kitanzi: (eyebrow lift - by pkastacy)
I got new glasses over the weekend, and as I predicted, not a single person here at work has noticed. :)

It seems like a drastic change to me, but I had the other pair for... I dunno how long. I'm pretty sure I had the frames (with a change of lenses at least once) for over a decade. My prescription turns out not to have changed much in the past six plus years, but I have. The new frames suit me much better now, but damn they're taking a bit of getting used to!

Edit:

Old glasses: here

New glasses: here
kitanzi: (suit in a hampster wheel - by unknown)
Really, I should take time to post about the good stuff in my life lately, and there's been plenty. Some I have, like the wedding, and some I haven't, like the Aphelion microcon and our second trip to the ren faire.

Right now, though, I'm stuck with endless, endless printing, copy, and coallation for this idiot project here at work. Naturally, my mind isn't very engaged in this and tends to drift. For some reason, today it's insisting on dwelling on every stupid or painful thing I've ever done, none of it to any useful purpose.

So, if you have any good memories of me or anything cheerful to tell me about in your life, or anything at all that makes you smile - share?
kitanzi: (Default)
I am currently waiting for the rain to start so I can go run around in it like a mad thing. I used to do that a lot, it used to be fun. I currently look like the losing end of an epic battle with a horde of mad dust bunnies (maybe rabid, definitely pissed off) because I have been packing books. And more books. And moving around the boxes of books already packed.

We are not moving until the end of July. I started out justifying this as the fact that however early you start packing, it's never done in time, so I should really at least pack up the books. I think it's mutated into some sort of coping strategy to deal with months of transition betwee "we live here" and "we live there", when I don't even know yet where there is. (I don't do transitions and change and in between stages very well.) Whatever the reason, we have a wall of boxes of books in the bedroom now which will certainly surprise the cleaning service tomorrow, and many clots of grey dust drifting and sticking and drifting some more. I think some running around in the rain like a ten year old sounds like a really good idea, if only the rain will break.

(Remember, this is Georgia. I would probably not be planning this for the beginning of April if I were still in NH, but here it's actually very reasonable!)
kitanzi: (Default)
I like to read in the break room while I’m eating lunch. It’s just my way of leaving the building for an hour, breaking up the day and making the time my own. Unfortunately, this seems to be a red flag for everyone and his monkey to ask what I’m reading, how many books a week I read, how fast do I read, what I like to read, and everything related that they can think of. This generally irritates me, but I have found two or three people here that I’m happy to have comment, because they actually like to read too, so it’s more of a conversation than “What’s that, ANOTHER new book?” One of them, interestingly enough, is the woman who does the cleaning. English clearly isn’t her first language, though I can’t tell what is – possibly Japanese. Anyhow, she asked me for a recommendation of a good mystery for her to read – “Something not too hard!” My first thought was Agatha Christie, but I don’t have any on hand, so today I brought in the first of Dorothy Gilman’s Mrs. Polifax books. I don’t know that it’s precisely a mystery, but I think she’ll like it, and I think it’s probably a good reading level for her.

I just went and found her changing out a trash bag in the break room, and gave it to her, and she lit up. She wanted to make sure I knew she wouldn’t be able to read it quickly, which is hardly a problem, but with all her thanks you’d think I’d given her a winning lottery ticket, not a loaned paperback. I love doing book swaps, because I love finding new books and passing on the good ones to other people. I think this is probably the most effusive thanks anyone’s ever given to me for it, but damn, I guess that made her day. I know it made mine.

Whooosh!

Jan. 3rd, 2007 09:37 am
kitanzi: (Default)
Y'know, that's why I'm a crappy beta reader. I can proof read for spelling and grammar, but the more I like the story, the less I'll see its faults otherwise. If I really like a story, I'll fall into it - if it sucks me in, you can hear the whooosh sound, and I'm gone. I do this with TV too, or really any story in any medium. ACat can vouch, when it's something I really like I admit that it's so good I don't even want to see the flaws because that would pull me back out of it. It's a damn shame, in a way, because I like reading and I like helping friends, but now that I think of it, this is likely why I'm not much use for this particular thing. Still, if you *want* someone who will spot spelling and grammar pretty well... lemme know!

