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We are officially in the new place and, as of last night, I have uncovered the stove and found our plates, glasses, and silverware.

I do not have internet access at home (thanks, Comcast, you jerks). I also seem to be not sleeping nearly enough. I think I'm waking up when J leaves, then dozing lightly for a few more hours and just falling into deep sleep when my alarm goes off. I feel like I've been wrapped in damp cotton. I keep missing the turn to our new house. On the way home the other day I missed two separate turns.

Just realized the Solstice Parade is next weekend, which means dress rehearsal is next Thursday, which means I had better set up my sewing table tonight and get my goddamn act together.

I managed to lock myself and the dog out of the house yesterday morning. In the rain. In my pajamas. Luckily I had the forethought to put on slippers (suede), but I still had my mouthguard in and my hair out to here as I wandered around the neighborhood looking for a neighbor who would let me use their phone.

However, said dog seems to have adjusted well to her new house, even if she doesn't have an Emo Room to herself yet.

Gas heat is the effing bomb.

Our new backyard is about five of our old backyards, plus trees. This is simultaneously awesome and really intimidating.

I had to cancel dance class on Monday, as I was cleaning the old place all day and was done four hours after I needed to leave to catch the ferry. Then I found out the landlord won't be back in her house for another two weeks. But hell, the place sure is clean.

Fuck, I'm tired.
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Did my first real post-surgery gig last night. I danced a couple of weeks ago in a hafla but that was to recorded music; dancing to a band is a whole 'nother thing and takes a lot more stamina since you never really know what's going to happen. I tend to go full out more quickly and then regret it because then the band turns it up.

Result: I sweated off all of my foundation (though my eyeshadow and lips, both MAC, were flawless -- guess I need to invest in some real foundation, too) AND one band of eyelashes. I had requested "Ana fi Intizarek" since the vocalist sounds super sweet singing it, and we agreed that we'd open with something peppy, then Intizarek, then a nice taqsim, drum solo and tip round/outro. I figured I could do a bunch of timewasting/finger cymbals/how-do-ya-do audience-greeting stuff for the first song to reserve energy, maybe fill with some veil and then launch into the meat of things once I warmed up a little.

That, of course, is not what happened. They started with Intizarek and I had to quickly ditch my cymbals and reconsider the rest of my life and then of course I emoted my guts out (because, hello, Um Kulthoum, you can't just half-ass it) with another ten or fifteen minutes of set remaining. Intizarek led into a long violin taxim (I think, everything is a little foggy) and then a long synth oud taxim (shimmies!) and then a mid-tempo, which I used to take my exhausted sweating self out for a tip round, and then I came back to a drum solo, holy shit. I sat my ass down on the edge of the stage to catch my breath, which was a crowd-pleaser, thank goodness, and George (bless his heart) came and sat next to me and kept drumming. I talked to the band later to thank them and they all said they loved that part.

Also got one of the best compliments I've ever had; someone in the audience said I reminded them of Fifi. (!)

But yes, more conditioning is definitely in order. Once we find a new place and get moved I am going to sign up for aquarobics, I think, or at least find someplace when I can use a treadmill for cheap. I'm thinking the classes would make me go work out weekly.

It was a really nice night, save for the freak sitting next to us. He came in after my set, I think, and I don't know if he had mental problems, or was on some illicit substance, or was just a jerk, but he was very loud in appraising the dancers in a disgusting sexual way while they were working. Luckily he was far enough back in the room that you couldn't hear him from the stage, but we was getting increasingly creepy with one of the dancers who had sat at a table behind us and I was getting ready to turn around and burn him to the fucking ground. I just didn't get an opening to do it; I didn't want to disrupt the performances that were going on. I felt bad not jumping on him, though, or asking the venue to get him the hell out of there. Lesson learned for next time.

Ew.

Apr. 21st, 2011 05:12 pm
superdaintykate: (Default)
Watched The Passion of the Christ last night. Good lord. When someone called it a two-hour-and-six-minute snuff film, they sure weren't kidding.

I wonder if I had seen it when I was still involved in the church, if I would have found it quite as over the top as I did last night. You grow up Catholic, you get used to seeing a torture device in every room of the house (at least in every bedroom) every day, and a whole buncha gore on Sundays, rolling eyes and gaping mouths and every rivulet of blood lovingly rendered, unless you went to a new-school church that liked to "emphasize the Risen Christ" (I had two of those and one old-school [which had a full-scale full-color replica of the Pieta` in the vestibule], plus the parish that my great-grandparents built in Buffalo). But honestly, Mel, did we need the squirty Foley during the crucifixion?

