So... Quadruple bypass. No really. That's a fucking lot.
Other than that things are alright. The boy has moved, strangely enough, to fucking eastern Washington. I visited him at the beginning of last week an for a littleish town, it's nice. They have lots of green places with things that grow and turtles.
And I even found a natural foods store! He wants me to move there with him.... That's all I have to say. I don't really know.
I've been tangoing a lot more. I missed the big dance last night because I went to a friend's house-warming party, which was very nice. But I would like to be doing more tango, is all. I'm taking today to sew some pretty skirts for tango. We'll see how that works out. Should be interesting if nothing else. I'm just making up patterns in my head and hoping that they turn out ok. I'll definitely post some pictures at the end of the day. The thing is, I need to have clasps of some sort, so I have to wait until noon to go to the Mill End Store before I can really start to sew. That's ok. My machine is at a friend's house and he's probably not awake anyway.
The Boy spent a month telling me that he'd made a huge mistake about the way he structured his life during the thesis process for the last year and that he didn't want to do it ever again: let a project take the place of people he cared about. However... he seems to be doing it again. Granted, he's working on a campaign, which is a lot of work. And his job description right now is basically to know everything, which he loves and is well suited for, but which is ridiculously time consuming. Read: 15 hour days, 6 or 7 days a week. Although I can appreciate the work, both the magnitude of the project and the incredible work itself (he's trying to sell liberalism to eastern Washington, which will not be easy), it does make one think, does it not? What the hell am I doing, kind of thought.
So we'll see. He called this morning. I hadn't heard from him in a few days. And I'm more sensitive right now because of the fucking god-aweful weather.
Other than that things are alright. The boy has moved, strangely enough, to fucking eastern Washington. I visited him at the beginning of last week an for a littleish town, it's nice. They have lots of green places with things that grow and turtles.
And I even found a natural foods store! He wants me to move there with him.... That's all I have to say. I don't really know.
I've been tangoing a lot more. I missed the big dance last night because I went to a friend's house-warming party, which was very nice. But I would like to be doing more tango, is all. I'm taking today to sew some pretty skirts for tango. We'll see how that works out. Should be interesting if nothing else. I'm just making up patterns in my head and hoping that they turn out ok. I'll definitely post some pictures at the end of the day. The thing is, I need to have clasps of some sort, so I have to wait until noon to go to the Mill End Store before I can really start to sew. That's ok. My machine is at a friend's house and he's probably not awake anyway.
The Boy spent a month telling me that he'd made a huge mistake about the way he structured his life during the thesis process for the last year and that he didn't want to do it ever again: let a project take the place of people he cared about. However... he seems to be doing it again. Granted, he's working on a campaign, which is a lot of work. And his job description right now is basically to know everything, which he loves and is well suited for, but which is ridiculously time consuming. Read: 15 hour days, 6 or 7 days a week. Although I can appreciate the work, both the magnitude of the project and the incredible work itself (he's trying to sell liberalism to eastern Washington, which will not be easy), it does make one think, does it not? What the hell am I doing, kind of thought.
So we'll see. He called this morning. I hadn't heard from him in a few days. And I'm more sensitive right now because of the fucking god-aweful weather.
on my way to work so cannot chat much. Catch you later this afternoon.