straightening things out

I’m not really much of a “girlie” girl. I’m not into soft colors, lots of makeup, fussy hair, none of that.

I am much more like Hilda; free-spirited, comfortable in my own skin (most of the time), a little awkward, and a little on the chubby side.

Hilda is classic pin-up and, even though she’s a fictional character, she’s a hero in my world.

But I digress…

Lancelot and I got things worked out. Talking, communicating really, is the key to any relationship, be it romantic or professional. We both agreed that texting is often the problem with us. Work is being done, by both of us. I am quite optimistic.

The other bit of straightening out has to do solely with me.

I love this haircut and I love the contrast between the dark purple and the blonde bangs. The thing that was making me unhappy was I have yet to find a hair product that would spike up the back and straighten out the bangs, and actually last all day. I had to resort to drastic measures and purchase a flat iron. I adore it. I think the results are quite lovely.

I’m still working to finish the purple shawl. I hope to have that done yet this week so that next week I can work on Lancelot’s hat while we’re on vacation together. We do now have plans to take a trip and stay at what looks to be a very romantic little B&B. I can’t wait.


full disclosure

Always be ashamed of throwing temper tantrums that are 100% entirely unnecessary. Always.

So the tantrum happened Saturday night, the first night of the vacation, and things went downhill pretty quick and in an entirely unpleasant yet spectacular way. I won’t go into details but suffice to say I am not proud of the way I behaved. In spite of things dragging on for FOUR INSANELY LONG AND PAINFUL DAYS, there were some fun times.

all I could eat chocolate chip pancakes at McFarlain’s… of which I ate one pancake
cutest Mom ever and I at the Dolly Parton Stampede dinner show… where you eat everything with your hands
Skeeter, the best part of said show
a chump in the mist at Branson Landing

The ABBA Tribute show was awesome and the shopping was phenomenal. Mom got me a gorgeous purple lace shirt that I’m wearing today, something I would never have imagined I could or should wear.

Lancelot and I have since made up and I think Mom and I are back to being ok. Communication seems to be an issue for me right now which is weird given that I’m usually pretty good at it. But no one is perfect and all I can do is try harder.

Oh, also, we had the first meeting to discuss the India trip today. I am excited and terrified all at once. I’ll be on a plane for 14 hours all at once. I will likely have no choice but to pee. Heaven help me.

when moments last too long

I need a damn vacation in the worst way. Thank dog I only have a few hours left of today and then tomorrow before I hit the open road with Mom. My anxiety has been so crazy bad lately that I swear I can feel my hair growing.

Work has been stressful, totally. August is always hectic and it’s bleeding into September a bit. And while I’m enjoying the new office it is a bit isolated. It is finally all the way setup now, and that’s good.

It’s comfortable and very much me.

Part of my trouble is still physical pain. My shoulder is bothering me and now my hands are giving me problems. I’m fairly sure that the increased knitting isn’t helping those, but it is helping my anxiety so it’s worth it.

I’m still feeling way needier than I know I should. Because of my spectacularly shitty history with the male gender of the human species I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. Like I expect him to just spontaneously decide to leave me.

He’s not going anywhere. Breathe. It’s going to be alright. He loves me.

He told me to repeat that to myself when I start to get worked up. That was quite possibly the most helpful thing anyone has said all day.

Tomorrow night he’s coming to have dinner at the house. I’m going to cook for us and he’ll get to meet Mom and the boys. I’m ridiculously excited about this.

To help with the excitement I’m eating cookies. If you’ll excuse me I need to go finish the package.

when the mentals strike

I like to think that I’m in a reasonably good place with my mental health recovery process. I’m still working at the same place I have been since the start of this, I get up and go to work every day, I pay my bills, I maintain relationships with my family and friends, and I do a reasonable job of taking care of myself. But some days, some days it really just doesn’t pay to chew through the fucking leather restraints.

Let me set the scene…

Monday is Humira injection day. It’s certainly not a terrible thing but I always have a small reaction at the injection site. It itches like holy hell for a little while and then the area stays kind of hard for another day. Not unbearable but not exciting either. Add to that a delightfully large and unpleasant cyst in a particularly unpleasant place. And rain. We’re getting enough rain right now that I’m honestly considering building an Ark.

