Lots and lots of stuff is going on right now. First and most important to you is that I will be selling my stuff at Zinefest. You should come along, say hi and buy my zines and sugar scrub. And yes, in case you’re wondering, if I slept with you prior to 2007, you will be in 101 Stories but possibly only a very small part. Heh. I said “small part”.
I am so grown up. I sorted out my magazines yesterday night, along with some other form of grown-up activity. I umm ummm okay, maybe I just shivered under a duvet on the couch. BUt you know, I ate vegetables for dinner, so that’s grown up. I wish I had a camera to post a photo of all my Qs in chronological order, their red spine numbers just above the lilac boxes that they’re in, and then there are my Bitch and Busts in pink boxes, along with the sadly finito Jane, Frankie, and Yen. Then there’s a whole shelf full of Metro and some green boxes full of assorted music magazines and “culture” things. And the Next that I was in and the New Idea with Penny’s wedding in it. You do care what magazines I read, you know, because I am sitting here trying to define myself for you. And also making a note for myself in later years to remember that now is when I have decided to put a lot more effort into being a feminist. As long as you define “effort” as “reading the magazines and making sure that I never shy away from the word”. The back cover of the 10th anniversary of Bitch made me cry at the awesomeness of a reader deciding to spend $3800 on buying it to support the magazine. And then when I spent much of the last weekend in bed reading them and Q I also got all choked up hearing Athlete’s ‘Wires’ for the first time, about the singer’s premature daughter, which tapped in to the many many baby thoughts that I have been having lately. But more about that later, perhaps.
We still haven’t found a flatmate. Quite frankly, I’m fucking loving the quiet around here when there’s so much going on in my life. It’s so good and peaceful. But I really can’t afford to keep paying $254 a week in rent, no sirree. The fact that so many people have come over and not wanted it has got me down a little, like WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH ME? WHY DON’T YOU LOVE ME? But not that down.
I went and saw my counsellor today, for the titular spring-cleaning of my head. I’d really wanted to see her a couple of weeks ago, but she was away on holiday, so I thought I’d go now before I start my new job and work miles away and all. I got the most awesome surprise though, when I told her about my new work, because it turns out that not only do they subscribe to EAP too, which means that I can get 3-5 free sessions if I need them but she’s also based at their offices every other Wednesday to do drop-in appointments. That is so fucking rad. I’m hoping I won’t actually need to see her very often, but it’s so great to know how easy it will be for me if I do. We talked about my abandonment issues, and about my sex life, and my Hard Career Decision to take up my new job instead of staying where I am, and how it’s been freaking me out to get so much praise lately, but how it’s helped me to realise that I’m actually quite good and capable. And we talked about what I need to do in order to keep my head in order (more exercise, and how excited am I about the prospect of swimming in the sea again? SO excited), and when I talked about how I feel like I’m being held hostage by my body lately, like it’s deliberately keeping my periods from me, we talked about how right now I think I will adopt children because I can’t imagine going off my meds and how I am scared shitless of postnatal depression, and she told me that there are very specific medical programmes to help people like me with that sort of issue if I change my mind at a later date. And that was nice to hear.
Tomorrow is the last day of my contract. We’re going out for dinner afterwards. I’m going to be incredibly sad to leave. I will have to treat the whole time I had there as a beautiful summer fling that was too good to last. Stupid taking care of my career and seeking out new mental challenges! Then again, my manager and I went through every single piece of paper on my desk today left over from predecessors and filed them all. My biggest filing pile was ‘R’ for ‘Recycle’. If only I could be so ruthless at home.
On Saturday after ZineFest, Miss Lisa is having her birthday party here. You should come along. The man in a bearsuit on her invitations was so good it made me embarrass myself in front of Luke Buda (yes, it was her MS Paint skills, not the wine that emboldened me). I want to write about what I got her for her birthday and what that meant I bought myself, but I will wait. Then next Saturday I’m going to Bar Camp. I don’t know what I’ll talk about yet, if anything. But seeing as how my new boss is speaking, it’s probably a good idea. And then on the 19th I’m going to another conference. I would kill for a sleep in at this stage. Sunday I plan on staying in bed all damn day. You’re all welcome to join me in my lovely black & white linen.
Right now I’m watching Watch This Space and downloading the tracks I like, which is awesome (I will buy albums if they strike me a lot). I just read a review of Fireworks Night that describes them and the Arcade Fire as “baroque-pop”. Brilliant! And yes, I’m totally going to try and use the word ‘Baroque’ in Scrabulous. But it’s time to go back to Lisa’s Outrageous Fortune DVDs and pull the duvet up, because hot damn, it’s cold. See you Saturday, yes?
