And Slower . . . And Slower . . .
Before my parents moved (literally, right out from under me), all was hectic strength/endurance tests and sorting through the junk they claimed was mine. Since they've moved, I've been in a haze. I've been like a clockwork ballerina whose spring is just . . . about . . . run . . . down. And in my mind-fog, things have slipped away from me.
I didn't get to see doctorellisdee during his short visit here. I managed to talk to him, and I wanted so badly to see him, and he and I had a free evening in common, but I couldn't find the words to say that I wanted to talk to him, maybe cuddle a bit with one of the few fellow artists that I know. I heard a nasty voice in my head, assuring me that he wouldn't want to see just me, his friend-hangouts would have to all be group ones. So I half-heartedly promised to come to his Basebrawl thing, knowing I might not be able to. I wasn't able to. Well, someday I'll have money coming out my ears and will fly or drive or ride a horse to wherever-the-hell he happens to be, right? Right? There's that damn optimism again. Realizing I need to trade some of my baseless optimism in for realism or the sarcastic pessimism that everybody else seems to have in droves is a topic for a whole 'nother entry, I think.
I think I missed my chance to give my Bjork tickets to someone who'd appreciate them. Otto hasn't responded to my email trying to figure out how to get them to him, since I couldn't manage to lug myself outside during the weekend he was in my city to move. Well, maybe he'll respond to this post.
I missed a chance to make last weekend an ENTIRE weekend of fun with zantiphia, livingdeath, and joker4gotham. I adored Friday night, and the parts of Saturday when lack of sleep didn't make me unbearably cranky. The best was the impulse-drive with them. We have to get alcohol! Damn, that store didn't have the rightest kind! We have to go to more liquor stores, until we get the rightest kind! We have to get greasy meat! We have to get ice cream! Really, I didn't give a fuck about finally tumbling up to my apt. and enjoying all these essentials . . . the adventure was in the getting of them. But I should've called them on Sunday, and I didn't. No good reason why.
I've missed chances to go to the beach with Ezra, to make plans/do things with the residents of Charmdown Park (with two of them, at least, experience tells me that nothing will happen unless you grab them by their cybernetic dress-fronts and scream an exact plan of when a hangout will occur), to bike with local friends, to do other active & summery things.
And these are just the social slip-ups. I don't want to think of the opportunities I've missed for employment by not being aggressive lately, but it's a sure thing that some of my slowness is due to how raggedly awful that's going. And when I talked to a friend recently, he (again) made it sound like a random job is something you can get as easy as tripping over a curb. I wish. I've applied to plenty of random jobs, and lots that I'm qualified/overqualified for. Temping? I am temping, but my agencies' assignments are high-paying but spotty. I worked the better part of two weeks and a weekend this month, which is almost more than the rest of the summer put together. I don't want to go back to the crappy admin assistant temp agency. They'll make me an office drone and send me out to thankless busywork tasks for just a hair over minimum wage in places that are tough to get to, sans car.
BiCamp, though, that's a good thing. Ezra's gonna be there. fishoutawata is gonna be there. beetiger is gonna be there. user is gonna be there. I'm going to make a wish on the money fairy to let zantiphia be there, since some awful person she lives with stole her BiCamp-registration money. (Come to think of it, I do have an extra $15 this week! Want it, Z?) The ever-lovely Bob's gonna be there. I'm still hoping that tikvah, seeliefey, postvixen, postrodent, bunnygoth, cabaretgirl, and crownofspoons (and his posse, whose LJ's I very much enjoy reading) will come to BiCamp, too, but I know it's gonna be lots and lots and lots of fun, regardless.
I'm leading an Expotition To Find Beetiger's Libido. In my mind, I see a bunch of us doing a short walk into the woods, carrying Necessary Implements for the task at hand like kazoos and pipecleaners. The image makes me giggle, I hope it comes off as silly and lighthearted as I'm conceiving.
I think I miss the Idiot Picnic with such ferocity, that I'm hoping BiCamp will be rip-roaringly fun enough to cover two itches: my Idiot Picnic itch and my BiCamp itch. I wish we could have more BiCamp time. Would Julius be willing to take off both of the workdays around Labor Day? Ooooooh, I should ask. And maybe plan a Fall gathering of Idiots and other New Yawkers I don't get to see as often as I wanna.
Just the act of writing has cheered me and wound my key tighter. I must remember one word these-a-days: act.
And for Julius' sanity, I should rephrase that tomorrow to the word: clean. I hate this dusty, dish-filled sty as much as he does.
