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I sit at the computer, my hand reaches for the mouse, my right shoulder goes up, my head cocks to the left. It's always been this way.
When did I start tilting my head down as if I were demure? Am I demure? It's never been something I really understood. I don't know if the word indicates an action or a feeling. Some would say that I've never been demure and that the question is funny. Yet, when I find myself ducking away from people I think, yes, yes, I am, or at least very shy, on some level.
I got an e-mail from a friend of mine in the SCA... who seems to be becoming a friend, because we hang out at the same places and do the same things. His name is Ben. "Always boys," Mark says. I said, no, Lady Rhiannon (Goddess only knows what infinite titles of hers I am forgetting), and Ella, and Peryn, and Genevieve are my friends, too, but it's different.
I always thought I didn't like women, but that's too aggressive a stance. I'm mostly afraid of them. They often think I'm after their boyfriends, although I never have done that, chased other people's anythings, any opinions to the contrary notwithstanding. And if I'm not a threat, they rarely find me interesting. Men often do find me interesting. But my father taught me well, and I act more like one of the boys, sometimes. Too bad I can't throw.
I look at the things I have to do today and think that procrastinating for 10 minutes will somehow make it easier... or pointless.
I want to make a dress for A&S, and I don't know if I've messed things up, because I thought they needed an extra and now it looks like I have taken someone's place for Oranges and Lemons.
I want to divide my 'friends' list into groups: Furries, N9, Innovox, others.
I want to transfer my deadjournal over here. I don't want it over there any longer. I want to go away from all that.
I can't feel an appetite about anything lately. Except maybe writing, and not even writing, I'll do puzzles, or this, or write in my diary, nothing at all, just to draw the smooth lines. To control. To lose control. To have. To desire. I don't know what I want. I don't know if wanting is the thing to do.
So, today, buy batteries and catfood, call Francis about sewing time, plan to take Memorial Day weekend off for Kingdom A&S, and call in my schedule for next week. Then take the kids to the mall. *yawn* I hate the mall. Maybe I'll get my ears pierced, just for something to do. Maybe I'll take them to some other mall, just so I will have someplace that I can't see all of (and already know by heart) in 10 minutes.
When did I start tilting my head down as if I were demure? Am I demure? It's never been something I really understood. I don't know if the word indicates an action or a feeling. Some would say that I've never been demure and that the question is funny. Yet, when I find myself ducking away from people I think, yes, yes, I am, or at least very shy, on some level.
I got an e-mail from a friend of mine in the SCA... who seems to be becoming a friend, because we hang out at the same places and do the same things. His name is Ben. "Always boys," Mark says. I said, no, Lady Rhiannon (Goddess only knows what infinite titles of hers I am forgetting), and Ella, and Peryn, and Genevieve are my friends, too, but it's different.
I always thought I didn't like women, but that's too aggressive a stance. I'm mostly afraid of them. They often think I'm after their boyfriends, although I never have done that, chased other people's anythings, any opinions to the contrary notwithstanding. And if I'm not a threat, they rarely find me interesting. Men often do find me interesting. But my father taught me well, and I act more like one of the boys, sometimes. Too bad I can't throw.
I look at the things I have to do today and think that procrastinating for 10 minutes will somehow make it easier... or pointless.
I want to make a dress for A&S, and I don't know if I've messed things up, because I thought they needed an extra and now it looks like I have taken someone's place for Oranges and Lemons.
I want to divide my 'friends' list into groups: Furries, N9, Innovox, others.
I want to transfer my deadjournal over here. I don't want it over there any longer. I want to go away from all that.
I can't feel an appetite about anything lately. Except maybe writing, and not even writing, I'll do puzzles, or this, or write in my diary, nothing at all, just to draw the smooth lines. To control. To lose control. To have. To desire. I don't know what I want. I don't know if wanting is the thing to do.
So, today, buy batteries and catfood, call Francis about sewing time, plan to take Memorial Day weekend off for Kingdom A&S, and call in my schedule for next week. Then take the kids to the mall. *yawn* I hate the mall. Maybe I'll get my ears pierced, just for something to do. Maybe I'll take them to some other mall, just so I will have someplace that I can't see all of (and already know by heart) in 10 minutes.