That said, what a freaking awful film. Every time I caught myself thinking "well, that was nice" I kept remembering, hello, source material. The reason that shot was framed so beautifully? Copied from an existing painting or sculpture. AND music lifted from Passion Sources, what the fuck. Plus, more slow-motion than a Pepperidge Farm ad -- I kept expecting Jesus to smell like fresh cinnamon buns. "Slow" =/= "cinematic" or "important", particularly when it's bracketed with thirty minutes of MORE SLOW FOOTAGE on either side. Same goes for "hysterical gibbering". PLUS slightly creepy but largely pointless cameos from Satan hisself. AND all the other stuff that everyone was up in arms about (hello, Jews, I recognize you from all the propaganda I've seen). And the thirty seconds of Resurrection (did we just get a shot of the Savior's bare ass through the hole in his hand?) made me roll my eyes so hard I looked like Saint Lucy for a minute. (Eyes on a plate, look it up, I'll wait.)

Some nice acting, I will say that, both Caviezel and Shopov (who played Pilate), insane makeup and film decisions aside; and the linguist geek in me liked the Aramaic though some of the Latin was really out of place (I guess they didn't use the Greek that would have been spoken then because they thought the audience wouldn't be able to differentiate between it and Aramaic?). Nice music, though it was pretty obviously "inspired by" someone else's.

But still, ack.
superdaintykate: (Default)
First two minutes: choreographed, except for transitions.

Considering improv'ing the other two minutes but would like some killer anchors to work from and I'm not completely happy with what I have.

Also: costume fitting sucks.
superdaintykate: (Default)
Just popping in to repost this, because. Well, just because.

http://community.livejournal.com/ontd_political/7993066.html
superdaintykate: (Default)
La Llo with her brothers, Aaron and Isaac.


superdaintykate: (Default)
Oh, man, a weekend.

Read more... )
superdaintykate: (Default)
I have insomnia, but I also had an amazing dinner last night, so you get a recipe. It's this: http://simplyrecipes.com/recipes/carbonnade_beef_and_beer_stew/
but I made it in the crockpot and OH MY GOD, you guys.

I'm going to go ahead and type this out so I have it archived.
Read more... )
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AND the credit unions are making me dance to get a copy of the returned item, because I do shared branching. I feel like I should let it drop that, if I did this business through Bank of America, I would have had my check image online. Instantly. Last night. Or earlier, since they remember to send me FUCKING STATEMENTS.

The benefits of working with the Evil Empire. "Yeah, but the trains run on time." You know the drill.

Edited to add: it figures. I went to the branch directly after work, and they said "no problem" and pulled an image of the item for me toot sweet. I need to call their main office and let them know they were wrongity wrong wrong.

well, fuck.

Mar. 2nd, 2011 09:57 pm
superdaintykate: (Default)
It seems a student has bounced a check to me. And because, even though I have asked them not to, my CU was "filing" my statements on this account rather than sending them to me, I only found out about it now, a month after the fact. Luckily, I haven't cashed this session's checks yet, so I can figure out who the guilty party is first and then tell them they need to pay cash henceforth. And the $20 overdraft fee.

Nice.
superdaintykate: (Default)
Got my hair cut. I feel absurd thinking it is "short" -- the front is bust-length and the back is at my waist. But since I had scraggly ends down at my butt it feels like a lot is missing when I wrap it into a bun. This is the cognitive dissonance you experience when you only cut your hair every, um, eighteen months or so.
superdaintykate: (Default)
Anesthesiologist bill: paid, and a little over half of my surgeon's bill is now paid, too.

Next month I finish paying my surgeon and start taking bites out of the hospital stay.

Chugga chugga chugga.
superdaintykate: (Default)
Things that irritated me lately:

1. Attention, drivers of the PNW. If you drive a grey, black, or other asphalt-colored vehicle, TURN YOUR GODDAMN LIGHTS ON. FFS. Especially when you (and I) are driving near the lake and it's misting and visibility is effectively zero and oh, you want to merge, how quaint.

2. Dear Mister Classic Rock DJ: I have several problems with you calling Donvan "the English Bob Dylan", not the least of which being he's from fucking Glasgow.

3. Did you know you can have a hysterectomy and still get periods? Guess how I learned this! It's like the best of both worlds!

Now, honestly, this is just spotting and I will deal better (if it continues) once I can use "internal protection" (hello, situational anxiety! I see blood, I turn into a junior high girl again!), but I am also experiencing some abdominal pain (not sharp, more of a constant pressure-type pain that just hangs around and sets my teeth on edge, like a toothache or one of those nagging one-eye headaches) that, up until now, I described as "cramps", because that's what I thought they were. BUT I GUESS THEY WEREN'T, WERE THEY? I suppose it could be...fuck, I am not even going to guess. I have my last followup appt. next week so there will be discussion.

I know this is worlds better than having to be x minutes from a bathroom at all times, but there's a more-than-small part of me saying "aw, poop."

On the other hand, the sky is an incredible electric-violet color right now. So that's nice.

Jeremy

Jan. 10th, 2011 11:23 pm
superdaintykate: (Default)
A few years ago, Jon asked me if I could make a Jeremy doll. Like an idiot, I said yes, and then promptly failed to figure out how I could pull it off. The neck was the problem, of course.

Well, this year, I decided to give it another go.




Read more... )
superdaintykate: (Default)
I am considering saving up and ordering a custom from Bella.

