There's nothing like a crush...

...to make you feel like a schoolgirl again.

Yeesh.

You'd think, that by 32, I'd be past this whole crush thing.  Nope.  But you know what?  I'm going to just go with it.  Because he's smart, he's attractive, and he does nice things for me.  I don't know if he's actually interested in me or not, but that's okay.  I'm going to enjoy looking at him, and chatting with him, and I'm not going to let myself over-analyze every little move he makes.

But getting a mix cd is a good sign, right?  Even if it was more than a year ago?  And flowers from his garden two years ago?

No! Stop!  No analyzing!

A Little Compliment Never Hurts

Last weekend I went out the Georgia Renaissance Festival for the first time.  It was kind of cool out, and rainy, and muddy, and I went alone.  I wasn't sure I was going to enjoy myself, but I figured that if I didn't, I could blame it on the crummy weather and just try again later with some friends.

I had a great time.

Since it was icky outside, it wasn't very busy.  I could walk around without bumping into people, which is always nice.  I didn't have to worry about being too hot.  I could take my time browsing the stalls and shops, and not worry about being in anyone's way.  It took the better part of four hours to make one circuit of the place, and that was without stopping everywhere.

The shows were entertaining, too - rather adult humor, even in front of kidlets, but since I had no kidlets along, I didn't really care ;)  I'd definitely like to go back and intentionally seek out some performances, rather than just stumbling upon them.

I actually spent about an hour at one shop, though I had planned to just ask a quick question and leave.  They sold boots, and I always have a heck of a time finding boots.  I have teeny, tiny little feet (I usually wear kids' shoes, and at best, a woman's 5), but big ol' calves from much tap dancing.  Trying to find boots is tough work.

So I stopped in, and looked.  The guy (Brian) told me that  I really needed to try the boots on to see how they fit.  And I did.  Rather, I let him put me into a boot.  And wow.  It was awesome.  Of course, the top edges just barely met, so if I get a pair, I'll have to special order them so they can be made wide enough, but still.  It was nice to see that I'm not that far off from the standard sizing.

What was even nicer, though, was when Brian asked to play dress-up with me. (And yes, that's what he called it.)  He disappeared into the back, and came out with an armful of things for me to try on - long leather vests, a corset-style vest, a coat, a wrap shirt - all made of such soft, lovely leather.

Even better than all the lovely things, though, was what he said to me: "You've got the body of a real woman.  That's an hourglass figure."

I think that might have been the best I've felt about myself in weeks.

So thanks, Brian.  You made my day. (Sorry I couldn't afford the $500 boots!)

Alpha or beta?

I've been watching a lot of TV lately.  Well, not so much TV as Netflix.  I've been watching Bones and Firefly, mostly, and I've realized that in both shows, I've got crushes.

Okay, not a big surprise. Lots of people have TV crushes. What I've noticed, though, is that on each show, I've got two.  And they're different character types (within each show, not between the shows... just keep reading, it'll get clear!)

On Firefly, I'm torn between Mal and Simon. Yeah, two very different personalities. And on Bones, it's Booth and Sweets.

So here's what I'm thinking: I don't know what I want.  Do I want Mal and Booth?  They're these larger-than-life heroes. They sweep in and save the day. They're brawn with brains, but the brawn gets used more. They know what they want, and they take it. Neither is much for a deep talk about feelings and such, and that's just part of who they are.

And then we have Simon and Sweets. Doctors. Brains before brawn, although both have shown that they're not completely useless when it comes to being physical. They also know what they want, but they're not as direct in trying to get it. They're willing to talk things out. They might talk a little too much.

Mal and Booth are your standard Alpha males, and compared to them, Simon and Sweets are beta.  And I'm crushing on all four of them. If you made me choose, I don't know if I could.

Funny, these TV characters have traits that are reflected in a couple of real-life men that I'm interested in. Wait. No, that's not actually funny at all, is it? Because as much as I am unable to make a decision about which character I prefer, I am equally unable to make a decision about which of these real-life men would make a better date. How do I handle this? I write them into a story and avoid the actual decision altogether.

Isn't that the reasonable thing to do?

First Kisses

I've been watching Bones lately - just got Netflix, and I'm totally catching up on a pile of shows that I didn't manage to catch the first time around.

Anyways, I just saw the episode where Angela and Hodgins had their first kiss, and as I was watching it, I suddenly remembered just how a first kiss feels...

There's the tingle all the way to your fingertips, the anticipation.  Your heart speeds up, fluttering instead of beating in that moment where everything stops - the moment when you look at him, and he looks at you, and you just know that it's about to happen.

