"I have learned to leave no stone unturned"

I've washed my hands often enough today that they have that weird sort of stiff feeling.

I've learned that you can use a garment steamer to basically pour boiling water on grout and scrub it clean(er). I've also learned that this is an extremely warm way to clean something, and that next time, I should do the spring cleaning in the spring.

I'm cleaning all the things in anticipation of the third annual 1776 showing at my house on Wednesday. Light made bases for the sorbet and one of the ice creams while I lay on the couch whining about my migraine, and then I rallied and we made the third (egg-based) batch. I seem to remember that you can melt and refreeze ice cream, but not sorbet, so I'm wondering if that is the base we should save to churn for the very last.

We've made brown-sugar balsamic ice cream, bittersweet chocolate ice cream and orange-spiced honey sorbet. We purchased chocolate-raspberry sauce and chocolate-dulce de leche sauce, and raspberries and strawberries and blueberries. I'm roasting lemons for lemonade and I've got the ingredients to make maple-blueberry soda. There's virgil's root beer and peach lemonade in the fridge, and vanilla ice cream in the freezer.

Absolutely no transitional statement goes here.

It's hard for me to get out of commodifying social interaction. What am I willing to sell to buy the things I want? What's the worth of vulnerability? I frame almost everything as a trade, a transaction, and I don't think the local economy's holding all that steady. I'm only worth as much as I'm willing to inconvenience myself. One of the ways I know love is that Light is the only person in the world that I'm convinced is going to stick around after the shouting, after the crazy. He's the only one I can get mad at and not choke it down, I can actually say that I'm angry, I'm hurt and he's willing to work through it, or wait it out. I tried to convince him to leave me when I got the BRCA diagnosis, I thought it was unfair, that he hadn't signed up for this shit. (not that I had, but I didn't have any choice).

Chile's a close second, someone I can say "hey, we're going through an awkward patch" and she can say "yup, we are" and we'll wait it out and then be awesome again. And there are other people, of course there are other people, there are always other people, and the things I lose get replaced with other things, and there's always the chance that whatever come next is the thing that sticks. And maybe, eventually, it'll be okay if some things don't stick around, I can learn ugly endings don't actually negate everything that came before.

Back to the part of the day where I mop. I'm actually not mopey at all, I'm just mulling over how okay I am being played for a fool, intentionally or unintentionally, what offers to make and when to stop offering.

"I have learned to leave no stone unturned"

I've washed my hands often enough today that they have that weird sort of stiff feeling.

I've learned that you can use a garment steamer to basically pour boiling water on grout and scrub it clean(er). I've also learned that this is an extremely warm way to clean something, and that next time, I should do the spring cleaning in the spring.

I'm cleaning all the things in anticipation of the third annual 1776 showing at my house on Wednesday. Light made bases for the sorbet and one of the ice creams while I lay on the couch whining about my migraine, and then I rallied and we made the third (egg-based) batch. I seem to remember that you can melt and refreeze ice cream, but not sorbet, so I'm wondering if that is the base we should save to churn for the very last.

We've made brown-sugar balsamic ice cream, bittersweet chocolate ice cream and orange-spiced honey sorbet. We purchased chocolate-raspberry sauce and chocolate-dulce de leche sauce, and raspberries and strawberries and blueberries. I'm roasting lemons for lemonade and I've got the ingredients to make maple-blueberry soda. There's virgil's root beer and peach lemonade in the fridge, and vanilla ice cream in the freezer.

Absolutely no transitional statement goes here.

It's hard for me to get out of commodifying social interaction. What am I willing to sell to buy the things I want? What's the worth of vulnerability? I frame almost everything as a trade, a transaction, and I don't think the local economy's holding all that steady. I'm only worth as much as I'm willing to inconvenience myself. One of the ways I know love is that Light is the only person in the world that I'm convinced is going to stick around after the shouting, after the crazy. He's the only one I can get mad at and not choke it down, I can actually say that I'm angry, I'm hurt and he's willing to work through it, or wait it out. I tried to convince him to leave me when I got the BRCA diagnosis, I thought it was unfair, that he hadn't signed up for this shit. (not that I had, but I didn't have any choice).

Chile's a close second, someone I can say "hey, we're going through an awkward patch" and she can say "yup, we are" and we'll wait it out and then be awesome again. And there are other people, of course there are other people, there are always other people, and the things I lose get replaced with other things, and there's always the chance that whatever come next is the thing that sticks. And maybe, eventually, it'll be okay if some things don't stick around, I can learn ugly endings don't actually negate everything that came before.

Back to the part of the day where I mop. I'm actually not mopey at all, I'm just mulling over how okay I am being played for a fool, intentionally or unintentionally, what offers to make and when to stop offering.