Crawling From the Covers
Woke up this morning feeling old, tired, and defeated (and obviously quite sorry for myself).
Happily, that cloud has receded and I’m feeling almost human now. And I haven’t even had any caffeine yet today!
On the other hand, that means now I have to face the lengthy list of things I have to do today for work, home, and the upcoming con. But at least now I can look them all in the eye and feel a bit confident. That’s really the biggest part of my efforts to retrain myself over the last year or so… replacing “I can’t do this” with “let’s give it a try”.
I was practically manic at the beginning of this week. I like the feeling, because in that mode I figure I can do absolutely anything, and I indeed tend to get a few thigns accomplished. The only downside is the slew of unwise decisions I start making until I crash out of it, or someone points out reality to me.
Really, a middle road would work much better. I need the set of Google Maps for my psyche. (Hmm… “Here there be dragons?”)
In the Key of Ow
My morning routine changed today. I think I like the new version:
1) Wake up, slowly, a few minutes before the alarm. Don’t go back to sleep. Body will thank you for not cramming adrenaline into it so early.
2) Do morning e-mail and webcomic troll as usual to activate brain.
3) Once brain is functional enough, make and eat breakfast. Do not wait until you’re running out the door to shove breakfast down throat.
4) Shower, dress, and leave for work.
This works far better than previous routines. Let’s see if I can keep it up.
Last night, I went to see the Dresden Dolls at the Norva. They’re an extremely offbeat duo, but I was hooked on my first listening by their wild energy, odd humor, and musical skill. Amanda Palmer plays her keyboard like an insane person, hitting the keys with the flats of her fingers, rocking back and forth on her stool, tucking a knee under her chin, and yet delivering one of the most complex and precise performances I’ve ever heard. Translate that to drums, and you have Brian Viglione’s playing; on top of that, they seem to telepathically communicate during the show, improvising crazily and yet in sync. I had to go.
My body regrets that today. There’s little-to-no seating there, and my left knee can honestly barely support me today after 5.5 hours of standing. I am seriously considering bringing the forearm crutches to my next Norva show, to help hold me up. However, it was certainly worth it – they played my favorites, “Coin-Operated Boy” and “Girl Anachronism“, new material, and material they’re preparing for their next album. For a closer, they dragged audience members and the opening act to the stage to perform Led Zepplin’s “Immigrant Song” and then cleared everyone off for their cover of Black Sabbath’s “War Pigs”. You cannot understand how awesome that was without having been there 🙂
The oddest part: in my head, people are rated “real” by the amount with which I personally get to interact with them. For example. Bill Shatner is not especially real to me – I’ve only seen him on TV and movie screens. Leonard Nimoy is slightly more so, since I’ve been in the same room with him, but separated by a stage and a couple dozen yards. George Takei I’ve spoken to briefly, but Spice Williams and I have had a lengthy conversation.
Well, Amanda unexpectedly came down from the stage in the middle of one of her songs, and continued singing as she walked around the balcony and through the fans on the floor, passing within a yard of me several times. Suddenly, her ‘real’ quotient in my head jumped dramatically, and I was quite surprised. (I was proud of my fellow Virginians, who did not mob or crowd her, but let her move freely around and respected her performance. One lady, sadly, took the chance to grope her quite unsubtly, which rattled Amanda enough that she expressed her distress on her return to the keyboard. But it didn’t dampen the evening.)
I’m pleased with the way the week’s started. I even bumped into a White Plectrum fan on the way to the concert. (“I recognize the jacket – did you work with the filk singer? I love his stuff, I can’t believe you live around here!”) Now I am sending down more blessed ibuprofen to quiet this stupid knee.
Dream A Dream
“What are your dreams?” I was asked. I couldn’t answer – I wasn’t sure.
I’ve been spending a lot of years focused on making it to the next day. If I thought extremely far ahead, I made plans for two weeks away. I’m not saying it was a daily struggle for food and shelter – I’ve been fairly comfortable the whole time. My dreams got little thought, though. I was busy.
What have my dreams been in the past?
– I wanted to be a starship crewman. (Well, I’m working for NASA. Not bad.)
– I wanted to be an experimental particle physicist. (Less interesting to me now as a career, plus I’d need to devote something like 15 years to catch up to that horse.)
– I wanted to be a well-known movie and TV actor. (I’m having plenty of fun, and eating better, doing that as an occasional hobby.)
– I wanted to be an airplane pilot. (After my trip up two Novembers ago, I’ve decided to go after my license as soon as my slowly-increasing savings will support that.)
– I wanted to be a well-known novelist. (Still not impossible, though I’ve done pathetically little toward that dream in the last years.)
There are one or two others, but those are the oldest ones. The next question is, what are my dreams for the future? It looks like some of those carry over, but I ask myself now not only what I want to be, but what do I want to do? (A clearly related matter.)
Worth some introspection.
Late Thoughts on a Passing Solstice
The first time I hear “Christmas Eve – Sarajevo 12/24” every year, my calm, measured exterior cracks and emotion pours out of me. I know I ought to specify which emotion, but it’s actually hard to decipher which one.
I have always liked “The Carol of the Bells,” and this specific version speaks to me of the ability of beauty and hope to survive even the most awful of circumstances. The music here is determined, defiant, even angry, as if facing entropy squarely and shouting “You Cannot Pass!”
For much of my life, I’ve been short on hope, and kept myself going on basic stubbornness. I’ve come to realize that the two have more in common than I thought, and that they’re both ways of standing up and saying to a rough universe, “I’m going to make my part of the world a better place… even knowing that you’ll probably make it difficult. I don’t care.”
Fine sentiment, in my book.
We’ve made it through the dark days again, and light and warmth are once more on their way. Happy Holidays, everyone!
Relocating the center
This is the first Saturday in weeks, if not months, where I could sleep in, Starr didn’t have to go to work, and we have no obligations at all today, social or chore-based.
I have really needed this. It won’t even last the weekend, but that’s okay. Thank you, universe, for this early Xmas present.
(Also, the days will be getting longer again starting today. I needed that really badly too!)
