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tanaiseI emailed Dena and told her I thought I'd be coming to her place on Friday, and gave her my phone number, and asked for her address. Oh, and i need to check and see if that's mail only, or if packages can go there as well, and if not, where, cause I know you all want to send me care packages.
I made a box of books I haven't read yet but have really meant to for a while, and I think I'll have it mailed oxcart to Boston, which is like $10. and that way I'll have to read them, cause they'll be all I'll have. plus, I won't have to cart them up with my clothing, just a few for the bus and such. (and these are all non-sf type books, by and large, so they shouldn't overlap with any books Dena may have :-) Cause I know I won't be on the computer as much by a long shot, and while I hope I'll find work of some sort quickly, I'll probably have more free time than I'm used to. And I don't write long hand very much, though I'll take a new notebook, and I'll take some cross-stitch things, and maybe a ball of yarn and accessories, but I'll get very sad without enough books (thus the incentive to find a job, make money, afford new ones.), so I think this may be my best bet, yes? Or am I just justifying my need to have a large stash of books with me at all times? And if so, does that mean it's a bad thing, or is it just a thing?
I think I've figured out what the best combination of suitcases will be, but I have to pack things and see how it works out. If I mail the books, then, while ultimately I'll start out with more, I won't have to carry them on my back. I'm thinking the big pull suitcase, the big unwheeled one to clip onto it, and a backpack. I've got other bags that will have to come (business type bag, various sided purses), but they'll get packed. I have some sort of obsession with finding 'the right' bag, and while I haven't yet (rather, I did, but it got slashed 24 hours later on the Roman Metro), everyone gets me purses for presents, and they're never quite right, but they're all very useful for different reasons, so I have to limit the number of reasons. (there's "wallet," "small paperback, no wallet, cash, keys, and cards," "wallet/trade paper," "wallet, non-hardback, and various small shopping things," and "imitation laptop case,"--those are my bare minimums. After that, we start getting into details about the different materials, colors, etc. It takes me as long to pick the right bag as it does all the rest of my getting together.
I got a little wibbly today, realizing that very soon now it will be the fifth aniversary of my graduation from college, and meh! I look at myself and I say, "what have you done with yourself for the past 5 years?" And my math is very bad, so it takes a while to realize that, really, 5 years ago I was in classes still, and had just joined the OWW very recently. 4 years ago, I was in DC with a still new job. 3 years ago I was actually *in* DC. 2 years ago I was...oh, hee. I was in DC, trying to decide if I could believe the clarion acceptance I'd gotten on April first. And one year ago, I was here. And I suppose that when I look at the things I *have* done, the list gets nice--I've had a good job that paid well and had fabulous co-workers, I've gone to England and Iceland, I've lived in another city, I've gone to Clarion, I've sold a story, I've made progress writing that I'm very proud of even if others can't see it or don't think it's important, I'm moving to another new city and hoping for another good job with good money and good people. But I get caught up in what I haven't done. I'm not married with or without a kid. I haven't even dated anyone since college. I don't own a house. I don't have a job. I spent a year not working and only accomplished a few spectacular arguments with my mother, saw the other half of my family a handful of times, and wrote a couple of stories, most not ready for anything but use as mulch.
and I'm also a little wobbly because I'm scared I won't like Boston, or that I'll be scared of it. It's been a very long time since I actually was in Boston, after all, and all I really remember are bankers going to lunch while my aunt and I walked somewhere together, and they weren't all that old (probably my age, now, but this was 12 or 15 years ago), and many were good looking, and it was very decadent for some of them had *earrings*. And they all wore suits--real business suits, and had their ties flipped over their shoulders. And remember that I'm the child of a hippie family, and grew up in the middle of farm country, and I don't think I'd ever seen anyone in a suit not at a funeral or wedding before then.
And I remember tall buildings, and I've never lived near tall buildings. I mean, where I lived was only a block or two from the tallest building in DC, but that's the Cairo, which is just a lovely looking apartment building, and it's just 10 stories. And I did live in a 16 story apartment building in Alexandria, but it was all by itself on a hill, which also isn't really the same thing. So that's a little worrying there.
