sundries

- 29 days.

- Today is a bit of shopping and sewing for tomorrow. Apparently, I'm going to be parting my hair to side, slicking it back and then pinning parts of it under. This is evoking, for me, moments of high school when I did just that, for reasons too embarrassing to get into mainly because I did it badly. So I hope it even half works. It'd be nice to have friends and be hot all at once like that. It's hard to explain. chite knows, but I hope respects my rather fragile dignity on this one.

- Still haven't decided if I should do half of fencing class tomorrow before the thing. I could. And it might put me in the right mood. It also might make me tired, sweaty and rushed, and none of those things are particularly fun-inspiring. I think this is one of those situations without a correct answer.

- Work, oh work! It's going to be a long day.

- Reading Another Life (yes, it's another Torchwood book), which is actually written like a book. A detective novel really, which is the sort of cadence that doesn't really work for me. But what's interesting about it is the really weird, oddly lovely details that appear for no reason at all from time to time -- like the bit about Jack trying to grow coral in an ashtray on his desk. It was very what the fuck and oddly sweet to me. Yeah, I'm damaged, we know.

- The blessing that the iPod is remains huge.

- Note to self. You own fabulous cufflinks. You have almost no shirts that take cufflinks. And now you want to buy more cufflinks? *eyeroll*. Get the horse and cart in the right order please!

- Gah, that reminds me, I really need to pick up my dry cleaning.

- Read a bit of Twilight in the bookstore the other day. Tell me it has some redeeming value other than the brat narration voice that has taken over YA literature, wedding porn and a "vampires say abstinence is hot" agenda? Because I respect you guys, but yikes. Why do you love these books?

- I have a lot of outstanding pro-fic that needs to be dealt with this weekend.

- I also have more Jack/Annie stuff floating around and I think a porntastic Jack/Ianto idea (finally) that sort of involves Gwen being an idiot, but not in a hateful way. She's just really useful as a nosey plot device.

- I will not set anything on fire, tempting and occasionally appropriate though it may be.

- The worst thing about one's 30s is discovering that it's not actually technically possible to be gifted at anything anymore because one is expected to be successful. And living ridiculously just isn't the sort of thing people have enough regard for. Or something. Stupid, stupid pothos. Stupid.

Voice Post

ridiculous shopping trip report

For all my genderqueer and costuming stuff, you'd think I'd be comfortable shopping anywhere I damn please. But I'm not. In fact, the thought of going into the mens or boys department at any store absolutely paralyzes me to the point of not even wanting to pursue whatever thing I'm pursuing when the need arises.

I'm not sure why. Afraid at being caught at soething maybe -- although whether I'm afraid at being caught at being female or being weird or just randomly incompetent of some ettiquette I am not aware of, I am not sure.

I always try to make up cover stories in my head. So I have something to say if someone challenges me, which has never happened of course. I'm just some chick shopping for her man or her son or whatever. I'm old enough to have a son. I kept telling myself that today in Macy's while looking at boys dress shirts in medium blue. Size 20 fits. Thank god for small favours. That said, if I want for cufflinks, I'm going to have to have some shirts made, which I keep meaning to do anyway. So yeah.

So between that and a stop at that weird discount store that sells the Sarah Jessica Parker line (side note, they had this HIDEOUS pair of blue pinstripe pants that was so perfect I could die, but not in my size. Tragedy or great blessing to all who know me? Also, why is seer sucker drawing me like a magnet lately -- also not in my size), and the braces that came in the other day, I have a totally fabulous outfit for tomorrow, except that I need to sew buttons into teh pants for the braces and I really need to find a pair of shoes that's remotely reasonable. The tragic demise of my oxblood wingtips is REALLY fucking tragic right now.

Gah. The whole experience was dreadful. But I'm mighty pleased with myself. And I could totally get away with wearing the whole shebang to the office, except I'd spend all day cracking myself up and I'm too busy for that shit. I cannot believe I found pants that fit me that actually sit on my waist and as long as I stand properly don't make me look all hip-y.