2012: "We Stopped."

So, Happy New Year and stuff! I can hear people still (illegally) shooting off fireworks, so I guess their party must still be going-- well, kudos to them. More partying all around! On my part, the turning of the calendar (oops, still literally have to do that to my own hard copy) was a shockingly serene and pleasant experience.

Went down to New Orleans with some friends, which on New Year's Eve (or anything remotely resembling a holiday, really) is usually a crazy party chaos-pit of an experience. And, okay, there were a lot of your typical "crazy party" things. Noise! Liquor! Lights! Absurdly tiny sparkly dresses and way-too-high heels! Beer! Liquor! Sparklers! Liquor! We toured from Uptown all the way through and around the French Quarter, a nice if exhaustive route. And as I glided (almost completely sober!) through this mess of good-natured debauchery, I had a thought that is pretty unusual for me at the most low-key of times and much more so at the present moment:

There is no anxiety. I am calm, with a firm grip on the reigns, and I am having a damn good time.

And it was true. Despite my distressingly poor ability to navigate even a simple grid of streets, the erratic temperature and baromentric conditions in the Quarter, and ragingly drunk tourists and glaring police everywhere, I was fine. I was not panicking, or even nervous. Not about getting accosted, or getting vomit on my shoes (though I was very sensible and careful to avoid both of these situations), or meeting up with the 572 other friends roaming the streets of New Orleans--even having a destination seemed pretty unimportant. This, I must emphasize, is a pretty big deal for me. Even the most mundane plans cause a rumbling of anxiety in my gut, and any kind of "adventure" tends to send it clawing its way up my spinal cord. If I don't have at the very least a written schedule of activities with accompanying time estimates and maps, things go downhill for me and my ability to enjoy the evening very quickly. So aimlessly wandering with my Boy and two friends alongside packs of feral party-goers through the belly of New Orleans without worry? Kind of a big deal. Starting 2012 off right. And hey, it's the last New Year's, so why not?

In the end, we got to our destination and beyond, and then back to the car and subsequent sleeping arrangements without any sort of injury or major expenditure (besides some serious walking time). Pretty damn good. Woke up this morning (um, afternoon), grabbed coffee from my new favorite cafe Uptown, Z'otz, then headed over to my lovely friend Mandi's house for some tasty New Year Gumbo. And still made it back in time for Boyfriend to get to work. New Year Success!

Resolution: Er, be better, I suppose. I bought a pack of foil stars, and am going to mark my calendar with them when I do "good things" -- exercise, make art/writing, do food things that are tasty cheap AND healthy. We shall see!

And lastly (and randomly): I don't know if I'll ever get married. Hell, I don't know if I even want to get married. And I know the following conflicts with my compulsive anxiety as described above. But if I do get married, I can only hope that the wedding will be as amazing as Neil Gaiman and Amanda Palmer's was. Yes, I teared up a bit. Totally worth it.

(Post-) Christmas Hate-ish

So, "Things I Hate" really was supposed to be a serial type deal, because gods know I have enough grievances to make a quasi-infinite list. However, all of my hate-things have been eclipsed these past few days by this really awesome cold. I guess I could have complained some more about that (my boyfriend is certainly tired of hearing about it), but for a while there my typing abilities were reduced to a delirious flail. Any attempt at doing something productive ended in smears of snot and shame. Tried to get some Skyrim time in, but mostly just kept running into walls and setting myself on fire; by the time the talking dog showed up I was pretty much done. Even sleeping was a tough business; the whole breathing things was a tough go, and I kept feeling dehydrated because all of my moisture was seeping in various ways out of my face-holes. It was less pleasant than it sounds.

Oh look, I got some complaining in after all!

Anyways, belated Happy Christmas--


I myself had a fairly lovely Christmas, all snot aside. Did the usual family rigamarole--Boy's Dad's house for breakfast (deer sausage, though-yum!), Boy's Mom's/Grandparents' for lunch, my Mom's for dinner. Went to his other set of grandparents' for Christmas Eve. Got a nice stack of giftcards all around, plus the impression that Boy's Mom's family now thinks I'm a wino? From them, some wineglasses, wine, and electric wine opener. Not that I'm complaining about that. I also really love my Mom's consistently practical-yet-somehow-bizarre choice of stocking stuffer. Last year it was a lint-shaver (sounds dirty, but it's a thing to get those little fuzzies off sweaters); this year it's a can of windshield de-icer, complete with scraper on the end. Keep in mind that this is Louisiana, where we wear tank tops on Christmas Eve. Still, my mom will be damned if her girls aren't prepared for any possible preventable mishaps. That is why I love her.

