Le Guin's Lavinia meets MZB's Firebrand, but good in its very own way. An Aeneid retelling, of a sort, by the Pythia. Well written, with kind of awesome details. This is definitely my recommendation from this set, even if the ending made me cry.
14. The School of Essential Ingredients by Erica Bauermesiter. Sweet, a little simple, but it also made me tear up on the bus. Also, I'm still a sucker for any use of food as a thematic instrument.
15. In the Land of No Right Angles by Daphne Beal. Well, she's definitely working something out by writing, I guess. More power to her, but I wish I hadn't read it.
16. Unclean Spirits (Book One of the Black Sun's Daughter) by MLN Hanover. A fantastically awful example of the "chick with a tattoo on the cover" paranormal novel. Thoroughly unremarkable. I think I shall retire from the genre until I can get my hands on Briggs' newest.
17. Elsewhere by Will Shetterly. Captures being an annoying teenager very well. Sadly, is annoying in the process of doing so. I have fond, fond memories of a Bordertown anthology from my adolescence and this sort of snuck in under that cover.
18. Promises to Keep by Charles Delint. Yet another Jilly Coppercorn novel. Another short novel, with a nice (if occasionally facile feeling) mix of adorable and dark.
19. Best Food Writing 2008 ed. by Holly Hughes. This was an odd anthology. There seemed a mean-spirited glee in the topic of vegetarians lapsing. Holly Hughes appears to have some issues with people who don't eat meat. That said, there are also some very sweet essays and some interesting points.
20. Thirteen Orphans by Jane Lindskold. First in a series. I objected a little bit to the severity of the cliffhanger, but I recognize that's a fine line in writing a series that's plot rather than character driven. That said, I like the world-building. The magic/mythology is new to me (a combination of mahjongg and chinese astrology), and the characters are likable and interesting. I also recommend this if you're fantasy-novel inclined.

Local

Wed, 11 Feb 2009 18:46:36 GMT

Anyone have an eye doctor they adore? Or one that I should stay away from at all costs?

Thu, 05 Feb 2009 01:41:15 GMT

Work, kitten, shovel, clean, make dinner, read embarrassing literature, repeat. Try to schedule social time with limited success, and feel both saddened and relieved when I don't, because that means I get to hang out on the couch with Light and all the cats.

I'm hanging in there. I feel isolated, but I think it's a little bit deliberate, I'm not as good about returning emails as I could be, and I'm mostly using facebook to play word games, to say nothing of the livejournal. I feel like I've spent a lot of time hunkered down these past 18 months, but I think it's almost all wisely done. I'm still full of angst and dread and social anxiety and inability to deal with thoughts of mortality but I'm tamping them down as tightpack as I can, because I can't think of what else to do.

But there is wildly good things in the world, lovely visitors from out of town and from down the road, a brandy new kitten who very well might end up thinking her name is Crazypants. I got a rocking ice chopper from my little brother for my birthday, the condo association acquired a snow blower. We made something called chocolate seitan pie (which is actually a shepherds pie with unsweetened chocolate in it) and it was actually really good. There's a Kris Delmhorst concert next week, and a warm bed in what is probably an absurdly short period of time. I'm trying to rock 33, and maybe I just need a little ramp up time.