Yesterday morning I started getting texts from my “friend” on campus at 6:30am saying he needed help with something. I put him off but FFS, I do not like starting my day by being harassed like that. Besides, I had a rotten data collection project to get done for my boss.

Then the emails from the particularly needy faculty member started flooding in and I just wanted to jump through the computer and give her a high five. In the forehead. With a metal folding chair.

So by the time I got to talk to Lancelot at lunch my anxiety was already through the motherfucking roof. I was hyper aware of every word, every nuance of tone of voice, all of the reactions to what I said. I hate being like that. HATE IT. Which of course meant that I “read” something that wasn’t there. And then he fell asleep because it was, after all, time for him to do so.

But I didn’t know that. And so I proceeded to commence with a spectacular freak out. Oh it was so ugly and embarrassing…

I was able to talk to him for a few minutes last night before he left for work and, as any sane and rational human being would have pointed out to my mental ass, he was confused as hell but not upset with me.

I absolutely hate being this way.

In other news…

The hat for Mom is coming along nicely. I have the ribbing and the garter section done, should start the pattern rows tonight. The problem is that the yarn she picked is dark blue and purple with black. It is definitely not something I can work on when the light is poor. I am hoping it will be done by the time we leave for vacation on Saturday. Not that I think she needs a wool hat just yet, more just that I’d like to finish it.

this is almost embarassing

I haven’t actually been doing much digitally after work at all these days, mostly because I’ve been out living a life. A life worth living, as though who know DBT would know. It’s good, really good. I’m creating myself, well and truly, and quite enjoying it.

I’ve done a few glass classes, will be doing another next Tuesday, I finished sewing the skirt I was making, redecorated parts of my bedroom, and installed a new shower head in my bathroom.

Tomorrow I start taking Humira for my skin issues and in November I’m going to India for work. Life has not been boring. Life has been the kind of busy that I find healthy and enjoyable.

glass vase project
hat I embellished for my July road trip
blue Batik print wrap skirt
cutest babies in the world

Aside from being at the end of my rope with the skin stuff I’m in excellent health. I still love my job. My mom is the best. And I have the most amazing little orange boyfriends ever.

Life is good.

entirely unfaithful

I’m wearing fat jeans today. There is no body shaming here; I’ve been a fat girl for a long time. These are not the jeans I seek.

I actually said “no thank you” to a donut this morning. It was probably chocolate, I didn’t even look. I ate a salad, a banana, a yogurt thingy, and some tiny oranges and grapes for lunch. I’m going on a trip this summer for a work conference and I have some really cute summer clothes that currently would not fit on my fat ass.

I want to cheat on this diet like I’m currently hooked up with Danny DeVito and Matt Damon is knocking on my front door.

What I am cheating on are my knitting projects, all FOUR of them. This is so unlike me. Well, it’s unlike the “today” me. It’s totally like the “2006” version of me.

I have that cool triangle scarf going, or at least I did until Eric grabbed the yarn in his little kitty mouth and broke it. Nothing horrible, totally workable, but it made me fall out of love with it.

I have that super neat looking beaded shawl in the works, but having to stop at the end of every other row to use a tiny crochet hook and put a bead on is making progress kind of like using an Ez-Bake Oven to crank out a wedding cake to feed 500 guests.

There’s the awesome circular vest that I haven’t shown y’all yet.

It’s way bigger than that now and the colors are a million times more amazing. But now it’s big enough that I need to start the collar which means deciding what color yarn to use. Plus, provisional cast on. Not interesting. But I totally want this done because it’s beautiful.

And that leaves the last project, the one that I might work on today. Maybe.

Yes, that’s a washcloth. I have roughly 142, 321, 796 of these already. I must have one more.

Hmm, decisions, decisions…

my body hates me, the whole damn thing

Taking the week before my surgery off work to get stuff done and ready for Christmas has proven to be a really good idea. I’ve made some amazing progress with making gifts, I’ve had time to suffer through a rotten ass cold, and I went for my first mammogram.

