Ought not to write

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Because I’m tired and tipsy. It’s been an odd week. I got a lot accomplished over the weekend, and then blew it by wasting much of the first half of the week. GB and guest are going to be in Houston this weekend, but doing their own thang. Still, I’m having imaginary conversations where I’m asked to put them up on short notice, and then get into arguments because I’m being too nice and I want a couple of small concessions. Imaginary conversations are really not helpful.

Freelance graphics and proofreading work is cutting into my last-minute jewelrymaking time. Oof, I’m just too tired to get into this. Bed. Sleep. Cats.

Car epilogue

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The Subaru is nice. I’m getting familiar with it. One of the things I miss most is the not-power-steering of the Honda Civic. I loved manhandling that steering wheel; I didn’t know how much.

But I’m glad I got what I got. It’s pretty, in a tough, muscular way. This car apparently has a name, but not necessarily a sex. It’s Orlando. Which is a movie I need to rewatch at some point. I’m glad I didn’t get a Honda Fit. I probably could have been quite happy with a VW Golf, but I think the Subaru Impreza is the better car. And it’s a freakin’ station wagon. It really looks like a wagon as opposed to a hatchback. Semantics. It’s a nice car, and we’re getting to know each other better. There’s no love at first sight like before, but when I fell for the Civic, I was getting rid of the POS Cavalier, so there was that.

Posted in car

Anonymous anonymous

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I way, way overslept this morning. Of course I was up really late last night, but I can’t remember the last time I slept until 11:30. The Art Car Parade is today, and the oversleeping really put a kink in my usual plans to walk up and down the lineup before the parade starts. But I decided to forego the shower and hit the road. For the sake of efficiency, I wanted to achieve total anonymity so that I could spend all my time looking and not talking to anyone. Of course, I’m usually anonymous, but I almost always run into people I know at the Art Car Parade, and I really wanted to avoid that this year.

Actually, it was pretty easy. Jeans and a plain nondescript t-shirt. Flip flops, which I almost never wear in public. Big hat and sunglasses. No particularly identifiable jewelry. My hair is really short right now, and few people have seen it since I got it cut the second time. So, total anonymity achieved. Oddly enough, I only saw one person I recognized, and I’d have been hard pressed to remember his name on the spot. It was either Pat or Mark from Radio Music Theatre. He was on a bike, wearing an RMT shirt. Without the shirt, I probably wouldn’t have recognized him.

There weren’t really any significant new cars in the parade. I did stop and talk a bit to the ping pong ball/deelybobber car guy, just to tell him how much I’ve always liked his car. I think he appreciated it. Other than that, there was a collection of lowriders with some spectacular paint jobs and interiors. I have no idea how they get that slick, glittery finish that looks like it’s an inch deep. Gorgeous.

I’ve got two possible concerts to attend tonight, but I’m grooving on the solitude right now. While I do have a couple of to-do list items to accomplish, I think I’m going to just dive into whichever project speaks to me.

Day after birthday

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The birthday was nice. I had a good time. My sister spoils me something rotten. I’m a little sore in odd places, and I think it’s from the olympic sneezing I did yesterday.

So, I’m 45. I woke up very well this morning, in a clean house, with happy cats. By this weekend, I’ll have a new car and all the money questions will be tacked down. There will still be money issues, but not money questions.

I might write a Car Story note on FB. Just to summarize the whole thing. Or I might not, because fuck ‘em. I know why I love my Honda Civic. I know why I’m getting a new car. Anybody that really knows me knows the story. Anybody that doesn’t, fuck ‘em.

I suppose GB will call tonight. I need to make sure I get shit done before he does, because I’ll probably lose that time altogether. It’s interesting how I don’t miss him after a while.

 

Easter

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So I had a market day yesterday, and slept 10 hours last night. It wasn’t particularly hot or strenuous, I’m sharing the booth, but still I was wiped out at the end. I suppose if I had to do more stuff, I could have. But I didn’t, so I crashed. I saw a video of an 86-year-old gymnast with better strength and form than I had at age 10. At the same time, I’m not experiencing tendonitis, back pain, any kind of physical breakdown except for the growing need for reading glasses. I’m a little overweight, the same amount that I have been for some years.

CC had several friends stop by the booth. I don’t remember anyone’s name. I have struck up a nice friendship with CC, but it doesn’t extend outward. I’m nice but not friendly. It’s possible that all the small talk with strangers, and being aware of how antisocial I am, is what really tired me out yesterday. But I like sharing a booth with CC. It’s positive in a lot of ways.

I can tell that this is probably going to be a very lonely day. GB and I were having long late conversations earlier this week. On the one hand, really nice. On the other hand, reminding me, fairly easily, that it’s such a very good idea for us to not be physically intimate. But now it’s been a few days. We’ve emailed/messaged about little important things, but there have not been conversations. My last reach-out was last night. Now I’m going to hold off on nonessential communication, or else I’ll start to feel wrong and stupid.

So I think I’ll fall back on the old standbys. Candles and a little piñon incense. Tea now, wine tonight. Clean, organize, make. I named this as photography day, and I have all day, so I really should get something done there.

