"My Ever-Changing Moods."
Nov. 5th, 2004 01:26 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ysobellePaul Weller's the special guest on The World Cafe today. Takes me back, it does.
Interesting day. I took a step back to move forward: I took myself in for a tune-up. Seems I'm in better shape than I'd feared, though not as perfect as I'd hoped. I'm going to try something new and see if it helps. There's so much I want to do, and I can't seem to prod myself into enough movement.
I'm looking into new ideas, and new ways of making my life more of what I want it to be. Small but concrete things. I want to try some fabric painting and see what I wind up with. I want to try some new venues for my corsets. I want to be appreciated for what I do, and if I can't win playing by someone else's rules, by G-d, I'll make up my own damned game.
I unexpectedly got a fairly nice evening out to brighten my day. I stopped by Mom and Dad's house, and it just so happened that they were going out with my sister and brother-in-law and their neighbours for the Thursday night prime rib buffet at the Union League. It was, of course, divine. A small, high-ceilinged, dark wood-panelled dining room, candles in tiny brass torchieres, a fire in the fireplace, personalised tankards for club members, genial waitstaff to see to every whim-- and my 21-month-old niece charming everyone in the place. And ohh, the food. How can you go wrong?
Sarah calls me by name now: she does so with both names, and often. She's at an age to be fickle, and tomorrow it may be someone else, but she couldn't get enough of Aunt "Nissy" today. I'm okay with that. Even better, she handed me her crayons and paper today and grinned at me. I sat on the floor beside her and wrote her name in careful block letters.
"What's that say, then?"
"Sa-sah!" she replied, which is the only way, at present, she can say her own name.
Laughing, I called Mom into the room, and asked Sarah to repeat her bit of prowess, as I'd been so charmed. Mom's jaw hit the floor.
"I, er, take it she's never done that before?" I asked mildly.
I immediately called Susan at work to inform her that her baby, while she's not exactly up to The Washington Post over breakfast, can recognise her name in print.
My sister groaned. "Oh, boy."
"Yup," I smiled with the same wicked smile my niece seems to have inherited from me, "She's brilliant. Now you're screwed."
I hope my mom enjoys her revenge. I know I am.
Interesting day. I took a step back to move forward: I took myself in for a tune-up. Seems I'm in better shape than I'd feared, though not as perfect as I'd hoped. I'm going to try something new and see if it helps. There's so much I want to do, and I can't seem to prod myself into enough movement.
I'm looking into new ideas, and new ways of making my life more of what I want it to be. Small but concrete things. I want to try some fabric painting and see what I wind up with. I want to try some new venues for my corsets. I want to be appreciated for what I do, and if I can't win playing by someone else's rules, by G-d, I'll make up my own damned game.
I unexpectedly got a fairly nice evening out to brighten my day. I stopped by Mom and Dad's house, and it just so happened that they were going out with my sister and brother-in-law and their neighbours for the Thursday night prime rib buffet at the Union League. It was, of course, divine. A small, high-ceilinged, dark wood-panelled dining room, candles in tiny brass torchieres, a fire in the fireplace, personalised tankards for club members, genial waitstaff to see to every whim-- and my 21-month-old niece charming everyone in the place. And ohh, the food. How can you go wrong?
Sarah calls me by name now: she does so with both names, and often. She's at an age to be fickle, and tomorrow it may be someone else, but she couldn't get enough of Aunt "Nissy" today. I'm okay with that. Even better, she handed me her crayons and paper today and grinned at me. I sat on the floor beside her and wrote her name in careful block letters.
"What's that say, then?"
"Sa-sah!" she replied, which is the only way, at present, she can say her own name.
Laughing, I called Mom into the room, and asked Sarah to repeat her bit of prowess, as I'd been so charmed. Mom's jaw hit the floor.
"I, er, take it she's never done that before?" I asked mildly.
I immediately called Susan at work to inform her that her baby, while she's not exactly up to The Washington Post over breakfast, can recognise her name in print.
My sister groaned. "Oh, boy."
"Yup," I smiled with the same wicked smile my niece seems to have inherited from me, "She's brilliant. Now you're screwed."
I hope my mom enjoys her revenge. I know I am.
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no subject
Date: 2004-11-05 11:32 am (UTC)You DO realize that this is the case in every/ any game, right? Make it up as you go along, dance to whatever tune is in YOUR head, and for god's sake, don't forget the clown hat.
I'm glad you had a fairly good day. Your niece sounds like a future Hell On Wheels. :)
no subject
Date: 2004-11-05 12:50 pm (UTC)This same line (if I can't win playing by someone else's rules, by G-d, I'll make up my own damned game) makes me want to buy you a light-up-pink-flamingo of your very own, dear.
Yay for the fun with Sarah: that's so cool! You know it doesn't help anything that she's really cute, too.... *grin*
no subject
Date: 2004-11-05 06:03 pm (UTC)HOW many times have i told you that
The first rule you learn in life HAS to be
If the rules of the game arent to your likeing play outside the rules.
Now that you finally got it you have to TRUELY embrace it!
coffee west wing and life we should and soon
maybe sushi instead of coffee but we'll talk