Weekend not as relaxing as I might have hoped
My weekend was unexpectedly busy with a lot of small social engagement. Each were individually nice, but I'm feeling a bit "like butter scraped over too much bread," and I think I might have hoped for a bit more time to myself -- weird for Captain Extroversion, I know, but it happens.
Friday night I went to a cocktail party hosted by a departing coworker in her 5-bedroom "million"-square-foot professionally decorated, professionally cleaned home. Believe me that if reading magazines and watching television can make you feel that your life is inadequate in comparison to these professionally-crafted mirages, standing in a home like that is 10 times worse. I'm sure it was staged for the party -- there were no toothbrushes or cosmetics on the master bathroom counter, no book by the bedside, not a stitch of clothing out of place, no clutter whatsoever. People don't really live like that -- not without a veritable army of live-in help. Everything was beautifully and warmly decorated, not only with taste and care, but of course the operative money to actually make it happen -- though perhaps what I should envy is the drive to even try. The Year of Zuzu's Petals meditation on the senselessness of envy went right out the window, I tell you! No... no... not really, not entirely, but I did leave the party feeling a little more lack than I felt on the way there.
Later that evening, Jose and Kristen surprised Ian with a Baskin Robbins ice cream cake, which he loves, as an early treat for his birthday which is tomorrow. We retreated to their house to watch a few episodes of "Dexter," and that was largely the highlight of the weekend. We don't see as much of our friends lately as I'd like, and it was nice to get together with them.
Saturday morning I conquered the 50% off sale at Goodwill. Three long-sleeved shirts, and one short-sleeved cute little summer sweater each for slightly less than $2 -- whoo hoo! I'm wearing one of my new shirts today, and I've already received a few compliments on it! I'm kicking myself over passing up two other finds: Hard covers of Harry Potter and The Order of the Phoenix (which we have only in paperback), and one of my favorite books, John Kennedy Toole's, Confederacy of Dunces (which I don't have at all for some reason), each for $1. I thought we had each of those in hard cover already, and I was bummed when I got home to discover that I was wrong about that. Such are the risks when "treasure hunting."
Saturday afternoon turned into way too much effort to coordinate dinner before table-top gaming on Saturday night. Dinner lasted too long due to poor communication and cross-purposed goals, so it was less than satisfying as an entertainment. Then we gamed only for 3 hours, most of which was spent "spinning our wheels in the mud," getting nowhere, which was frustrating. During that time, I shared with some friends in that group my ideas about running something. The reception was underwhelming, in my opinion, consisting largely of non-committal polite nods which took some of the wind out of my sails -- but have not yet entirely squashed the idea. I'm just thinking maybe a superheroes campaign might be more popular as a genre. I love superheroes, and that genre was, in fact, my first love in table-top gaming, so it's not exactly arduous to consider going that direction instead. Overall, Ian and I feeling a lack of easy leisure with our gaming lately, and that's a little disappointing.
Sunday got weird.
My mom is going through a new chapter of grieving for my aunt which is dredging up a lot of other family issues that my mother is confronting in her own heart. Two coworkers of hers mentioned recently that they were abandoned by their mothers, and this clearly is a hot button for my mom. I think it's dredging up guilt for her both as a daughter and a mother. I think if I asked her about it, my mother might deny what I perceive as her rule that to speak negatively of the dead is to fail one's duty of respect to them. I perceive that my mother really canonizes anyone who dies -- all sins are not only forgiven but outright forgotten; the dead never seem to have done a bad thing in their lives. At the same time, my mother inherited her own mother's diaries when my aunt died, and I think that my mother read some things in there which are hard for her to confront. I suspect that she's angry with her own mother, but doesn't know what to do with that. Nana is dead - can't confront her. Aunt Susie is dead, can't commiserate with her. My mother can't even vent about the situation because I think she'd feel guilty about that -- so I see that it's tough for my mom to work through this... Meanwhile, the whole topic understandably conjures up for her feelings of guilt about abandoning me as a teen when she was crazy. She's brought it up three times recently, but clearly feels so uncomfortable even dancing around the topic that any attempt I make to reply in seriousness (even to reassure her that I think she's a good mother) prompts her to wildly change the subject to talk about something so random that I question whether she's losing her mind again... A letter might reassure her; she's big on letters. I feel like this is an important topic, and I should tell her some nice things to her face, however -- but I have to acknowledge that while I feel a letter here is pretty chickenshit, my mother would probably prefer that... Anyway, the visit to her home yesterday, however brief, was uncomfortable and just fucking bizarre in the conversation. I couldn't quite follow where my mother was going since she so obviously felt driven to bring this up, but then would answer any response with an immediate subject change, only to blindside me with a sudden return later.
Here it is Monday, and I feel little rested from the weekend. It's sunny and warm here today, in the 50s, although we expect a little snow overnight if not much. At least I've got a new book to read -- some Forgotten Realms thing about the War of the Spider Queen that one of my gaming buddies put in my hands. I've picked out a new pattern for an afghan I want to knit. Progress not perfection, I guess!
