happy birthday to me
I know it’s a stupid piece of metal holding other stupid pieces of metal (and one piece of wood), but I am sooooooo pleased with this.
We won’t talk about all the other medals I need to complete.
Seriously. We’re not going to.
Things are settling down.
I’m starting to find a rhythm. A method to the madness.
A way to tolerate a BLT sandwich that isn’t particularly fond of lettuce.
Yeah. You probably don’t want to know.
I just put our schedule up on the whiteboard.
Holy shit, we’re going to be busy this summer.
Had the best birthday ever - TWO trips to Universal.
One with my little brother from another mother and his family. So nice to spend time with him.
One by myself. Which was even better. I fucking love going to Universal by myself.
The best part of going to Universal (besides spending all day in Diagon Alley and HOT butterbeer (HOT!!!!!!!!!!!!)) was when I bought ice cream for that mom and her daughter at Florean Fortescue’s Ice-Cream Parlour. There was something about the two of them that made me wish it wasn’t the 26th anniversary of my mother’s death on the 18th or the fact that my father died when I was 26.
Yeah. For not liking numbers, there’s a certain symmetry that’s always bothersome when the numbers line up like that.
Anyhoo… they were behind me in line and there was something about them. (Yes, I know I already said that.) When I offered to pay for their ice cream, the mother hugged the shit out of me. The cashier wouldn’t stop telling me how amazing I was for doing that.
But, in truth, I did it because I was jealous of their relationship.
Because that’s the best fucking reason to do something nice for someone, right?
I never said my actions make sense.
In other news, no more Sims. That’s a pretty good thing.
Working on my Drarry fanfic again after putting it into time out. (Why did I have to fuck up a perfectly good Drarry fic with soulmates and Weasley twins? Soulmates, pffffffft.)
Continuing work on my Yuri!!! on Ice fan fic, too. I think I’ve mentioned what a little shit Yurio is, so he’s been a lot of fun to write.
Reread my 2017 NaNoWriMo Teen Wolf (trainwreck of a) fic. I think there’s a lot of potential there, but I’m knee deep in two other fandoms. I’m good at multi-taking, but that’s way too many voices in my head clamouring for attention.
Oh. Wait. I can’t talk about the voices in my head. That’s bad.
Can I talk about hearing the fucking Hamilton soundtrack on a never ending loop in my head? It’s the earworm that refuses to go away. For weeks now, I can’t replace it with ANYTHING else. And, so help me Dog, have I tried…
Hallucination or earworm?
You decide. I’m going to bed.
matt nathanson :: the beacham, orlando :: 09.02.2019
Since moving to Florida, I’ve been missing out on one of my favourite things - music therapy.
It was so much easier to get in the car and drive the four hours to Albany every couple of weeks when I needed my fix. I definitely don’t have that here… not even working at the arena could cure my need for live music. Mostly, because I couldn’t connect to the music. I saw three concerts the entire time I worked at the arena… and bands that can fill an arena generally aren’t my thing any more.
Give me the bands no one’s ever heard of. Give me the bands that aren’t on the radio twenty-four-seven-three-sixty-five.
Enter Matt. We’ve seen him twice in the past year, once in Pompano and yesterday in Orlando. He’s definitely a one-hit wonder, but his live shows are something else. When he’s allowed to truly be himself on stage, it’s amazing. Last night was definitely no exception.
We paid for the meet and greet, which is something I normally don’t do, but it was worth it for the three extra songs we got from the soundcheck.
He also brought his song wheel. Motherfucker, did that make the night even better. Spinning and hoping that it landed on something he actually wanted to play - it was the best mix of drama and comedy. (“The wheel is like democracy - you get what you don’t want”). The wheel fucked him so bad at one point, that he moved the wheel to the song he actually wanted to play. (“You drink the beer, the beer doesn’t drink you.”
Other bits that I made note of:
Nobody can fuck up a song like Matt Nathanson.
We’re hear to see Mike Nickerson.
No one wants to hear an angry folk guy do metal.
And I can’t forget his story about the hippie chick that LICKED HIS ELBOW. (I suppose, in her defence, she DID ask him to bed, and she DID ask him if he wanted to try something…) The best part of that entire story was when he looked at the fourteen year old girl standing at the barrier and told her to close her fucking ears. He loves making a big deal out of kids in the audience, and then he forgets they’re there and it can get pretty raunchy.
He also told the story about how his daughter has an entire pintrest board dedicated to him, and also how she busts out bits from “Run”. I cannot imagine hearing an eight year old sing “I wanna watch you undress”...
I’m still kind of reeling from the events of late November / December / early January and waiting for the other shoe to drop and last night was EXACTLY what I needed. Plus, we squeezed in a couple of hours at Universal, and we all know how much I love hanging out in Diagon Alley.
Gavin DeGraw is at Universal next weekend as part of Mardi Gras and I am so very very tempted to go back for for the day. Even though I’m not a huge fan, I like him enough to attend a free concert. I can’t afford another overnight, but the concerts get out early enough that the drive home shouldn’t kill me.