Now, off to eat some chicken soup (scavenged by wonderful boyfriend from nearby drugstore), and then... maybe something crafty?

Christmas Hate, Part I

In honor of the week of Christmas, which I hate*, I will Grinch-tastically put forth a post (series of posts?) in the spirit of grumbliness...

THINGS I HATE*.

1.) Starting Christmas Way Too Flipping Early.

Since it is now in fact appropriate to celebrate Christmas, I thought I'd start with this now-belated gripe. We've all noticed that Christmas is creeping up ever earlier each year. Thanksgiving has long since been tinseled into oblivion in the frenzy to begin inflating your Santa and playing "Sleigh Ride" as soon as humanly possible. But a countdown to your Christmas countdown is really getting a bit much (I'm looking at you, ABC Family)--and now the sinister jingling of Santa's minions can be heard all the way back in October. Now, buying Christmas tree-shaped candy to hand out to trick-or-treaters is one thing. Natchitoches, Louisiana, takes this holiday territory infringement to a whole 'nother level.

Personal story. I thoroughly enjoy celebrating Halloween. I like spooky things, excessive amounts of candy, fog machines, and slutty costumes as much as the next person. In fact, having been an employee of the 13th Gate Haunted House for several years running, one could make the argument that I enjoyed these things significantly more than the next person. Now, this Halloween was the the first Halloween in four years that I had off (due to aforementioned haunted house), and for boy-friend related reasons, I spent this Weekend of Halloween Freedom in... Natchitoches. I'm the first person to admit that Baton Rouge is lacking in some respects, but it does know how to throw a helluva block party on Halloween. Even if you choose to avoid the boobs-and-vomit allure of Carlotta St., chances are you have some friends in the city somewhere dressed up for drinking and generally a pagan-eqse good time.

This sort of thing is conspicuously missing in Natchitoches.  Approximately two houses in the whole town (a pretty decent percentage, I'll admit) made any attempt at Halloween decoration. There were a few (decidedly uncarved) pumpkins lying around public areas. But overall, Halloween is swept under the rug, probably because Natchitochieans fear immediate possession of the entire town by evil spirits. To avoid such a problem, they skip straight to Christmas. When I arrived the weekend of October 29 - 31, the damn lights were already decking the quaint tableaux of Front Street. Look, I know how exciting Christmas must be for the "City of Lights". But at least throw some plastic skeletons out there for a weekend.



Halloween in Baton Rouge

Approximation of Halloween in Natchitoches. Notice the lack of rave.

2.) Really Aggressive Acorns

This isn't so much of a nationwide issue as the Christmas/Halloween thing above, but it is definitely a more constant source of annoyance in my life. 

Apparently, there are oak or oak-ish trees on the property where I (and several other victims) live. These trees are generally benign. They provide us shade and some contribution of oxygen and a nice earth-toned balance to the horrific salmon-color paint of our house. In return, we do not generally mess with them or pay them much attention at all, really.This relationship holds well for about 3/4 of the year, but then somewhere around what would be considered autumn in states that actually have season, these trees get unaccountably angry and initiate a sort of guerrilla warfare with our roofs and our sanity. At random intervals, they pelt our houses (and cars, and cats) with tiny, high-speed missiles--any time, anywhere. 

"But," one might say, "those are just acorns, which naturally drop from trees at that time of year." Yes, I hear that does happen. But "drop" is not really a verb that can explain the explosive landing force of these death-nuts. "Hurl" or "sling" or "launch"  comes closer, but really, gravity alone will not account for these suckers. I'm not sure if the squirrels have launched some crazed campaign against us, or if the acorns themselves have gained vindictive sentience, but they are relentless. 

Imagine: You're spending a relaxing evening alone and vulnerable in your house, maybe just about to doze off, when

RAT A TAT BAM BAM

sounds not unlike gunfire erupt somewhere very close to your head. Oh no! Is it burglar-rapists? Increasingly negative negotiations spilling over from the nearby ghetto? The Krampus, finally come with punishment in full? Nope, it's just the freaking acorns, propelling themselves full-force at your roof, or walls (somehow?) or, even better, the acoustic amplifier that is your air-conditioner. You finally manage to convince your adrenaline rush to release its grip and begin to doze off again, when

KAPOW CRACKA BOOM

repeat...



Well, that's all the impotent ranting I can muster up for now but there are oh so many things on this list. Updates on hate-worthy things throughout the week, until Christmas finally comes with presents to assuage my awful rage.



*Yes, I know that "hate" is a strong word, and no, I don't hate Christmas or the items discussed above. The feeling is more akin to a disgruntled-frustration-and-annoyance (to varying degrees). I just really didn't want to type that out every time.