You can smell him in that moment.  His shampoo, his cologne, the gum he's been chewing in the hopes that this moment would arise.  He smells good, because if he didn't, the moment would pass and you would politely say goodnight and walk away.

You move closer together, slowly, and you can feel his breath on your face, and you're thankful that you had those two sticks of gum in your purse after dinner. There's a brief pause, and you can tell that he's watching for your reaction, needing to be certain that you want this as much as he does.  And then you're moving again, and you're looking at him, until he's too close for you to focus, so your eyes close, trusting your instincts to bring you together.

And finally!  His lips touch yours, just a soft brush at first, testing the waters.  And then, with both of you abandoning your doubts and insecurities, your lips touch again, more firmly, drawing on each other...  And your heart is still fluttering.

I hate exercise

I was reminded of that fact this morning.  Actually, I've been reminded of it every morning for two weeks now. Yes, I'm doing exercise stuff in the mornings.  Yes, I may have lost my mind a bit.  But thanks to that extra daily activity, I haven't gained any weight yet this holiday season, so I suppose it's a good thing.  My clothes still fit.

It's not that I don't like activity.  I enjoy going for a long walk.  I enjoy going ice skating.  I like playing outside with my dog.  I don't mind moving around, really.  It's just... exercise.  Blah.  I get all hot and sweaty and out of breath.  I feel icky and tired afterwards.  During the exercise, I'm not a happy camper.

However, I have noticed that it makes me a bit more awake by the time I get to work, and I think I might be a little more focused, and I definitely have more energy.  So it's a trade-off.  It's one I'm willing to make, for now.  We'll see if my will power extends beyond the holidays.

What I want

I think I've finally figured out what I want. After 32 years, I think I've got it. It's not the easiest thing to verbalize, because it's more complicated than just, "I want a piece of chocolate cake." But even if I can't entirely explain it, I think I finally know.  

And apparently, I'm not the only one who knows what I mean.

I want someone who feels like this:

And even The Band Perry kind of gets it in the chorus of their song "All Your Life":

Well I don't want the whole world
The sun, the moon, and all their light
I just want to be the only girl
You love all your life

That's what I want. I want someone who will love me for who I really am, not who he wants me to be. I've tried to be everything that someone wants, and being up on a pedestal sucks. It's a long way down, from the ideal to the reality. I'm a real person, and I've got a nice big boatload of flaws.  Please don't expect perfection. It's hard enough for me to handle my own perfectionist qualities. I don't need someone else adding to it.

I want someone who has a life of his own and wants me to be a part of it, but not all of it. I don't want to be someone's 'everything.' I've been that, and it's too much pressure. I want him to be happy on his own, but I want to be able to make him happier. I want him to be a whole person, not just 'my other half,' and I want him to feel the same towards me. 

So there you go. That's what I want.

Now if I could just find it...

The Saga of My Borked Wrist

It was the morning of October 22.  It was a Sunday, an unassuming kind of day.  I was in sunny Orlando, assisting with a series of Anatomy of the Eyeball workshops for JCAHPO.  I thought it was going to be a good day.

Partway through the morning, my left wrist ached a bit.  I rubbed it and thought little of it until I realized that it was my left wrist.  There is generally nothing wrong with my left wrist.  My right wrist randomly hurts because back in 1997, I FOOSHed (Fall On OutStretched Hand) while doing pickups in tap class.  I was in casts/braces/splints for the better part of a year, and it took several years for me to be able to write for more than five minutes or so without pain.

I thought it was odd, but went on with my day, doing the workshops, then going out for drinks with some of the nice people I met at the conference.  The next morning, I slept in, then packed up my bags and headed down to get my car.  My bags were heavy, but I carried them all on my left shoulder, so that my right hand was free to fish out my valet stub and pull the suitcase.  I thought nothing of this.

The following morning, Tuesday, I hurt.  A lot.  My shoulder was in excruciating pain, my wrist felt like someone was scraping a serrated blade along the inside of the skin, and my index finger and thumb felt as if I had slammed them in a car door.  It sucked.  I figured it was because of the heavy bags, so I took some Tylenol, and went on my way.

By Thursday, I wanted to either cry or throw up, the pain was that bad.  So I talked to one of the doctors I work for, and he prescribed a course of steroids.  It helped a bit, but my index finger was still swollen and purple at the end of the six days, so I made an appointment with a hand doctor.  This was just over a week after the first ache.

