It was an epic music sorting day. Between a good gig of downloads that I'd forgotten about, and a full disc burned of Indian music, I spent, oh, something like 10 hours listening, researching, renaming, and generally anal-retentiving all over a hell of a lot of mp3s. I feel accomplished, if somewhat neglectful and hurty-in-the-knees (I seem to forget to move when I engage in these spurts of music filing obsession).
Jeffie and I gloriously cheated on cookery today, by choosing to grill pork chops, asparagus, zucchini, and onions. Toss all the veggies in olive oil, salt, and pepper; brine the chops for 30 minutes and grind on some pepper... oh man. Simple genius. In other news, I picked up a pair of sandals (in black) today, on sale for $30. Not so simple, and perhaps not so genius. I can't think that I've ever owned heels so aggressive, and they're not even that aggressive... but it's about time, and I need some dressy-ish black shoes. After all, I have a wedding party to be in in a couple months, and not on the wearing-white side!
Last night I tumbled into bed and was out like a light. I think I can safely blame the beers. Lord knows that I needed the sleep after a harsh bout of insomnia the night before. Un-hooray for 4 am TNT and Cold Case.
Of course, I did nothing for my situation by not noticing until around 3 pm today that I'd not cut myself off caffeine by 1-2 like normal. This may be a long evening.
Given that I stayed home sick (even though I worked) on Friday, it has been quite the long weekend. As always, I find myself out of sorts at the edge of four-five days of not having much to do. More out of sorts than normal, I suppose. We went to see Ladytron on Saturday; I was disappointed. They were just fine, but offered no more to me over listening to their albums than a pretty light show. And Mira was singing distinctly flat. When I caught myself checking the time only twenty minutes into their set, I sighed. But pretty lights!
We celebrated Fool's birthday yesterday, with a barbeque and what was for him a relatively small turnout (only 12 or so of us here). I'm getting more used to the idea that leaving one of my brother's parties now means withdrawing to the upstairs. Not used to, mind you, but more used to. Having them close the door to their living room helped the ability to sleep, I suppose, but on the other hand it made me feel like an old lady. Which perhaps I am. An old boring naggy lady.
Sigh. There are many facets to this problem, but the one I find myself thinking about the most on this particular night is decades old. We've always been far too alike, wanted and fought over the same things. When I tell people about it, I say, "but we worked it out, long ago; learned how to share or split fairly," but apparently we have not. Or at least I have not, for what rages through me this evening is that oh so familar fury: that is MINE!! And along with the fury goes the terrible sadness and fear that my loss to the other side is not temporary, that I am in fact unworthy, that all those times that I conceded ground or compromised were taken for granted and will not be repaid in this, the turn that is most important to me.
It's been three years since I lost a best friend. I'm terrified to feel as if it's looming again and there's not a thing I can do about it.
Two aggravating days in a row, 50% due to external factors and 50% due to STUPID FUCKING HORMONES. If I'd been informed properly that PMS would get so much worse as I got older, I wouldn't have signed on the damn line. BLEARGH.
I watched Raiders of the Lost Ark and Temple of Doom tonight, and am wondering if I can squeeze in Last Crusade tomorrow night, in prep for seeing Crystal Skull on Thursday. I am prepared for disappointment, but hey, if nothing else, this whole thing has me rewatching the original trilogy for the first time in a couple years. I continue to love them so... "Bad dates." "We. Are going. To DIE. (sad face)" and so many other precious bits! Ah, my childhood. I had no idea until just now, by the way, a good couple decades after I first saw it, that Temple of Doom is supposed to be a PREQUEL to Raiders. Huh. I guess it's good to know that Indy's taste in women actually improved over time (oh Willie, how we all hate thee).
Planting extravaganza! I kinda went nuts getting plants today. Two Roma tomatoes, two "sweet 100" cherry tomatoes, a yellow pear tomato, a tomatillo, a serrano pepper, a yellow bell pepper, a red bell pepper, a zucchini, leeks, onions, chives, and I already had carrots to sow. (taking a breath) Thyme, lemon thyme, cilantro, basil, normal mint, peppermint, golden oregano, standard oregano, "hot and spicy" oregano, sage, rosemary... In other words, I decided to do a little bit of about everything and see what grows well at the new house. Whee! Also, petunias for the front porch. Because I seem to be decent at not killing petunias, unlike all other flowers I've ever tried to maintain.
