"I wrote it down somewhere"

Note to self: seriously, woman. Step away from the confessional post. The whole Bespoke thing last year might have temporarily served as an ego boost before you drowned it in your crazy like a sack of kittens (the ego boost, that is) but it's certainly not serving you this year.

This morning was another plastic surgeon's appointment where she told me that these are pretty much the boobs I get. Cue hysterical sobbing. Sure, I've always kind of hated my body, but I've never hated it like this and I know all things fade with time, but I'm really not looking forward to an extended period of this level of anger/betrayal/sadness. And it's better for me than timeboobs, but as the princess cat death clouds part, they reveal a whole 'nother layer of trauma underneath. I'm a goddamn layer cake of maladjustment.

I'm dropping the Shakespeare class, I'll try to take it again but at the moment it just seems like going to a place to cry in front of strangers (since that is where I was when I got the princess cat call as well as being going on while she died, even if I was with her) and if I want to cry in front of strangers, I can do so just by getting on the bus. Not that I cry every time I get on the bus, just that I have fairly easy access to situations where I'm surrounded by strangers.

I'm going to Boskone this weekend. There are actually a lot of panels that seem conceptually interesting. I've got a role in this year's readercon, and another in next year's Arisia, and if I'm lucky, I'll get to a place where the roles themselves are the point and project, rather than any sort of peer-approval or ticket to the sekrit in-club.

I'm reading a lot, and cross-stitching a lot, and I'm mulling over some house-ideas. I'm going to Hawaii in eight days. I'm scaling down my hopes for 2012 (i'm feeling pretty strongly about my Fuck February initiative), but I still intend to find my stride and hit it. I know there's the skeleton of an awesome and sustainable life around here somewhere, I've just got to find it.

Now, sweeping and dishes and maybe even some book-arranging. Once again, if I've borrowed a book from you that you'd like back, please tell me.

Also, six years and one day ago, Light proposed to me in our weird little galley kitchen, and I'm still blown away by how awesome that is/was.

"I wrote it down somewhere"

Note to self: seriously, woman. Step away from the confessional post. The whole Bespoke thing last year might have temporarily served as an ego boost before you drowned it in your crazy like a sack of kittens (the ego boost, that is) but it's certainly not serving you this year.

This morning was another plastic surgeon's appointment where she told me that these are pretty much the boobs I get. Cue hysterical sobbing. Sure, I've always kind of hated my body, but I've never hated it like this and I know all things fade with time, but I'm really not looking forward to an extended period of this level of anger/betrayal/sadness. And it's better for me than timeboobs, but as the princess cat death clouds part, they reveal a whole 'nother layer of trauma underneath. I'm a goddamn layer cake of maladjustment.

I'm dropping the Shakespeare class, I'll try to take it again but at the moment it just seems like going to a place to cry in front of strangers (since that is where I was when I got the princess cat call as well as being going on while she died, even if I was with her) and if I want to cry in front of strangers, I can do so just by getting on the bus. Not that I cry every time I get on the bus, just that I have fairly easy access to situations where I'm surrounded by strangers.

I'm going to Boskone this weekend. There are actually a lot of panels that seem conceptually interesting. I've got a role in this year's readercon, and another in next year's Arisia, and if I'm lucky, I'll get to a place where the roles themselves are the point and project, rather than any sort of peer-approval or ticket to the sekrit in-club.

I'm reading a lot, and cross-stitching a lot, and I'm mulling over some house-ideas. I'm going to Hawaii in eight days. I'm scaling down my hopes for 2012 (i'm feeling pretty strongly about my Fuck February initiative), but I still intend to find my stride and hit it. I know there's the skeleton of an awesome and sustainable life around here somewhere, I've just got to find it.

Now, sweeping and dishes and maybe even some book-arranging. Once again, if I've borrowed a book from you that you'd like back, please tell me.

Also, six years and one day ago, Light proposed to me in our weird little galley kitchen, and I'm still blown away by how awesome that is/was.