(I can also be slow to climb all the way back out. Five or six episodes of Dexter back to back last night while ACat was out gaming was probably ill advised. My life has a voiceover track this morning. Damn but that show improves as it goes along - addictive.)
kitanzi: (Default)
So this marks another year off, and there are things I'm glad for in the old one, and things I hope will be different in the new one.

I am glad I'm alive, that I'm fundamentally healthy, that I have people to care about who care about me. I'm glad that each year I learn and grow a little bit more. I am glad that I'm not the same person at 37 that I was at 17, and I'm looking forward to finding out who I am when I'm 57.

I want to learn to do more and think less, to recognize when I'm overanalyzing things and distancing myself from people, and to remember why that's a bad thing. At the same time, I want to recognize my own buttons and issues better, and manage them better myself, rather than apologizing for them after the fact. I want to do five things I've never done before - no, I don't know what yet - even if I don't think I'll like them. I want to do the least harm and the most good that I can - but I want to stop fretting over the doing harm, and take more joy in the doing good.

I want to look at 2007 a year from now, and say it was a year I did not waste, a year I'm glad I lived.

And I want all of you to be able to say the same thing, whatever that takes for you. Happy New Year.
kitanzi: (Default)
I have no idea why I feel like I haven't slept in two days. I did sleep last night, though not much the night before, but I'm chugging tea and walking into walls and dropping crap. Usually sleep deprivation makes me cranky and bitchy, but by some odd mental alchemy today I'm goofy and laughing at myself. No idea why, and too tired to try and figure it out. I hope it lasts. I hope I can do it again next time.
I hope I can walk THROUGH the door with the hot tea next time...
Anyone have good ideas for handling exhaustion, other than massive amounts of caffine or getting *gasp* some sleep?
kitanzi: (A girl needs a knife - Atalantapendrag)
Yep, I voted - I got an absentee ballot and sent it in weeks ago.
Good fucking thing, too, because frankly the number of people on my friends list who are haranguing everyone to get out and vote is giving me a strong contrary urge not to.
Say you voted - say you think voting is a good thing, it is. It's vital, and that's exactly why I got an absentee ballot and made sure to get mine in, but enough already on the strident shove-it-down-your-throat approach. I really doubt I'm the only contrary person around right now resisting the urge to do just the opposite of what I think is reasonable and sane simply because I'm feeling nagged half to death.
kitanzi: (firefly ain't that somethin - by niceven)
I've found myself singing The Girl That's Never Been under my breath today at work... or perhaps a bit over it, judging from the looks I got in the cafeteria while assembling my salad. Hell with it, exposure to good music will broaden their horizons. It could have been a lot worse - it could have been, say, Cadhla's charming little ditty about the Black Death. Anyhow, I do have a seed of an idea for a filk as a result, we'll see what comes of that. More disconcerting is the way I seem to see people from the con here at work every time I turn the corner. I swear I saw Trace's doppleganger in a meeting room, and Taunya from Puzzlebox (am I spelling that right?) walking away from me down a corridor. It's rather odd and making me quite wistful. Why *can't* we have a con every day?

EDIT: and a few minutes later, my brain processed a black and tan scarf draped over the edge of a cubicle as Spot the snake. I think I need more sleep. Or maybe just more con, yeah, that's the ticket.

Boundaries

Sep. 25th, 2006 08:34 pm
kitanzi: (curiosity killed the cat - by btfl_decad)
I had an interesting discussion with a friend earlier today about the boundaries between public and private, and the non-obvious line where venting and asking friends for help and support shades into talking about someone else's business, perhaps even more so online. When does your need for support run into someone else's wish for privacy? I've had this come up in my life often enough that I've put a lot of thought into it, but I thought this would also be a good place to ask other people's experiences - please feel free to add anything you like in comments.

[Poll #830069]
kitanzi: (house smirk - by hollywdbnd)
Fridays before long weekends shortcircut my brain and fry my concentration, but it really is rather pleasant.

