(no subject)

The window gate guy called and asked me if I'd moved all the furniture so they could install the gates. While this should have, probably, been obvious to me, it wasn't, and everything is still a mess from the robbery.

I panicked and told him I hadn't and couldn't by myself and did we need to reschedule and would it cost even more. I haven't been well, I said, since the robbery. Who the fuck says that? What sort of complete weakling am I?

So he said we'd work it out and now I'm cleaning the bedroom frantically so we can move furniture and they stole the diamond and ruby (cheap, shitty) earrings my racist, anti-semitic grandmother left me and did I think I was okay?

Hahahahaahah.

sundries

- Everything is installed. I actually had cash to tip the guy (I never, ever have cash), and it's over. And I cleaned a lot more. And of course I feel all emotionally crazy again (but I am not having a panic attack, and I am not in pysical pain, which is more than I can say about last week)

- The mouse remains unconquered.

- I get to go to fencing tonight. I've not been writing about it lately and I've only been going once a week since the crisis stuff started, but I have been going. My technique got weak with the lack of regular scheduling that began in August, but I'm becoming a smarter and smarter fencer and a less fearful/more agressive one.

There are moments where I don't care about it at all anymore, where it doesn't change me, where it doesn't feel real, where it's just a game, where I know I was never meant to fight anything in any way and I feel like an idiot for ever thinking otherwise. Why do I do this?

And then there are moments where it's like the only thing I was ever made for, and it saved me, you know. Fencing is very very complicated, both as an act and as a thing in my head, and my fencing master is right, it is like a mistress. Somehow that is only clear today.

- I saw my father last night. He lost 30 pounds in the hospital. This is a good thing. A bad thing is the way he shuffles now, the way he hunches over. My father was never a big man, not really, a bit overweight and only 5'10", but you know how yuo all think I'm taller than I am? I learned that first not from books or movies or acting class, but from my father and from Madison Avenue, and the shuffling drives me crazy, not because he is old and weak, but because he doesn't have to shuffle. He shuffles because he is afraid and tired. My father has always been both, but he used to hide it better.

If any of you don't know, my mother is much much younger thang my father. Surely, she's known for about 40 years that this is what she signed up for. But she didn't, not really, until this week.

She kept calling him "daddy" last night when she spoke to me about him. "His name is Jim," I said. "Surely, there's been enough indignities this week that you can use his name in my presence." She laughed, but we all know, we all have to know that that was the moment where everything changed, even if we can't tell how yet.

We haven't told my father about the burglary for the sake of his blood pressure. That's going to be awkward soon when he asks me to come over and photo things for him (as he often does).

- I'm pretty rad in a crisis. And pretty good at functioning in spite of one. I suck at the aftermath, though. I suck in the do nothing hours of the dark.

- I have a million coping mechanisms for when I have to be strong. and a million more for when I have to endure. I know the lives to borrow for that, the names, the men, and the bitter jokes. But despite how often I do it, I haven't the slightest idea how to have a good cry and then not linger on it in frustration. We are none of us entirely what we wish, but then none of us, not even me, actually get script writers.

- My desk area still isn't really useable, but today is the first day since I've got my own computer on and can manage some typing at it.

- I also can't find the tiny little attachment for my iPod that lets me record audio to it. I doubt they stole it because I don't see why they would know what it is. I just hope it wasn't crushed under foot somewhere, as Patty and I use it for messages to email when she is away, and I also use it for podfics and the like. In the scheme of things, it's relatively cheap to replace ($70) but that list doesn't need to get longer.

- I did find my wings. Undamaged.

- Gah. Off to work.

I shouldn't even be looking

But I found something on Ebay that may be perfect for a coat for my Jack cosplay. I have emailed marchek for her expert advice.

What I really shouldn't be looking at is a 1969 Piper Navajo. Although gawking about at planes online will be a shittier vice in a year or two when I finally finish my license.

ETA: getting more measurements. realized coat is in NYC. may be going to see it in person if the numbers seem plausible. *fingers crossed*

Gallifrey One

I am now holding two rooms for Thurs - Sun nights at Gallifrey One at con rates. This is a minor miracle, as the room block has sold out repeatedly and you may be shit out of luck by now. If space if available in said rooms, I'll post here once my immediate group confirms their plans. If you are interested in being in one of our rooms, let me know, as there will be at least a space or two even if my whole current grouping is in.