I am tired.
Great success with the 90s outfit — apparently I have learned to sew, because the dress — a black short dress with flowers all over it — actually looks like something a person could just wear. Better than costume grade.
The red and gold outfit — that was today — was amazing. We found shiny red and gold material and M made a sort of halter top out of the gold and I sewed a skirt out of the red and together they were really something, especially with red sneakers, red legwarmers and red and gold shiny mardi gras beads. Blinding, almost.
But now I’m tired and I want to go to sleep . . .
In further news, and I feel sort of, mmmm, well, not admirable, even sharing it, but M took those horrible college tests a few weeks ago and got the amazing magical number on one of them. N got one answer away from the magical number on the math one and now M actually got the magical number on the reading portion. This was completely unexpected since she isn’t exactly a stellar test taker. What I immediately thought was that her college choices might change a bit. Or not, but it makes it all seem a bit easier. Then I thought, and here’s the part that’s really not admirable, “Aha! my kids must be pretty smart after all!” And I felt redeemed that poor timid dyslexic M actually got this magic number — which I never even got, and I’m actually a good test taker. But I also felt redeemed in that there are all these nutty people who are desperate to get their kids in here or there, desperately going so far as to start magazines for their children to insure that they will get into this special college blah blah blah that the parent wants, and not that I am not desperate myself in my own special way, but I really do think for me it’s been about what would be good for M, and where would she feel happiest, and look! She got the magic number! She must be smart after all.
See, not really admirable. (But she got the magic number!)
I believe I have beaten back several wild things, but the problem is I’m in the middle of the woods and just because they aren’t at this minute clawing at me does not mean that they aren’t lurking in the blackberry bramble waiting to leap out and bite me.
Huh. How poetic.
Here’s a good thing, though. I cleaned out my closet and it is now 60% easier to get dressed in the morning. I also discovered an old blue cotton sweater that seems to go with an old black skirt with blue flowers, a new and unopened package of black tights, and, up in the attic this weekend looking for backpacks to go with Spirit Week attire, a pair of black shoes I’d forgotten about since the move and which are surprisingly comfortable and not worn out.
So that’s good.
Once I get my dresser cleaned out, I anticipate an 80% rate of easier dressing decisions. To achieve anything higher I think I have to lose weight, and the difficulty of that may outweigh any gains on the easier dressing front.
I believe I have filled out the Russian visa, which meant figuring out when we’re leaving Russia, but that still leaves many difficult decisions about when we leave Tallinn, Helsinki and Stockholm, not to mention possibly Riga. I did get my picture taken, though, and although it took about 10 minutes, that is a huge accomplishment.
Everything’s like that — M has written about half of three essays. Lawn is ordered but not in.
I guess I should just learn to be okay with being in the middle of things. It’s the fact that these things have deadlines, though, which makes that difficult.
Anyway. Someday I will make it to the end of the woods. One way or another, anyway.
Well, we’ve got big plans around here.
M and I are heading off again on a super secret college visiting trip — please cross your fingers. We’re going two weeks from today.
In the meantime, application essays have to be written, but even before that costumes have to be made and procured for spirit week. What a
giant pain in the ass lot of fun!
Work is exploding with goodness, and the organization I volunteer for is exploding with important email conversations. I think there’s more going on, too, but I can’t even remember it.
Oh. Russia. and the lawn — we’ve got to get the lawn in.
I think if we can just get the damn lawn in I’ll feel a lot better. The lawn man is spraying some organic something or other on it today. At this point, I say just use roundup and be done with it.
I know, I shock myself.
I have to run, because I have two appointments this afternoon, which is ridiculous.
The work party, did I tell you about the work party? It actually went well and was fun. You never know how these things will go. I’m wondering if we can isolate the germ of success and then replicate it.
I’m thinking it’s that we ordered the food and did not cook ourselves. Which made it less stressful and thus, more fun.
Anyway. Got to go.
This is a small painting that M is selling to raise money for Amur leopard preservation. I like it.
But that’s not why I’m here.
I’ve got a stew in the oven and it’s not even dark outside.
Jim is sleeping on a chair next to me.
We’re having a silly party at work tomorrow and I think I’m going to buy a cake with a skull on it from the bakery. That will be fun.
But mostly I am just peeved at things. I guess:
- It’s getting down to the wire for M, and she’s getting worried and I’m getting worried — mostly about her getting worried. I’m worried that she’s going to work herself into that state where you can’t do anything. That would be bad, so I’m hoping it’s not happening.
- A group I volunteer for has gotten all difficult this year, so there are emails flying and I can’t help getting sucked in. Get sucked in or get left behind. Perhaps I should be choosing left behind . . .
- Work. It’s just depressing. It really seems like our enterprise is being dismantled. I sort of feel like I work at GM, actually, and no one wants to buy our cars anymore. And then emails fly there, too. I think there is nothing worse than trying to compose the tactful email explaining something. You don’t think the recipient is an idiot, but you are worried that they will think that you think that, so you carefully try to work things in the least offensive way possible which I’m pretty sure sounds like an instruction manual for an idiot. Yuck.
- And I really am worried about M.
I’m sure I will feel better in a season or two.
I had breakfast with a friend the other day and she is moving to Vermont for a year and I just can’t stand it. She was describing to me the beautiful public schools they have, and how nice it is in the fall when it gets crisp. She said, “This is hurting you, isn’t it?” It was, in fact.
Okay. That’s it.
I’m back to using N’s pictures, since they’re so much more interesting than mine are. (Isn’t that lovely?)
I just had lunch with a woman whose daughter is also at LUPS. We both complained bitterly and now it’s all out of my system so I don’t need to bore anyone else.
[But it really is amazing! After 6 years I am still astounded!]
N says her housemother goes out to her dacha every now and then and comes back with fruit which she makes into jam or apple pirogi. N can’t go with her, though, because it’s an hour or so away and she goes when N is at school.
I’m getting excited about seeing her.
Also, I made tremendous strides in my closet. Life is a lot better when you can actually open both closet doors and fit your winter clothes in your dresser.
Okay — got to go.