Blarg

I've been composing a blog post for a few days. Maybe this little blip will kickstart this process.

Haven't given up the ghost completely...

...yet.

Hello again, gently readers.

I've been composing this post in my head for the past few days, and have been thinking about my poor, abandoned blog for even longer. I'll admit it, I was slightly embarrassed that after all my bluster that I had to let go of not one, but two projects. Boo hoo. Only not really.

So, a bit of a recap: there was a trash-fashion show that I competed in--I've been participating every year since it started, but this was the first one where I modeled.

bad cell phone photo

another bad photo of sleeves!

bustle!

And here's the finished outfit!

The first photos are poor quality, yes, but you get the gist, and this was the only photo I got of my complete outfit! I did not plan for documentation. Bad one on my part. Anyhow, the top is a bra with bottle caps (from across the country!), the corsety-bustier thing is out of heat-treated potato bags, and the skirt, bustle, veil,  and sleeves are made from onion bags.

I had been working away on this project despite my body deciding to not play fair: the week before I had some close contact with dogs that I don't know, I'm quite allergic to dogs and paid the price for that; and the week leading up to the show a cold decided that it was the perfect time to wage war. Side note: though zinc-heavy remedies can be super awesome, they make you feel fun-kay. Blech. That's why I hadn't been posting in the blog as much--I have super limited time after the monster goes to bed, and between allergic reations, colds, trashion shows, and, well, cats on the internet, I hadn't had a lot of time for blogging. Boo.

Now that the trashion show is over, I have been re-thinking my projects. I have a few irons in the fire, just in regular life, and I have been having doubts as far as adding another one to the pile. Of iron. So, I'm not. Adding one. To the fire. I've decided to not participate in NaNoWriMo.

What? you ask.  But you've been talking about that in your blog for a long time!

That's true. I have.

Are you the type of gal to string a reader on?

Maybe, but I don't try to be.

Why drop this one, and not one of the other 'irons' in your 'fire?' Hmm?

Well, a) I don't appreciate the tone you're taking with the quotes there, buddy. Watch it , or I might not let you ask any more questions.

Noted.

And b) it's more of a last in, first out kind of order. NaNoWriMo is the youngest project, so it can chill. I didn't register as a participant, so I'm not dragging down the success rate of the project. There are plenty of other people who will start and not finish.

You mentioned that you had let go of two projects, but you have more. Do you want to elaborate?

Not yet--some I can't expand on yet (SQUEE), and some I will, but in future posts. I can't blow my wad all at once--gotta keep it going for a little while, eh?

What does abandoning projects that you speak about publicly do to your reputation on your blog?

Nuthin. Key phrase is 'your blog.' (How do you like them quotes now?) My blog, my rules. This interview is OVER.

Don't worry, gentle reader: since this exchange happened in my head, I totally flipped over the imaginary table. That's the only way to end an interview like that.

And that's the end of my post. Only time will tell if I'm actually back on the horse.

An Apology to Froderick.

I broke up with my best friend. Nearly five years ago, and holy fuck, was I an idiot. Had I known that it's nearly impossible to replace the kind of relationship that we had, I might have thought, for a half a second, about what I was doing, and how that would impact both our lives.

Of course, I can't really remember what was such a goddamned big deal that I thought it best to break it off with her. For ease, I'll call her Froderick. There was some sort of drama in our little circle of friends, but I can't remember what it was. How stupid to throw away such an intense friendship over something that I can't remember.

I've been thinking about her more and more lately. I've half-heartedly reached out a couple of times in the past few years, hoping to, I don't know, patch things up? Maybe. Apologize? Yes, especially now.

This past week, a friend passed away. He was a friend of my husband's, since their awkward high school days. I met him in the halcyon days of the coffee shop, where I met my husband, and would while away hours with Froderick, doing crossword puzzles together, drinking lots of coffee and smoking lots of cigarettes. He was a good one. He shouldn't have died. He should still be here.

He had moved out of the area, and after the move, I hadn't seen him at all, save for just this past August, on a random trip to the grocery store, one of the few times that I had my Monster in tow. He was up visiting, with his two children, and the three kids played for the few minutes that we were chatting, playing a quick set of Catch-Up. I was in a hurry to do something, I don't remember what it was now. And now, in the blink of an eye, he's gone forever.

What do you do after someone goes before their time? You hold those close to you, in my case, mandate that no one you love is allowed to travel in any method that does not involve them being on the inside of a steel cage, and mourn. His passing has brought those coffee shop days back to mind, and with them, Froderick too. I miss her even more, and perhaps more because part of me is pretty sure that we'll never get to be friends again. I don't want that to be the case, but that's not how things go in this world. All I can do is apologize, and wish her well.

