March 27th, 2008

good mris pic

Little hand's on E.

So our news of the moment is that markgritter is changing jobs. He'll be working for NVidia, telecommuting but visiting the Bay Area from time to time. It really seems like the right thing for him, and we're glad.

(Also glad to have one less thing left uncertain around here.)

On Saturday at the Minicon LJ party, cakmpls was sympathizing with my PT woes, and she used a word that I hadn't been getting much. It was a very important word. That word was boring. And was she ever right. Boring, boring, BORING. DONE NOW. Something else's turn. Blah blah blah vertigo vertigo dull dull DULL. "What've you been up to lately, mrissa?" "Oh, staring at the letter E on a Post-It note while I move my head in various ways." "How...nice for you." "Yah, it's a dream come true." (And people always want to reassure me that it's my journal and I can write about what I want. It is not primarily your boredom with this that concerns me, folks.) We're seeing progress, though. We're seeing functional progress, and feeling progress will follow that, we're pretty sure. I'm allowed to stand in the corner again. (Dream. Come. True.)

And if I have to make it through this short story in paragraph-long sessions with breaks to let my ears settle, dammit, that is what I will do. Because enough. Enough of this. I'm tired, but I'm also tired of this.

Also I've ordered some things from the library. Comfort rereads have been the right thing, and they may continue to be the right thing, but I'm going to intersperse them with new stuff. New-to-me stuff, at least; I don't think Raymond Chandler counts as new to very many people.

You know that feeling you get when you've had the flu for several days, and you still have the flu and are nothing like well, but you're so sick of having the flu that you do things like hauling the laundry basket around totally unnecessarily because you are just so tired of having the flu? And then you have to go have some tea and a lie-down because you still have the flu, dummy!? I feel like I'm in that stage, and like it's going to last me weeks. I've had decluttering urges since almost the beginning of this PT stuff, and I'm not really steady enough to sort through the living room closet and reorganize that, or to go down to the basement to repack one of the boxes into something better organized and more proof against damp. So I am stifling the decluttering urges in one sense, and in another I'm trying to redirect them to things I can do without breaking anything.

good mris pic

Sweet, sweet angst.

I've been generally trying to keep my reading material towards the low-angst and familiar. Ditto with my DVD viewing material. Now is not the time for dark and depressing.


Except I was a teenager in the '90s. All of my high school years and all of my college years began with 199-. (All of my junior high years, too. Huh. Busy decade.) And so I began thinking that musically, maybe the warm and fuzzy and cuddly thing was...oh, say...Alice in Chains. Nirvana's Unplugged Album. Maybe some early Tori Amos. Ooh, and is that Alanis Morisette I spy there? Haaayayyayayyoow appropriate.

"'Country Death Song' is what this playlist is all about!" I said to timprov. "I thought you didn't like 'Country Death Song,'" he said. "I hate 'Country Death Song'!" I said happily.

So now I have the first playlist I've ever made with no member of the Guthrie family on it. It is lacking in both Simon and Garfunkel. Dar Williams? No. Ella Fitzgerald? No. Buddy Holly? No. So many lovely things, not on this playlist. Boiled in Lead makes it in on a technicality, since I had a single cherished album of theirs ("Old Lead," if you're curious) when I was in high school. And I couldn't resist a few Mountain Goats songs, because nothing says, "I'm not sure the songwriter made it home from the recording session without stopping off to slit a few wrists, some of them his own," like John Darnielle. He has the grunge nature.

I'm not sure how long this is going to be the thing. Next week it may be singer-songwriters of the early 1970s, folk songs against war, or some other segment of my personal musical history. But at the moment, I have a playlist that includes things I haven't heard or wanted to hear in years, and it's making me grin.