A whole handful of my family lives up there. My brother, my cousins, the kids of the older one, my uncle, my aunt. I adore my aunt. I have her name for my middle name, and I think if I got very very tired of being a Celia and wanted a change, I might like being an Ann. I shouldn't have favorites, but she probably is my favorite Aunt anyways. She's the only one who looks like me at all--solid and plain, and while I don't really like the way I look, if to other people I look the way she does to me, it's okay. She's a hippie, and she lives in the tiniest house, and married a farmer, and raises chickens and most of her own food, and most of my life I've thought if I could grow up and be like her, that would be really okay. And she tells the best stories. She always says the motto of our family is, What do you want? the truth or a good story?" and she always wants the good story. My dad has always said not to believe everything she says. It's not that my aunt lies. It's just that some times she isn't telling the truth. I see the distinction in whether or not she expects you to know the answer, which is just what I do, but she's not always right, in that I don't always know when she's joking.
And Kat and I just decided that there needs to be a tie code. We think it's like the handkerchief code. I was thinking it was a lot more, um, limited as to options, as we only had over the shoulder and not (or knot, but I"m not sure I"m fancy enough to tell the difference between them), but Kat is all for adding colors and patterns, and now it's got the potential to be dreadfully complicated, and if it doesn't exist it should. I think perhaps someone should invent this, and set up a webpage and all, and then we will all pretend it's real. It could be so useful for avoiding business boys in bars. "Oh, I didn't think you'd be interested in me. I mean, I'm not at all what your tie says you're interested in since I'm not a gay Asian midget." My aunt would be amused by it. :-) I, of course, would forget what I said they meant, and just tell evil boys that their ties mean bad things, and tell cute boys their ties mean they like redheads. Since that would be the whole purpose of having a language anyways. (Chance, of course, has already set up an underwear code, and is saying dirty things about Lisa, don't think I haven't noticed.)
And that was an impressively long post, and probably only the strong made it this far only to find that it really wasn't worth the trip, and it's now about...oh, and hour after I started writing it, so it's probably bedtime for me. bet you wish I'd cut tagged this, don't you? but I don't feel like I take full advantage of my opportunites to clog up your friends pages, so you're all going to have to deal with it. At least I didn't link tonight. Or include cat photos.
I made a box of books I haven't read yet but have really meant to for a while, and I think I'll have it mailed oxcart to Boston, which is like $10. and that way I'll have to read them, cause they'll be all I'll have. plus, I won't have to cart them up with my clothing, just a few for the bus and such. (and these are all non-sf type books, by and large, so they shouldn't overlap with any books Dena may have :-) Cause I know I won't be on the computer as much by a long shot, and while I hope I'll find work of some sort quickly, I'll probably have more free time than I'm used to. And I don't write long hand very much, though I'll take a new notebook, and I'll take some cross-stitch things, and maybe a ball of yarn and accessories, but I'll get very sad without enough books (thus the incentive to find a job, make money, afford new ones.), so I think this may be my best bet, yes? Or am I just justifying my need to have a large stash of books with me at all times? And if so, does that mean it's a bad thing, or is it just a thing?
I think I've figured out what the best combination of suitcases will be, but I have to pack things and see how it works out. If I mail the books, then, while ultimately I'll start out with more, I won't have to carry them on my back. I'm thinking the big pull suitcase, the big unwheeled one to clip onto it, and a backpack. I've got other bags that will have to come (business type bag, various sided purses), but they'll get packed. I have some sort of obsession with finding 'the right' bag, and while I haven't yet (rather, I did, but it got slashed 24 hours later on the Roman Metro), everyone gets me purses for presents, and they're never quite right, but they're all very useful for different reasons, so I have to limit the number of reasons. (there's "wallet," "small paperback, no wallet, cash, keys, and cards," "wallet/trade paper," "wallet, non-hardback, and various small shopping things," and "imitation laptop case,"--those are my bare minimums. After that, we start getting into details about the different materials, colors, etc. It takes me as long to pick the right bag as it does all the rest of my getting together.
