The state of the muse.
Hello, LJ friends! I've been reading posts here but not contributing much, and I figured that I shouldn't let the month end without one more post.
I am... not okay. I mean, in a macro sense I am fine. There's no huge drama. I'm fed, clothed, housed, loved, in possession of cuddly cats and plenty of books. But between being sick for weeks with The Cold that's going around - I am mostly better now, apart from my voice still being a bit odd when speaking and truly ghastly when trying to sing, much to my disgust yesterday when I was a horrible croak beside Groffsauce's sublime voice in Hamilton as I was driving along - and Having Contractors here, which is one of my least favorite things in the world, I'm using up a ton of energy just to keep pushing ahead. Plus, my father was ill again, and I had to step in to be sure he got the care he needed, as my parents are getting a bit less reliable in making good medical choices. I am an excellent coper in general, but it still takes a ton of work and spoons when I'm feeling this under siege emotionally and physically.
(Contractors are the worst, and when you couple my desire to have distinct boundaries of money, time, and space with the undeniable knowledge that all of their estimates are going to be wildly inaccurate and unable to be counted on, it's just a nightmare for me. I feel trampled upon, even though they're not doing it on purpose. I do a lot of mindful breathing and reminding myself that I really do want them to fix my house and that I would ultimately be even more unhappy if I just left home with a backpack in the dark of night to travel Europe by rail for the next six months. Probably.)
And then there's fandom, which is hard for me right now. I'm missing Glee like an ache I can't get rid of, and it isn't just Kurt and Blaine but all of it: the characters, the music, the twisted humor, the breathtaking emotions. Off and on I've been sketching out a season seven (to take place after Kurt, Blaine, and Rachel go back to NYC after their semester in Ohio) with plot arcs, guest stars, and even songs for each episode, and it's both very satisfying and incredibly sad for me. I've made a playlist on my iTunes of the songs for the season, and I want Glee versions so much, and I want to see the characters on my screen again, and I just can't. It can't happen. It hurts. Fandom is an escape for me, and it's hard sometimes for me to face it when my very real continuing squee is tangled up with the loss of something I truly loved.
Also, Tumblr as a platform is so terrible for communicating, and apparently only getting worse, and even though I check in most days I can go for weeks there without actually talking to anyone, just reblogging and watching shiny things pass by on my dash. I like talking. I like connecting. I like give and take, not take and regurgitate.
So I'm dipping in and out as it suits me and filling up my time with other things. I'm trying to make more of an effort to see friends face to face this fall after a busy summer for us all. I'm reading. I'm organizing my life and house. I'm very wrapped up in the museling, who is maturing into all sorts of complicated new emotions he needs help sorting out. I'm involved in another diversity seminar this year and in the rest of my life am talking too much about politics but care too much to stay silent.
But beyond the season seven sketches, I'm not really writing, and that is a sure sign that I'm not okay. I need to fix that.
Where's my magic wand?
I am... not okay. I mean, in a macro sense I am fine. There's no huge drama. I'm fed, clothed, housed, loved, in possession of cuddly cats and plenty of books. But between being sick for weeks with The Cold that's going around - I am mostly better now, apart from my voice still being a bit odd when speaking and truly ghastly when trying to sing, much to my disgust yesterday when I was a horrible croak beside Groffsauce's sublime voice in Hamilton as I was driving along - and Having Contractors here, which is one of my least favorite things in the world, I'm using up a ton of energy just to keep pushing ahead. Plus, my father was ill again, and I had to step in to be sure he got the care he needed, as my parents are getting a bit less reliable in making good medical choices. I am an excellent coper in general, but it still takes a ton of work and spoons when I'm feeling this under siege emotionally and physically.
(Contractors are the worst, and when you couple my desire to have distinct boundaries of money, time, and space with the undeniable knowledge that all of their estimates are going to be wildly inaccurate and unable to be counted on, it's just a nightmare for me. I feel trampled upon, even though they're not doing it on purpose. I do a lot of mindful breathing and reminding myself that I really do want them to fix my house and that I would ultimately be even more unhappy if I just left home with a backpack in the dark of night to travel Europe by rail for the next six months. Probably.)
And then there's fandom, which is hard for me right now. I'm missing Glee like an ache I can't get rid of, and it isn't just Kurt and Blaine but all of it: the characters, the music, the twisted humor, the breathtaking emotions. Off and on I've been sketching out a season seven (to take place after Kurt, Blaine, and Rachel go back to NYC after their semester in Ohio) with plot arcs, guest stars, and even songs for each episode, and it's both very satisfying and incredibly sad for me. I've made a playlist on my iTunes of the songs for the season, and I want Glee versions so much, and I want to see the characters on my screen again, and I just can't. It can't happen. It hurts. Fandom is an escape for me, and it's hard sometimes for me to face it when my very real continuing squee is tangled up with the loss of something I truly loved.
Also, Tumblr as a platform is so terrible for communicating, and apparently only getting worse, and even though I check in most days I can go for weeks there without actually talking to anyone, just reblogging and watching shiny things pass by on my dash. I like talking. I like connecting. I like give and take, not take and regurgitate.
So I'm dipping in and out as it suits me and filling up my time with other things. I'm trying to make more of an effort to see friends face to face this fall after a busy summer for us all. I'm reading. I'm organizing my life and house. I'm very wrapped up in the museling, who is maturing into all sorts of complicated new emotions he needs help sorting out. I'm involved in another diversity seminar this year and in the rest of my life am talking too much about politics but care too much to stay silent.
But beyond the season seven sketches, I'm not really writing, and that is a sure sign that I'm not okay. I need to fix that.
Where's my magic wand?