sausage casing with a difference
I've created my first ever Craigslist post! Go me!
Weirdly, the sausage casing line? Refers to actual good news.
Check it--I cannot, for the love of all I hold dear, find a clean turtleneck ANYWHERE. I know I washed them, but considering I went to bed at three last night (due to boy--and no, no, not the one who left, the one who, to date, HASN'T been the thorn in my side) and got up at eight, my gears aren't exactly meshing together. I finally give up and throw on a flannel shirt over a short-sleeved top, KNOWING I'm going to freeze my bits off, and go on my way to work.
Walk in the door, and on the top of the free-stuph pile is a a woolly algae-green sweater. Nubbed, feels soft, looks good, and without thinking, I grab it. I figure, hey, if it's as small as it looks, I'll keep it, take it home, cut off the sleeves and make another pair of fingerless gloves or something.
Well, I may be doing that anyway, but this is the part where my life gets surreal.
I go into the bathroo. Take off the flannel and the short sleeve. Get ready to crawl into the sweater. Take a moment, as expected, to check the tag on the back.
THE GAP, it says. SIZE M.
Oh, good Lord. I'm INSANE for attempting this. Damn, is there a straight razor in the bathroom, I'll cut off the sleeves now....but oh, it's so damned COLD....
I shrug, figuring, it's not gonna work, I'm already kicking myself over boy issues (no, no, not the one who kept me up last night, the IDIOT I'm currenttly UPSET with), might as well completely go downhill and bitch about my weight.
I pull it on.
It's tight across the shoulders. I basically have to tug the shoulder seems up HARD and, even so, they clock in about three inches, give or take, from my actual shoulders.
I'ts VERY form-fitting.
The body of it curves down over my breasts and then stops. It's basically a middy top.
Here's where my brain falls out--IT FITS. I mean, sure, yeah, it's TIGHT, I'm not gonna be running out and shopping at the Gap for the foreseeable...EVER, but...IT FITS. In the sense that I can walk around wearing this half-top thing and it's keeping my arms warm and I'm not gasping for air.
Oh. My. GODS.
The chicklet HAS lost weight! Who knew! WHOA!
Other news. Currently trying to decide if the evil boy's suggestion to part ways is a good one or not. Yes, I love him. I am, as I have told many people, CRIPPLINGLY unable to unlove once I start. It's been a pattern. To date, the only two people I've been able to completely excise from my heart put me through so much physical and/or emotional abuse that it was a survival gesture to finally stop loving them. And it wasn't easy, even then. Note the finally in that statement.
Down side of things. He's hurting me. He seems unable to, or unwilling to, STOP hurting me. He seems fairly clueless that he has hurt me, when he does, which he's done--and is doing--with frequency.
He's vain. He's insensitive. He's an asshat. He's a butterfly sans any reasonable agenda. He's arrogant, brash, clueless, YOUNG, STUPID...he CAN'T SPELL in a place where text-based communication is all we've got...
...I love him.
....
Us side of things.
...He came back. When I never expected him to, when he had no reason to, when I'd already mourned his passing and held the wake and--mostly--managed to move on. He did come back.
Before the suggestion that we part company, he said that he'd walk through anything, break down my barriers, tear through the barbed-wire fencing, whatever it took, to get back into my heart. Again and again. Until he was back in.
...I love him.
And yeah, puzzles me some that that statement makes both lists.
I literally don't know what to do. I can't seem to detach enough from the idea that he wants to walk away from me to get a good handle on the pros and cons more objectively than I've laid them out here. Kills me that my brain thinks it's reasonable to pull away from him, kill some of the emotional reaction, to get to a point where I can rationally see all the pros and cons of all the pros and cons, and be able to decide whether or NOT I want to leave him at all.
And then I'll have all those miles to cross to get BACK to him if I decide that's what I want to do.
My brain sucks.
And lastly, Free Geekery. Today I walked in and they'd taken my desk. TAKEN MY DESK. It wasn't enough they took the damn computer, now they've taken my desk. Got so pissed that when they opened the doors, I didn't tie up what I was doing back here, I just stayed answering email and gritting my teeth.
When my supervisor came in, I couldn't take it anymore. I turned and asked her, "Are you trying to drive me crazy?"
She looked slightly panicked, and...we honestly talked. About how it bugs me there's no comp in Receiving, and how I feel I'm only able to work that department at 30% efficiency, and how it SUCKS not being able to check email, and how it BITES that now the goddamn DESK is gone...
