Some angst and some good stuff

I broke the tip off a drill bit while I put a vertical herb garden together this evening.  It's pretty ugly: fifteen sawed off soda bottles and milk containers screwed to a ratty shipping pallet.  But once I put soil and seeds in the bottles and find a way to prop it up but keep it from tipping forward, it should look halfway decent.  I have some herbs sprouting in other pots as well, the nasturtium is growing, and I haven't killed any of Mom's three flowering plants on the front porch, so my little garden is coming along nicely.


Didn't get in a walk today, though I did enough chores that I can say I didn't sit in front of the computer all day.

Though I did tweet all day.  Yes, I'm almost forty, but I don't have much of a life, so when the call to arms came across Tumblr last week, I responded.  Martin Freeman's Bilbo Baggins was up for an MTV movie award as Best Hero, and he was in last place.  Kristin Stewart's Snow White was the initial frontrunner.  Tolkien's fandom rallied the troops, and we pushed Bilbo past Batman, Catwoman, Hulk, and Iron Man within hours.  Bilbo finished a few hours ago with 1.6 million votes (over 104,000 votes ahead of Snow White).  Put that in your bag of Old Toby and smoke it!

However, the award was taken off the roster for an actual presentation, and I read that MTV didn't bother contacting Martin Freeman, because they thought the Twitards would win in the end.  He isn't on the winners list on their website, either.  Well, I've done all I can.

I did go to a hafla last night, so I wasn't a hermit all weekend.  PC is a friend I met through a friend I made via fanfiction.  I've known PC for almost four years, and there aren't many people I've encountered who are sweeter or more giving.  She lives on the other side of the hill from my brother's family, so it's a bit of a drive for me to visit her, but she's definitely worth the effort.  She sometimes belly dances at a studio on the other side of town.  My teacher stopped teaching last year, so I'm looking for another tribe, but I'd rather stick to straight American Tribal Style than go with something so off the beaten path that what I learned wouldn't transfer to another group.  There's a studio a few miles north of work, so I'm getting information on that.  I miss dancing!

I need to reactivate my Facebook page, tell everyone who matters where to find me if they don't know already, and then deactivate it for good this time.  Every time I read a news article online about FB, it's a rant about the information they're yanking from my browser or computer and sharing with other companies so they can make money, most of the time without my permission or knowledge.  Bite me, Facebook.

Watching The A-Team (the 2010 film, not a TV episode) while I get ready for the week ahead.  I forgot how much fun the first twenty minutes of that movie is.  The rest is good, too, but the intro is brilliant.

Every day, I thank God that Max asked me out and that he kept asking me out for two and a half years.  And every day, I even more fervently thank God that I had the guts to dump him.  It should have been several months earlier, but I'm as perceptive as a rock when it comes to non-verbal stuff.  (I score so low on empathy tests that I fall in the same range that people with Asperger's fall into.)  By the end, I felt like I was being taken advantage of, so dumping him was very easy.  I miss what I hoped he'd bring to my life, and I miss being hopeful about finding someone to share my life with, but I don't miss Max specifically.  But he took me to the Mysterium and was the catalyst for some good things I've kept in my life after I let him go, so it all evens out in the end.

It's just as well.  I have so much anger, depression, and other weird stuff going on in my funny little brain that I wouldn't want to inflict all that on someone I love.  I still think finding someone to love would be a good thing for me, but I'm so crazy that I'd rather save him the horror that living with me would be.

One of the British news outlets has footage from Hugh Laurie's gig at the Queen Mary last month, but I can't see it here in America.  Gits.  I'm still waiting for some kind soul to grab it and upload it to YouTube, even though I'm vain enough to be terrified that my huge self and dopey grin will be visible at some point.

Walking and working out really help with my anxiety and depression.  I can feel myself slipping into a valley today and tonight -- I've been through the ups and downs enough to recognize what going in feels like -- so I need to get my butt in gear in the morning and go to Curves before work.  I keep myself out of the worst lows this way.  (I'm not bipolar, just sad and tired all the time.  It's just that there are times I'm more sad and tired.)

Bought a dress that looks like what I imagine an acid trip would be like.  It's the ugliest thing on the hanger, but I think it looks smashing on me.  Go figure.  It could be taken in a little at the waist, but I'm waiting for a second opinion to confirm that it's a good dress for me before I alter it.

Back to it.  There's a load of towels and socks I still haven't put away, and I saw Bubba the Hutt eyeing it speculatively.  I probably should fix something for lunch tomorrow, too.  Good night!