Oct. 4th, 2012 06:05 pm
crows: (red)
ENOUGH FUCKING OF THAT MAUDLIN BULLSHIT. I still feel terrible BUT IT IS TIME FOR SOME FUCKING COOKING NOW. Yesterday, I reprised this recipe with raw honey in place of the sugar and creme fraiche in place of the mascarpone. Raw honey is always amazing but I think I prefer mascarpone.

Today, I am making some of these pies.

I'll keep you posted.

Pie time, bitches.
crows: (Default)
Oh, today. I was going to write some more shit about feelings, but... now that I've grown annoyed with said feelings in the procedure that belongs natively to me as a Taurus I am pretty much just waiting to get over myself. In short form, I woke up crying, was in bed until noon, and haven't done anything useful today. I mean, I made breakfast, for myself and two other people, so I guess there's that, and I am on vacation so... I guess there's that, but I do have a lot of homework I should have done... earlier in the week, and a lot of other projects I wanted to use my down time on while I'm here. Like the comic with [personal profile] auto_destruct.

But no, I am instead wound up on this borrowed sofa being a gelatinous, slightly headachey mass. I should go get some coffee. I think some of this might be menstrual. I should also make pies. Should should should.
crows: (caw)
Well, contributing to the Feelings Melange of present, much of which is related to my attachment to music and the variety of really excellent musical experiences I've had in the last week, I've just learned that vocalist Annette Olzon has just parted ways with Nightwish, just days after my good fortune of seeing them, and her, in concert for the second time.

I felt my heart break a little, you guys. You don't even know. I've loved this band for a solid decade, now, having first fallen for Tarja's voice and their sound over all and was very anxious the year they split with her (around the same time that Liv Kristine left Theatre of Tragedy). Annette is a dynamite performer and, in my opinion, a really stellar vocal talent though she's not a classical singer. She also had a really warm personality on stage and, from the end of things that I saw as a fan, seemed to fit into a really good thing with them. I deeply enjoy the two albums they did with her, and I hope they find someone who works well for what they need.

And now, I'm going to go curl up in a corner and sulk somewhere and do some fucking homework.
crows: (red)
Part of this is hoodoo and part of this is whinging.

This week, I'm tired of being a college student. Yes, I know I'm only in my fourth semester of this shit if you don't count my online courses last summer. But there's so much I want to do that doesn't particularly involve being in school. There stands to be a lot of travel this summer; in every instance something that will be a wonderful experience with people who mean a lot to me. Things I know I will regret not doing, if the opportunity arises and I do not take it. Things I need to make work. And it just... it just underscores how, if I weren't in school, I could be working full time, or looking for a job that paid better than I make (not that I don't love my job, I do), and still have loads more time than I do right now. Time where I wouldn't so keenly feel the things I'm putting off.

Part of this attitude is the weight of the sleep debt I've incurred over the last couple of weeks (a balance which I continue, largely, to default on, but is present nonetheless). I don't feel particularly excellent in my skin today; I need to reset some things. Hydrate. Detox. Eat a little bit cleaner, especially as we cruise into spring (mmm, renewal).

Really, I shouldn't be complaining. That thing which is at the root of my angst is actually a profound excess of creative energy, ideas, and cool fucking shit that's not even all that out of reach. Much of this I've already plunged into, much of this is stuff I'm doing and I would just like to be doing more of. There's so much writing. There's drawing happening again. And... music. I'm feeling easier in my voice the last few months than I have for a long time, and I'm beginning to feel comfortable handling my instruments again. It's been so many god damn years that I barely recognize what it feels like, but the reminder of why I surround myself with this kind of thing and why it's important to me is pretty refreshing. It's scary though, too. I've taken on a couple of things that are going to be a significant challenge to my sensibilities in the next couple of weeks, re: performing, and performing in ways that I'm not 100% comfortable with. Being on stage with the choir, or even as part of our 8 or 9 person ensemble doesn't really rattle my nerves (an improvement, over previous intervals of my life), but being up there by myself (which I will be), and being up there with an instrument (which I will be), these things... are going to give me an ulcer.

Sooo... yeah. Also, also! People in my life. Yes, you there, you who may read this and many of you who won't ever. Stop being so fucking fabulous, brilliant, clever, sexy, and interesting. Seriously, knock that shit off. My heart can't take it. Let me get bored enough to do my homework and get some fucking sleep at night.

(I kid.)

And then, there's the work. It is, as it has always been, small things fit in the in between, a color to my relationship with the night, very tiny rituals that aren't conducted in a language symbolically or otherwise that I expect anyone else to understand (though as it happens people do, from time to time). These things, I am remembering too, and open to more of. It's a reminder of how much of life is still this perpetual journey out of the fog, that I have to keep my eyes always forward because I could at a moment's notice turn around and become lost again. Which is not to say that I feel so close to peril, as I certainly have in former years. I'm steady on my feet these days. It's nice. I'm trying not to take that for granted because I daresay a majority of my life to this point has not been able to claim that among its virtues.