I need to make birthday weekend plans. I think it’s going to be me and my car, our last weekend. Dammit, I’m going to miss this car so much. I’ve been trying to put it in perspective. I’ve been thinking about the Datsun 210 station wagon. That was bought new in 1979, and it ended up with M after the divorce. Of course maintenance is not her strength, and it probably wasn’t that sturdy to begin with. I finally got the car in 1986 or 1987, after going carless my freshman year. I really liked that car, too, and I kept it running. The starter button. The quarts of oil it burned weekly. The battery silliness. I complained about it, and it took all of us a while to realize I wanted the title, ownership. If I had the responsibility, I wanted the authority, too. I can’t believe it was only 10 years old when I sold it. For $600, I think.

Anyway, I didn’t personally buy that car, but I remember seeing it on the Dotson Datsun lot, and I really did love it. The 1989 Chevy Cavalier I had 1990-1995 was a POS. I had picked it from some basic research, or maybe D helped me, but it was crap. Also not a hatchback, automatic transmission, silver, domestic – all things I still hold against cars to some extent. But that was the anomaly. I loved the tan 1979 Datsun 210 wagon. I love the white 1995 Honda Civic hatchback. I think I may fall madly in love with the blue 2012 Subaru Impreza hatchback. I’ve only test-driven a black Sport model, which has a roof rack, leather, etc. I sent a showroom picture of a blue car like the one I’m getting to my folks. And I’m struck by the similarity of appearance in the photo to my Honda. I’m hoping I’ll lay my eyes on it and fall instantly in love again. That’ll make it okay. It’s not just my Honda. It’s my limited collection of Japanese manual transmission hatchbacks/wagons. That get driven for a very long time.

Today or so

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  • I will never regret going to a yoga class. It’s never a waste of time.
  • I had a typo in an email address on a website, which is really embarrassing.
  • Trying to make things easier on myself isn’t always easy.
  • Making stuff takes an awful long time sometimes.
  • Maybe these should be bullet points.
  • I really like red wine.
  • I can deal with reading glasses.
  • Finding out and doing kills apprehension, but it’s still hard to get there.
  • I’m glad I’m getting my locks changed. I couldn’t relax about it.

End of March

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Well, March has been insanely busy and reasonably successful. Not exactly profitable, as I sank my profits back into sterling jewelry components. I’ve been all jittery and oversensitive this week. At first I thought it was just exhaustion from the weekend. Could be hormones, too. And reasons and excuses are great and all, but I haven’t been able to shake it. So I decided to take tomorrow off. As soon as I got my boss’s signoff, I felt better. It’s a very good thing to do before performing in Austin, I think.

So tomorrow will be about relaxing. I know I can do the To Do list stuff as I go. Tomorrow I knit and watch TV. I scheduled a mani-pedi. I don’t particularly care for manicures or pedicures, but my cuticles are atrocious. And hopefully I’ll get a good foot massage. And then I’ll get all inspired at Beth Patterson’s house concert.

I might just trade in my beloved car after all. Nobody will be judging me except for me. If I can get okay with the idea, it’ll just be so much simpler. It’s something that started rolling around in my brain last night. Maybe this is why I’m taking so long to get a new car. All my thoughts and feelings have to evolve.

March = DFW

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Oh my. Here I am at Motel 6 in Dallas. The Dallas Quilt Festival starts tomorrow morning, Friday through Sunday. I actually got the booth together in about three hours, and it’s good. But I did it on an empty stomach. And there is just nothing as far as restaurants in this part of town. I’m about to drop at 11 pm, which is way early.

I’ve got an outdoor weekend show in Arlington in a couple of weeks. As wiped out as I am right now, I’ve got to think hard about how I do this. I was just planning to do what I did this time, get up early and drive and set up all at once. Now, on the one hand, I can set up outdoor faster than indoor. But on the other hand, I’m actually selling from 3 pm until at least 9 pm. Maybe I should drive up Thursday night. But I won’t be able to leave until after rehearsal, maybe 10:30 pm. What’s the difference between rolling in to the motel at 4 am and sleeping a few hours, then setting up, and sleeping at home and doing it all in one day? I think as long as I can find time to eat when I need to, I’ll be okay.

I’m really done for tonight. But I think, I hope it’ll be a successful weekend. I’m glad I can do this solo, hard as it is.

So very late

I just literally guzzled a glass of wine, and it’s starting to take effect. I have crocheted and blocked like a lacy demon this weekend. Pretzeled myself good. Now, no more crocheting (probably). Just lots of jewelry assembly for the next 1.5 weeks. I’ll have to take it with me to Dallas, I’m sure.

There are no phone calls. I’m not surprised. I still sometimes work myself into a lather, and then I’m annoyed with myself. I have literally tried everything. I have tried considerably more than I should. I have tried so hard, I’ve made things worse. I’m not sorry, because hey, whatever works to make the break 100%. I just want to be able to blow it off now. Hold him in benign pity.

Anyway, it’s almost 3:30 am, so I can get about 5.5 hours of sleep in tonight. I’m hungry, of course. Too bad.

Plenty of jewelry, though, and some really nice colors. I am pretty invincible. I can do ALL THE SHIT.