One symptom (and cause!) is ever since before I woke up, I've had a thread of melody winding through my head assuring me that Sarah Tapper loves Harry Marshall, and that's a lie and that's a fact. [livejournal.com profile] autographedcat and I just got our copy of the live CD [livejournal.com profile] cadhla just got out with her fanfuckingtastic performance at OVFF in 2005! I could selfishly wish it was a DVD so we'd have the full show, complete with schtick and costume changes and really outrageous vamping, but it's already so addicting, catchy, mindwarping and outright gorgeous that I just can't get this out of my head.

Not that I really want to... but now my shortcircuited brain is trying to somehow intertwine Sycamore Tree (the above mentioned song) with Great Big Sea's Ordinary Day, and assure me that Sarah Tapper loves Harry Marshall, and at the end of the day you just have to say it's alright.

Anyone out there can tell me where my model brain's reset button is? This is quite entertaining, but I'm not getting aaaaany work done!

EDIT: ACat took it and ran, and has posted his actual filk of Sycamore Tree to the tune of Ordinary Day - Ordinary Tree, of course. Squeeeeee! (AND, extra bonus, Cadhla loves it! DOUBLE squee!)
kitanzi: (Default)
Anyone who wishes to ask me about my perspective and understanding of recent changes and developments in my relationships is welcome to.

Anyone who believes they know that perspective without asking is most likely mistaken.

(Apologies for being vague. If you don't know what I'm talking about, you are also welcome to ask but you probably will be confused and/or bored to tears by the answer.)
kitanzi: (textual proctology - by anriko)
Not link sausage so much as Kitanzi gumbo, but but if you really want to know... )
kitanzi: (blues -  by kitanzi)
No, I'm not dead. No, ACat and I are fine. Yes, the shoulder is slowly getting better - thanks.

However, I will not be posting in this journal for the forseeable future. The things that are currently eating my brain are going to take a lot of working out on my end, and talking directly to the people involved, and I see no good or help in spreading them out in public during the process.

Please assume I had/will have a great Gafilk, lovely to see you all again, sorry I won't be making it to any other cons until OVFF, still temping, still employed, still married.

Still working on stuff.

In brief

Dec. 23rd, 2005 09:43 am
kitanzi: (calvin yawn - by foofee25)
I had my first post surgery physical therapy last night. The good news is things are basically healing. The bad news is apparently they are doing so in spite of me.

I had post surgery instructions for the first 48-72 hours, but was apparently unclear on what I should be doing after. I (being a stubborn and impatient type, fancy that) have been pretty much pushing myself as I can tell I'm getting better. In fact, I was quite pleased with my progress. Well, the therapist apparently isn't. I should have been cautious where I was impatient, and resting where I was stretching, and generally trying to make the muscles relax more than they are rather than testing my limits. Her description was that the muscles were extremely guarded, and I didn't have nearly the range of motion she apparently expected. Dammit.

So ACat is back on pretty much the full range of housework, and I'm taking advantage of the 4 day weekend I have (a company that gives Fri AND Mon off for Xmas on Sun??) and hopefully I'll be doing better soon.

I have to admit, it's immensely less painful this way, but somehow I seem to have been raised with the idea that coping with pain is more admirable than whining about it - I am able to see past that for other people, but it's hard to get around it for myself. Having doctor's orders to rest it and avoid the pain somehow doesn't make it feel any less like malingering. I know, I'm much, much better. I want to be well, though. The really depressing part is the thought that I've sabotagued myself.

(Another disconcerting bit - I've been fairly regularly waking up between one and two, in enough pain to want a Percocet pill. No pain last night following PT and the new instructions (and a session of electrostimulus, which is the WEIRDEST damn thing I've ever felt but effective for pain relief like whoa!), but I still woke up about one thirty, very twitchy and tense, unable to sleep and REALLY wanting to go take a pill. I don't like this, I don't like this at all. Fortunately, I don't work today, so I just stayed up until I could go back to sleep without one. My goal today is no painkillers stronger than ibruprophen. So far, not even that - I am warily pleased.)