Survived another semester, my second to last. This was accomplished, I think, mainly by my becoming more self-dependent/others-avoidant. I have more or less withdrawn into my own little fuzzy stress-bubble of a world, especially in the last few weeks of class, with only a dribble of mutters as my line of communication with the outside world. Honestly, except for the whole stress thing, it was great.

But now that everyone is switching into winter break mode (or winter intersession mode, for my masochistic friends), I am getting dragged out of my shell, out to lunches and hang-outs and bars where I buy drinks I really can't afford. And now that the Boy is back from quaint BFE, I am torn between spending constant nights in with him and fulfilling both my and his social obligations in the outside world. Again, not that bad of a situation, except now I'm spending way too much going-out money when I am now more or less on a fixed income (i.e., no income).

Also on the pro-side and the con-side of my current situation: I have so. much. time. So much. Big, amorphous blobs of time, floating about, smacking me in the face with their gratuitous presence. Yay, I mean, this is what I quit my job for, right? Unfortunately, me being what I am, I mostly just plaster these hours and hours of time with excessive (and I do mean excessive) amounts of sleep. As in, not-wake-up-until-the-sun-is-going-down sleep. It's getting to be kind of a grotesque situation.  I broke out of the rut today by waking up "early" (before noon) to go have lunch with a friend... then came home and went back to sleep. Ok, it's a problem.

So with one month left of the winter holiday, I am going to do something. Preferably several things. No list of goals this time around, at least not yet. But thanks to my new buddy Pintrest, I can give some vague idea of, well, ideas that I like. (See also tasty things that I like, most of which I think are within my realm of ability.) So basically I intend to root around in crafty things, make some motion towards working out, and devour on the cheap some tasty, tasty things. There are worse plans, right?

Thankful Time!

I guess it's about time to be thankful for things.

I am thankful that the weather today was unbelievably beautiful, and that I was forced to spend a good prat of the day outside on a well-decorated patio.

I am thankful to have a Cajun family that sends large amounts of tasty leftovers home with me. Always.

I am thankful that I do not have children.

I am thankful to have left my serving job that was becoming a huge drain on my soul. That is, I am thankful to have the resources to be able to do this sort of thing and continue my education while maintaining my current standard of living.

With that being said, I am thankful that I also have a potential copy-editing type job on the horizon.

I am thankful that there are only a couple of weeks left in the semester, and I am (almost, pretty much) caught up with all my work.

Also thankful I only have one semester left after this.

I am thankful that my loving, handsome, wonderful boyfriend is home for the week, and that when I fall asleep at night and wake up in the morning, he is there next to me--as things should be.

And of course, I am so thankful to have friends and family who not only love me, but who take genuine interest in my well-being and who are generally awesome, fun-to-be-around, intelligent, caring people!

So....Thanks!

More Pros than Cons, really

Up before noon on a day I don't have to be, so yay... but this required my sleeping through most of yesterday evening. What is wrong with me? Surely people should be able to get by without 14 hours of sleep, even on their day off?

Went to the coffee shop, and the woman behind me enthused wondrously about my hair for a few minutes. "Freaking awesome," she says. And me not having showered in two days and not a brush to my name at the moment. So either an esteem boost on my part or a poor judgement call on hers. Possibly both. A nice moment anyway.

In other, geekier personal news, I really really really want to play Skyrim.

Unfortunately, my desktop computer (past its prime but still theoretically able to run Skyrim) is down for the count-- either the video card is fried (boo) or the motherboard (double boo!). It's been out for a while, and I was going to wait until the winter break to get it fixed, so I didn't have a high-resolution, totally immersive monkey on my back for the last few weeks of the semester. But now everyone is gabbling constantly about it and I am practically vomiting with envy. Want. Okay, /geekout.

Time to go try to be productive in the few hours I actually have before work (only three shifts left--so excited!) And to go shower, no matter what that lady said about my hair.

Home is where the... what, exactly?

So I've been spending this week at my mother's house. They say you can never go back home, but if your mom lives in town, you can sure as hell go to her house for a home-cooked meal and some TLC. It's actually a pretty inconvenient place to stay, considering it's about half an hour farther away from campus and my job than my actual residence is. (But that's a big reason why I don't actually live here.) However, there is always coffee made for me in the morning, breakfast usually, and tasty dinner-- which is way more than I can say for my place right now. I guess living solely on my own for the first time is really getting to me-- not to mention severe senioritis and  the onset of, if not an existential crisis exactly, then at least severe life apathy. The semblance of family life, even the most hectic and dysfunctional, kind of brings me back into things, I guess.  Even if this house has never really been home for me, it has been a sanctuary in times of crises (over-dramatic term, that... I really mean loneliness.) So I'm thankful for that.