Friday, October 23, 2009

Just because I'm hooked on living
Doesn't mean I'm hooked on you

woke early from coughing. Am ready to go a full 37 minutes earlier than usual.

Was also up late working on, guess, the costume. Mom gave me some more ideas (which of course I will enumerate in a costume update).

I have a massive credit card bill this month. Oops. It was mostly the costume, the ticket home for Thanksgiving, and spa week that did me in. Spa week and the costume are pure luxury, so I feel a little sheepish and worried about dipping into savings for this. But you do what you have to. I want to have savings so I don't have to jump at the first crappy job that gets offered me. I need to have a job I love. That's why I went to grad school. To love what I do. As I do now (but it won't last).

Everything is beautiful. Everything is alive. Everything is a mess (in my apartment anyway). I forgot to take a picture before I cleaned up a lot of scraps and thread and fabric that was draped over every surface of the apartment, but believe me, it was breathtaking.

Am listening to my friend's mix for me from a few years back. Yearning, acceptance, and defeat color the songs. And beauty.

I don't fancy driving right at 8:30, so I might drop off the unitard to get the zipper fixed. Which is broke with my MASSIVE BODY. But no, really, I lost another 5 pounds in the last few weeks, according to the doctor, whom I visited yesterday to ensure I didn't have the flu. They couldn't confirm either way, but I had to wear a mask because I was coughing so much. Kind of embarrassing, I guess, but waiting room time was minimized at least. I smiled at the woman who took me back, and then explained "I'm smiling at you." She said she knew because I smiled with my eyes, too. I said I was surprised because my friend (the same one who made the mix for me) said my eyes were cold and unexpressive. The woman told me about 5 times that I had very warm eyes, and that my friend was crazy. She was very nice.

  • "You Ain't Got a Hold On Me" AC/DC (and Mark Kozelek, of which this is a cover. A cover of a cover.)

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