Got everything planted in four hours out in my backyard. I feel accomplished. Let's try to not think about the rest of the backyard and all attendant drama.
I've not been talkative. I believe we can safely blame hormones and move on. Good times were had: lake and Ale House with Brandon and Kim on Wednesday, effing delicious breakfast-for-dinner with Jeffie on Thursday (man, does that boy make a mean waffle), general hangouts and going to see We Wrote the Book on Connectors at the Lo-Fi on Friday, and going on an earring binge at the Street Fair today. I considered expanding on all of this, but apparently along with my general malaise goes a degradation of basic typing ability. It's as if I've contracted temporary dyslexia.
Todd and I went to Cirque du Soleil's Corteo tonight. Zomg awesome. I think my favorite part, in retrospect, was the bed-trampoline segment.
Unfortunately, I'm still generating an ulcer's worth of stress. I'm so stressed out and depressed when I get home from work that I can't get anything done on this stupid thing; I end up paralyzed and unable to do anything at all other than curl around my RSS feeds. I really need to take a day off to just outright settle this shit, but I'm so full up with meetings for the next two weeks that I just don't know when I'll be able to. ARGH.
Monday: uncool. Except for one thing: Brandon asked me to be a groomsman at his wedding in September! I'm honored and tickled and excited and pleased, and well, downright bubbly to be asked to stand with my most awesome bud when he ties the knot. I warned him he'll likely be expected to return the favor. We giggled.
I have been stressy and/or tired. It has been unfun, but at least I'm falling asleep pretty much right when my head hits the pillow. Now if only I could work more effectively on not terrozing myself with anxiety dreams, that'd be just dandy.
Of course, that wouldn't really solve the stressy problem. There's two of those problems, and perhaps one is getting better, while the other one just... sits on my shoulders. Blah.
There is a truly epic bird shit splatter on the roof of my car. There's a good 2.5-3 foot diameter that's nothing but splashes of white and brown gunk. Fool, Jenya, and I stood around my car, jaws agape, and simply marveled. The only explanation is that there's a nest up above the part of my driveway where I've been parking my car... either that, or a roving flock of seagulls decided they had a serious grudge against the roof above my backseat.
Looking over at Micah, sacked out on the couch, snoozing hard with his face smooshed into his paw, who might think that he was a mighty hunter? Well, yeah, you'd be right if you laughed hysterically (although to be nice you might want to apologize afterwards). He and his sister cornered a wee mousie in the utility closet tonight; when I opened the closet door to see what was in there, Micah leaped forward and... I'm 90% certain he headbutted the mouse just like he does me when he's feeling affectionate. At best, he was sniffing inquisitively. I could feel Aggie's eyes rolling. Or I would have been able to, if, you know, cats rolled their eyes. Anyway, I pulled him out, reclosed the door on the mouse quivering in the corner, and called for Fool and his plastic box of mouse catching +1.
Next time, Micahbucket dear, if you're serious about going for a mouse, you might want to go with some more gusto.
Any day that starts off with me having to wash my hair with soap because I'm totally out of shampoo... well, just guess how I feel about that. Just guess. All things considered, it could have been a much worse day—in fact, it was a vast improvement over the previous three Mondays—but seriously. Soap? In my hair? In my own shower? Oh, the ignominy.
My boy was indirectly and un-named-ly complimented to me today, in a context totally aside from him being my boyfriend and instead just about him being a smart cookie at his job. I beamed a little inside. It made up a little bit for the soap. A little bit.
Oh man. Iron Man. I loved it more than I've loved a comic book movie in quite a long while (but don't worry, Batman Begins, it didn't unseat my unreasoning love for you). It's been years since I poked my head over to Ain't It Cool News, but I had to see what Harry would say... and I agree. A) It indeed was like freebasing pop tarts. B) This summer movie season is here to kick our collective asses with a beautiful iron boot.
Forgetting my computer at work was an unsmooth move. And now I'm too snoozy to make up for it. SNOOZY I SAY.
But I did finally remember to put up the redirect inc. No more laeren.zoggins.net! laeren.net is the new goodness. I'll think of a good way to deal with the .shtml pages not redirecting... later. Because I did mention the snoozy.