(no subject)
Jan. 29th, 2016 07:53 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kittydesadeDoing Grimmer stuff last night has led me to the realization that, really, the school of witchcraft we subscribe to is actually Belgarath's. Which is to say, gesturing at something and expending will and telling it "Move." Or if we feel like expending more than one word's worth of energy on it, "Fucking move." How remarkable.
In my case we can blame this on having a teacher who, yes, taught protocols and recommended books and histories and spent most of his time hanging out on the porch drinking horrifying sludge he decided to honor with the name of coffee, smoking *cough ahem never mind* and alternately leching and insulting. Yes, he was in fact a walking talking stereotype in some behavioral ways. But he also taught, look, the friffy froofy shit has its place, but you don't NEED it. You need focus, clarity, intent. Ethics. Morality.
And ultimately I decided what I need was to flap my hand and something and say "Move." Go figure.
(though I suppose in the semi-unlikely event I ever get asked to lead a ritual I should come up with full-bore Ritual, because I do know better)
And in keeping with the pattern of this week, I slept like absolute crap last night. I have absolutely no idea why except that possibly my body has gotten super-sensitive and therefore super itchy due to, what, dry skin? Because it seemed to ease back with the keeping me awake once I changed out of my blouse I'd been wearing and into a cotton tank top. So maybe I try that tonight, because god knows I don't want to miss another day of capoeira because I can't fucking sleep. That's annoying on so many levels in the short and long term.
I suppose the upside, not really an upside what's the word for something good that happens despite all evidence to the contrary that it should? Is that I'm still being efficient about my morning routine, cramming everything in like I at least got the bare minimum of sleep. I'm hopefully going to get 20 minutes on the couch at work around lunch, and then another 30-45 when I get home, and with luck that ought to keep me from falling over while I try to juggle everything I'm normally juggling.
Including makeup! Since I have a few weeks to wait (I think) for my Fyrinnae makeup I'm thinking I'll start trying to be better about getting foundation and lipstick on. And possibly about taking it to work to touch up over the day, assuming I have to. I probably will. Mousse in my bangs. It won't take too much out of my day, and I can do it after exercise while I'm gasping for breath. The trick will be arranging it around the bf's schedule of come home early in the morning and collapse. Well, in winter. In summer I get up early enough that that's not a problem. Argh scheduling. Argh having to think about and practice performative femininity. Or as I like to call it, war paint/warning coloration. Today's lipstick is Aromaleigh's Dragon's Kiss, described as I'm wearing the blood of my enemies. Hee.
Actually it started with slapping on the lipstick after foundational stuff, then deciding I wanted my bangs to behave and moussing them. But, what the hell.
So, that's my resolution for next week. Get some goddamn decent fucking sleep such that I can get up the next morning and put on war paint as well as flatten my goddamn bangs into behaving, and, you know, be rested the rest of the day. The rest, well, I got a surprising amount of shit done yesterday writing wise and in general, let's see if I can get that done today too.
In my case we can blame this on having a teacher who, yes, taught protocols and recommended books and histories and spent most of his time hanging out on the porch drinking horrifying sludge he decided to honor with the name of coffee, smoking *cough ahem never mind* and alternately leching and insulting. Yes, he was in fact a walking talking stereotype in some behavioral ways. But he also taught, look, the friffy froofy shit has its place, but you don't NEED it. You need focus, clarity, intent. Ethics. Morality.
And ultimately I decided what I need was to flap my hand and something and say "Move." Go figure.
(though I suppose in the semi-unlikely event I ever get asked to lead a ritual I should come up with full-bore Ritual, because I do know better)
And in keeping with the pattern of this week, I slept like absolute crap last night. I have absolutely no idea why except that possibly my body has gotten super-sensitive and therefore super itchy due to, what, dry skin? Because it seemed to ease back with the keeping me awake once I changed out of my blouse I'd been wearing and into a cotton tank top. So maybe I try that tonight, because god knows I don't want to miss another day of capoeira because I can't fucking sleep. That's annoying on so many levels in the short and long term.
I suppose the upside, not really an upside what's the word for something good that happens despite all evidence to the contrary that it should? Is that I'm still being efficient about my morning routine, cramming everything in like I at least got the bare minimum of sleep. I'm hopefully going to get 20 minutes on the couch at work around lunch, and then another 30-45 when I get home, and with luck that ought to keep me from falling over while I try to juggle everything I'm normally juggling.
Including makeup! Since I have a few weeks to wait (I think) for my Fyrinnae makeup I'm thinking I'll start trying to be better about getting foundation and lipstick on. And possibly about taking it to work to touch up over the day, assuming I have to. I probably will. Mousse in my bangs. It won't take too much out of my day, and I can do it after exercise while I'm gasping for breath. The trick will be arranging it around the bf's schedule of come home early in the morning and collapse. Well, in winter. In summer I get up early enough that that's not a problem. Argh scheduling. Argh having to think about and practice performative femininity. Or as I like to call it, war paint/warning coloration. Today's lipstick is Aromaleigh's Dragon's Kiss, described as I'm wearing the blood of my enemies. Hee.
Actually it started with slapping on the lipstick after foundational stuff, then deciding I wanted my bangs to behave and moussing them. But, what the hell.
So, that's my resolution for next week. Get some goddamn decent fucking sleep such that I can get up the next morning and put on war paint as well as flatten my goddamn bangs into behaving, and, you know, be rested the rest of the day. The rest, well, I got a surprising amount of shit done yesterday writing wise and in general, let's see if I can get that done today too.
(no subject)
Date: 2016-01-30 06:56 pm (UTC)make-up has been part of my emotional armor lately. <3
(no subject)
Date: 2016-02-01 01:11 am (UTC)Makeup is still a skill I'm acquiring but it seems to be going better bit by bit! I do the war paint thing, and it helps.
(no subject)
Date: 2016-02-01 12:31 pm (UTC)war paint is a good description of it. also amulets and talismans. yes.
also I have a great strategy for the gyn stirrups now: i have these knee high fox socks and also some that have actual curse words on them and I wear those and look at them if I have to. it helps.
(no subject)
Date: 2016-02-01 06:11 pm (UTC)Oh yes. Talismans are often useful.
... I may have to try that next time. In three years, thanks be to the gods, because the last one came back all clear and my doctor is a good doctor and a wise doctor who only does the damn poking once every three years.
(no subject)
Date: 2016-02-01 06:56 pm (UTC)i was using the entropy method of passwords and AIM cuts of their password at 16 characters but did not give me any notification that my password had hit their limit (bad AIM!)
so once I typed in just the first 16 characters it was fine. phew!
I'm also on gchat.
poking every 3 years yay!
I am trying to get the horrible uterus of doom taking over my life thing taken care of somehow, which means frequent poking atm. UGH.
(no subject)
Date: 2016-02-02 04:15 pm (UTC)I am SO glad the regulations on that changed. Which makes much more sense! At least to me, I usually have a reasonable sense when Something Has Fucked Up In My Body but I haven't changed sexual partners in umpteenfuckity years, or habits, or anything, so .... it's not exactly like I'm high risk for anything except the vagaries of genetics/cellular fuckery. So bleh.
UGH. I'm so sorry. It ... well, UGH about covers it. And many varied swear words.