Wed, 28 Jan 2009 03:09:14 GMT

Shadow Kiss by Richelle Mead. Trashy, trashy YA vampire. I loved it. n Read it if you're in the mood for trashy YA vampire.
In the Woods by Tana French. This book left me cranky. I'm not usually a very good mystery-reader, either I'm cross because I figure out the mystery and feel like it should have been harder, or I'm cross because I don't figure out the mystery and at the end, the reveal feels downright smug. This, however, made me cranky because it decides not to wrap up an undercurrent that ran throughout the entire book. The main mystery, a murdered little girl, is tied up, but the secondary mystery is just sort of left on the side of the road. (The main character's two best friends disappeared one day when they were all twelve, leaving the main character clutching a tree, with socks full of blood and no memory of what happened.) I guess I believe if that much time is going to be spent on something, I want the whole story. I suggest skipping this book.
The End of Mr Y by Scarlett Thomas. A very intriguing book, if a little frustrating. It felt like a novelization of reading a paper in college that you didn't quite agree with, but couldn't find the hole in the argument. Also, it made me want to read Pope and Butler and maybe even Baudrillard. Also, within the book someone is writing a book called Poststructuralist Physics. I liked it, more in the middle than at the end. Hips gave it to me to read so as to have someone to talk to about it, and I'm pretty sure that I'd like to return the favorite, pass it off to someone else to see what they thought about it.
Princeps' Fury by Jim Butcher. Some brilliant, laugh out lines. Butcher seems to me to be something of a two-or-three trick pony, but he's getting very, very good at those tricks and it's exactly the sort of fluff I want to be reading these days.
Wolfsbane and Mistletoe ed. by Charlaine Harris and Toni LP Kelner. Yep, it's a collection of shorts about christmas and werewolves. As per usual in these theme collections Harris seems to be churning out, there were some good and some bad. I still have a huge fondness for Briggs, I liked the Dana Cameron (the author is a professional archaelogist specializing in colonial new england, how cool is that?) and the Alan Gordon was also enjoyable. Also, as per usual, some of these were not-even-veiled tie-ins to existing series, which I'm sure is a lovely little bit of frosting for people already on board with the series, but fell a little flat for me.
Pretty Monsters by Kelly Link. I have a crush the size of Portugal on this author. Seriously, I'm not sure I've felt this fangirly in a long, long time.
The Partisan's Daughter by Louis De Bernieres. I didn't like either of the main characters, and the end is depressing and it left me annoyed and irritable. That said, it's well written as is everything this man writes.
The Uses of Enchantment by Heidi Julavits Much like the previous book, I don't like the characters, or maybe even the story. But I keep reading everything this woman writes, because though it's depressing/annoying, she's really good at writing about how fucked up people are and thoroughly people can fuck each other up. It's smartly written, with some kind of brilliant descriptions.
Blood Heritage by Sheri Tepper. Early Tepper, for me, is like looking at a quilt where the creator had an awesome eye for pattern/color but very little ability to attach the pieces together. Bits of the story are awesome, but bits of it are just sort of hard to follow or uninteresting.
Magic for Beginners by Kelly Link. Some shorts that were also in Pretty Monsters, but still a very good book.

Tue, 27 Jan 2009 01:32:45 GMT

Funnyface has returned home. The vet says it was probably just a stomach bug (but we're supposed to feed her half tablets of pepcid AC for the week). She has put her crankypants on and is curled up on the couch. The new kitten (henceforth named Irrepressible) continues lives up to her usename, and also sleeps curled between Light and I under the covers at night.

I am tired of many things, and were it not for the new president and my new kitten, I would fire this month so hard that future years would go straight from December to February. But Funnyface is fine, and there are cookies in the oven.

Sun, 25 Jan 2009 22:12:44 GMT

Funnyface is spending the night at the cat hospital because she wouldn't stop throwing up. Her Xray was clear, and her initial bloodwork was fine.

However, I am, of course, still convinced this is the end of the world. Think good thoughts for my kitty, internet at large?

Fri, 23 Jan 2009 14:42:09 GMT

The kitten keeps falling asleep on my shoulder and waylaying all of my plans. Because, well, kitten asleep on my shoulder.

Thu, 22 Jan 2009 21:35:01 GMT

The first seven (7) people to respond to this post will get something made by me.

This offer does have some restrictions and limitations:

- I make no guarantees that you will like what I make.
- What I create will be just for you.
- It'll be done this year (2009).
- You have no clue what it's going to be. There's a strong chance it will be cookies, though.
- I reserve the right to send you anything the post office lets me put in a box. I like it even better if I can hand it off to you in person, though.

I'd like it if you posted this in your journal of course, but whatever.

Overdue birthday recap

Thu, 22 Jan 2009 16:57:24 GMT

And lo, there was a new kitten. She is a teeny, spicy tortoiseshell who has white whiskers on one side and black whiskers on the other and absolutely loves people. (or so far she has loved me, Light, my little brother and my little brother's ladyfriend).

There was also the best food I have ever eaten at Oleana. Light had a vegetarian tasting menu, which began with two bread dips, one a carrot puree with hazelnuts and the other armenian bean and walnut puree with homemade string cheese. his second course was a trio of pita dips. one was whipped feta cheese, one was cilantro tabbouleh and the third was a parsnip hummus with whole chickpeas and some sort of honey sauce. Third course was spinach falafel with baby greens and some sort of beet-yogurt spread. Fourth course was bread-ricotta dumplings in a kale and mushroom red sauce and fifth course was a fried polenta cake covered in melted pecorina cheese and topped with an olive tomato tapenade that nearly made me begin singing. His dessert was a sesame cashew tart with salted caramel ice cream.