I got a little wibbly today, realizing that very soon now it will be the fifth aniversary of my graduation from college, and meh! I look at myself and I say, "what have you done with yourself for the past 5 years?" And my math is very bad, so it takes a while to realize that, really, 5 years ago I was in classes still, and had just joined the OWW very recently. 4 years ago, I was in DC with a still new job. 3 years ago I was actually *in* DC. 2 years ago I was...oh, hee. I was in DC, trying to decide if I could believe the clarion acceptance I'd gotten on April first. And one year ago, I was here. And I suppose that when I look at the things I *have* done, the list gets nice--I've had a good job that paid well and had fabulous co-workers, I've gone to England and Iceland, I've lived in another city, I've gone to Clarion, I've sold a story, I've made progress writing that I'm very proud of even if others can't see it or don't think it's important, I'm moving to another new city and hoping for another good job with good money and good people. But I get caught up in what I haven't done. I'm not married with or without a kid. I haven't even dated anyone since college. I don't own a house. I don't have a job. I spent a year not working and only accomplished a few spectacular arguments with my mother, saw the other half of my family a handful of times, and wrote a couple of stories, most not ready for anything but use as mulch.
and I'm also a little wobbly because I'm scared I won't like Boston, or that I'll be scared of it. It's been a very long time since I actually was in Boston, after all, and all I really remember are bankers going to lunch while my aunt and I walked somewhere together, and they weren't all that old (probably my age, now, but this was 12 or 15 years ago), and many were good looking, and it was very decadent for some of them had *earrings*. And they all wore suits--real business suits, and had their ties flipped over their shoulders. And remember that I'm the child of a hippie family, and grew up in the middle of farm country, and I don't think I'd ever seen anyone in a suit not at a funeral or wedding before then.
And I remember tall buildings, and I've never lived near tall buildings. I mean, where I lived was only a block or two from the tallest building in DC, but that's the Cairo, which is just a lovely looking apartment building, and it's just 10 stories. And I did live in a 16 story apartment building in Alexandria, but it was all by itself on a hill, which also isn't really the same thing. So that's a little worrying there.
A whole handful of my family lives up there. My brother, my cousins, the kids of the older one, my uncle, my aunt. I adore my aunt. I have her name for my middle name, and I think if I got very very tired of being a Celia and wanted a change, I might like being an Ann. I shouldn't have favorites, but she probably is my favorite Aunt anyways. She's the only one who looks like me at all--solid and plain, and while I don't really like the way I look, if to other people I look the way she does to me, it's okay. She's a hippie, and she lives in the tiniest house, and married a farmer, and raises chickens and most of her own food, and most of my life I've thought if I could grow up and be like her, that would be really okay. And she tells the best stories. She always says the motto of our family is, What do you want? the truth or a good story?" and she always wants the good story. My dad has always said not to believe everything she says. It's not that my aunt lies. It's just that some times she isn't telling the truth. I see the distinction in whether or not she expects you to know the answer, which is just what I do, but she's not always right, in that I don't always know when she's joking.
And Kat and I just decided that there needs to be a tie code. We think it's like the handkerchief code. I was thinking it was a lot more, um, limited as to options, as we only had over the shoulder and not (or knot, but I"m not sure I"m fancy enough to tell the difference between them), but Kat is all for adding colors and patterns, and now it's got the potential to be dreadfully complicated, and if it doesn't exist it should. I think perhaps someone should invent this, and set up a webpage and all, and then we will all pretend it's real. It could be so useful for avoiding business boys in bars. "Oh, I didn't think you'd be interested in me. I mean, I'm not at all what your tie says you're interested in since I'm not a gay Asian midget." My aunt would be amused by it. :-) I, of course, would forget what I said they meant, and just tell evil boys that their ties mean bad things, and tell cute boys their ties mean they like redheads. Since that would be the whole purpose of having a language anyways. (Chance, of course, has already set up an underwear code, and is saying dirty things about Lisa, don't think I haven't noticed.)
And that was an impressively long post, and probably only the strong made it this far only to find that it really wasn't worth the trip, and it's now about...oh, and hour after I started writing it, so it's probably bedtime for me. bet you wish I'd cut tagged this, don't you? but I don't feel like I take full advantage of my opportunites to clog up your friends pages, so you're all going to have to deal with it. At least I didn't link tonight. Or include cat photos.
no subject
Date: 2004-04-06 08:59 am (UTC)From Becca re Being 26
Date: 2004-04-09 02:01 pm (UTC)