I have a new addiction. I have been frequenting the yarn groups around here and I am going to a weekly meeting, a monthly meeting, and a bi monthly meeting (each a different group) and they have introduced me to my new sickness... spinning yarn.
Last night, I spun the smallest amount of yarn that anyone was ever so proud of.
apparently, i'm a natural. mwahahahah.
until i get my minimalistic new york high rise, stacked with nothing but tofurkey sandwiches, chocolate cake, and one very confused viggo mortenson, space is loved. the new space is awesome. I have a gigantic kitchen (in comparison to the last postage stamp kitchen) and a wonderful amount of space in our new aparment.
I can get out of bed in the morning without walking like i'm on a balancing beam to get around the bed. I can put all my clothes in the closet, hung up. I even have a lingerie dresser that fits inside my closet and a make shift vanity so that I can fight age in style.
yesterday was our two year anniversary and michael paid for me to have manicure, pedicure, and a facial, and he bought me a brand new dress, about 50 bucks worth of bath and body, and then we went out to sushi. rock on.
i am fighting the moving stress, just some stupid stuff like some repairs weren't done here and we are waiting for them to be done, but meanwhile they are ganting for us to be out of the other space so that they can fix it up and re rent it.
The carpet here has not been vacuumed or steamed for that matter, and the previous tenant was a smoker so it smells really musty.
I'm not complaining, just explaining why it might be that i can't fucking move completely in here until they fix our toilet so that it flushes, our bathrooom sink so that it has hot water, and our kitchen sink which currently is known as old faithful.
On the up, I have a huge kitchen, I have three gigantic shelves in it. I have a bunch of wall space to hang art. and pictures will be coming forthwith.
i've got to get a hold of our antiques with a bottle of old english and some scratch and dent stain repair from where adia vomited on my cedar chest. (thanks adia) cat vomit apparently is as strong as acetone.
walk in closet. vanity. big kitchen. ton of space. awesome husband. just want to be done moving so that we can unpack. just want to be done unpacking. really.
ok, enough whinging for now.
laytah.
Oh, and I'm so on for the stitch and bitch tonight. fuck yeah. got a ton of bitching lined right up.
I have really been pensive lately. In a good way. Not a bad way. Just things that have been in deep and murky waters for such a long time are breaking free of the anchors and causing the surface to roll a bit. I've long come to comfortable conclusion that I aqm in fact, mad as a hatter, but I just don't fucking care. My madness has it's place in my life and I am high functioning. I rather prefer this turn of self opinion because instead of worrying so much about whether or not I failed, people are mad at me, I'm not good enough. blah shit blah. I am about to throw it into my art. I have 3 studio classes this fall, and I'm gonna bang the shit outta that muse... sorry muse, brace yourself.
I am moving again, but this time I am happy to move. I am not stressed about moving. I am not 'scared' of moving. Even better, we were moving boxes today and I was actually able to help. I had been at a somewhat low point physically because there are days where I feel like I can barely walk, or I just don't have energy or strength... and I have to call the coordinator for the community garden and relinquish mine because I can not physically maintain a garden. The repetitive motion of using a cultivator, shovel, anything repetitive which engages my neck/shoulder muscles sets me back, and laying down for three days....
anyhow... i was excited because I was able to help today. i felt stronger. my ankle still bothers me from the accident, but at least I can do something, maybe brace it or something.
ok, michael's gotta have my attention this very second, so i gotta go, i'll finish more later.