I had three courses and dessert. My first was a vegetarian-fail moment because deviled eggs with tuna was just too appealing to pass up. My second was carrot soup with a goat cheese fritter, which came close to giving me religion. My third course was chickpeas and spicy fideos, and my dessert was brown butter bread pudding with milk jam and mulberries.

I've decided to give up going out to all other dinners ever, in exchange for returning to this particular mecca more regularly.

Other than that, I'm still on my hermit kick. I had a thing today, and it went poorly, and so today shall be a whole lot of excedrin migraine, tea (celestial seasonings put out a pomegranate/cranberry green tea that tastes a little bit like hot koolaid and a lot like awesome) and kitten. I also have an extremely strong craving for poached eggs and toast, but have only eggbeaters and tortilla wraps.

Sat, 17 Jan 2009 13:40:28 GMT

Happy birthday to me!

The work thing last night was very cool. Light's now met my coworkers and agrees with me that for the most part they're almost eerily nice, and that my specific boss is one of the sweetest women to walk the earth. Also, they loved my baklava. I was socially awkward, but I think no more so than was to be expected.

Light thinks I'm making up the Charlie on the MTA story/song. I think he's making up that he's never heard of it. I have the youtube video queued for when he wakes up.

Today, possible kitten and Oleana. Tomorrow, a Jeffrey Foucault concert. (Monday, periodontist). Also, if it really hits 34 (heatwave!), I might go to work on the ice floe that's built up in our driveway. My doctor gave me a trial run of Ambien, so I might even get to get back on that sleeping thing that I hear such nice things about.

"came to be converted but I was misunderstood"

Fri, 16 Jan 2009 00:23:55 GMT

I turn 33 on Saturday. I might get a birthday kitten. I also need to find someone to tattoo me, pronto, because I need grounding like no one's business.

Work is good, I think, I'm getting compliments and I'm feeling like I'm approaching a decent speed/knowledge base. Tomorrow there's a work-party potluck and I'm making baklava to try to impress them. Light's gaming group is here tonight, and I'm inflicting a test run of baklava on them as soon as it cools.

I've painted my fingernails with cheap glitter nail polish, I'm reading a lovely book, I bought myself a page-a-day calendar of cookie recipes. I'm in a weird headspace though, both fretting about unreturned emails, excited about potential visitors, and yet feeling all hermitty and like I want nothing more to stay on my couch with my husband and my cats.

I had a lovely, lovely woman over last weekend to help me try to figure out what colors I want to paint my house. I'm still feeling a little daunted/thwarted simply by all this blond, blond wood and these white, white walls. Just like everything else, I'm better at finding the best out of a limited set of options. If I'm given the world to choose from, I get all flustered. Mostly, I want to paint everything dusty purple and sage, but I imagine I wouldn't like that as much in reality as I do in my head.

Now, as per usual, more tea.

Wed, 07 Jan 2009 20:37:03 GMT

I want a cigarette. I keep having dreams wherein people offer me cigarettes, and sometimes I taken them and it's totally fine that I did and sometimes I take them and it's the worst thing I've ever done, but I never say no.

And it's a very specific thing I want from the cigarette. I want the world to take a step back for a moment, give me space to get a little perspective, and then it can start up again. And as of yet, five years and change later, I have found nothing that will do that for me. Yes, I'm happier and healthier and I still don't intend to start smoking again, but I would pay a whole lot of money if I could, a handful of times a day, just check out for a couple minutes, get that little bit of perspective and then pick everything back up and continue moving forward.

Someone today at work asked me to use a different phrase for something, and for some reason, I nearly melted into the floor and/or cried. And it shouldn't faze me, and I won't let it change my actions but oh by all that anyone holds holy, the only way I could think of to cope with it was a cigarette, and since that wasn't available, I just sort of spent a while beating myself up, in turns for saying the thing and for not being able to react comfortably to someone's request.