So, I continue to come out of things that have hampered me, or things that I have simply outgrown, perpetual nautilus building another temple, and another. Currently, there's a great deal of reconnecting and remembering going on, and I am wondering again, as I have occasionally in the last six months, whether there's a time approaching where I will be practicing with other people again. I wasn't sure I was ever going to pull away from feeling as private as I did about all of that business after I moved to Los Angeles. I really did think the door had closed forever, but now there are more people in my life than there have been for a long time that know some of those deeply secret things, and it wasn't a labor to confess them. In a lot of ways I'm back in a country of my own people, at long last.
crows: (Default)
I'm tired. I've been considering going to bed for more than an hour. I feel too restless and cranky to sleep. I am probably restless and cranky because I'm tired.

Not being able to see the person I'd like to go see on the east coast is beginning to wear. Really, not being able to plan any travel really sucks right now because there's more visiting than just that I'd like to accomplish, but that one stings particularly because it's a little more sensitive attachment. It's been more than two months. I knew it was going to be a while when we split ways last time, but at the time, I'd planned on at least having a plan at this point... I'd hoped to at least have an idea of when we'd next have an opportunity to intersect, and so far, that's still over the horizon for an indefinite period. That makes me want to cry a little. Or, in fact, just cry, as the case may be.

I'm going to go lay down. It's definitely been one of those 'I will try again tomorrow' evenings.
crows: (Default)
Two women standing on the curb outside of my house beside their parked car, smoking cigarettes.

Cigarette smoke drifting in through my open windows, enough to make my house smell not like my house, but like smokers. (Yes, my windows are open most of the time. I live in the Midwest as of this summer, and have no AC. And I enjoy fresh air. FRESH air.)

No, no... your habit doesn't impact anyone outside yourself, obviously. Why should anyone else talk about it, or care.

I'm leaving with my cigarette-smoke induced stomach ache, now. Ta ta.
crows: (black raven)
Awoken to a beastly mood. Not concerning anything in particular... I think I'm just fatigued, I have not been productive this week and I needed to have been... but two and a half days out of four I was sick in just that way that makes me unable to hold onto a train of thought for more than a minute.

Nights plagued with invisible nightmares, that I cannot remember at all come daytime to excise from my subconscious. Fear of returning to sleep hovering over me in the evenings like a miasma. Tonight was no different, except in addition I dreamed of her... it's been a long time. I used to conjure her up in my dreams often; normally she was cruel, the way I remember her, the way I last saw her face. I would cry and cry and cry until it was agonizing to do so but I couldn't stop. This time, though, she told me bits and pieces of her story... she seemed so sad and wind-scattered, exhausted and fragile, hesitant, almost afraid of me. I don't know what it means, if it means anything. Is this the process of my own mind toward closure? Is that why I wrote her a letter yesterday, moreso than reconciliation? I don't even know if I have the right kind of contact information in order for her to get it... I hope she did, though. I really, really do.

I feel like my body is a pit of sand that I, my consciousness, is standing in. I dig with my hands, constantly shoveling* it out in two-palmed scoops in an attempt to get down to things that are meaningful and useful. I know they're there, but the sand keeps on sliding back in and I can't get at them, the tools of my trade, my abilities to progress.

It is to be mentioned, however, at at the asterisk a bright flash of dream-memory hit me... I was on a beach where there were a lot of people (later, on some kind of... dock out in the middle of the water). I'd smoothed out a little space in the sand where it was just slightly damp, far enough away from the surf that there was not water washing close to me, but I think the tide had been higher recently. I was drawing symbols there... then something started happening that tugged me away, but I remember fumbling with my camera, trying to take a picture of two symbols that I'd drawn there (I think I'd drawn them). I remember them very vaguely... I've jotted them down but they look incomplete. >.<

Here's the plan: shower, dress (for real, for going out, for self-presentation for people who will hire me) call the city about the fucking couch that is still sitting on the fucking curb even though I've scheduled the fucking pickup fucking twice (see, I told you so), brew up a pot of coffee, eat a bowl of cereal, pack Noodle and other sundries, take to the streets. So help me, I will get things done today. I will also write. I need very much to feel as though something has come of this week. Also, maybe, conceive a sewing project for the weekend. I'm pretty stocked with notions to abate my lack of expendable funds right now... I think something fresh and cunning is in order (just in general).
crows: (Default)
Well, I feel patently awful today. I've had the creeping sensation that I was getting sick for a couple now, and here it is! I thought I was ok, woke up at 7 30, then went back upstairs to lay down and stayed in bed till after 10 with the blanket over my eyes being a huddled pile of miserable. Poor Jeremy. I'm feeling a little better now... I think we're going to try to look for something to sit on in the living room (the devilcouch is leaving! On wednesday! The cushions are already gone, and the body is propped up next to the door.) which will be an interesting process considering that he STILL doesn't have his car.

So, everything has slowed down. I've been wanting to write things for several days but have had my head in such a fog that I just don't feel as though I can make the thoughts congeal. Nobody has written or called about any of the job applications I've sent out in the last week and I still haven't heard from TDMonthly, although they've been very slow in all the communication I've had with them so I'm not going to give up yet. That said, feeing shitacular has the side effect, generally, of putting me in a pretty beastly mood so, right at this very moment, I must admit to being a fair cut below optimistic, on a general basis.

In other news, week after next I'll be going up to Oakland for a few days to visit a friend of mind who's recently engaged and I haven't seen for years. Probably do some other cool hangin' out while I'm out there, as well, so... I'm looking forward to that!

Now, must find some form of gainful employment and soon!


crows: (Default)

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