10 October 2002
Well, it was evidently not the night for my baseball teams. Ah well. Win some, lose some. The Twins were playing somewhat better towards the end of the game -- just not enough better to make up for the beginning of the game. There are still more games.
So yesterday Amber came down and hung out on the spur of the moment. I was so into that. I misunderstood her to mean that she was going to stick around for the beef stroganoff, which she did not, so I didn't make an effort to step away from the computer and watch "Shanghai Noon" with her and Timprov. But in a way, that was nice, too. In college, I was really used to having random friends show up and hang out in my room (or my physics office, which I shared with several other people) and do their homework or goof off while I was doing my homework. Or my laundry. Or cleaning my room. Etc. It was less of an event to have random friends around in college than it ever had been before. I had come kind of close the summer before I went to high school, when I would hang out with Mandy or Kristy or both, and they'd read or look at magazines or whatever, and I'd write, and we'd talk a little when we felt like it and otherwise not.
Hmm. As I think about this, I think it might be more noticeable for only children. Having someone you care about around but not necessarily actively interacting is less novel for people with siblings, I would imagine.
Anyway, I'm now used to being around Mark and Timprov and not paying them much attention when we don't feel like it, but I kind of miss having other people around with whom I can do that. I miss seeing my friends enough that I feel I can do that. It's not that I'm not comfortable enough around people out here, it's that I don't have enough time with them, so I want to make every second count in an active way.
Ah well. After Amber left, I realized I'd been going like sixty all day. (Is "going like sixty" -- distinct from "going, like, sixty" -- a common phrase, or is that a family thing?) Possibly all week. The "to do" list is in tatters: much of it is "to done." I may have Part 1 of the Not The Moose done by the time we leave for Minnesota. I will not have Part 2 done, and the whole thing -- um, no. Definitely not. And I won't have the new Chinese immigration book done, either, and that's all right, because it's not due until mid-December.
And the Not The Moose book is not due ever. I can take as much time as I need to get this book right. (See, I would worry about saying that, except that I'm very much not the sort of person to get hung up on it and spend the next twenty years writing it. No, no. By "all the time I need," I still mean "finished before we move." But I tend to act as though it has to be done tomorrow for whatever reasons, and that's just not true.)
So, yeah. I've been acting as though everything on my to do list needs to be done right this very minute, and that's just not good. I've been focusing on keeping my shoulders from Nixoning, and even focusing very much on it, it's been harder than usual. So. Today, I'm trying to make sure to breathe. People tend to like it when I breathe every day. So today I will make them happy.
One of the things is, my yoga tapes breathe too fast. I noticed this from the start -- they'll tell me to fill my lungs, and when I'm only halfway full, they'll tell me to exhale. Not quite what one's supposed to be going for. So I'm doing it without the tapes today, slowing down, seeing if that helps.
Guess we'll find out.
I love today's Boondocks. I don't know how to permanently link to it, but they've got a calendar, so you can find it later if you're looking. (Update, 6:50 p.m.: the permanent link is here. Thanks, Jym!)
I find the most ridiculous things to worry about sometimes. I was just dreading calling a travel agent to ask about travel to Finland yesterday, and it took me all of about ten minutes to get the information I needed. And, of course, it's their job to tell people about travel to wherever they want to go, so it was not an issue for the travel agent. Helsinki is expensive. Maybe I'll write a book about Las Vegas next time. Las Vegas is cheap to get to.
(I hate Las Vegas. There will be no Las Vegas book. The nearest I want to get to Las Vegas is maybe rereading Last Call sometime. That's not the nearest I want to get to writing a book about Las Vegas, either, that's the nearest I want to get to Las Vegas itself.)
I think it's that if I'm more worried already, then it only makes sense in my subconscious to worry proportionally rather than absolutely. So a twinge becomes a wave.
That would explain why I find ridiculous things to worry about, not why I hate Las Vegas.
Ah well. I have lots of good books to read, things to do to get out of hyperdrive and rest, decent work to when I can't manage to stay out of hyperdrive, or when I can work in a mellow fashion, and many, many good things to eat. Oh, so many. Hard to decide what to eat with this many good things in the house. Sugar snap peas. Yum. And tonight it is not my turn to cook.
Yesterday at the grocery store, there was a tiny little old lady who needed help getting her yogurt off the high shelf, and when I passed close by her to put the yogurt in her cart, she smelled like my Gran, like Emeraude and AquaNet.
Yesterday I got to hear a quite lengthy story from the adorable Annalina. It was mostly in Pashtu, except for "Mommy" and "Gramma," so I have no idea what the story was. But it was quite important, and I seem to have responded satisfactorily. Which is a relief. I really hate frustrating little ones with my grown-up idiocy. (I kind of like it, though, when they get to be Miss Siri's age and can be tolerant of said grown-up idiocy.)
Yesterday I just sat and watched the game and ate ice cream with caramel and Ghirardelli chips and talked to Mark and Timprov.
There's no reason to be all worried. Yesterday was okay. Today will be, too.
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