But, whatever. I'm home now and there are dishes to do and things to tidy. I fell asleep at 8pm two nights in a row, once just because and once with a fierce migraine. Hopefully tonight, I'll stay away a little longer. And I'm telling myself bedtime stories of getting into the rhythm of working, finding a calm place and being able to be social comfortably. Or just knitting and playing a lot of computer games.

Facebook drives me a little bit mad, and there's all these people from my past that I might get to do tea with at some point in the future (noises have been made, but plans have not) and I think it's a good thing, I think that if I can even produce a fraction of the comfort I get from chile from some other part of my past, it's well worth a little bit of rejection but oh how I hate waiting for emails.

Otherwise, things go well. My new KitchenAid blender is the pinnacle of sexy, my cat remains incredibly annoying, and my birthday approaches and brings with it all sorts of fun introspection. I like the book I'm reading, I have a new cross-stitch project to start and my husband still rocks.

Also, world at large, I long for stitch'n'bitch. I think I've got the space, but not necessarily the appropriately arranged furniture nor a large enough friend group to manifest one. Suggestions?

Books

Thu, 01 Jan 2009 03:13:24 GMT

Next year, I think I'm going to start try to post whenever I hit X books, rather than by month.

A long list of books, without any reviews. Ask if you're curious, of course.

Cursor's Fury, Captain's Fury and Backup by Jim Butcher.
Whipping Girl: A Transsexual Woman on Sexism and the Scapegoating of Feminity by Julia Serano.
The Sand Castle by Rita Mae Brown.
The Family Tree by Sheri Tepper.
Up for Renewal: What Magazines Taught Me About Love, Sex and Starting Over by Cathy Alter.
Exile and Pride by Eli Clare.
Your Scandalous Ways by Loretta Chase
The Glimmer Palace by Beatrice Colin
Bread Alone and The Baker's Apprentice by Judith R. Hendricks
Dragon Blood by Patricia Briggs
Eccentric Glamour: Creating an Insanely More Fabulous You by Simon Doonan.
A Brief History of the Dead by Kevin Brockmeier
Fortune's Fool and the Wizard of Londonby Mercedes Lackey.
Odalisque and Emissaryby Fiona McIntosh.
Dreadful Skin by Cherie Priest.
Wastelands ed. by John Joseph Adams.
Chalice by Robin McKinley
Bad Monkeys by Matt Ruff
Generation Loss by Elizabeth Hand
Blood and Iron and Dust Elizabeth Bear
The Graveyard Book by Neil Gaiman
Pomegranate Soupand Rosewater and Soda Bread by Marsha Mehran
All U Can Eat by Emma Holly
The Sun, the Moon & the Stars by Steven Brust
Stirfry and The Sealed Letter by Emma Donohue
Waiter Rant by the Waiter
Benighted by Kit Whitfield
The Child by Sarah Schulman
fortune and fate by Sharon Shinn
Housewrights by Art Corriveau
Fortune's aughter by Alice Hoffman
The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society by Masry Ann Sharper and Annie Barrows
The Church of Dead Girls by Stephen Dobyns
The Last Chinese Chef by Nicole Mones
The Tent by Margaret Atwood
Night Work by Thomas Glavinic
Midnighters: The Secret Hour - Scott Westerfield
succubus blues by Richelle Mead
Untamed by PC Cast
The Queen's Handmaiden by Jennifer Ashley
unexpected magic by Dianne Wynne Jones
The Pirate's Daughter by Margaret Cezair-Thompson
The Billionaire's Vinegar by Benjamin Wallace -
dingo by Charles De Lint
The Devil You Know and Vicious Circle by Mike Carey
The Unfortunate Miss Fortunes by Anne Stuart, Jennifer Crusie, and Eileen Dreyer
Fumbling Towards Divinity by Craig Hickman
The Gilda Stories by Jewelle Gomex
Pandemonium by Daryl Gregory

all straight lines circle sometime.

Wed, 31 Dec 2008 23:00:49 GMT

Well, 2008 was a full, full year, and while it leaves me so much better than it found me, I'd still like the coming year to be full of something else entirely.

A recap: On the housing front, Light and I sold our Northampton house (after one failed sale), househunted, and settled on and purchased our new condo. We had some renovations done, had our Northampton stuff moved out by professionals and all the stuff from our apartment moved by friends and family. We have unpacked, settled in, found out many of the weird flaws a new place will always have, had a chunk of the upstairs bathroom rewired, and still have grand plans about finding furniture to fit this space.

