We have left Battlemoor behind, and soon Colorado will be in the rear view mirror and we’ll be staying the night in Albuquerque before we go home.
I had a great time, but I miss my Rory-kins and my River monster. It’ll be good to be home and have them happy to see me. It’ll also be nice to sleep in my own bed … and write on my couch.
I managed to get a decent amount of writing done while on vacation, but I’ve got a lot left to do. I’ve gotten my MC into a sticky situation, and I’ve got to get her out of it… but I’ve got half a book to go for that.
I met many new people and made a few new friends this past weekend. Got some good rapier fighting in, and (in a rarity only found in out-of-kingdom events) managed to get to fight only people I’ve never fought before. Won a few fights, lost a few, but thanks to my rapier teacher I’m trying a new thing where I try to remember at least one thing I learned from each fight to help teach me new things and learn how to improve. I wasn’t able to get over my shyness to ask other fighters for pickup fights, but a couple of people asked me so I did get a few non-tournament fights in.
Tuesday I go back to work and fully back to mundane life. It’ll be a little bittersweet, because I’ll be back to normal but I’ll have to leave SCA life behind for a while. Not completely behind–I never get completely away from it because I’m always working on craft projects in my off time. I have to buckle down and get my A&S projects finished when I get home. I’m not going to try for Champion this go around. Novice for me this time, but maybe for the Kingdom A&S in the fall. We shall see.
Speaking of down time, I should get some writing in while I’m sitting here in the back seat.
Category: Thoughts
I got it covered
I’d thought I had lost my Arts and Sciences project–the only one I’ve gotten finished so far–until yesterday. I gave the craft room one last sweep before I left to go visiting my potential-future-Laurel, and lo! and behold, there it was. On the floor. In a place I’d looked at least three times previously. Right between a couple of boxes. Thanks to that discovery I don’t have to redo the whole damn thing, and I was able to finish the beading on it. Next up (sometime in the next three weeks): the documentation paper to go with it. Easy peasy. Right? Well, maybe not so much, but I’ll get it done.
I got another project–well, the first part of another project–done as well. Introducing my fourth embroidered cup cover:
Done for an arts exchange project with another kingdom, but it’s not the only thing I’m doing; I’m also going to make some matching napkins, a feast gear utensil holder, and, time permitting, some coasters. Yeah, ambitious, I know, but I have a couple of months on those. The cup cover, btw, is 100% handsewn and hand beaded. No sewing machines were harmed in the making of that cover.
Yeah, it’s not perfect. I pulled the stitches too tight and crowded them too much on the white embroidery filling in the device. I eyeballed the circular edge when I was sewing the back onto the front, so yeah, not the evenest. Still, it’s pretty, and it’s I hope something the recipient will love.
I’m wondering something though…would people want to pay for cup covers like the ones I’ve made? One of them was a commission, but there were … issues with payment. Was it because the person thought I was charging too much? I don’t know, but I enjoy doing these kind of short embroidery projects, things that take a couple of weeks of stolen moments before or after work or during lunch, little snippets of creativity snuck in when possible. What am I getting at, anyway? Basically, I’m looking for something I can do that can hone my embroidery craft while still making creative things for other people. I’m just not sure there’s enough of a demand for it to make any kind of effort to advertise what I do worth it.
Here are some pictures of the others I’ve done (one wasn’t beaded because the person who commissioned it wanted to put the beads on herself):
Considering my previous failed attempts at creative entrepreneurship, I probably should just let word of mouth do its thing and if I get asked to make some, I make some; if I don’t, I don’t. I can make them for gifts or something and stoke my creative fires that way.
Who knows. Maybe this post will generate some interest? Maybe so, maybe no. I think I’m going to stop overthinking and just go do some laundry or something.
