~ Managed to spill Ribena on about 2 dozen embroidered bookmarks last night. Quick action and a soak in some near-boiling water with Woolite did the trick, though, and in spite of the Ribena being spilled on white cloth, no stains remain. This makes me beyond happy, since it's not like those bookmarks took no time or effort to make. 2 dozen of them would amount to about a week's worth of evenings, doing nothing but embroidering from supper until bedtime, and I'm glad I didn't lose all that work.
~ ~ Though in a pinch, I was prepared to stain them all with Ribena if I couldn't lift the stain, just to make the cloth uniform in colour. I had a backup plan, but I'm glad I didn't have to use it.

~ Washed my giant comforter today, did some dishes, and cleaned off a messy counter in the kitchen. Hurrah for productivity.

~ Am about to start making supper. Baked pork chops, with a sauce made from cola, brown sugar, and ketchup, and rice on the side. Easy as anything to make, and tasty. Good for days when I want a good meal but don't want to or can't put a lot of work into it.

~ Got some good reading time in today, too. Though I should be reading the last bits of Rachel Neumeier's Black Dog, I decided to take a break and reread Janet McNoughton's The Secret Under my Skin, since I saw it on my bookshelf and realized it had been a while since I'd last read it. It's a quick book, and I'm about 30 pages from the end, and I've really only been reading it between other chores. So, not too bad.

~ Actually managed to fit some singing in today, too, which made me wince because I'm sorely out of practice again and my range has decreased. Again. One of the few benefits to being off work for so long last time was being able to spend so much time alone so that I could sing without worry of anyone hearing me, but since I went back to work, I haven't had much time for that. I'm disappointed in myself, really, because singing's good for me. Good for my lungs, good for my mood.
~ ~ And when stuff was too challenging for me to sing along to, well, it's not like I was complaining at listening to Adam Lambert's amazing voice without my own getting in the way!

~ Watched a couple of episodes of Chiritotechin, too. It's nice that the episodes are only 15 minutes long, so I can squeeze one in while I'm waiting for dishes to dry, or between loads of laundry. It's a surprisingly entertaining show, and I'm enjoying it so far.
lighterthanair: (huggle)
I caved. I started watching Glee again. Made it through the first season and everything. I still mostly watch it for he musical talent, because some of the songs they do give me the shivers, but I'm still not overly fond of the, "Our stereotypes are somehow less offensive than your stereotypes" attitude the writers seem to have. I can handwave a little bit of the offense in dialogue by reminding myself that these are high school kids, and teenagers can be insensitive little pricks sometimes, but that's only a little bit of handwaving. Other things, not so much.

It seems to get a little better in the second season. I've only watched a few episodes of it as of now, and maybe I'm just getting numb to it, but maybe not. Maybe it actually did improve.

Of course, I still think Sue would have lost her job about 10 minutes after she walked through the front door, and it makes my blood boil to even look at her sometimes, with her abusive commentary and behaviour...

Anyway, on happier notes that don't involve strange reflections on my own childhood, my mother evidentaly decided that sending my a large box filled with English snack food isn't enough of a Christmas present, because she called today to inform me that she wants to get me a magazine subscription for Christmas too. After some discussion, we agreed on a subscription to Piecework, which I never find in stores here and is a pain to get my hands on. So now I'll have a magazine coming to me every 2 months for the next 2 years, filled with historical needlework.

The craftgeek in me is very very happy about this.

Starting my second selection of pills today. I'm done with the cyclokapron for now, and I only hope that the desogestrel will keep symptoms from piling up over time so that I don't need as much cyclokapron again in a month. Keeping my fingers crossed. The downside is that I was just starting to adjust to the symptoms of the first pills, and now I get to stop them and take another set of pills I have to adjust to, and then when I stop those I might have to readjust to the cyclokapron all over again. Ugh. But to be honest, the nausea and pain are certainly more tolerable than nausea, pain, and massive bleeding, so I'll stay on these things as long as I need to. If it turns out that these pills manage all my symptoms, then I'm pretty happy to stay on them for the rest of my life if need be.

Even if they do up my risk of strokes and heart attacks.

Definitely in a video game mood today, but I'm not sure what I want to play. Kind of in the mood for something epic and long-lasting. I'm thinking perhaps I might dig out my copy of FFV for the DS and start up a game in that. It's been so long since I've played it that restarting will feel kind of nice. And it's a great game for power-leveling, with the job system it has. Plus it's one of my favourite Final Fantasy games of all time, so it deserves another good playthrough.

It's been a while since I've had a good geek-out. Nerdygeek, not musicgeek or craftgeek or bookgeek. A much more conventional definition of geek.

Though it seems I'm many flavours of geek. Like a geeky neopolitan ice cream.
lighterthanair: (for your entertainment)
Those who know me and know me well know that I'm not exactly a woman (in spite of some biological evidence to the contrary. And those who know me extra well know that I'm not exactly the kind of person to wear makeup. In fact, for a long I've hated the stuff. Symbol of the femininity that I don't have and that everyone expects me to have. Expects in the way that's so stuck in this society that it's actually more noteworthy if I don't sport extra colours on my face. Adding those colours doesn't make me stand out; it just makes me fit in.

And I had no interest in fitting in. Fitting it meant one more step toward people who I had little in common with, shows like Jersey Shore and other reality TV, about clothes I didn't care about and hot actors and music that gave me a headache.

