MOOP!

It's been a long series of _very bad_ brain days, with no end whatsoever in sight. Like, there are individual events I'm excited for, but at this point I'm sorta fucked up enough that I don't think I remember how to be generally functional for the times in between. It's...you know. It's the logical conclusion of over a year of pandemic.

Anyways, today was one of those days in which I realized I'd really _badly_ hit the wall and I attempt to make some positive changes. Or at least, if not proper change, at least try and do a few positive things today? I dunno. I walked a lot, and saw some birds. I took a shower. I actually washed the fucking dishes. Progress is slow but existent. Someday I will do grading again, it's been a while.

One of the biggest problems of the immediate past (which was less of a problem up to like Feb/Mar) is that I've completely abandoned the idea of "sleep", which inevitably is leading to everything else being shittier and harder. Lots and lots of just falling asleep at my laptop at weird angles, which is...not helpful for anyone! Significant amounts of bedtime revenge procrastination, where I decide that eleven thirty at night is an excellent time to open up the SCP project and read a few dozen files (it's not). Sigh. My hope for tonight was absolutely to get to bed on time, I did a social instead, but maybe can reach bed by midnight at least?

The fact that it's been a fairly cold May has not helped. As Rey pointed out, it's getting warm enough during the day that the house-heat isn't running as often, and that's fine...during the day. But then we don't have enough of a cushion, and it honestly feels ludicrous to push the thermostat up as we approach summer. I think I would prefer it if we just had a few more warmer days.

Anywho, I am still alive and to the best of my knowledge have not given anyone Covid, so I'm doing as well as can be expected of anyone. More than that is just extra credit at this point.

~Sor
MOOP!

Tonight I rang Stedman Doubles.

I watched the one real close as a different group was ringing it, and then when they finished leaned over and asked Danielle (who was leading practice), if I could have a go at it with a strong band if there was time. Danielle seemed totally delighted to let me do so (saying her plan was to have me practice the dodging, but this was fine too if I felt ready).

She said I should get a good job sticker after. Josh applauded. Margaret told me specific I did an excellent job and Elaine said I have to add the word "gloriously" to the sentence that starts this entry. I rang Stedman Doubles, for the first time tonight, and I did so gloriously.

I am somewhat frustrated with my brain, because it won't let me just have this. "But I know Stedman really well" it says. "It's the first thing I learned on the app, before Plain Bob even". "I've drawn it dozens of times". "I've rung it in hand more'n just about anything (except maybe PBM)". "We spent like an hour of that Saturday practice two weeks ago doing just the front work". "Elaine was pointing out my dodging partners for me".

My brain is saying all of those as minimizations, as "this isn't really anything special" as "this isn't actually an achievement because x-y-z." My brain is refusing to recognize the fact that what those are are all _steps on the ladder_ and of COURSE they led me to being able to do this tonight and do it well. None of these are minimizations, they're fucking *proof*.

I rang Stedman Doubles tonight, and I rang it gloriously, because I'm very well prepared for Stedman. I have spent a lot of time and quiet brain in the last year and a half practicing this method. I think it's beautiful and have put focus into knowing what it looks like, and learning the path from any number of positions. I've practiced being part of the sound of it on handbells. I've practiced the front work. I'm accepting help with the parts that are hard to see on paper (the pattern of who to dodge with and when) until I can learn them on my own.

If I work really hard on something, I can do it. And the work keeps going and going and sometimes it's easier and a lot of the time it's harder, and I beat my head around the different ways to say and understand and question and explain until it finally clicks. This is a thing I can do --I can practice, I _can_ learn. I do not have to be inherently good at things to be able to do them.

The Saturday where we did nothing but front work was so beautiful to watch, because I really do know the pattern of the slow work like the back of my hand, but it still took again and again and again with the ropes to get them where we wanted and have the handling enough in place. Now I do it ten thousand more times until it's utterly natural. Practice is a laudable goal. I am allowed to start out poorly.