Stuck between a wall and a soft place
Can’t seem to make up my mind as to what activity I want to do before work this morning… I mean, I’ve been kicking ass on the embroidery project I’m currently working on, but I also have hit a mild brick wall in the writing of Book 2, and that really needs to be addressed. Then there’s the Viking hood I promised my husband I’d make for him (shouldn’t take too long, but I have less than an hour before I have to get ready for work right now) as well as Arts & Sciences stuff to work on. Oh, and there’s the tiny little detail of my first A&S project disappearing sometime in the last couple of weeks.
Yeah, I hid it in a “safe place” for the SCA party so it wouldn’t get stolen or messed up.
A very safe place.
So safe I can’t for the life of me find the fucking thing.
It’s not like I can’t redo it, or even that I can’t redo it in the time I have left before A&S. I can, if I push myself, but do I really want to have to do that? No. I also don’t want to have to tear apart the craft room (the last place I have to search) to find it. Decisions, decisions.
I suppose I should just work on writing. It keeps my eyes focused on the computer screen, so I can see the time and theoretically not lose track of how much time is left before I have to get ready.
In Boot News, I am free of the boot on my left foot, provided it doesn’t start hurting too much again. I guess I sprained a ligament in the middle toe, but at my two-weeks-and-one-day follow up (I went back in earlier than three weeks because of how my work schedule is) the doc said I was doing better at 2+ weeks than most people do at 3 weeks. So I did something right, at least.
Well, off I go to, y’know, do things and stuff.
This brainstorming episode has been interrupted by…reality
I have it all planned out. In the mornings, I will write. Or embroider. Or remake my Dark Phoenix corset for Tucson Comic Con so it fits. Or do some such creative endeavor. I mean, I’m up early enough usually, and my husband is either sleeping or working. Lots of “free” time to create.
Except…We have that huge SCAdian housewarming party this weekend. And my husband’s Peer is staying in the craft room. And the craft room looks like a crafting tornado hit it. FML.
I hate cleaning before I have to work, though. I have limited time in the mornings because I have to pay attention to what time it is so I can get my shower in and get dressed and whatnot. When I’m hip-deep in fabric, it’s harder to keep track. I either waste time constantly watching the clock, or I set an alarm which goes off mid-project. I have the afternoon off today, so theoretically I can get work done then, but then the problem of needing to get other projects done comes in. I have things like blood work to get. And a podiatrist appointment. And SCA scribal stuff to do.
There are shelves to store the fabric in so I have easier access and can see at more or less a glance what I have–but I have to sort and fold all the fabric and put said fabric on the shelves. There are two 6’x3′ tables that are CHOCK FULL of supplies and sewing machines and what have you on top of them that I need to clear off for potluck foodstuffs that will be brought by our guests.
*Sigh* I suppose Book 2 and the embroidery projects I have will have to hold off for a bit. At least a couple of days, until I can get the craft room presentable. Then it’ll have to wait for me to set everything up in its proper place. Then…I write? I hope.
Pros and cons of cons
So I have a decision to make…and it’s kind of a tough one.
There’s this convention, see. Tucson Comic Con. I wrote a sci-fi novel. Sci-fi and comic cons go together like peas and carrots. Or something. Point is, it would be a great opportunity to promote myself as an Arizona author with a new publication. The fee for a table isn’t unreasonable, and I’d have time to buy up a small stockpile of books to sign/sell at the con.
Buuuuuuuut…..The same weekend is also Coronation for the next King and Queen of our SCA Kingdom-slash-stepping down of my husband’s friend from current King to Duke.
Fuck. My. Life.
I want to be there to support my husband’s friend and my chosen family, but I also want to be able to be visibly there to promote my book at a medium-sized convention.
What do I do?
My husband was initially on-board with the con thing, but when he found out it was the same weekend as Coronation it was all nope, can’t do it. But I want to. I need to talk to him, I guess. I just feel like a jerk for wanting to.
We don’t have to do everything together. We can split the weekend–but it would be kind of a bummer not to have him there.
I’ll think it over. Who knows? I might not even get a booth. It might end up being a moot point.
But it would be freakin’ awesome to be able to do the con…..