I really wish I could see this Henrietta that bunnygoth is so fond of, but I'm booked to go see grandma again tomorrow. Ah, well.
I didn't get to see doctorellisdee during his short visit here. I managed to talk to him, and I wanted so badly to see him, and he and I had a free evening in common, but I couldn't find the words to say that I wanted to talk to him, maybe cuddle a bit with one of the few fellow artists that I know. I heard a nasty voice in my head, assuring me that he wouldn't want to see just me, his friend-hangouts would have to all be group ones. So I half-heartedly promised to come to his Basebrawl thing, knowing I might not be able to. I wasn't able to. Well, someday I'll have money coming out my ears and will fly or drive or ride a horse to wherever-the-hell he happens to be, right? Right? There's that damn optimism again. Realizing I need to trade some of my baseless optimism in for realism or the sarcastic pessimism that everybody else seems to have in droves is a topic for a whole 'nother entry, I think.
I think I missed my chance to give my Bjork tickets to someone who'd appreciate them. Otto hasn't responded to my email trying to figure out how to get them to him, since I couldn't manage to lug myself outside during the weekend he was in my city to move. Well, maybe he'll respond to this post.
I missed a chance to make last weekend an ENTIRE weekend of fun with zantiphia, livingdeath, and joker4gotham. I adored Friday night, and the parts of Saturday when lack of sleep didn't make me unbearably cranky. The best was the impulse-drive with them. We have to get alcohol! Damn, that store didn't have the rightest kind! We have to go to more liquor stores, until we get the rightest kind! We have to get greasy meat! We have to get ice cream! Really, I didn't give a fuck about finally tumbling up to my apt. and enjoying all these essentials . . . the adventure was in the getting of them. But I should've called them on Sunday, and I didn't. No good reason why.
I've missed chances to go to the beach with Ezra, to make plans/do things with the residents of Charmdown Park (with two of them, at least, experience tells me that nothing will happen unless you grab them by their cybernetic dress-fronts and scream an exact plan of when a hangout will occur), to bike with local friends, to do other active & summery things.
And these are just the social slip-ups. I don't want to think of the opportunities I've missed for employment by not being aggressive lately, but it's a sure thing that some of my slowness is due to how raggedly awful that's going. And when I talked to a friend recently, he (again) made it sound like a random job is something you can get as easy as tripping over a curb. I wish. I've applied to plenty of random jobs, and lots that I'm qualified/overqualified for. Temping? I am temping, but my agencies' assignments are high-paying but spotty. I worked the better part of two weeks and a weekend this month, which is almost more than the rest of the summer put together. I don't want to go back to the crappy admin assistant temp agency. They'll make me an office drone and send me out to thankless busywork tasks for just a hair over minimum wage in places that are tough to get to, sans car.
BiCamp, though, that's a good thing. Ezra's gonna be there. fishoutawata is gonna be there. beetiger is gonna be there. user is gonna be there. I'm going to make a wish on the money fairy to let zantiphia be there, since some awful person she lives with stole her BiCamp-registration money. (Come to think of it, I do have an extra $15 this week! Want it, Z?) The ever-lovely Bob's gonna be there. I'm still hoping that tikvah, seeliefey, postvixen, postrodent, bunnygoth, cabaretgirl, and crownofspoons (and his posse, whose LJ's I very much enjoy reading) will come to BiCamp, too, but I know it's gonna be lots and lots and lots of fun, regardless.
I'm leading an Expotition To Find Beetiger's Libido. In my mind, I see a bunch of us doing a short walk into the woods, carrying Necessary Implements for the task at hand like kazoos and pipecleaners. The image makes me giggle, I hope it comes off as silly and lighthearted as I'm conceiving.
I think I miss the Idiot Picnic with such ferocity, that I'm hoping BiCamp will be rip-roaringly fun enough to cover two itches: my Idiot Picnic itch and my BiCamp itch. I wish we could have more BiCamp time. Would Julius be willing to take off both of the workdays around Labor Day? Ooooooh, I should ask. And maybe plan a Fall gathering of Idiots and other New Yawkers I don't get to see as often as I wanna.
Just the act of writing has cheered me and wound my key tighter. I must remember one word these-a-days: act.
And for Julius' sanity, I should rephrase that tomorrow to the word: clean. I hate this dusty, dish-filled sty as much as he does.
I really wish I could see this Henrietta that bunnygoth is so fond of, but I'm booked to go see grandma again tomorrow. Ah, well.