(no subject)

cowboy junkies songs and office politics make me want to cry.

that said, i'm home safe and can feel my cheeks again (the walk home was challenging), and there's food in the crockpot and chocolates in the fridge and once again, Nuttleman's rocks my world. Light told them I don't like roses and carnations, and so I've got a lovely bouquet on my desk at work full of purple flowers I can't identify (except for the irises), but wish I could 'cause they're awesome. (I'll probably take a picture of it and avail myself of my mother's crazy flower-fu)

I still feel a little odd, shaky on some deep and unpinpointable level, but the minutiae carries me through and the not-work minutae is all pretty awesome.

Watching Urban Legend reminded me of my abiding fondness for Joshua Jackson, so I've got The Skulls from Netflix. I've been thinking about people, but in mostly abstracted ways, my desire to make contact seems to fade with time. There's water on the stove for tea, we're about twothirds done with the holyshitmymother'svisiting cleaning (an event which ramps my already nigh-compulsive need to clean up a couple steps). And now the water's boiled and in an embarrassingly holiday-appropriate moment, i'm making the candied almond rooibos from upton teas (it has little pink hearts in it).

I'm having another spasm of wishing to send things and letters to people, and not being entirely sure how or even if I should go about doing so. I'm always afraid my attention is awkward and unwelcome and have yet to find a way to shrug that sensation off and just go about my business and send the cards and the packages, and acknowledge that yes on some level I'm probably trying to buy affection, but on most levels I just want the people I think are neat to be happy and to know that I think they are neat, and as long as I don't end up resenting unreturned affection (and most of the time i'm pretty good at this), it's fine to have to have some mildly murky reasons to do things.

Also, I finally figured out that the reason I feel so flustered around my boss's husband is because I have a teeny non-sexual crush on him. Which doesn't sound like rocket science to realize, but was comforting in the level of clarity it gave me. Mostly, I just want to talk about bad movies and say mean things about other people with him.

I feel calmer sometimes when i post to livejournal, as if i've gotten something out or off, even when I don't actually have anything to say, and it's no less true this time. I hope this silly holiday finds you all one version or another of well, and if not that the not-well passes quickly. I am going to go wallow in truffles and tivo and tea and World of Warcraft, or whichever ones of the above allow me to also cuddle with my husband while doing so.

(no subject)

cowboy junkies songs and office politics make me want to cry.

that said, i'm home safe and can feel my cheeks again (the walk home was challenging), and there's food in the crockpot and chocolates in the fridge and once again, Nuttleman's rocks my world. Light told them I don't like roses and carnations, and so I've got a lovely bouquet on my desk at work full of purple flowers I can't identify (except for the irises), but wish I could 'cause they're awesome. (I'll probably take a picture of it and avail myself of my mother's crazy flower-fu)

I still feel a little odd, shaky on some deep and unpinpointable level, but the minutiae carries me through and the not-work minutae is all pretty awesome.

Watching Urban Legend reminded me of my abiding fondness for Joshua Jackson, so I've got The Skulls from Netflix. I've been thinking about people, but in mostly abstracted ways, my desire to make contact seems to fade with time. There's water on the stove for tea, we're about twothirds done with the holyshitmymother'svisiting cleaning (an event which ramps my already nigh-compulsive need to clean up a couple steps). And now the water's boiled and in an embarrassingly holiday-appropriate moment, i'm making the candied almond rooibos from upton teas (it has little pink hearts in it).

I'm having another spasm of wishing to send things and letters to people, and not being entirely sure how or even if I should go about doing so. I'm always afraid my attention is awkward and unwelcome and have yet to find a way to shrug that sensation off and just go about my business and send the cards and the packages, and acknowledge that yes on some level I'm probably trying to buy affection, but on most levels I just want the people I think are neat to be happy and to know that I think they are neat, and as long as I don't end up resenting unreturned affection (and most of the time i'm pretty good at this), it's fine to have to have some mildly murky reasons to do things.

Also, I finally figured out that the reason I feel so flustered around my boss's husband is because I have a teeny non-sexual crush on him. Which doesn't sound like rocket science to realize, but was comforting in the level of clarity it gave me. Mostly, I just want to talk about bad movies and say mean things about other people with him.

I feel calmer sometimes when i post to livejournal, as if i've gotten something out or off, even when I don't actually have anything to say, and it's no less true this time. I hope this silly holiday finds you all one version or another of well, and if not that the not-well passes quickly. I am going to go wallow in truffles and tivo and tea and World of Warcraft, or whichever ones of the above allow me to also cuddle with my husband while doing so.