*Sigh*
I’ll talk with my husband. See what his thoughts are. I know he won’t be happy, but maybe we can compromise.
Awake and (kind of) alert
Okay, thanks to Rory I’m up and at ’em this early Thursday morning. Yeah, he thought 0100 was a decent time to wake me up.
It’s already been a relatively productive hour and fifteen minutes, though. I started on design elements for an SCA arts swap project that I am participating in (I think my assigned recipient will like what I make, because some of the things she listed as her “likes” are right along the lines of what I already do arts-wise in the SCA so far), and now I’m delving into my notes for Book 2.
I already know I have one major no-no to fix as I rewrite, and it’s going to make dissemination of some of the necessary info tough: the dreaded head-hopping. I tried it in Abnormal but the publishers didn’t care for it, so I had to get creative with how I was relaying info there. This is going to be even more difficult though, because right now three of the main characters are–wait! Can’t tell you. Spoilers and all. 😉
My notes were previously on Evernote (great app! Love it), but last night I transferred many of them to a Word document and printed them all out so I can make handwritten notes and get my thoughts/plot points organized. It’s not quite the neat and pretty outline that I’m sure my publishers will ask for when I submit Book 2 after it’s finished, but for now it’ll do. I don’t do well with neat and pretty outlines anyway. They’re tedious to me, and I do better making them if I’ve already written the thing I’m outlining. Lol I guess I’m a little backwards.
So far I have a few thoughts brewing as to how I’m going to fix the boo-boos, but it’s going to be a slow process. The slowness will be compounded by A&S projects, the arts exchange project, and of course work and SCA activities. I don’t know when the publishers expect it to be done, but so far they’ve seemed willing to work with me when I’m still in the development stage. We’ll see.
Speaking of compounded, I may or may not have a new foot fracture. Left foot this time. No, it’s not a compound fracture, but hey, that’s the best segue I’ve got. Anywho, it’s been hurting off and on (more on than off now) for about two weeks, and I think it’s time to get out of the town called Denial and just get my ass to the doctor. I have an appointment tomorrow afternoon. He’ll probably order some x-rays, they’ll probably tell me yeah, it’s broken, and I’ll probably be back at the podiatrist’s office to get a boot for the left side. At least this time I didn’t wait until I almost couldn’t bear weight on it anymore. That counts for something, right? Stupid high pain tolerance.
So close, yet so far away
Timing is everything…and it looks like we were just in time–or not.
See, part of the reason for the whole house thing–the land transfer from my parents, the building, the moving–was so we could be closer to Mom to be able to help her if needed. My mom has fibromyalgia and has a tendency to overdo things (and thus be out of commission for days afterward) or to lose her balance and fall. Yesterday, the latter happened as she was on a walk. By our house. Like, right next to our driveway.
We were cleaning our apartment at the time.
It was a #fml moment to realize that at the exact moment we were getting most of the last of the stuff out of the apartment my mom needed us. Sure, my sister was with her…but she wouldn’t have had to hobble all the way across our adjoining land (on a broken left foot) to get home, and she wouldn’t have had to wait for my dad to get off work to go to the ER. Even if I had been at work, my husband could have checked on her, made her stay put, walked over and gotten her car, helped her into it, and taken her to the ER right away. Did I mention she hit her head when she fell? Yeah. That too.
She’s okay; she’s in a splint for her foot and I guess testing showed that her head was okay. But still, it was a hard reminder of why we really moved. It wasn’t just to get out of apartment life. It was to be there, extra hands if needed, for Mom.
And we weren’t. We could have been. And there are going to be times when we’re not here. We’ll be at SCA events or I’ll be at work and we won’t have the car or we’ll be at the movies or grocery shopping or whatever. But, for the most part, we’ll be here. Four acres away.
We just weren’t here yesterday. 🙁
Dis-Courage
I admit it. I’m a wuss. A coward, even.
Well, maybe not a coward. It’s not that I’m “afraid” to go back to exercising with my friends…or am I?
