ABC (and F) Club Tonight was a bit of a wash. Either the group doesn't the book and doesn't talk about it, or--as was the case tonight--they do read the book and they still don't talk about it. Is there some immutable law of nature that dictates that when three or more strong-willed lesbian and/or bisexual women get together, they must all talk over each other, as loudly as possible?

I love my ladies, but goddamn.

On the bright side, I think I may have made a new friend tonight--a friend of the Geek Persuasion. My ears perked up right away when she mentioned going to Ren Faires. And then...she mentioned LARPing. For reals. I said, "Excellent! An honest-to-god geek!"

She simply smiled and showed me this:

I squealed. And thus, a new friend was (potentially) made.

The Week Ahead...

I could say much about the goals, but I will let the picture do the talking.

(Also, they say that a picture is worth a thousand words...but what if the picture potentially CONTAINS a thousand words?)

The Week in Review

What I Read: What We Talk About When We Talk About Anne Frank (short stories, of which I am not overly fond, but who can resist a title like that?), In the Company of the Courtesan, Because It Feels Good, and The Life of Pi.

What I Watched: Supernatural, The X-Files, Sleepy Hollow (oh, Ichabod! You can bear witness to me any time!)

What I Plotted: My upcoming Midwestern Adventure of 2014. (Woooo! 2 weeks in the Midwest in March! Party time!)

How I Felt: Lethargic. Sinusy. There's some nasty shit going on up there, let me tell ya.

The Good: I was on the wagon the entire week! And don't even have a tshirt to show for it. I managed to clean my desk at work, and plow through almost all of the work goals. And I blogged.

The Bad: I had one of my three allotted monthly days at work in which I felt very negative about things.

The Ugly: No exercise. None. I was a total blob.

The Pretty: On our travels through the tourist-glutted streets of downtown Palm Springs during Village Fest, Angie and I found a rather enticing little shop, Desert Artists and Imported Teas. It's a rather compelling combination of teas and tea accessories, frilly accessories, antiques, and some handcrafted items. Some items are of the Dolores Umbridge ilk, other items were downright lovely in their vintage dignity, but all of the items were total fripperies. My kind of place:

And while I won't be able to make discoveries like that every week, I purchased enough tea to tide me over for a while!

In Which I Contemplate "Poverty"

This was my Saturday to work. I usually regard these Saturdays as a mixed blessing--yes, it's never fun having to work on a weekend, but at the same time...skeleton crew! No distractions! Time to get work done, and desk cleaned, without any interference. And lo and behold, I actually got my desk clean. AND read some book reviews. How 'bout them apples? I got to be a librarian again.

After work, I hauled my ass down to La Quinta to attend a "house party" that a friend was throwing. I don't know what I was expecting...well, scratch that, I was expecting "someone's shitty garage band", but I was in for a surprise. The music was definitely like something I would hear on Echoes, mainly electronica, with maybe a little Ravi Shankar influencing it. So I laid back on the outdoor sofa and looked up at the inky black sky and listened to the crickets chirp and felt the chilly evening breeze begin to pick up and stir the palm trees, and I tried not to worry.

Himself is leaving his job at the end of the month, and will be trying to start his hiking business. At the same time, one of  our housemates is moving out. I think we already have roommates lined up to take his place, but if that falls through--we will be hurting, really quickly. It's a sobering reminder of how precarious the financial situation is.

Even if we do keep ourselves afloat with roommates, though, things will, by necessity, have to get a bit tight. I know this is a major First World Problem--oh no! You mean I actually have to stick to my budget!--but it's been a few years since I've had to worry and wonder and make conscious choices.

Character building experience, right?

I suppose the first plan of attack is to stop shopping. My home is filled with makeup that does not adorn my face, books going unread, incense and candles unburned, food gone rotten and thrown out. So how about I start by "going shopping in my closet." And embracing the phrase "Use it up, wear it out, make it do, or do without."

I can switch to cheaper wines...$3 or $4 wines as opposed to $ 8 and $10 wines.

I should withdraw cash for the week's groceries and discretionary spending. Once it's gone, time to retreat to the ramen.

I should check my bills at restaurants--usually I don't. No, wait--I simply shouldn't go to restaurants.

I should submit reimbursement requests for ALL out-of-pocket medical expenses.

I should lose weight. Seriously--if I were to do that, my wardrobe selection would triple!

It'll be okay, one way or the other. But I cannot help but to worry in the meantime...

Also, I had a dream last night in which I was having an affair with Arnold Schwarzenegger. And I had to call it off when he gave my ass a judgey, meaningful look and said, "Drop and give me one hundred and fifty-one situps."

I try not to use this phrase a lot, but here, I think it applies:

"What the hell, self?"

Enough is enough until it's never enough

In the fall of 1999, when I was just a stupid kid with all of the wisdom that comes with being 19, I slammed the car door on my thumb.

The pain was as terrible as you might imagine. I spent the night at my sister's house--please note that I didn't say slept. For me, there was no sleep that night--nor for our friend Shawn, who (probably at the behest of my sister, who didn't want to deal with an overwrought female alternately crying in pain and cursing her own clumsiness) slept on the floor of her bedroom and was continually waking up to a pair of feet coming straight at him as I restlessly paced the room. (Why, oh why, didn't anyone think to just get my liquored up? It wouldn't have lessened the pain, but at least I would have passed out eventually.)

My sister and friend gave me all of the sympathy they could muster, and that I could deserve, but in  my memory, that wasn't much. Whether or not Shawn said it, or I simply thought it myself, I slammed my thumb in the car door because I was in a rush.

I'm like that, to this very day. I tromp purposely around work, I quickly swipe my card at the ATM machine in lines at the store, I have no patience for people who linger when the light turns green (although, in my defense, I obey the speed limit), I talk fast, I get annoyed when people amble along in crowds.

And as I do in my daily tasks, so I do in my overall life. I'm rushing through life, not pausing as I dart from task to the next. It's all about plowing through the to-do list, tackling the various tasks and responsibilities, fulfilling my obligations, running the errands. Bubble baths were a nightmare for me until I realized I could even multitask in the tub, listening to Welcome to Night Vale podcasts. Even reading is something I attack as though it's something to be checked off the list--because, actually, it is. I'm supposed to read 12 books this month. Right now I just finished Book 8.

Of course I'm not getting it all done. But I can't deny, my lists have certainly kept me more disciplined and focused than I ever was without them. I usually even enjoy doing most of it, to a greater or lesser extent. But how much am I savoring? How much am I truly observing and taking in? How much am I living?

Or am I just second-guessing myself--undermining my productivity by pointing out the neuroses from which it stems, the underlying conviction that no matter what I do, it simply will never be enough? 

What I Meant Was...

Patron to SuperMom Librarian: "I'm looking for a book by Gail Tsukiyama. It's called A Hundred Flowers."

SuperMom Librarian, after a moment: "I'm having a hard time finding A Hundred Flowers...Are you sure that that's the title?"

Patron: "Yes!"

Me, unable to stop myself from jumping in: "I think you're looking for Street of a Thousand Blossoms."