No Sleep, Like Too Much Vodka, Is NOT A Good Thing
...as you tend to embarrassing public displays of emotion.
But sometimes those things just need to come out, so I can't say it's a bad thing. And of course it makes you feel so much better to get love and support, because then you know you really aren't alone. And so I thank you for the love and support, truly. Though you all can spare me the hugs and we shan't revisit this too much, shall we?
(But lest I be misunderstood in my usual bitchy manner, words will not adequately express my thanks at people popping in to cheer me and show me solidarity yesterday. You all keep me going, enable me to pick myself up and get on with the show. But I'll say it anyway; thank you.)
In addition to you all, I got a message from the Registrar at the music school saying she'd called IFKALP to thank him very much for his offer, but that they were full. And yes, hopefully by now IFKALP has been informed of his mid-day meeting with the principal so he won't even feel slighted. Believe it or not, I feel mildly guilty for all the string-pulling, but a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.
Yesterday after I posted (and despite the 9:30A time stamp it actually took me until about 1PM to get through all that) I went and sat with Poppy for a half hour, just talking, showing him my tat. He hadn't seen it yet. I know he's not *entirely* happy about it, but he did say that he was glad I felt free enough to be me. Yeah, it took me a while, but I can say that I am definitely free to be me, public displays of emotion and all. It's fun being the younger sister. I've no idea why the Professor wants to be older. It's just way too much work. (And to explain the "inside" family joke, people, the Professor actually told Bigbear once that she should have been born first. And I always did feel more responsible than my entire family, since they are all quite crazy. YOU camp out on someone's back porch unbeknownst to them, because you've been evicted from your house--using the tall tall grass in the back yard as a bathroom--and then perhaps you'll understand. Which reminds me that I need to get back to the Tales of Living La Vida Low Budget at some point soon,)
Anyway, later on I had some more time to think and I decided that as funny as it would be for me to be bodyguarded by OtherHalf and The Bull (who truly personifies "gentle giant") I think that what I really want is peace. I am so tired of fighting this war. I think it made 5 years (officially, in Family Court, I mean) this past Memorial Day. Maybe 4. I can't remember. But it's been a stretch of time. Add to that the 5 years prior of uneasy truces, periodic ceasefires and occasional peace. I would be very happy if IFKALP came to the concert, found himself a seat, had people introduce themselves to him and made him feel comfortable. Maybe remark on how much The Sun resembles him. (First one to make him smile gets a prize!) Maybe, just maybe, he would feel that he doesn't have to prove anything. Maybe, like the wild wolf that he is (see sidebar), he'll grab a little warmth by the fire and then leave quietly in the night.
Hey listen, one can dream.
On the way home I was so tired I kept falling into one of those deep train-sleeps. The ones where you list over to the side, but luckily I kept falling on the Sun and not anyone else. We ordered Chinese food and played with The Sun's new cell. I decided the smart thing to do was just go to bed, since I was actually tired enough to do it, so I was asleep by 11:30P.
I got up this morning at 4:30A, though, because I have to finish this flier for PITA, the Diva's man. There's a whole sub-genre of party fliers in NYC. As a designer, they are EVERYTHING your graphic design ethics tell you that you're not supposed to do; way too many "dropshadows", "glows" "strokes" and "flares", 100 different fonts, things crammed in wherever they will fit and either guys in gangsta poses or slutty looking chicks. They are printed on high-gloss card stock and catch a lot of attention. PITA asked me to do one for him and it's taking a little longer than I anticipated because I went to Pratt afterall, AND I'm obsessive. But it's fun, sheer fun to not pay attention to the "Gestalt of Design" (ok, maybe just a little. I did make all the diamonds myself though I did it awhile ago--and I only used one typeface family.). And watching these kids in the prime of their youth, pulling things off because they don't know yet that they can't reminds me of back in the day when I, too was like that....
So here's the current draft. It needs a few more things (like hey! the actual date and address of the party!) and a "b-side", but...
Oh, and my boss went in to Labor Relations yesterday and talked about feeling "marginalized" and "suicidal" and of course LR right away called the BigKahuna. Life could get REAL interesting around here in the next few weeks. But boss was good and almost back to his crazy Alabama humor, so I'm happy he did. He hasn't made me belly laugh in a few weeks. He did yesterday though. He said they sent him down to the shrink, a woman of African descent, who asked him seriously "what race are you?" Now, Boss will freely answer to "cracker", which freakin' makes me laugh, but yesterday he said in his best southern drawl "Weeeell, ah'm from Alabaima, so there's no tellin'".