One thing’s for sure: I’m definitely discouraged. Between the month or so we all took off to prepare for Estrella war and my work schedule, I was off the wagon for too long, causing me to regain almost all of the weight I had worked so hard to lose. Couple that with the new exercises that we’re doing that require more coordination (which I highly lack) and you have a recipe for relapse. I just can’t make myself go anymore. I think about it. I try to psych myself up for it. But in the end, most days I end up staying home and wallowing in self pity.
Am I doomed to be obese forever? I used to be skinny; as early as ten years ago I was skinny. Then the move to Arizona happened, and the stress of not knowing if I’d have a job and having to make new friends got to me, and I stress-ate like a madwoman. I moved into an extended living facility (basically a hotel that has a pseudo-studio apartment for a room) and it was a lot of frozen dinners for me. That didn’t help. Then I met my husband who feeds me quite well, and I just ballooned. It’s been an up-and-down battle for years, one that I feel like I’m losing.
The most recent weight gain is the most depressing yet. I had worked so hard to lose that 10+ pounds only to have almost all of it back within a couple of months. I almost feel like “What’s the point? I’ll just gain it back in weeks the second I stop this” and I’ll end up quitting. I guess I kind of almost have quit already. I have no more motivation, no drive. I’d rather sit at home and wallow in self pity than get out there and exercise with friends.
I guess I’d better sign off for now. The cats keep walking across the keyboard in an attempt to get their morning wet food early, and I’m tired of deleting the jibberish they type.
Gutless
I had the perfect opportunity last night–a couple of times, actually. I could have told my seneschal that I didn’t want to do social media for the barony any more. I could have told my baroness. But did I? Nope. I chickened out every time an opening presented itself.
Why can’t I just admit to them that I don’t want to do the job any more? I guess it’s that I don’t want to let anyone down. I also don’t want to leave my barony in the lurch. Clearly no one else wants the position, because I’ve asked for someone to step up as a deputy an no one’s biting. Am I doomed to just stay stuck in this “dead-end” job indefinitely?
Oh, I enjoyed it at first. I felt so important, being an officer for the barony and being in charge of making sure things got posted to Facebook and (when I remembered that I created the account) Twitter, but now I’m filled with anxiety and dread any time I see a notification from a baronial account on my phone. It shouldn’t be like that. Sadly, though, it is, and aside from stepping down I don’t know what to do to relieve that anxiety and dread.
I’ve asked the kingdom social media officer if I can talk to her about it, but she wanted to talk face-to-face at the next event–which is this weekend. So I should’ve told my seneschal and baroness what was up. Especially considering my seneschal is also my good friend and rapier teacher. I should be able to talk to her about anything, but that guilt of leaving the barony in the lurch is eating at me almost as much as the anxiety.
The kingdom officer has assured me that the previous social media officer for the barony (my husband’s harasser) won’t ever get the position back, but I still worry. I can’t picture anyone else wanting the job, so basically I’m sitting in limbo “job-blocking” her from coming back to it. It’s not the best way to be.
Stranger in a familiar land
I’ll be the first to admit: I don’t go over to my parents’ house as often as I should. Once a week for laundry and watching Project Runway and maybe dinner if we can swing it. I mean, we’re moving in right next door, so we’ll theoretically be there more often soon, right?
Well, maybe not. Apparently, visiting Mom whenever I get the chance and trying to get her to go to the doctor when she’s been sick for over a week and not going along to the dog training classes for her new service puppy qualifies as being “disrespectful” according to my little sister’s out-of-the-blue texts this afternoon. No warning, no prior complaints of lack of respect from her, but now it appears I’ve been treating Mom so poorly that sis “can’t watch” much longer. What. The. Actual. Fuck.
Never mind that our brother is in a constant state of getting himself arrested, lying to Moms face, bringing unsavory individuals into Mom’s home…I could go on, but that’s a blog for another day. Suffice it to say, I’ve suddenly been blacklisted in my parents’ house and I have no idea where this is coming from.