I mean, it is only a three hour drive…
Knowing we were going to close on the 30th of November, led me to believe I would need to be distracted by NaNoWriMo. It was a decent thought - I attempt NaNo every year with varied results. This year I lost (27K out of 50K) because I dug into pintrest looking for ideas for the house. Different distraction. Not sure it was a better distraction because I became kind of obsessed with paint colours and board and batten trim.
Our last house was OURS. Designed by us. Built by us (or the crappy guy we hired, same thing). This house is THEIRS. From the terrible paint colours to the mirrors everywhere you fucking turn. (Like seriously. Did they work for the circus? It’s like a fucking fun house in there.) Our house was mostly builder white for 12 years and I liked it like that. Bringing colours in via couches and pillows and accessories is much better than painting loud colours on the wall. Been there. Done that. I prefer quieter colours now. This house is BOLD. Even when it’s meant to be neutral, it’s NEUTRAL.
So. Anywho. We closed. We went to Universal. I had a nice three days away from my life. Time to decompress from the stress of buying a house. (Because seriously?! I didn’t SIGN OFF on an email the bank told me to write and send? WHO SIGNS AN EMAIL? WITH INK? WTF?) And now it’s time to deal with the stress of moving.
Yeah. We were going to give them two months notice. Then that became a month and a half. Then that became December 31st. Then that became ‘before Christmas’. Then that became ‘before hubby goes to Ohio’, which then became the 16th, which then became “FUCK IT! LET’S MOVE NEXT WEEKEND!” because my mentally ill self is SO FUCKING HEALTHY RIGHT NOW that I can do this. (Not even close. Not. Even. Fucking. Close.)
I need a nap, a cookie, and a hug.
I digress… for NaNo, I decided to write Teen Wolf fan fic. Not a universe I’m well versed in, but what the fuck? Why not? Those 27K words were painful (OOH! CRAFTSMAN WINDOW TRIM) and not just because (GREY KITCHENS) I kept getting distracted by (THEY HAVE DYLAN O’ BRIEN GIFS!), fucking pintrest. They were just hard to get out. If I hadn’t needed the word count, I would have deleted half of it twice and started over.
As it was, I forgot my sleeping pills when we went to Universal. This is always a bad idea. In two nights, I got maybe six hours sleep. TOTAL. Which, of course, really helped with the bipolar thing. Also not helping the bipolar thing was the Christmas celebration at Universal. I’m a New England girl. I love me some winter. I’m happiest when I can watch the snow fall. So trying to wrap my brain around the fact that I’m in shorts and a t-shirt, watching a live action version of “How the Grinch Stole Christmas” and then viewing a Christmas parade, in Florida, in December, and realising that I’m not going to see a snowflake this year… Yeah. Totally not helping with the bipolar thing.
Which is why I spent most of last night writing and re-writing and re-writing all 27K words in my head instead of sleeping.
I’m really hoping I get to sleep tonight because there’s no way I’m going to be able to adult at work tomorrow if I don’t…
i can’t find the street :: look for the one that looks like a penis
So. We have done the impossible.
We have found a fucking house!
Praise the Lord and send ten dollars as my father used to say.
We had such lofty ideas when we started this, so many things we didn’t want and didn’t want to budge on… and all of those things went by the wayside.
I present to you The House on Tallywhacker Terrace.
I wish that were the street’s real name, but it’s not. It did however get christened “Penis Street” when I couldn’t find it on Google Maps and the hubby told me to look for the street that looked like a penis. It wasn’t until I got bored at the MINI dealership on Saturday, that we happened upon Tallywhacker Terrace. The perfect combination of real address and the subtle dick joke. (We’re twelve years old, after all.)
It’s in a gated community with an HOA. In a sub-development called Lake Pointe. POINTE. WITH A FUCKING E. Because, I don’t know, we’re all fancy or shit.
But, there is one nice thing about Lake Pointe - the house is on a lake (Surprise!). 80’ of waterfront, motherfuckers! Granted, it’s not my lakeside cabin in the woods of Maine, but it’s waterfront and we don’t have to drag the kayaks all over creation to get onto the water.
We’re going to close on the house by the end of the month and then a few days later, we’re going back to Universal.
I’m going to miss winter, but I think I could get used to this sort of life…
even if it’s weird to be at the beach in November. Wearing a t-shirt and shorts.
with john barrowman :: boston comiccon :: august 2017
Oh, John Barrowman, you are a Queen amongst boys.
The hubby and I went to Boston last weekend to attend ComicCon.
We had purchased the tickets when we were still New Hampshire residents and decided that they shouldn’t go to waste.
It was one of the best weekends I’ve had in a long time—it was awesome to be with my people.
I got to pop my husband’s Rocky Horror cherry, I got to hear Bill West do his Ren and Stimpy voices, drool over Ian Somerhalder, fangirl over Eleven and Amy Pond (Matt Smith and Karen Gillan) and spend not-nearly-enough time with Mr. Barrowman.
The weekend was too short but completely perfect…
...and I was totally excited to go back to work on Monday.
I think I’m winning at this life thing lately.