...and she says, well, really, honestly, the thing is....we need you more in Outreach, if you want to convert over.
...Oh. Really? Oh. ::blinks::
Up side: computer access, obviously. (Slightly) warmer workspace. Access to a phone for calling. Three projects that need to be done, that haven't even been started, because they haven't had the warm bodies to take them on. Being able to start researching/hunting down food/donation/Geek Prom/Geek fair vendors/distributors/gifts/auction items early.
Possibility of getting a part-time gig through Linden Labs to pay for what the Geek's not going to be paying me....if that works out.
Down side: Receiving's going to fall apart without me. It's not ego, it's going to happen. My baby's going to suffer. Also, they don't pay my intern shifts, just the Receiving ones. So no money from the Geek for the foreseeable...ever.
...On the other hand, maybe it's finally time to "detach with love", and let them go their own way, and continue helping out the org that I find I still care for.
A few more shots I tracked down and uploaded. These are of the new treehouse, which is now down for an actual home. Gad, how conventional.
This is the extorior of the new tree. Here's a shot of one side of the interior.
This is the Space Princess, a three-pod structure currently sitting 300 meters above the house--and the new treehouse before it--as a safehouse structure for my pets.
Why I love the insanely high-prim silver throne in the Princess. For anyone who doesn't know, prims are the building blocks of SL--'prim' stands for 'primitive', as in, one simple specific shape, which can then be added to other simple shapes, enlarged, resized, and tortured into OTHER shapes, to make...well, virtaally anything, actually.
And yes, that's me in the cheongsam.
This is the second pod of the Princess. And me again.
Finally, a shot of me standing in my beloved club, the Enigma, before the rsstructure. I still desperately miss those damned curving ramps. If I ever build my own home from scratch? I'm bugging hank_riker to give me one of them for the transit to the upper level.
Yeah, I took all of these on the same day.
And that's it for the update. Still boggling over the fact I'm wearing--even tight and as a middy top--a Gap-made medium-sized sweater. Still boggling over the evil boyness. Still boggling over the fact that my noble neko boy still loves me in spite of. Quite a lot of everything, actually. Damn.
Weirdly, the sausage casing line? Refers to actual good news.
Check it--I cannot, for the love of all I hold dear, find a clean turtleneck ANYWHERE. I know I washed them, but considering I went to bed at three last night (due to boy--and no, no, not the one who left, the one who, to date, HASN'T been the thorn in my side) and got up at eight, my gears aren't exactly meshing together. I finally give up and throw on a flannel shirt over a short-sleeved top, KNOWING I'm going to freeze my bits off, and go on my way to work.
Walk in the door, and on the top of the free-stuph pile is a a woolly algae-green sweater. Nubbed, feels soft, looks good, and without thinking, I grab it. I figure, hey, if it's as small as it looks, I'll keep it, take it home, cut off the sleeves and make another pair of fingerless gloves or something.
Well, I may be doing that anyway, but this is the part where my life gets surreal.
I go into the bathroo. Take off the flannel and the short sleeve. Get ready to crawl into the sweater. Take a moment, as expected, to check the tag on the back.
THE GAP, it says. SIZE M.
Oh, good Lord. I'm INSANE for attempting this. Damn, is there a straight razor in the bathroom, I'll cut off the sleeves now....but oh, it's so damned COLD....
I shrug, figuring, it's not gonna work, I'm already kicking myself over boy issues (no, no, not the one who kept me up last night, the IDIOT I'm currenttly UPSET with), might as well completely go downhill and bitch about my weight.
I pull it on.
It's tight across the shoulders. I basically have to tug the shoulder seems up HARD and, even so, they clock in about three inches, give or take, from my actual shoulders.
I'ts VERY form-fitting.
The body of it curves down over my breasts and then stops. It's basically a middy top.
Here's where my brain falls out--IT FITS. I mean, sure, yeah, it's TIGHT, I'm not gonna be running out and shopping at the Gap for the foreseeable...EVER, but...IT FITS. In the sense that I can walk around wearing this half-top thing and it's keeping my arms warm and I'm not gasping for air.
Oh. My. GODS.
The chicklet HAS lost weight! Who knew! WHOA!