Actually let, me say that last part again: I am allowed to start out poorly. I am allowed to be poorly in the middle. I am allowed to be still learning and to mess up and to need to start over again and again. I am allowed to have trouble counting places and difficulties remembering where to look, who I'm dodging with. And really, forget "allowed", I must do these things or I'll never get there in the first place.

Tonight I rang Stedman Doubles. One glorious plain course (with a beauteous smartass of a conductor saying "stand next please" instead of that's all, so we even came round perfectly into our ending.) I'm proud of myself, and that's allowed --it's been hard work to get here.

One good job sticker for me, please.

~Sor
MOOP!

Original Tags: bestof, tintinnabulation, accomplishments

Heyo! It's about that time again, have some resolution updates:

750words:
85 days. That is beginning to turn into real numbers. I am beginning to actually worry about what variety of stupid I'm gonna do involving Pinewoods. Like, there is a little internet booth at Pinewoods I could upload from, if I wrote the words earlier or later. That would totally work. That would totally not be an incredibly stupid plan. I have lots of free time at Pinewoods to write!

Music:
Sparr bought me the two s00j albums I'd been eyeing, and so now I have four/five¹ of them, and yay. Sometimes I listen to other music too! I can probably stop updating this one, I think it's done.

Biking:
BIKING.
I have a bike again. I have a bike that runs again. It is amazing. Tyrian is the best. Also I got something like three flats in six days, I am not even kidding and that was super bullshit. But I think she's better now.

Candidate Class:
My exams were on Saturday. People keep asking me how I think I did, and I just...I really don't have an idea. I can't let myself have an idea, because I'm already more anxious about these than I've been about anything in the last ten years and thinking in depth about whether I missed important things will make me _actively crazy_. I should know my results in six to eight weeks, or possibly as soon as the end of this week.

There are a lot of combinations marked "failure" in my mind, and only two marked "success"².

Pinewoods:
I am accepted to ESC, Scottish 1, and Scottish 2. I may be running a bug-themed party at ESCape, and I am super excited about that. It'll be really good!

Highland:
Seann Triubhas is only slightly easier to dance than it is to spell. >:|

Being awesome/mental health:
I have been an anxietyball the last week/month. It's very exciting. I am so sorry to anyone who has to deal with me, since anxietyKat seems identical to regularKat except I no longer smile as easily and the words that fall out of my mouth have a tendency to border on the _very_ dark.

But you know, I'm fine. Nothing going on is even a little bit worth killing myself over, and if it's not that bad, it ain't nothing in the long run.

Ambidancetrous:
I have made posts! I have made posts about the exam and posts about dances we wrote! I am hopefully going to make more posts, maybe about writing a grand march!

Making money:
I am the Bananager, I belong to the Bananamines, and also I'm pretty perpetually broke so if you have stuff I can do in the afternoons or evenings in exchange for your dollarbucks, I'm kinda intrigued.

Social:
Well, NEFFA didn't suck. Other than that, it's a real good thing I adore my fellow candidates, because I have seen NO ONE ELSE.

Dentist:
So, my dentist was all like "you need a crown" and I was all like "I KNOW, RIGHT!?"
So now I have a temporary crown and the real one will appear sometime in early June, probably.

***

No progress:
Dante editing
Paper sorting --I have, in fact, made negative progress by taking things out of my filing cabinet
Room
Grad School
Pushups
Dancing --I mean, I've been doing a ton, just not outside of Greater Camberville and also Stow yet.
Stiltsing --I was not allowed to make stilts before taking my exams.
ADHD management --no, and my executive functioning has been completely shot
Morrowind
Social Justice
Inbox 0
Activity vs Passivity online
Tracking media

Whee!

~Sor
MOOP!