Made me double over because it brought to mind various un-PC racial remarks that Grandpa used to make about very light-skinded "blacks".
But sometimes those things just need to come out, so I can't say it's a bad thing. And of course it makes you feel so much better to get love and support, because then you know you really aren't alone. And so I thank you for the love and support, truly. Though you all can spare me the hugs and we shan't revisit this too much, shall we?
(But lest I be misunderstood in my usual bitchy manner, words will not adequately express my thanks at people popping in to cheer me and show me solidarity yesterday. You all keep me going, enable me to pick myself up and get on with the show. But I'll say it anyway; thank you.)
In addition to you all, I got a message from the Registrar at the music school saying she'd called IFKALP to thank him very much for his offer, but that they were full. And yes, hopefully by now IFKALP has been informed of his mid-day meeting with the principal so he won't even feel slighted. Believe it or not, I feel mildly guilty for all the string-pulling, but a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.
Yesterday after I posted (and despite the 9:30A time stamp it actually took me until about 1PM to get through all that) I went and sat with Poppy for a half hour, just talking, showing him my tat. He hadn't seen it yet. I know he's not *entirely* happy about it, but he did say that he was glad I felt free enough to be me. Yeah, it took me a while, but I can say that I am definitely free to be me, public displays of emotion and all. It's fun being the younger sister. I've no idea why the Professor wants to be older. It's just way too much work. (And to explain the "inside" family joke, people, the Professor actually told Bigbear once that she should have been born first. And I always did feel more responsible than my entire family, since they are all quite crazy. YOU camp out on someone's back porch unbeknownst to them, because you've been evicted from your house--using the tall tall grass in the back yard as a bathroom--and then perhaps you'll understand. Which reminds me that I need to get back to the Tales of Living La Vida Low Budget at some point soon,)
Anyway, later on I had some more time to think and I decided that as funny as it would be for me to be bodyguarded by OtherHalf and The Bull (who truly personifies "gentle giant") I think that what I really want is peace. I am so tired of fighting this war. I think it made 5 years (officially, in Family Court, I mean) this past Memorial Day. Maybe 4. I can't remember. But it's been a stretch of time. Add to that the 5 years prior of uneasy truces, periodic ceasefires and occasional peace. I would be very happy if IFKALP came to the concert, found himself a seat, had people introduce themselves to him and made him feel comfortable. Maybe remark on how much The Sun resembles him. (First one to make him smile gets a prize!) Maybe, just maybe, he would feel that he doesn't have to prove anything. Maybe, like the wild wolf that he is (see sidebar), he'll grab a little warmth by the fire and then leave quietly in the night.
Hey listen, one can dream.
On the way home I was so tired I kept falling into one of those deep train-sleeps. The ones where you list over to the side, but luckily I kept falling on the Sun and not anyone else. We ordered Chinese food and played with The Sun's new cell. I decided the smart thing to do was just go to bed, since I was actually tired enough to do it, so I was asleep by 11:30P.
I got up this morning at 4:30A, though, because I have to finish this flier for PITA, the Diva's man. There's a whole sub-genre of party fliers in NYC. As a designer, they are EVERYTHING your graphic design ethics tell you that you're not supposed to do; way too many "dropshadows", "glows" "strokes" and "flares", 100 different fonts, things crammed in wherever they will fit and either guys in gangsta poses or slutty looking chicks. They are printed on high-gloss card stock and catch a lot of attention. PITA asked me to do one for him and it's taking a little longer than I anticipated because I went to Pratt afterall, AND I'm obsessive. But it's fun, sheer fun to not pay attention to the "Gestalt of Design" (ok, maybe just a little. I did make all the diamonds myself though I did it awhile ago--and I only used one typeface family.). And watching these kids in the prime of their youth, pulling things off because they don't know yet that they can't reminds me of back in the day when I, too was like that....
So here's the current draft. It needs a few more things (like hey! the actual date and address of the party!) and a "b-side", but...
Oh, and my boss went in to Labor Relations yesterday and talked about feeling "marginalized" and "suicidal" and of course LR right away called the BigKahuna. Life could get REAL interesting around here in the next few weeks. But boss was good and almost back to his crazy Alabama humor, so I'm happy he did. He hasn't made me belly laugh in a few weeks. He did yesterday though. He said they sent him down to the shrink, a woman of African descent, who asked him seriously "what race are you?" Now, Boss will freely answer to "cracker", which freakin' makes me laugh, but yesterday he said in his best southern drawl "Weeeell, ah'm from Alabaima, so there's no tellin'".Made me double over because it brought to mind various un-PC racial remarks that Grandpa used to make about very light-skinded "blacks".
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