I am at the coffee shop. Surrounded by people talking, yet so very alone. Heaven.
This is the very first time I've had to myself in.... I don't want to know how long. I think it's about..... Oh, crap. I looked at the calendar. I haven't had time to myself, all alone, since the 5th. Fourteen days ago. You mothers roll your eyes and mock me, I know, and you should. But I lived alone until a year and a half ago, and I love my time alone, and I realize now why I've been jumpy. Granted, being with Lala is in many ways better than being alone, and I'm completely comfortable with her -- I am no one but myself with her, which is what's hard about being around other people -- you always have to make sure you're acting like a responsible member of society (they'll never know).
Today is a day off. A day OFF! I'm going to do some writing -- it's been busy and hard to focus at work, and I'm ALWAYS at work, don't know if I mentioned that -- and I'm going to see my sisters -- HAPPY BIRTHDAY CHRISTY! -- and I'm going to drop clothes at the thrift store, and sell some books I purged out of my collection, and maybe, if I'm lucky, I'll get all that done in time to get to yoga for the first time in over a year. I know I'm doing too much, but this is my DAY OFF! I get to do what I want, and if I want to do too much, then hooray!
I fixed my bike! Well, really, I fixed it by plugging the cord back in, and then it didn't work, and then Lala looked at it and did the exact same thing and it was fixed, so I'm saying I fixed it. I rode it to work(ish) yesterday, and it was great. Rode it to the coffee chop this morning, and I tell you what -- it makes me feel independent, in a very strange, nice way. Using my legs! My power! Making my body take me somewhere! Granted, it's only five miles roundtrip to the coffee shop, and it's flat, but still! The power!
Oh, I'm babblish today. Happy.
I believe (but this won't be confirmed till next week) that I made it into the next round of the romance novel competition, THANKS TO YOU ALL! There will be 25 people in that round, and the top three move on, so I'll be coming to you begging again for your American Idol-style of voting (the real goal is to get into the last round, where Simon&Schuster reads your manuscript -- I honestly don't care if I win or lose, but I'd love it to be read).
Meantime, I should stop writing this and start doing the real writing. But you're so fun.
Guess who's doing great? Digit! Oh, my man. You know, every night when I'm cuddling him, I thank him for coming home. He's a big jerk, and he ignores the kittens (who aren't so much kittens anymore but rather thick juveniles) until they chase his tail and then he clobbers them while emitting a blood-curdling scream (him, not them, they just roll with the punches). Clara is back to being scared to death of him, which is just as it should be. He hasn't even really tried too hard to get outside, thank god. Seems happy to be inside, happy to be up on the table glaring at all the ridiculous animals in his house. Likes to be the manager, watching all that goes on, disapproving of everything. Man, if he could give demerits.....
And it's almost Fall! Can't you feel it? Today especially, with more clouds than usual and the threats of thundershowers later today and tomorrow (guess I won't ride tomorrow to work, no fenders yet), it just feels perfect.
Oh, and over the weekend we went to a perfect wedding, a Whoreshoes wedding. Camilla loves Kirk, and they got married in the Presidio Yacht Club, an old building where almost every window looks onto the Golden Gate Bridge, being that the place is tucked almost under it, right on the Bay. They walked down to music by the Whoreshoes and Rube Waddell, and then they got married on the dock in a wonderful Buddhist/non-traditional ceremony, then exited to Ode to Joy, performed by All on the kazoos they had thoughtfully provided. The Mexican food was great, as was the dancing that followed. Lala was hit on in a smashingly rude way by a chick that actually rolled her eyes when I introduced myself (La didn't see that). Poor Lala doesn't ever know when she's being hit on, so she had some interesting extrication moments over the shot the gal insisted on doing with her, and then Lala did a fantastic job of flattering me back into happiness. I do not struggle with jealousy, thankfully, and I am not insecure, however, if you're RUDE to me, and then hit on my wife? I will be annoyed. Also, her lipstick was ALL wrong.
(Truthfully it was one of those champagne drama-moments that made everyone feel good -- Lala knows she's still got it even though she didn't see it coming, and I get flattered and complimented and adored all night -- what could be better? And we never have drama, so when we do, it's all interesting and over in fifteen minutes. One has to enjoy it while it's happening.)
And really, who wouldn't hit on her? Besides the bride, everyone agreed she was in the best outfit:
That suit, my friends, is actually shiny and blue, and her tie was gloriously peach/pink, and that tie-tack is in the shape of a saddle (a gift from my sister, I think?). I wore my alpaca wedding stole during the outside ceremony on the water, and seriously shed on all the men wearing black. I forgot how that thing reaches out to anything black and eats it.
I am a chatterbox. I think I'm done. It's so nice here. I'm a part of all of it, near the talking, but having to talk to no one. I'm in a corner alone, and no one is talking near me, so all the voices blend into one low murmuring sound. I will get on my bike soon and ride home and meet my sister who has to finish something for my birthday sister -- oh! I finished something that I should photograph! I've been so busy I haven't been on Ravelry in forever! Oh, Ravelry, I miss you.....
Are you still here? Aren't you nice. I like you. I hope you're having a very nice day, and that your blueberry muffin has brown sugar on top today.