1: Susan dG sent me Sirens, I just bought Stolen Season when it came out, and Sparr sent me Tangles and Haphazard as CDs. So I have four. HOWEVER, at Balticon 2012, s00j sold out of Mischief and I managed to unfold my tongue long enough to be all "can I just hand you money right now and then get my friend to email me a zip file is that okay?" and she was like "sure, sounds great and very convenient!" So I have Mischief, legally, as a digital copy. (I will probably buy a physical copy when I get a chance both because I'm a completist and because it's actually my favourite, apparently)

2: Success 1: All five candidates pass their unit 2 and their unit 3. Success 2: All five candidates except me pass their unit 2 and their unit 3. Failure: Any other candidate fails either of their tests, because damnit, this is so important to all of us and yet I'm really the one for whom it matters least, Cambridge _has_ teachers.

So I think I've figured out my New Years Resolution(s), which I have not done in a few years, but I like being able to look back on them later and embarrassedly report in.

I have heard from various sources about the idea of chaining, and how well it seems to work. Basically, on every day you do your Good Thing, you give yourself a big ol' X on the calendar. Then you have a lovely long chain of x's, and the aesthetic of being some kind of badass like that makes you want to continue it. Motivation, ho!

I have done this previously, with 750words, and it really is a wonderfully heartwarming feeling to look at your calendar and have six straight months of being a rad thing without a single off day.

However, I am human, and more importantly, I am kindof a perpetually procrastinatory, usually unmotivated, fantastic fuck-up of a human. So I will be kind to myself. I would like to see if I can hit only eighty percent of this sort of chaining nonsense: twenty-five days a month. That's only about 300 days for the whole year, which I think I can probably do, yes.

I will be attempting four paths, as to make my life more interesting. First, of course, is writing. There is already a perfect website for this, I want to see if I can get back into the habit of a mere 750words per day. Not so many. Half an hour of writing and it makes my brain feel so much softer and nice. Even when it's not productive writing. Maybe especially when it's not productive writing.

The second is the ever-important Unfuck Your Habitat. My Habitat is embarrassingly fucked, basically all the time. In some sort of magical perfect world (hahahaha) if I spend twenty minutes every day working on cleaning things, I will eventually run out of a backlog of stuff to do and have to turn this chain into something else. Or I could turn it into doing more longer term cleaning tasks that no one actually does, like dusting the living room, or cleaning the stove.

Thirdly is circus arts. Not long, but if I spend fifteen minutes a day or so fucking around with juggling or contact juggling or handwalking or hooping, well, maybe I'll actually have some visually performative skills like I've wanted.

And the last chain is very simple. In fact, I am doing it right now: don't play Minesweeper. This is not an indictment against video games in general, or even Minesweeper specifically. This is just a reminder that Minesweeper adds nothing to my life, not even puzzlesolving skills at this point because it's become so rote. I am mildly addicted. Okay, the last few nights, I see the game when I close my eyes, maybe more than mildly addicted. And I don't even enjoy the damn thing! None of that, Mx Sorcy.

So those are my plans. If I am very good, I will get myself a calendar and actually make physical marks on all the days I do a Good Job.

13 is such a lucky number. Let's see if this is the year I can make myself feel like an adult.

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Of course, there is one other resolution, one that is more secret, one that is more small. I could feel it the other night, at the edges of my breakdown.

I want to be functional. I want to ask for what I need, because I deserve to be happy and deserve to be stable. And I have a great number of people who love me very much and agree with me. Who are _willing to help_.

All I have to do is ask. Lord is it the hardest thing. But I can do it. Slow but strong and stubborn, I will be the greatest thing I can.

Because let's face it: I am irrevocably awesome. And anyone who says otherwise can suck an exhaust pipe. <3

~Sor
MOOP!

A bunch of years ago, I had a summer where multiple people admitted to being into me, which was both awesome and more than a bit "what?" But the end result was that I made a comment-screened post on the subject, asking "why?!"

((Sometimes I am unabashed in my need for ego-boosting))

A couple weeks ago, I was having a conversation with a friend in which they mentioned "I have no idea what boys see in you"¹. Because I am the queen of insidiously low self-esteem, my response was the highly rational and very helpful "I don't know either."