(Aside to the non-dancers: this is a crapshoot. Bella is a designer based in Turkey/Belgium, and the "design" process can be a shot in the dark. You can send her pics and sketches and a budget, but you don't get anything back to approve before she makes the costume. Sometimes you don't even know if she's accepted the commission until you get an email asking for payment, that can come weeks or months after the order. But the costumes are FANTASTIC.)

I have a dream costume that I've been mulling over for years, based on a bracelet I bought back in I-don't-know-when. Since her aesthetic has changed somewhat (still using the AB stones, but there seems to be less lush, dimensional beading and sparser fringe) since I first started fantasizing about this costume, and part of me is afraid what I would get back from her would be nothing like what I wanted (sacrilege!), some sick, demented part of my brain is actually considering dooming me to lost eyesight and arthritis and making the thing myself.

It's important to note that I bought fringe, ostensibly to use on this theoretical costume, back in, um...oh lord, when did Kathryn sponsor the workshop with Morocco? I think it might have been 1997 or so. Back then. And the fringe has been lying in a drawer all this time.

I think maybe I'll try making a belt for the green cobra costume, see how that goes.
superdaintykate: (Default)
I think the only thing that irks me more than people abandoning LJ is the people who do it while saying "nobody POSTS anymore."

User-generated content, folks. Step up.
superdaintykate: (Default)
Had a wonderful, relaxed Christmas with Jon. Were were both so focused on the surgery (and he was running his ass off) that we let the present thing go by the wayside a bit, so we're going to do gifts on Epiphany. Hopefully I will have his finished by then.

I went to a carol service at the local Catholic church Xmas eve -- those years of vocal music die hard, and I just can't let Xmas go by without singing. I felt bad for the choir because they really were quite good but people filtered in all through the carols, with the following mass as the goal. I felt affronted by the guy sitting next to me, who was at least in his mid-twenties but was texting on his smartphone through the readings. Dude, as an athiest, I'm thinking you might need to rethink your relationship with your Lord and what is appropriate in His presence, but that's just me.

Had a completely unforseen breakdown in the church foyer -- the parish had dozens of nativity scenes set up, all different materials and designs, and I was wondering around looking at them after I ducked out as Mass started (hey, I'm just here for the music, guys, don't mind me). Suddenly, all these images of father-mother-child and songs about wombs kind of hit me upside and there I was, crying my freaking eyes out. Not regret, not by any means, but probably exhaustion and recognition of the enormity of what I'd gone through. It sure snuck up on me, though, and I had to sit in my car for a while to compose myself before I drove home.

However, we cobbled together a glorious Xmas dinner of Ina Garten's stuffing (the recipe from the turkey roulade, with cranberries and figs and brandy), sauteed brussels sprouts, and pork loin chops that Jon marinated in apple cider and spices and some vinegar and oh lord it was good. That plus the morning's breakfast of fresh keilbasa and rye bread meant my stomach was down for the count by bedtime (I'm sure the various Xmas treats didn't help) but it sure was delicious.

We got a lot of sleep in our big new comfy bed, and drove around and looked at Xmas lights, and just enjoyed being together (and my being, you know, fairly participatory instead of locked up in the attic like a mad wife). Frankly, it was just about perfect.
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Had my 2-week post-op checkup today (at dark in the morning, ugh) and my doc actually seemed astonished at how quickly and well I am healing up. She was surprised that I am off the narcotics, and I am too, frankly, but I don't like being on them for any length of time; I enjoy them/depend on them too much and they were starting to seem to lose their effect. So I pared down to morning and evening doses last week, then Monday (I think) I just did an evening dose and now I'm just on ibuprofen when I remember to take them. Even that seems a little superfluous, we shall see. Incisions are healed and scabbed over, no bruising at all anymore -- and I have no idea how THAT came about, since I bruise when you look at me wrong -- and very little discomfort. Right now the worst of it is a tugging feeling at the incision sites, especially when I try to sleep on my side -- bad, because, well, I sleep on my side and can't -- and an occasional "burned" sensation, like a sunburn, between two of the incisions (which is apparently nerves regenerating). Here's hoping they connect up properly and this wears off, because it is a bit of a bummer, but it's just annoying, really.

The right side hurt worst because that side had the bugger fibroid that was actually in ligament tissue that they had to dig out. My doc told me the total weight of the material removed was 130 g -- much less than I expected, but she thinks maybe the size of a grapefruit? Just google-converted it and that's a little over a quarter-pound of stuff. Ew.

Today I went with mi adopted familia to Pike Place and actually walked and shopped and carried a bag that most likely was edging a little too close to 10 lbs for comfort (including 2-plus pounds of brussels sprouts, 2 pounds of kielbasa, and a little over a pound of pears): I thought about doing a little xmas shopping while I was there but figured I couldn't carry anything more. I think since my holiday was mostly wiped out I may shop over the year -- so if any of you get a gift in, say, August, don't be surprised.

Anyway, came home and ate a truckload of tamales and feel fine, surgery-wise. My stomach wants to kill me (boo on you, Breakfast Jack!) but no surgery-related pain.

I am pretty astounded. We shall see what tomorrow brings.

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