On the job front: In February, Light was laid off, six months after we moved out here so he could take that job. Shortly thereafter, after some flailing, he was offered a job at the company that now employs him and while it's the very opposite of a startup, sometimes he seems to have fun, and we're both glad he didn't try to go the financial route. I, after a great deal of brow-beating, began looking for a job, tried to temp and failed, and as of this point, have been hired by a division of Harvard Med and have had my first two disorienting weeks of work.

On the health front, Light's back continue to plague him, I developed super-annoying plantar fasciitis, Light took surgical steps to ensure our no-baby policy, I managed to break up with my therapist and begin behavioral therapy instead and I had my first mammogram and gum surgery. And, since i can't figure out somewhere else to fit it in, Light's sister gave birth and we became an aunt and uncle for the first time.

On the traveling front, we went to my 10 year college reunion (I still don't know how I felt about it, six months later) his family reunion in Johnstown, PA, my family reunion in Stonington, CT. We spent our two year anniversary in Mystic, CT after some mishaps, and our holidays in Delafield, WI. On more local fronts, we've also been to back to Northampton, down to Marshfield for family things, and Providence for the RISD art sale.

Each year gets better. Each year I'm more in love with Light, and 2008 blew 2007 away. I expect 2009 to continue in this tradition. I'm sorry for those of you it sucked for, and happy for those of you who ended up getting things you wanted from it.

I hope your celebrations are fun, and the coming year kind to you all.

Sun, 28 Dec 2008 21:52:46 GMT

Well, we're home. Wisconsin was endured, some lovely parts and some parts that were exactly what one would expect of being stuck inside a house with in-laws, including a 4 month old baby. By the end, I took to just occasionally walking upstairs and reading in the bedroom because I simply could not handle the TV anymore.

But now I'm home, and I'm weirdly fretful, and I'm hoping a good clean tomorrow and maybe a couple adventures during the off week will resettle me. On the one hand, I'm feeling isolated, but on the other hand I'm feeling exceptionally short-fused which are not two great tastes that go great together.

I imagine I'll figure something out. Or maybe just do a lot of anxiety baking and cat-reassuring.

Tue, 23 Dec 2008 13:20:41 GMT

Wisconsin-wards! (back sunday)

Be well, whatever you are or aren't celebrating.

Sun, 21 Dec 2008 21:22:54 GMT

Some days are "Get off my damn lawn" days. Today is one of them.

Mind you, I don't have a lawn, and I might not even care if I did. But I'm just plain cross. Some of it, I admit, might be jealousy. Some of it is certainly restlessness. I did just walk down to the corner store to spend 4.75 on a half-gallon of milk and a small thing of orange juice, and while I'm sure it should have helped, it just made me cross at the people who don't shovel their sidewalks.

Part of it has been seething since the Illuminations tour, (even though Chile couldn't make it, I still had a whole lot of fun). But the tour began with some damn hipster asking the bus to wait to take off because their friends would be there any second. I don't think I could ever do that, and I certainly couldn't ever ask someone else to do it. And it must be a little bit awesome to go through life with that sort of assurance of not having to worry about inconveniencing strangers.

I'm also feeling like I should remember to give myself some emotional distance from LJ, particularly when I'm all on edge about the upcoming travel to WI. On the one hand, I love seeing my name and someone saying "Thanks for the card", on the other hand, there's so much about the human experience that I feel like I'm just not understanding and the more I see proof of that, the more estranged I feel. (I'm not being cryptic in hopes of someone asking more, I just can't figure out a non-offensive way to be more specific.)

Add onto that all sorts of angry feelings towards one of my brothers that I just shouldn't voice, and the realization that no one's going to see my holiday decorations because(and?) it's been a gazillion years since anyone came to my house (which is in part totally understandable because it's the holidays, and is in part not true because Mech came over, and in part totally due to my not wanting to make plans until I feel like I've acclimated to working), and that I want to be knitting, but actually knitting is just not holding my interest and you have one crankypanted lady.

Harvard gives me the week between Christmas and New Year's off. I feel I should do something bold and adventurous and social with it. Any suggestions? (My current plans are to try to find a material to line my curtains with to make them slightly more thermal/light blocking and to maybe try to figure out how the kitchenaid mixer pasta attachment works)