He poked and prodded and x-rayed.  My wrist wasn't broken, which didn't surprise me because I didn't do anything to it.  He wanted an MRI, to see if there was a ganglion or other soft tissue issues.  He prescribed a wrist brace to use as needed, which I used daily at first, then occasionally once I realized I couldn't do my job with it on. Two weeks, and much pain, later, I got my MRI (last Thursday).

Today, I got the results.  Normal.  REALLY?  On the bright side, no rheumatoid arthritis, no lupus, no tears in tendons or ligaments.  On the not bright side, the pain is still there.  He poked and prodded some more and declared that the pain at the base of my thumb is due to 'severe laxity' in my joints.  He demonstrated on my good hand by moving my carpals around, and bending my finger backwards.  Apparently, normal hands don't bend like mine.  Makes sense, given that I can also mildly dislocate my shoulders on command.

So to treat that part, I've got a new splint, which I should wear all the time for 2-3 weeks, and if that doesn't help, I'll get a cortisone shot, and if that doesn't help, there's a surgical option, but I'd rather not do that if I can avoid it.  Did I mention that I can't take NSAIDs?  Yeah, makes the inflammation (which causes the pain) a little harder to deal with.

And that doesn't explain why my index finger is still all purple and swollen and cold, so next up is a non-invasive vascular assessment, which will require more waiting, and if that doesn't give us any answers, the next step is angiography, which is more invasive than the non-invasive test.

Blargh.

So.  To sum up, I'm in pain, and it sucks.

Stay tuned.

I'm back!

So it's been almost a month since my last blog post... Oops.

I'm going to be lame and blame it on RL getting in the way.  I've had houseguests since October 3 (and still do).  There was Thanksgiving, and a weekend in Florida for work (which was AWESOME), and now I've done something to bugger up my shoulder (and all the way down my arm to my fingertips), so I really haven't been much for using a computer (typing hurts).

I did, however, discover the voice recognition software built into Windows 7, and I've used it to tweet and to write part of my NaNo novel already.

And yes, I'm doing NaNoWriMo.  With a buggered-up arm.  And a house full of people.

Yes.

I am crazy.

To top it off, I'm going to get back into blogging properly.

And I don't go to the doctor about my arm until tomorrow, so I can't even blame this bad decision on good drugs.  Yeesh.

Expect to see more of me.

I might be an idiot.

Or maybe I'm just sleep-deprived. You see, in the past week, I've been trying to switch over my cable service, so I haven't had Internet access at home. I can't blog from work (not only is personal internet use frowned upon, many sites are blocked). So what did I do? Nada. I didn't blog.

Today, however, I remembered that my phone, being an iPhone with an unlimited data package, could get online. D'oh. Let's blame this little lapse on being really freaking hot in the past few weeks, and being preoccupied with my sister's pregnancy. Which is now done! She has a beautiful baby girl! So I'm busy being an auntie this week ;)

I'll try to have some photos up, and I'll do my best to a) get my cable sorted and b) remember that I can post from my phone!

*twitch* *twitch*

Those of you who know me in real life know that I often joke about having OCD.  At one point, in a previous office, my co-workers labeled me with chart stickers because I organized the sheets of stickers.  Why am I telling you this?

Because it's an issue.

I find that it doesn't take much disorder for me to become, well, agitated.  I can usually talk myself down, or distract myself, but the point is, I need structure.  It's funny, because you'd think that a writer or other sort of creative person would not want structure or limits or boundaries, but I can't work without them.  I need a deadline (and preferably a close one) to get things done.  That's part of why I work so well with NaNoWriMo.  There are definite goals and deadlines, so I get my wordcount and get the story done.

When I'm crafting, I often gravitate towards knitting, crochet, cross-stitch, and sewing as 'relaxing' crafts - because they have patterns that I have to follow to make things turn out right.  I like scrapbooking and card-making, but I find that I enjoy both of those more when I have a plan, whether it's a challenge template that I've found online, or a design that I come up with before I start working.

Today, I've been dealing with OTHER PEOPLE.  OTHER PEOPLE don't necessarily get it.  They don't always understand that I need to know what's going on.  They don't understand that, when I don't have any idea when a project will end, I get upset.  When this goes on for a month or two, I can't sleep properly.  I start living on caffeine and sugar, which makes me somewhat less than fun to be around.  Overall, it sucks.

So what is the point of this long, rambling post?  If you know someone like me, please, please, please take pity on them.  Give us deadlines.  Give us endpoints.  Give us updates!  Just don't leave us in limbo.  It's bad for everyone involved.