Trace
Friday night I went to a cocktail party hosted by a departing coworker in her 5-bedroom "million"-square-foot professionally decorated, professionally cleaned home. Believe me that if reading magazines and watching television can make you feel that your life is inadequate in comparison to these professionally-crafted mirages, standing in a home like that is 10 times worse. I'm sure it was staged for the party -- there were no toothbrushes or cosmetics on the master bathroom counter, no book by the bedside, not a stitch of clothing out of place, no clutter whatsoever. People don't really live like that -- not without a veritable army of live-in help. Everything was beautifully and warmly decorated, not only with taste and care, but of course the operative money to actually make it happen -- though perhaps what I should envy is the drive to even try. The Year of Zuzu's Petals meditation on the senselessness of envy went right out the window, I tell you! No... no... not really, not entirely, but I did leave the party feeling a little more lack than I felt on the way there.
Later that evening, Jose and Kristen surprised Ian with a Baskin Robbins ice cream cake, which he loves, as an early treat for his birthday which is tomorrow. We retreated to their house to watch a few episodes of "Dexter," and that was largely the highlight of the weekend. We don't see as much of our friends lately as I'd like, and it was nice to get together with them.
Saturday morning I conquered the 50% off sale at Goodwill. Three long-sleeved shirts, and one short-sleeved cute little summer sweater each for slightly less than $2 -- whoo hoo! I'm wearing one of my new shirts today, and I've already received a few compliments on it! I'm kicking myself over passing up two other finds: Hard covers of Harry Potter and The Order of the Phoenix (which we have only in paperback), and one of my favorite books, John Kennedy Toole's, Confederacy of Dunces (which I don't have at all for some reason), each for $1. I thought we had each of those in hard cover already, and I was bummed when I got home to discover that I was wrong about that. Such are the risks when "treasure hunting."
Saturday afternoon turned into way too much effort to coordinate dinner before table-top gaming on Saturday night. Dinner lasted too long due to poor communication and cross-purposed goals, so it was less than satisfying as an entertainment. Then we gamed only for 3 hours, most of which was spent "spinning our wheels in the mud," getting nowhere, which was frustrating. During that time, I shared with some friends in that group my ideas about running something. The reception was underwhelming, in my opinion, consisting largely of non-committal polite nods which took some of the wind out of my sails -- but have not yet entirely squashed the idea. I'm just thinking maybe a superheroes campaign might be more popular as a genre. I love superheroes, and that genre was, in fact, my first love in table-top gaming, so it's not exactly arduous to consider going that direction instead. Overall, Ian and I feeling a lack of easy leisure with our gaming lately, and that's a little disappointing.
Sunday got weird.
My mom is going through a new chapter of grieving for my aunt which is dredging up a lot of other family issues that my mother is confronting in her own heart. Two coworkers of hers mentioned recently that they were abandoned by their mothers, and this clearly is a hot button for my mom. I think it's dredging up guilt for her both as a daughter and a mother. I think if I asked her about it, my mother might deny what I perceive as her rule that to speak negatively of the dead is to fail one's duty of respect to them. I perceive that my mother really canonizes anyone who dies -- all sins are not only forgiven but outright forgotten; the dead never seem to have done a bad thing in their lives. At the same time, my mother inherited her own mother's diaries when my aunt died, and I think that my mother read some things in there which are hard for her to confront. I suspect that she's angry with her own mother, but doesn't know what to do with that. Nana is dead - can't confront her. Aunt Susie is dead, can't commiserate with her. My mother can't even vent about the situation because I think she'd feel guilty about that -- so I see that it's tough for my mom to work through this... Meanwhile, the whole topic understandably conjures up for her feelings of guilt about abandoning me as a teen when she was crazy. She's brought it up three times recently, but clearly feels so uncomfortable even dancing around the topic that any attempt I make to reply in seriousness (even to reassure her that I think she's a good mother) prompts her to wildly change the subject to talk about something so random that I question whether she's losing her mind again... A letter might reassure her; she's big on letters. I feel like this is an important topic, and I should tell her some nice things to her face, however -- but I have to acknowledge that while I feel a letter here is pretty chickenshit, my mother would probably prefer that... Anyway, the visit to her home yesterday, however brief, was uncomfortable and just fucking bizarre in the conversation. I couldn't quite follow where my mother was going since she so obviously felt driven to bring this up, but then would answer any response with an immediate subject change, only to blindside me with a sudden return later.
Here it is Monday, and I feel little rested from the weekend. It's sunny and warm here today, in the 50s, although we expect a little snow overnight if not much. At least I've got a new book to read -- some Forgotten Realms thing about the War of the Spider Queen that one of my gaming buddies put in my hands. I've picked out a new pattern for an afghan I want to knit. Progress not perfection, I guess!
Trace