It triggered thought though, and so I've spent spare brainwaves from the last few weeks trying to sort out just what it is exactly that makes me That Girl. It remains a very true observation that I am --people, especially boys, like me. I can't help this, nor do I particularly want to, really.

The callous and to my mind logical first thought of "they like me because I put out" is presumably untrue, since as far as I can tell, nothing about my public persona indicates that I do so for strangers, and it's not like I have sex particularly indiscriminately, or really, much at all. Everyone I've shared a bed with over the last four years was a friend first, which means that they liked me *before* we got naked. Furthermore, I have male friends who would probably be quite willing to get sexy with me, but we specifically haven't, and they still find me worth hanging out with. So, whatever it is, it's not the sex thing.

The theory that I've been working on that I feel has the most weight to it is closely related to an essay that was posted on Polyamorous Misanthrope, and brought to my attention by Gabity-Gabe. The essay is about a boy who is extremely well liked by women, and posits that the reason he is so well-liked is because he genuinely enjoys the company of and platonic interaction with women. He doesn't just talk to women in the hopes of pussy, but because of the actual person around it.

Pretty much my whole life, I have had close male friends, often more so than female ones. This is because I really quite like males. I could not tell you what particular quality that leads me to enjoy male company more than female, but there must be some reason that makes it easier for me to make friends with other boys² than with other girls². I really do honestly enjoy the company of males, even when I'm not expecting to sleep with them.

This idea is strengthened by a theory I've had for a good long time now --namely, that someone being attracted to you is a *deeply* attractive trait. So, using that, we get the idea that my enjoying the company of males is something that they enjoy, and makes them more likely to enjoy the company of me.

Going even deeper with the above thought, we reach the idea that I am, for whatever degree of intensity or intimacy, attracted to a noticeable percentage of humanity. I fall just a little bit in love every other time I get on the subway. While I have definite physical types I prefer, none of them matter in the presence of an honest smile. If you're reading these words, I am probably attracted to you, at least a little bit, because you are human and alive and I find that absolutely fascinating. Humanity is beautiful, and each individual uniquely so.³

I've got a few other ideas as to what it is my boys see in me as well (and I haven't even engaged in the highly scientific response of just asking them and seeing if there are any common patterns) but I think that the fact that I really like boys, for who they are, is a pretty good start.

And now I open it up to you guys. What is it that people see in That Person that makes them so bloody attractive? Why do certain people just attract everyone and manage to get all the dates?

And sure, let's be egotistical here. What is it about me specifically that's just so damn attractive? Because I *still* don't see it.

~Sor
MOOP!

1: This made sense in context
2: My mind *insisted* that this wording was correct, and I can't really say I disagree with it.
3: Man, I am such a hippie some days. But it's true!

Brain: Oh, stop stressing about food. It's not like you're going to be here much longer, three or four meals will be plenty.
MoreBrain: Yeah, it's only what...a day and a half? Two days? Fourty eight hours and fifteen minutes until you need to get your room inspected?
Me: .............
Me: I could've lived a happier life without knowing that fact.
Brain: It just sucks to be you, doesn't it?

~Sor
MOOP!

Wrote a hella long, highly whiny, BtW entry in between taking notes during maths class. Knowledge gained (and somewhat expanded on here) is this:

( Read more... )

Yep. 'sall the emo you get for now.

~Sor
MOOP!

*I think it's second. I wrote out several of the rules, in an arbitrary numbering sense a couple days ago. The only ones I remember are the First Rule (Avoid Stupidity) and the Fourth Rule (Boys are the stupidest thing to fight over, so are girls) (This rule is actually starting to fall out of vogue, now that I'm past high school.) I'm pretty sure the eighth rule was that "If this is your first night at fight club, you have to fight."

"You are the most important person in your life" would be the first rule if Avoid Stupidity wasn't so strongly a part of my upbringing. (Although, if it's going by what was the first rule earliest, the first rule really ought to be "Do not touch mommy's desk")