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"For a handful of coin I happen to have a private and uncut performance of the Rape of the Sabine Women, or rather woman, or rather... Alfred."

Mmm.

This past weekend has been great but wow. Yesterday was spent largely bumming around and being either incredibly lazy or exercising to Depeche Mode.

Friday was the Girl's Night In. In which there was Kingdom Hospital and a truly staggering amount of Eddie Izzard. Also cheesecake ice cream. And pizza. There were many comments about how we would love to be in the middle of a Paul/Antubis, er, sandwich. Some discussion about what exactly constitutes bad behavior from a death god and how it probably isn't manipulating the lives of mortals so that most of the good ones wind up happy in the end. And, of course, giggling at Eddie Izzard and discussing the fact that he should never ever wear lingerie on camera ever again.

Saturday night was dinner at the Old Spaghetti factory. For, like 12 people. They stuck us in what I guess is the party room, since apart from not having a giant trolley car in the middle it had a number of long party tables. We all did separate checks, which made things so much easier, and several of us got balloon hats. Apparently four of us had birthdays in that period. And two were celebrating their 6th anniversary, but they didn't get balloon hats for that. Then we had ice cream cake, or rather half of an ice cream cake. The outer half, since that cake would probably have fed twenty people, at least. The rest of the cake went back to feed the servers, kitchen folk, whoever else wanted some. our donation to the restaurant for putting up with us.

Then there was Dave and Buster's. Which was a bit of a bust, as the underage birthday boy got there early and was turned away for not having an adult chaperone. UGH. But the rest of us got in there all right. There was copious amounts of skeeball, and slightly less copious amounts of what R called (and I giggled over) the "Old Lady Slots." Which is to say they were like slot machiens, only they spat out tickets, and there was a button instead of an arm. We also played air hockey, I lost horribly seeing as I've never played before, and I wore out my arm playing shooting games as well as skee ball. And then we also dropped some money on drinks. We got pretty colorful drinks in pretty glasses and wandered around pretending to be rich and decadent and flirting with the bartender. It was great.

And then Sunday I recovered from it all. Oi. Normal activity to resume today! Starting with me going to work, bleh. But. All in all, that's defintiely the best big birthday I've had in a while.

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I scrapped last year's Money file that I never updated and entered in the last few days of account activity. I might actually get better at keeping a bank book now? One hopes. Especially since I'm attempting to keep track of writing things for tax purposes this year. Heh. But I also paid prescriptions and college bills and did the whole insurance thing. So that's good.

I had a bizarre realization today when I was out on walkies. This Lammas will be ten years since I was initiated Third Degree ... that means absolutely nothing to most of you. And I can't think how to translate it, so anyway. Since I was initiated Third Degree and Elder by Old Snake. Ten years a High Priestess. And that's far too many capital letters.

Faith is a large part of my life, but it's not a very prominent part of my life. I don't have any students. I don't have a regular circle. I'm a solitary, I sit in the room or go out in the backyard and do my ritual. I observe my holidays and my meditations and, really, never talk about it much on here. Or at all. To anyone. Ever. Maybe it's just a part of not being all that close to my old community, Serpent Stone, or maybe it's just being wary of the community where I live now. No clue.

Ten years ago I was studying with Old Snake. I was also still in high school. I started studying when I was still in middle school. He decided I was old enough, educated enough, wise enough, something enough. Ready to be a High Priestess. So, that Lammas, I had my initiation. I wonder, sometimes, if it was so young because he wanted to be there in person and in life. Sometimes I wonder if I was ready. It's turned out all right in the end. It just. It feels odd. I still feel like the youngest initiate, the youngest High Prietess. I still feel, sometimes, too young for this.

Other times I feel too old for this shit, so I guess it balances out.

Ten years. Ten long, hard years, full of lessons, full of joys as well. It's an odd feeling. It's even odder to think where I've ended up, both so far and not far at all from where I thought I'd be. I do still have my Tower, for one thing.

Huh.

(no subject)

.. I totally forgot to do this. Here, six things about me. No, you do not get to point out if I've posted these before.

1. I'm actually allergic to cats. Ironical, isn't it? My allergies are limited to a histamine reaction from feline overload, and since I've generally lived with cats for most of my life (except for college and a couple years after) and live with two now, they don't usually come out unless I suddenly go into a house with nine cats or something.

2. I've never worn makeup. I have no idea how to put it on. No, that's not true, I've worn makeup? Just, it's mostly been for theatre. So if I put on makeup it looks good from about fifteen feet away and further. And, yeah. That's about it.

3. Up until I was about sixteen, fifteen, I wanted ot be a dancer. I just about wanted it as much as I want to be a writer now, only I didn't quite have as clear a picture of what it would take. After a while I watched some films, went to Broadway. I think it was realizing what it would take that turned me off dancing. I don't have a strong enough body image to keep doing that. I barely have a strong enough self-esteem to keep writing.

4. When I was younger, and my friend and I used to stay at my family's beach house, we used to pretend the X-Men were after us. Well, the X-Men bad guys. Whenever we walked up and down the beach at night collecting driftwood for the fireplace Sabretooth was always a few feet behind. There was much squealing and running and secretly lusting after the poor people. We were also convinced that one house labeled 'Monroe' along the phone pole, next to the mailbox, was Storm's house.

We also were convinced, after the first time we saw Buffy the Vampire Slayer, that the vampires were after us. The movie, that is.

5. I've seen Richard III on stage at least four times. That I can remember. Of all of those times my favorite Richard is still Tom McCamus. He just had this evil smirk that still gives me shivers. He was also one of the most sympathetic. My favorite setting, cliche as it is for Richard, is still the Nazi-Germany-esque one at the Free for All at Carter Barron. They had the coolest sets for that one.

6. Here's one that just came up at dinner today; when I was a kid I put mint jelly on every meat I had. I have no idea how that started, except that someone said some kind of meat (lamb, I think?) was supposed to have mint jelly with it. I liked it so much that I insisted on having it at every meal at which there was chicken or beef or something. Except fried chicken. Or stewmeat. But roast beef, chicken breast, just about everything had to have mint jelly with it. My grandmother made me cold beef and mint jelly sandwiches for school lunch. I didn't stop that until I got to college. Come to think of it, maybe I should pick some up tomorrow since we have roast beef leftovers....

( And a meme, taken from bria, starwatching, and nutty )