The guy who waited several months and then removed the hornet's nest once they'd all gone.
I have been rearranging my deck chairs lately, though I am making some progress on life goals. I have re-started properly following Weight Watchers, journaling my points and considering the food I eat more carefully. (The Kripalu 'Rain Forest' bars millari made the other day present a challenge.) I have watched quite a bit of TV lately, though. Which isn't much for life growth, but was fun, so I shan't regret it.
Today was spent taking care of niggling things about the house, so now the front porch is clear, the big AC is finally out of the window, the hornet's nest is removed (and the window properly closed this time.) I'm even posting to my LJ (as you can plainly see.)
I had a surprisingly helpful conversation with a customer last week, who was asking about graphic novels because she wanted to teach a class. She turns out to teach at HCC, and had helpful advice on seeking work there, though I wish she'd written her name down as well as the other stuff. She said I could drop her name, but since I don't remember it, I'm feeling like I can't actually do it. It's purely a matter of me finding an excuse not to take a risk where I care about the consequences of failing, and I must shake it.
I have moments of... not regretting, exactly, but mourning my decision to split up with millari. Like when I notice the absence of my wedding ring on my left hand, or today, when we were changing the sheets, and she perfectly interpreted my thinking, based on my facial expression.
I think I shall sign up for Yuletide this year. If I limit myself to a few fun fandoms (Leverage, Burn Notice, maybe Chuck), I think I can summon the wherewithal to squeeze out 1000 words. And I'll be happy about it.
Anyway, I've spent more than my alloted half hour, so to bed!
P.S. I have been meaning to mention here for at least a week: I am, apparently, a SQUARE, a total L7. Recently, the show Glee did a version of the Rocky Horror Picture Show, and I read a great essay (that I can't find now, alas) that explained exactly why it was a travesty. Apparently, Glee took out the word transsexual from the songs, and had a girl play Frank N. Furter, along with some other changes (perhaps removing the cannibalism?) that, this person claimed, completely flipped the point of the story, which is that, in that house, the normal, clean-cut, white-bread heterosexuals (like me) are the outsiders who don't fit in, and over the course of the movie, they discover that, much as they deny it, they actually kind of like Frank N. Furter's way of life.
I grew up with constant reminders that I was an outsider, a weirdo who didn't fit in, so I can forget all the ways in which I so very 'establishment'. "Still," I thought, "Brad is definitely not a gamer, would never take comics seriously, and probably never actually enjoyed learning anything. I'm may not be Frank, or Rocky, but I'm not Brad." And then, a friend posted THIS to her journal, a very saucy song by a man in drag about he can't wait to have penis surgically transformed into a vagina. I watched and listened, agog, feeling a bit like that moment in Buckaroo Banzai when Christopher Lloyd proclaims: "It's not my damn planet", and finally accepted the truth:
Hi, my name's Brad and I'm quite ordinary and mainstream. Welcome to my blog. :)
Today was spent taking care of niggling things about the house, so now the front porch is clear, the big AC is finally out of the window, the hornet's nest is removed (and the window properly closed this time.) I'm even posting to my LJ (as you can plainly see.)
I had a surprisingly helpful conversation with a customer last week, who was asking about graphic novels because she wanted to teach a class. She turns out to teach at HCC, and had helpful advice on seeking work there, though I wish she'd written her name down as well as the other stuff. She said I could drop her name, but since I don't remember it, I'm feeling like I can't actually do it. It's purely a matter of me finding an excuse not to take a risk where I care about the consequences of failing, and I must shake it.
I have moments of... not regretting, exactly, but mourning my decision to split up with millari. Like when I notice the absence of my wedding ring on my left hand, or today, when we were changing the sheets, and she perfectly interpreted my thinking, based on my facial expression.
I think I shall sign up for Yuletide this year. If I limit myself to a few fun fandoms (Leverage, Burn Notice, maybe Chuck), I think I can summon the wherewithal to squeeze out 1000 words. And I'll be happy about it.
Anyway, I've spent more than my alloted half hour, so to bed!
P.S. I have been meaning to mention here for at least a week: I am, apparently, a SQUARE, a total L7. Recently, the show Glee did a version of the Rocky Horror Picture Show, and I read a great essay (that I can't find now, alas) that explained exactly why it was a travesty. Apparently, Glee took out the word transsexual from the songs, and had a girl play Frank N. Furter, along with some other changes (perhaps removing the cannibalism?) that, this person claimed, completely flipped the point of the story, which is that, in that house, the normal, clean-cut, white-bread heterosexuals (like me) are the outsiders who don't fit in, and over the course of the movie, they discover that, much as they deny it, they actually kind of like Frank N. Furter's way of life.
I grew up with constant reminders that I was an outsider, a weirdo who didn't fit in, so I can forget all the ways in which I so very 'establishment'. "Still," I thought, "Brad is definitely not a gamer, would never take comics seriously, and probably never actually enjoyed learning anything. I'm may not be Frank, or Rocky, but I'm not Brad." And then, a friend posted THIS to her journal, a very saucy song by a man in drag about he can't wait to have penis surgically transformed into a vagina. I watched and listened, agog, feeling a bit like that moment in Buckaroo Banzai when Christopher Lloyd proclaims: "It's not my damn planet", and finally accepted the truth:
Hi, my name's Brad and I'm quite ordinary and mainstream. Welcome to my blog. :)