Other news. Currently trying to decide if the evil boy's suggestion to part ways is a good one or not. Yes, I love him. I am, as I have told many people, CRIPPLINGLY unable to unlove once I start. It's been a pattern. To date, the only two people I've been able to completely excise from my heart put me through so much physical and/or emotional abuse that it was a survival gesture to finally stop loving them. And it wasn't easy, even then. Note the finally in that statement.
Down side of things. He's hurting me. He seems unable to, or unwilling to, STOP hurting me. He seems fairly clueless that he has hurt me, when he does, which he's done--and is doing--with frequency.
He's vain. He's insensitive. He's an asshat. He's a butterfly sans any reasonable agenda. He's arrogant, brash, clueless, YOUNG, STUPID...he CAN'T SPELL in a place where text-based communication is all we've got...
...I love him.
....
Us side of things.
...He came back. When I never expected him to, when he had no reason to, when I'd already mourned his passing and held the wake and--mostly--managed to move on. He did come back.
Before the suggestion that we part company, he said that he'd walk through anything, break down my barriers, tear through the barbed-wire fencing, whatever it took, to get back into my heart. Again and again. Until he was back in.
...I love him.
And yeah, puzzles me some that that statement makes both lists.
I literally don't know what to do. I can't seem to detach enough from the idea that he wants to walk away from me to get a good handle on the pros and cons more objectively than I've laid them out here. Kills me that my brain thinks it's reasonable to pull away from him, kill some of the emotional reaction, to get to a point where I can rationally see all the pros and cons of all the pros and cons, and be able to decide whether or NOT I want to leave him at all.
And then I'll have all those miles to cross to get BACK to him if I decide that's what I want to do.
My brain sucks.
And lastly, Free Geekery. Today I walked in and they'd taken my desk. TAKEN MY DESK. It wasn't enough they took the damn computer, now they've taken my desk. Got so pissed that when they opened the doors, I didn't tie up what I was doing back here, I just stayed answering email and gritting my teeth.
When my supervisor came in, I couldn't take it anymore. I turned and asked her, "Are you trying to drive me crazy?"
She looked slightly panicked, and...we honestly talked. About how it bugs me there's no comp in Receiving, and how I feel I'm only able to work that department at 30% efficiency, and how it SUCKS not being able to check email, and how it BITES that now the goddamn DESK is gone...
...and she says, well, really, honestly, the thing is....we need you more in Outreach, if you want to convert over.
...Oh. Really? Oh. ::blinks::
Up side: computer access, obviously. (Slightly) warmer workspace. Access to a phone for calling. Three projects that need to be done, that haven't even been started, because they haven't had the warm bodies to take them on. Being able to start researching/hunting down food/donation/Geek Prom/Geek fair vendors/distributors/gifts/auction items early.
Possibility of getting a part-time gig through Linden Labs to pay for what the Geek's not going to be paying me....if that works out.
Down side: Receiving's going to fall apart without me. It's not ego, it's going to happen. My baby's going to suffer. Also, they don't pay my intern shifts, just the Receiving ones. So no money from the Geek for the foreseeable...ever.
...On the other hand, maybe it's finally time to "detach with love", and let them go their own way, and continue helping out the org that I find I still care for.
A few more shots I tracked down and uploaded. These are of the new treehouse, which is now down for an actual home. Gad, how conventional.
This is the extorior of the new tree. Here's a shot of one side of the interior.
This is the Space Princess, a three-pod structure currently sitting 300 meters above the house--and the new treehouse before it--as a safehouse structure for my pets.
Why I love the insanely high-prim silver throne in the Princess. For anyone who doesn't know, prims are the building blocks of SL--'prim' stands for 'primitive', as in, one simple specific shape, which can then be added to other simple shapes, enlarged, resized, and tortured into OTHER shapes, to make...well, virtaally anything, actually.
And yes, that's me in the cheongsam.
This is the second pod of the Princess. And me again.
Finally, a shot of me standing in my beloved club, the Enigma, before the rsstructure. I still desperately miss those damned curving ramps. If I ever build my own home from scratch? I'm bugging hank_riker to give me one of them for the transit to the upper level.
Yeah, I took all of these on the same day.
And that's it for the update. Still boggling over the fact I'm wearing--even tight and as a middy top--a Gap-made medium-sized sweater. Still boggling over the evil boyness. Still boggling over the fact that my noble neko boy still loves me in spite of. Quite a lot of everything, actually. Damn.