Monday, July 30, 2007
In case anybody actually reads this and has been wondering where I've been, I had a bit of a strange coupla weeks. When I mention that to people, they always want to know which flavor of strange... well, it's been a veritable Neapolitan of good weird, bad weird, and just plain weird weird.
The good: on Friday the 21st of July my niece was born. My sister actually went into the hospital Thursday morning to have labor induced (due to blood pressure issues), but didn't begin labor until the following evening. The labor itself lasted all of 20 minutes. I haven't met said kin-larva yet, and have been playing phone tag with my sister since last Tuesday, but will get a chance on Wednesday.
The bad: well... women. Do I really need to say more? I guess if you know me I can say it was yet another variation on the usual theme. You've heard the same story a dozen times or so, with a new cast each time. If we learn anything from our mistakes, I am once again reminded, it is that we never learn from our mistakes.
In short: when an intimidatingly attractive, frighteningly intelligent woman gifted with a wicked sense of humor starts flirting with me, rather than dithering and wondering what it all means, if possibly I'm imagining it (and, in this case, everybody else there to see it was imagining it as well), I need to take advantage of the situation. Terror that I'll screw it up horrifically, while entirely warranted, does not change the fact that the ol' deer-in-headlights routine precludes failure and success in equal measure. How many times have I learned this without actually learning from it?
So I distracted myself with scotch and Harry Potter. On their own, the heartache and the reading would not have kept me up all night. Combined they kept me up 'til 7 AM. And so that night at work I was distracted and zombified. Screwed up sleep schedule lead to meal skipping, which combined to lead to further levels of weird cognitive/emotional states.
Monday and Tuesday I spent cocooning, finishing up Deathly Hallows (on p. 733 of which something happens which I've been expecting and anticipating for five full books, after which everything else felt painfully anticlimactic) leaving the house only for Gestures practice.
The weird: Wednesday night I went in to work, only to learn that the espresso machine, our mighty Marzocco, was on the fritz. So I spent the night manning the counter, waiting for the electrician, holding a flashlight for the electrician... finally the machine came back up, just in time for me to clean it. Except that once I'd gotten 2 out of 3 group heads cleaned and shut down, word of its resurrection somehow got loose and I ended up with an evening's worth of frustrated espresso-desire erupting at once.
Also good: Saturday night wedding party/mini-reception for some former housemates, at which I saw several people I hadn't seen in too long. Let's see if I can keep the lines of communication up this time...
Also also good: for whatever reason, writing this kinda stuff down (thereby subjecting you to it. You, my poor defenseless reading public, who never did anything to deserve such ill-treatment) seems to exorcise it in a way. So your putting up with my wallowing allows me to wallow a bit less. Your suffering is not in vain.
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