Edit: Note this doesn't mean I'm going to try and be stupid and stubborn in a different direction and NOT take painkillers when there IS pain. I just don't like the feeling that I have a habit of taking them that's there even when the pain goes away.
kitanzi: (calvin dance - by foofee25)
For I am, as of earlier this afternoon, unstitched and sling-free, having been graced with some very cool photos of the inside of my shoulder. (Unfortunately, I didn't ask for copies. I should have - what a cool LJ icon.) So I am overjoyed, on the loose and ready to hug unsuspecting victims in the name of physical therapy! BEWARE!
kitanzi: (Glee! - by Kataclysmic)
the tube for the pain ball out of my shoulder, dressings off (replaced by three Cat In The Hat bandaids!), sling on the outside of the shirt, and a really truly SHOWER so the whole mess stops itching!

I may still be sleeping on the order of 12+ hours a day and loopy as a dingbat, but I am CLEAN and I am ecstatic!
kitanzi: (Default)
I'm kind of curious, and this seems a reasonable place to ask. I know a lot of people who talk about chosen family (or clan, or whatever), either in addition to or instead of the more traditional biological family. Sometimes it's in relation to poly, but not necessarily by any means.

If you describe yourself as having chosen family, how do you choose that family? What defines, for you, family as opposed to friends? Is the boundary fluid? Do you ever have people who are friends eventually come to feel like family, or do you drift away from people and eventually count them as friends instead? Are family relationships necessarily more intimate? Are you more likely to try and build a relationship with someone based on the fact that they are involved with someone you consider family, or a friend, or does that make any difference at all? I've recently seen it described as a distinction that's easier for someone from a close knit, loving family to make than someone who wasn't, based on what it feels like - does this describe what most of you have observed? Does it make a difference to you if someone you consider family doesn't consider you so, doesn't choose you back?

It's a far more complicated concept than the standard biological family where the relationship is clearly defined - you are born with a standard set of relations, and expected to evolve emotional attachments to match. My own family is definitely not close, and I do tend to feel that I have people who are chosen family, but recent conversations and observations have made me think about it a little more. Somewhat like poly, it's not a simple thing, and means many things to many people. It's also prone to assumptions people may not even realize they're making, or at least so I find, so I'm curious what other people may come up with if I get you all thinking about it too!
kitanzi: (Default)
It's a very short work week, only three days long, and you just know no one's getting much done if they can help it. Well, a couple of my coworkers were trading amusing stories from childhood, and I stopped to listen when one mentioned that she was/is hyperactive. It caught my attention, since my ex F's kids were all diagnosed ADHD or ADD long before I ever met any of them. It was an interesting conversation, with her stories from the kid's perspective and mine from the (stepish) parent's perspective. We agreed that the condition tended to go along with high intelligence, and was often overdiagnosed but still a genuine problem. Then she casually mentioned she was pretty sure that I was ADD or ADHD as well, and the other coworker nodded vigorously, both of them listing what made them think so.

It's something I've considered before. I do have some of the indicators, but then I have some indicators for other things as well, and in my opinion, in *my* case, it doesn't matter. Sure, I twitch a lot and I get bored easily, am easily frustrated, and I multitask like hell, etc etc etc. In the end, though, these are things that I cope pretty well with and mostly turn to my own good advantage, so I'm not concerned with whether a diagnosis fits me, because I'm not looking to be treated for it, if it even is so.

It was an interesting conversation, not in the least because it highlighted to me how not-new an idea this is to me, and how little I'm actualy concerned about it. From what I gather, there's a spectrum of behavior which is part of what makes diagnosis of ADD and ADHD difficult *as a condition*. I'm curious (in a hopefully flame resistant fashion) what experiences you all have had with this, in whatever context? Please do keep in mind that I'm not even vaguely interested in arguing whether ADD and ADHD exist, valid and invalid courses of treatment in general, possible abuses of the diagnosis, or any of the hot trigger issues that abound with this. I just find this kind of interesting, especially since two rather casual acquaintances apparently think they see this in me as well.
kitanzi: (Default)
Not even blues, just blahs. One of those days where the day is grey and soggy, the people are confusing and prickly and incomprehensible (including yourself), and everything you do or think or say seems to be just... off.

One of those days when you think you'd rather crawl back under the covers and pretend the world's not there, but you know you'd be pretty bored pretty quick, hiding from the whole world under there. So you may as well just stay where you are and stare out the window and get through the Monday.

December 2013

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