And then my second mammogram.

And then a follow up ultrasound because something doesn’t look right.

And now tomorrow I’ll be having a needle biopsy done. On the left side. Same as the ovary. (also the same side that has a purple and green Celtic butterfly tattoo, but I digress)

I’m trying to stay positive about this, I really am. But honestly, it really does feel like my whole body is hell bent on making me pay for sins I committed as a much younger person. I am not at all amused.

On the upside, the mammogram docs are trying to coordinate things with the oncology doc that will be taking out the ovary so that just in case I need two surgeries I can have both done at the same time. A TWO-FER!!!

Still not amused.

For what it’s worth, I will never EVER go on vacation again.

let me recap for you

I’ve been meaning to do this for, well, about a week now. These are some of the photo highlights from my vacation.

finished project
Garth, aka “white toes”
crazy yummy
Eric the Red
I don’t do “normal”
Peacock jewelry for Wendy
Pretty new necklace for me

It was great to have time to just hang out. I finished 3 wash cloths, a shawl, a pot holder, the jewelry you see here plus some other stuff, whipped up a fresh batch of facial scrub, and a bunch of other creative bits. I needed that to recharge.

It’s been good being back at work this week though. I do miss my routines when I’m gone from the office for too long. Plus I have a ton of friends at work. Maybe next time I won’t go so long between breaks.

so far so fabulous

I’m sitting here trying to think of all the wonderful things I’ve done in the last few days. I’m not sure I’m going to remember all of them.

  • farmer’s market
  • took my grandmother to lunch
  • changed out the boring hardware on my dresser with kick-ass butterfly knobs
  • ran a METRIC TON of errands
  • made salsa again
  • made some beautiful jewelry
  • made a funky wreath for my door
  • got my hair done
  • found a really cool new second-hand clothing boutique that carries my size
  • signed up for a limited edition modeling gig that pays off with a store discount
  • rolled around on the floor with the kittens like an idiot
  • signed up to take an art class
  • ate fresh figs for the first time and then made a killer little dessert with them
  • did a bunch of other random stuff around the house

I’ve been off work since Saturday. At this rate I’m going to take over the world sometime around lunch tomorrow. But truly, this is my kind of vacation. And I’m feeling amazing.

staring down the barrel of a week off work

You can ask anyone who knows me that I don’t often take time off work. It’s not that my work means that much to me, more that I know I do better with the structure that going to work for 9 hours every day brings. And I do actually love what I do, so that helps. But anyway, more often than not the little HR system sends me a nastygram every few months telling me I’ve got so much vacation time waiting to use that I’m going to stop earning any more.

Well hell.

Part of my dilemma is that I mostly hate to travel. Flying is The Suck and driving Takes Forever. I will say that I prefer to drive because then I’m on my own schedule and I can take as much of my stuff with as I want and I can use a real restroom. I am 41 years old and have yet to use the loo in an airplane. Rather proud of that, actually.

Anyway, traveling with people is much more interesting but it still involves packing and the actual travel and then sleeping in a strange bed and the whole Being Away From Home nonsense.

It’s just not often my thing, ya dig?

So I’ve taken the entirety of next week off work but I don’t really plan to go anywhere. I much prefer to Staycation. I fully intend to be lazy, do some things around the house, maybe do a little shopping, and mostly just breathe. Oh, and knit.

I do think it’s super important to take time away from the daily grind and to recharge the ol’ batteries. If we don’t do that, and put ourselves first now and then, we end up with nothing left to give anyone else.

One of the hardest lessons I’ve had to learn is that even though my brain is fully capable to running for days on end with next to no food or sleep when I’m not taking my meds and that kind of feels like flying and being on top of the world, it’s really the worst thing ever.

Anyone who tells you that they miss being manic is delusional. Mania is a liar, worse than any cheating lover. For as high as you go you come crashing, hurtling, down twice as fast and far. The end is awful. And it’s not worth a single minute of it.

That’s why next week I will be going to bed at normal hours, eating healthy and wholesome food, and taking care of myself. I need to punch my own damn reset button every now and again.