Froderick, if you are reading this: I'm so sorry, from the bottom of my heart. I miss you terribly, and I was a colossal idiot to be so mean. I hope you can forgive me, a little bit, at least.

Things early on a Monday

1. The internet is working again (no thanks to the provider, it seems), yet I am on my phone again. Glutton for punishment?

2. I an up early.

3. I dropped off on running, but I am going out today.

4. It's nearly officially fire-in-the-woodstove season.

Just a quick little post

...while I take my lunch break at work.

Some way or other, I have managed to get my personal project stack sky-high again. I recently cleaned out my projects and commitments, and whoosh, there they go again. Albeit this time, the only projects that I have on a deadline are few, and those deadlines are up before Christmas. the rest are work-on-them-when-I-want-to projects, thankfully.

I guess I need to be creating something. My mediums have changed throughout the years, and as they change, I am getting to be more and more central to the art. I don't know about that. Growing up, I kind of dreamed a bit of being famous, but I really don't want to be noticed, a lot of the time. PARADOX, NO?

Gah. Don't really have time to delve into this, dear readers. That's your little tidbit for now. Maybe the internets will be fixed at home, but I'm not holding my breath.

Ta-ta, dahlings.

The internet

...if being a jerk. A jerky jerkface jerk. I'm composing this from my phone, so please excuse any silly typos. Also, in the future, we write things ON OUR PHONES. THAT AREN'T ATTACHED TO A WIRE. ooooOOOOO.

There's a project I've started to dream up, one that I am hoping to work out a bit with NaNoWriMo, and I can't do research at home, because of our internet woes. We've talked to the internet company, ads were blown off. Gah. And I don't have time to just stop by a coffee shack and hang out whenever I want. Gah. I guess I'll have to make notes and get information from books. Like it's the 20th century or something.

Okay. I have to sleep, and this kind of input is killing my wrist, oddly enough. Think speedy internet thoughts for me. Because the internet runs on MIND POWER. (With mind bullets!)

Cleaning up the joint!

I live in this little, teeny, tiny 'town,' which is more accurately described as a place where a bunch of people built a bunch of houses a hundred years ago (yes, on a dune,) so that they would have a workforce that didn't have any excuse for not showing up to the mill on time. I live in a former company town. The local industrial history is a story for another time, but there is a story there, so remind me about that one later, gentle readers.

Anyhow, this teeny tiny company town had been pretty much derelict and neglected by the property managers or owners or whoever until a local group of property developers, builders and managers bought the whole town, kit and kaboodle. They got rid of (most of) the meth kitchens and pot grows, fixed up the houses so that they could be habitable, and started renting them out, with an eye toward building more housing, and a business park, as well as a park. Yay, rescuing historical places! The neat thing is that they have educated their workforce on historical restoration, and have been working toward fixing up the whole town. Which is a slow-going process. And in the meantime, the economy kind of took a nosedive. I don't know what this means for their long-term plans, but we are getting off on a tangent.

So, my street. When we moved in, we thought that the neighbors were a little bit on the crazy side, but after clicking around on YouTube, I have decided that my neighbors are complete angels. (There are some real assholes out there, and they don't live next door to me. Thanks be to the Flying Spaghetti Monster.) Then the Young Bucks moved in at the top of my street. Some of the Young Bucks have ladies and babies running around (two of the ladies were engaged in fisticuffs the other day), but they all want to hang out with their cheap beer and naked babies in the middle of the road. The narrow, one-way road. Thanks, neighbors. The Young Bucks have a couple of cars that I am pretty certain are non-op, hanging out, full of junk, in their driveways. Their beer-can collection is in the front of the house. And, it's the first thing folks see when they come to my house. Thanks, neighbors, for that first impression of blight-ishness. That's priceless.

So, the other day, I got a form letter from the property management company, telling the tenants that, hey, dudes, there's a bunch of junk and stuff lying around, so ya'll had better get that shit taken care of, or we'll take care of it, and charge the lazy jerkwads for the trouble. (I may be paraphrasing.) This letter made my little heart sing. The abandoned vehicles? Getting towed! The funky yards? Getting mowed! The crazy amount of toys cluttering up the street? Getting stowed!

Now, if they would just finish painting the house that they had started on before I moved out here. Two years ago.

Alrighty, it's time for me to do nighttime stuff. Like sleeping.
Bon nuit, mes petites choux.