Then something changed. For the past little while, I've been wearing those colours I used to dispise. I've found a nice combo of purple with silver glitter that I really like the look of, when I'm not going with something darker like midnight blue and black on my eyelids. My nails are painted, black like I haven't had them in years.

Why? Because of this guy:

A combination of, "Here, listen to this song," and someone turning the radio on at work introduced me to Adam Lambert's music, and I have to say, I was hooked. Normally not my style, but good god, that guy's voice was enough to hook anyone! So I started finding more of his music, looking into more about him, and, among other things, falling for his style and expression.

And that was when I started to wonder about makeup. Not as a way of fitting in, but as a way of standing out. Expressing who I was, using colour to make my own image and to show the world what I actually am and how I actually feel.

Yesterday, I was in a lot of pain again. Unprepared for it. That overgrown mass of cells and overblown collection of symptoms took its toll, and I wasn't exactly in a position where I could get comfortable and just wait for it to pass. I was stuck at work, couldn't leave, and just had to push through it.

And every time I looked in the mirror in the bathroom there, I saw the colour and glitter on my eyelids, and I felt stronger.

Here's how I looked at it. Not only did Adam Lambert inspire me to take a few risks in regard to my look, but he's also more than a little responsible for inspiring me to actually do something with the music that's been living inside me for years with no outlet. I want to sing. I want to let other people hear me sing. I want to take a stab at actually singing in public, locally, maybe trying out for Saint John Idol if it actually comes around again. This guy gave me no small dose of courage and determination to do something I've wanted to do for ages but been too shy to try.

So I looked at the glitter, that shine in the light, and I thought of that. I thought that this guy can do things that I want to be able to do, and he's got the strength to be able to do it, and dammit, I'm not going to let pain get in the way of me living my dreams. Or at least pushing for them, even if I don't make it, and I can at least say that I tried.

That's what I see when I look at the glitter. The strength to get past all this and to get where I want to be. The bravery to look past what other people are looking at and to express myself, however that expression comes about. Knowing that the pain will pass, and once it passes, I'm going to sing again!

All thanks to one guy who doesn't know who I am.

I don't say that bitterly. I think if he knew who I was, I'd be intimidated as all fuck, and no amount of glitter would change that! XD
lighterthanair: (for your entertainment)
I've been having fun with trying to put my life in order. A little too much fun. And I can't just blamethank the caffeine because I haven't had any for two days. Looks like this mood boost is more due to a mental shift than legal stimulants, which makes me happier still.

I'm taking steps, and it's awesome. I've spent the past three mornings singing my heart out, which so far is giving me a bit of a rough throat because I'm not as used to constant singing as I used to be, and on the last song of my personal set this morning my voice broke hideously when I tried to hit an ending high note. As I said on Facebook, it sounded like I was trying to squeeze a toad to death. More warm-ups next time, I think, and maybe not so many vigorous songs until I've had some tea. Or at least until I've made some tea. Urban Zen's apple green tea is a great way to start the morning, and really soothing, but it doesn't seem to penetrate deep enough to really fix where the problem is.

But fewer voice breakings will come with time and practice.

Still working on lyrics, and writing down snippets of whatever comes to me. Whether or not I'll end up using anything I jot down is another matter.

Yes, I'm actually taking the plunge here. I'm going to take the advice of a friend and actually put my songs out there for others to listen to. I've envied others for people able to do that, for having the courage to do it. I watch and listen to professional musicians with envy, thinking to myself that I know I can do their songs, hit those notes, sing well enough. And I just never have. Why? Because I'm a coward. Because I'm too afraid of recording a song and letting the world listen and then having people I know come up to me and say, "Hey, so I heard your song." I don't want them to know what I can do because then they can judge it, and they can judge it badly, and I can face rejection.

Wait, scratch it all. Change the verbs to past tense.

I'm tired of being afraid of that. I'm tired of keeping all I can do inside because I'm too afraid of what people might think if they know what I can do. I'm tired of living in envy of the people who took that step and are doing what they love while I sit in an office taking phone calls all day, waiting for my shift to end so I can have a little bit of freedom before I start it all over again.

Want to know what I've figured out? When you have a hobby, a passion, and you let it out and work with it, mundane work stops being such a chore. Before, work was the thing that consumed my day, made me hate it and myself for doing it, and the only relief came when the day ended and I didn't have to be there, so then I'd go home and sit on my ass and dread having to go back the next day. Now, it's different. It's a thing that takes up my time, sure, but it's more like a minor annoyance that just happens to interrupt me from doing the things I love. I still get annoyed by it, but I don't suffer through it the way I used to. It's not a dark consuming terrible thing that exists solely to devour my soul. It's a thing. I do it. Then I go away and enjoy myself and actually feel like I'm living life for a while.

I don't ever want to lose this feeling. And if not losing it means I work at my music and put what I do in front of others and let them judge it, then so be it. It's worth it. Even if I try and I crash and burn, it'll have been worth it to have lived like that for a while, to know what life is supposed to be about, and to say that I tried, I followed my heart and did what I love.

It's a work in progress. But it's a damn fun one, and I don't regret what I'm trying to do.

So it's not so annoying that right now, I have to take a little break from my singing to actually go to work. Sure, I wish I could stay home all day and work my voice like I've done the past couple of days, but a nice deposit in my bank account reminds me why I really can't. *chuckle*

September 2015

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