My sister has made her…distaste, let’s say…for my husband known for quite some time. She doesn’t like him yelling at the dog who jumps up on him and chews on his arm, and rather than be rational about it, she blows up. He doesn’t hit the dog, doesn’t make sudden angry movements. He yelled. And when he was instructed not to yell anymore, he stopped. But I guess not praising the dog when he didn’t know that praising was part of the training is “disrespectful.” We’re supposed to know the rules even though we didn’t even know the new training was going on until last Friday. And the few rules we were taught on Friday, we followed. But no, we are apparently not treating Mom right by not knowing how to train the dog.
There’s gotta be something else going on, something underlying. The dog training thing can’t seriously be the straw that broke the camel’s back unless there was a fucking crapton of straw piled up. If our brother can be the Grand Poo-bah of Fuckups that he is without repercussions or consequences, there has to be something that I’m missing.
I’m just too pissed to ask what it is without making things worse right now. I can’t be trusted to use my words in a productive manner until I’ve had a chance to calm down.
I haven’t broken the law. I haven’t brought a criminal to have dinner with Mom and the family, lied about still associating with said criminal, then gotten Mom involved in the legal ramifications of hanging out with said criminal. But I’ve been “disrespectful.”
Why the double standard? Why does our brother get away with his bullshit when I am living a responsible life and not getting Mom caught up in drama that only serves to further stress her out?
Okay, I guess I’ll go over it in this blog today. Why not? I’m venting familial frustrations, might as well go all out.
So if I were to list his transgressions here, the Web would run out of memory for it. He has been the playing the victim in his self-destructive actions for years, and he’s been pulling Mom into his insanity–both figurative and literal–for years as well. Don’t get me wrong; I love my brother, but I can’t condone or enable his actions any longer. He. Doesn’t. Learn. He just doesn’t. I don’t think he really wants to. Why bother learning from your “mistakes” when they’re 100% forgiven and forgotten? Clean slate #72. Time to fuck up again.
Me? I try to learn from my errors. I take my meds for the most part. I take responsibility when I forget or run out and I get a little “off.” I don’t go playing the blame game, sidestepping any true accountability. I have never been in trouble with the law, never gotten arrested, and the few times I ended up in the wrong crowd, I’ve extracted myself from the situation without getting my family involved in my mistakes. But no, I’m the disrespectful one.
I’ve got a stable, successful career. My first book is in the process of being published. I’m in the process of getting my own house built so I can get out of apartment life and have even more stability. I try not to impose on my parents unless I absolutely have to. If I didn’t need to do laundry there, I wouldn’t even use their house for that. I’d come over to visit and watch Project Runway and have dinner and then go back to my home and do laundry in my own washer and dryer.
Is that her issue? Does my sister think my weekly visits are 100% about the laundry? If so, she is woefully mistaken. I could easily DVR the show on my own and watch it from the comfort of my own home. I don’t have to go shopping with Mom on occasion to have some “us” time. I do these things to keep from losing all connection with the family that is growing into strangers, especially my mom. How is that disrespectful?
Maybe if I ever get over being so angry I’ll calm down enough to respectfully ask why my sister is so angry with me. She doesn’t seem to have a problem with our brother, so I don’t understand why this dog training thing suddenly resulted in a bunch of texts detailing what a horrible person I am.
I don’t want to become alienated from my family, but it’s looking like that’s the way the cards are falling. I typed up a post a few days ago about my brother and the fact that he was hospitalized last month after getting the shit beat out of him and no one in the household told me. No one. My own brother. In the hospital. With a broken orbit among other things. Not a freakin’ word. Combine that with today’s drama, and it makes the jabs about “disrespect” sting all the more. Perhaps that’s why I sound so hung up on my brother’s screw-ups. He gets himself beat to shit (likely because of associating with the criminal element I mentioned earlier), and not only does no one “respect” me enough to tell me, but they take him in and coddle him while I’m being cast out.