T-minus 23 hours and counting.
Feel like I should wear a steel helmet 'till the clock runs out.
Piss off, 2013.
No, No, NOOOO--!
I will NOT be sick for NYE!
Ugh, sick as a dog, wet cough and gunk in my lungs, fantastic. 2014, let's just consider this getting all the shit out of the way early, shall we?
Once I'm feeling better - and my voice has returned - some of you should expect to receive calls/emails/texts about scheduling sittings. I plan to fill up my calendar.
2014: Hit the ground running.
Mug of hot tea with honey and ginseng (and a little of Amy's magic sprinkled in for good measure)... shot of NyQuil (Green Death flavor, natch), which oughta knock me out sometime in the next four minutes... Jeff mixing up some medicine for me, Amy's offer of magic soup... dammit, if this thing isn't out of me in record time, it won't be for lack of trying!
PS: When the gunk moves into my lungs and starts to affect my breathing, that's when I start to get nervous (nothing like pneumonia on top of asthma for a good time). I want to say how much I really appreciate the help. Any voodoo potion secret Injun medicine homeopathic magic Jewish penicillin is most welcome.
So today we're at the "my skin hurts" stage. Yay.
So they've apparently discontinued the type of Proventil emergency inhaler I used to use... the one I got in June (and *really* needed this week) barely has any pressure; it fires like it's empty though I know it's not (I was told they'd changed it).
Though it barely opened my pipes (this cold has really triggered ALL the alarms... lung capacity cut in half, today's the first day I'm not feeling, frankly, kinda claustrophobic), it didn't hesitate to rattle my windows. Man, I fucking hate asthma meds. So glad I managed to get myself off of all the stuff they had me taking daily.
I am gonna have to talk to the doc (and I'm gonna ask for a different one; the last one behaved like a royal DICK) about this inhaler... "emergency inhaler" means I'm only gonna use it when I'm at serious break-the-fucking-glass emergency status. Having to go through an entire weekend feeling like I'm being smothered (oh, but WIDE FUCKING AWAKE) because the inhaler is useless and the doc, despite policy, isn't answering his pages is really, really uncool.
The temperature 14 degrees and dropping, I'm oddly seized by a Christmas-in-July mood (well, reverse that).
First official shoot of 2014 booked. Hot damn!
So a couple of years ago someone gave me a bromeliad (air plant).
Question: how do you know if it's still alive?
Sigmund doesn't look any different from the day he was given to me. I spritz him with water every once in a while, move him around the house now and then (so he won't get bored), make sure he has sun but nothing direct.
After all these years, the advent of email, texting, etc... it's still such a sweet little thrill to go to the Post Office and pick out stamps!
Lately I've been thinking a lot about painting.
Typically, my ink-on-paper imagery has been through printmaking: lithography, intaglio... linocut and woodcut when I don't have access to a printing press. My prints always feel a bit painterly.
I did a lot of watercolour when I was a kid. Feeling like larger-scale painting lately, kinda like craving chocolate. Intriguing development.
This morning I picked back up with a good habit.
Watch out, 2014, I mean business.
Interesting conversation with a cop on my way back this morning.
He stopped me for slamming on my brakes, tires squealing-- saying I was "obviously exceeding the speed limit".
And then I reached through my window to point out the Stop sign he'd blown through, causing me to slam on my brakes.
"Okay, well I'll let you off with a warning, then."
You bet you will, motherfucker.
So frickin' cold in the house today, bundled up, continuing to be so very, very grateful I managed to just barely skirt the glut of traffic yesterday, thinking of all the people I care about who sat in their cars for hours upon hours (and some still aren't home!). I am grateful.
With respect to Richard Scroggs, who is in insurance and I'm sure quite good at it--
I get a lot of emails from Heritage Life, trying to entice me into selling insurance. I don't want to sell insurance. I'm not a salesperson. I have a lot of talents and have intelligence and aptitude for tons of avenues-- but not sales. That is the one talent I was not given.
Wake me when the curator positions start pouring in, wouldja? Ta.
Working my way through Season Three of American Horror Story (thanx for the boost, Jeanne Chan!), I am absolutely a-twitter over Frances Conroy and how they've styled this series' character so strongly after Grace Coddington. Fan-fucking-tastic!
Woke up at 2AM to a tap on the shoulder. “Pass the salt.”