(no subject)

Well, I'm here in St Louis, soon to attend Light's sister's wedding. The event comes complete with two babies, one 13 months old and one 4 months old, and they are both painfully, painfully cute and sweet, and my desire to make one of my very own remains completely inert.

I know that now that it's been made a physical impossibility, even were I to want one, I'd have to go seriously out of my way to acquire a child, but it still remains really comforting to know that that particular life choice remains entirely clear to me.

I finished a truly trashy novel on the plane (Cruisie et al's Dogs and Goddesses) and the upcoming bookgroup book (Thirty Umrigar's The Space Between Us ) and now I really should be cracking down on reading for Tuesday's class but am instead engaging in a battle with my Google Reader and watching Dirty Jobs on hotel TV.

I managed to negotiate the champagne toast and the wine refilling last night, but am not 100% certain what I'm going to do with a rum-soaked wedding cake tonight. I'm not anxious exactly, I'm not afraid I'm going to do something or freak out, it just continues to feel a little bit like being ground down.

It's a busy upcoming week, most of my upcoming weeks are busy and they're busy because I make them so, but occasionally I sit back and wonder what the hell I'm doing. I think I'm having fun, and I think I'm juggling it all well, and I think there's a possibility that there's going to be a nice space of time before whatever other shoe is going to drop drops. I don't think I'm actually running away from anything anymore, I don't feel like I've got quite such a desperate flavor. (though even saying that sounds desperate to me).

Also, last night I got a soup-bowl of creme brulee. It was awesome.

(no subject)

Well, I'm here in St Louis, soon to attend Light's sister's wedding. The event comes complete with two babies, one 13 months old and one 4 months old, and they are both painfully, painfully cute and sweet, and my desire to make one of my very own remains completely inert.

I know that now that it's been made a physical impossibility, even were I to want one, I'd have to go seriously out of my way to acquire a child, but it still remains really comforting to know that that particular life choice remains entirely clear to me.

I finished a truly trashy novel on the plane (Cruisie et al's Dogs and Goddesses) and the upcoming bookgroup book (Thirty Umrigar's The Space Between Us ) and now I really should be cracking down on reading for Tuesday's class but am instead engaging in a battle with my Google Reader and watching Dirty Jobs on hotel TV.

I managed to negotiate the champagne toast and the wine refilling last night, but am not 100% certain what I'm going to do with a rum-soaked wedding cake tonight. I'm not anxious exactly, I'm not afraid I'm going to do something or freak out, it just continues to feel a little bit like being ground down.

It's a busy upcoming week, most of my upcoming weeks are busy and they're busy because I make them so, but occasionally I sit back and wonder what the hell I'm doing. I think I'm having fun, and I think I'm juggling it all well, and I think there's a possibility that there's going to be a nice space of time before whatever other shoe is going to drop drops. I don't think I'm actually running away from anything anymore, I don't feel like I've got quite such a desperate flavor. (though even saying that sounds desperate to me).

Also, last night I got a soup-bowl of creme brulee. It was awesome.