Photographs: November 2008 Archives

Feeling better today. Had a strange but pleasant dream about having a loooong date with a friend of a friend; someone I actually know in real life and had briefly been interested in before dismissing him as likely too far out in the stratosphere for me. By which I mean odd, rather than unattainable.

I know, you'd think no one could be too odd for me...

Anyway, it still made for a pleasant dream, even though it ended with the kind of transportational hassle that's a very realistic outcome of traveling anywhere by MTA.

Also, I did go bowling yesterday, and I did my special lane-dance, and I got lots of hugs from Special J, and I got to hang out with Miz Fury and her really very excellent boyfriend, and even when they were being cuddly, it made me feel warm and happy for them, rather than painfully envious, so it was all good.

And then I rode over to Fury's house and ate some (okay, a lot) of their Thanksgiving leftovers, and then hauled my very full tummy through the dark, quiet streets and curled up with my kitty and knit some, which is pretty much what we're doing today, too.

J and I had planned to meet for brunch and some shoppingish errands, but she woke up feeling awful, and the weather is hideous, so we decided to postpone for a more auspicious time. Which is good because:

a) some days there isn't enough Gore-Tex in the world to make it nice out, and
b) I really need to make some headway on my gift knitting.

So here is a pretty pink cowl I'm making for a bike friend, and then there will be the gloves for the boy who's killing me softly, and then there will be a hat for another bike friend, and then the fingerless mittens and cowl for sis, and then many tiny cute hats for nieces, and then something for my mom, and then....my fingers will fall off and I'll still have several more people to manage gifts for.

I've noticed during the month of almost-daily posting that writing something every day sometimes helps me figure out what the state of my own head is. It's not that I end up seeing clearly or anything, but it's like getting a little compass reading. This day the compass is pointing southerly, toward fairer winds.

PS. Yes, that blur in the middle photo is Kitwich leaping into the frame. She has a passion for this yarn.

I liked this idea, and when I went to do it myself, found something equally funny. Claudia's randomly chosen pic was of sheep, which figures. My randomly chosen pic was of this darling girl and her equally darling bicycle. Which also figures.

I guess whoever we are, we leave a trail of imprints from our obsessions wherever we go, like breadcrumbs to find our way back to ourselves if we should get lost.

That's the second time in a week that I've used that phrase or something close to it - I think I must be feeling a little lost, wondering where my inner lounge chair is. It's a bit fluttery in here of late. Not sure what to do about that, other than just to hold on and wait it out.

Anyway, it was a beautiful day here, and then turned far colder than I'd expected. All I really wanted, at the end of it, was a hot shower, with this. I'm sure a visitor (not that I have any) would find it odd that I have three different soaps "going" at once, but I'm a fickle girl that way. I want what I want when I want it. And so, at least in the realm of soap, I give it to myself.

Would that other areas of life were as simple.

The funny thing is, when I was unscrewing a lightbulb to change it, and the whole wall-mounted unit thing shorted out with that curious small explosion noise, taking the wall outlets out with it, I didn't think I'd find myself enjoying having to shower by candlelight.

You just never know, I guess.

I'll call the super tomorrow, I suppose - particularly since I'll have company staying with me later in this week (who may or may not appreciate that "living in the dark ages" look), but for now it's kind of preindustrial in the bathroom at night - apart from those most marvelous inventions: hot and cold running water and a flush toilet (and I pray those keep working) - and there's something romantic about it.

I have to light the candles every evening, and I get to see myself lit from below, in that soft, warm, almost rosy light. Makes me feel quieter, somehow.

Here's a blast from the past for you. Some of my longer-term readers may remember these charmers from the blog in its previous incarnation, prior to the Great Movable Type Crash of 2007 which rendered my older posts inaccessible.

I was sifting through some photos on my Other Computer last night, looking for ones I'd like to get enlarged for my living room (gotta have the Smoothies, right?), and came upon these fellows, and thought you might enjoy seeing them again (or for the first time). One of my favorite pics ever.

Anyway, several things occur to me this morning, so in no particular order....

It would be really swell, some days, to have a stainless steel heart.

It's not that everything (or maybe even anything) is irretrievably vanished into hell-in-a-handbasket territory - perhaps far from it (fucked if I know - I can't see clearly). But damn am I tired of having that wrung out feeling, like somebody's been having at this ol' heart of mine with a mess of 60-grit sandpaper.

And I had the ill fortune to end up being designated photographer last night, so now I have a series of horribly charming photos of the boy in question all over my computer like a lust-inducing infestation.

Got on my fast bike last night and rode faster and harder than I think I've ever ridden in my life. It was like I'd suddenly become a racehorse and HAD TO RUNNNNNNNN.

Couldn't help it. I was actually delighted when I was finally alone so I could peel out and ride as fast as I wanted to. Rainy empty streets, the sound of chain (time for a little lube, I think), my legs yanking the pedals around so hard I could feel my tendons pulling. I growled and roared as I went. I'm sure the spectacle was on the hilarious side, who gives a damn, really?

One block away from home, I have to wait at a light for traffic to clear and start to fall asleep sitting on my top tube. Then I start out again, and suddenly it's as if someone's thrown a brick wall in front of me. All of it catches up with me, the wrenching exhaustion, the frustration, the anxiety. Get home.

Photos, cat. Big noise right at our open window and both cat and I rush to it and stick our heads out, together, heads bumping into each other, "What's that? what's that?"

Then she head-butts me, as if to say, "Oh, you're helping me guard the castle tonight? I'm glad!"

Me too, sweetie, me too.