Can’t find the beat
Tuesday, December 06, 2005
Suddenly I’m really busy. At least it feels like a sudden turn of events, but it could be that I’ve just been in denial. I’m way behind on a couple of projects and guilt doesn’t cover anything.
It makes me want to be extra nice and do more things for free, which would mean more work and eventually my slow and painful death.
One thing that makes me happy is my Iconbuffet.com free deliveries I got from Kelly at Marmalade.ca - so I�m returning the favor to anyone who wants their free icons (sign up with iconbuffet!). I’ve got four sets and will be happy to share!
Also, am waiting for a perfume I ordered while I was visiting A, and it should be arriving soonishly. Yum @ russian leather!
And Buffy has been sent from Amazon.co.uk - so all in all there are many things to be happy about (including a new fondness of my hair). And still I’m a bit “blah” about things.
How sucky!
Some good luck in the bad luck and a dash of good karma all around.
Saturday, December 03, 2005
I heart Amazon.co.uk - oh yes I do. I ordered the complete collection of Buffy the Vampire Slayer the day it was released (thanks to mum who sent me money for my birthday), and we’ve been watching episode by episode ever since it arrived in the mail. That is, until yesterday when I was about to change dvd from disc #3 to disc #4 of season 5. It wasn’t in the placeholder.
My heart sank. Thinking that paying for shipping back to Amazon, even though they refund it later (if they deem that the fault is on their behalf) would mean a butt load of waiting and dishing out money we don’t really have for something we might or might not get a refund for. I was actually thinking that I would have to end up buying all of season 5, just to replace the missing #4 disc.
I went through the process for returning items just as a formality, cause I wasn’t expecting to go through with the refund with all that shipping and whatnot, but they were absolute sweethearts and they’re sending me a new complete set, but because shipping would be horribly expensive they told me to keep the old item, and if I feel so inclined I can donate the incomplete set to charity.
So yeah, we’re donating it. When the new set arrives (and after I check that all discs are in place, heh) we’ll be giving the other away. We’re still thinking of where to donate to, but we’re definitely going with something locally.
In the meanwhile, I’ll have a lot more free time on my hands.
Razor Burns
Friday, December 02, 2005
This was going to happen sooner or later, even though maybe I was hoping that it wouldn’t happen at all - and I’m glad I was wrong. They say a woman’s hair is her crown. In that case, I’m wearing a tiara.
Ever since I was a kid, 10 or 11 years old, I’ve had this disorder - trichotillomania. For about 14 years I’ve been a trichster, a hair puller. I guess you don’t need a razor to hurt yourself. In fact 2 percent of people have this disorder, so even when I thought I was alone (and a freak) I really wasn’t (except, maybe just a little, heh).
Because of email conversations with another trichster (she knows who she is), I built up the “courage” to shave my head. I know, not everyone would call that courage exactly (most people’s hair grow out evenly again you know), but for me, the past 14 years have been about hiding the fact that I would pull and pull and pull until there were bald spots on my head, until finally I had one big bald patch which I could only hide by keeping my hair up 24/7.
And hide it I did. Some people know/knew, others don’t and even if they did, no one knows the reason to my baldness. Until now.
A few days ago I took a scissor to my head, and then a razor. I’m amazed at how little I felt as I lost my long hair. How little it hurt inside. How an exposed scalp feels liberating in comparison to scuttling to the ladies room whenever we are out to eat, just to make sure my bald spot isn’t showing. How I still feel feminine (as feminine as I am capable of anyway).
It doesn’t even look half bad. And when J told me not to worry - that I “have a pretty skull”, it felt like I had just done one of the most important things I’ll ever do for myself.
Incoherent, pre-flight, jitters babble’
Thursday, November 17, 2005
Panic! I don�t know what shoes to wear. Pretty or comfy? Cool or comfy? Pretty or cool?
Or comfy?
Urgh! My plane leaves at 6.40A-fucking-M. This always happens to me. Luckily, the airport I’m going to is like, the SMALLEST airport ever and there isn’t much people there to cramp your style - but then again, who would fucking bother at 6.40am? Hm?
We have a 1 hours drive to the airport, and if I have to check in an hour before take-off, well, you do the math. We’re going to have to get up pre-early.
So, back to the shoes.. Comfy? Pretty? Cool?
