Mish Mish…

A few various things before the actual entry

  • Congratulations to two of my best friends in the world. Stacy and Jo-Anne welcomed their new son into the world yesterday, August 17th at 2:15 in the afternoon. Sammy weighed in at 6 lbs 15 oz and 20.5 inches long. He’s a little tow haired boy.
  • My face is getting better. I remarked on TUS the other day that my face had a red, swollen, itchy patch from my left ear, over my nose and down the right side of my face. It seems I was bitten by a spider (in my ear of all places) and was having a reaction to that. I’m feeling much better, my temperature is down, and the red is gone.
  • I’m also feeling better from my cold. I’ll be coughing for weeks but, I won’t infect anyone, now. It’s the price of having little kids around, they are germ factories who pass them to me.

This has been an odd week. Tre’s off at his Grandmother’s and Kyrsie has been at preschool so, I’ve been completely devoid of children. Which means I haven’t done a damn thing other than goof off online and sleep.

I’ve slept more hours this week than I have in months. It has been glorious even if the hours that I have slept have been when the rest of the world is awake. Don’t get me wrong, I miss Tre. I miss him so much that I have a picture of him on my desktop from his birthday party.

My sweet little nephew turned 1 last Saturday. We had a houseful of people celebrating his birthday. Of course, he had no clue of what was going on. He just ran around giggling and being his cute little self. His Dad opened up his first present and Tre was happy with that. A play phone that made noises. He didn’t care about the whole gigantic pile of stuff from everyone else, he just wanted his phone.

The cake? Well, he got a mouthful of frosting and lost interest since he doesn’t actually like frosting. He’ll eat the cake part but, he’ll drool frosting out of his mouth. That’s another way he is just like his Dad. My brother, Richie, doesn’t eat most sweets. He doesn’t like cake, doesn’t eat candy, doesn’t even like most ice cream. For his birthday he has always gotten things like birthday cinnamon rolls or cookies.

And, now his son is just as big a weirdo as him. I mean who doesn’t like chocolate?

Okay, back to my week. I’m in the middle of washing a massive load of clothes. I realized if I didn’t wash clothes today I was going to end up naked at JournalCon. While, Tony might appreciate that, I don’t think anyone else would. I can’t believe I left it this long.

I had two overflowing bushels plus the mesh hamper bag we have was filled to the brim. After all of that was taken out, Tony found another half a bushel of dirty clothes. As I was sorting them the piles (blacks, whites, colors, towels, underwear) grew and grew and grew. The pile of whites, alone was as high as my hip. Now, I’m not tall but, damn. That’s a huge stack of clothes.

And, that was one pile. All of the other ones were about the same size, except for the towels, those are in two seperate, tall as hell, piles. Right now, I’m on load number 4 in the washer, 3 in the drier and the kitchen floor still looks like a warzone.

I don’t know why I always put off doing laundry as I actually like washing clothes. I love the way they smell and feel when the first come out of the drier. The only part I don’t like is folding them and putting them away. This time, I’m folding and putting some of them directly into suitcases. Since we’re going away this weekend, I figured it would be easier to do it that way.

Except, I can’t decide what to take. I know what the weather is going to be like (90s Friday, 80s Saturday, 70s Sunday) I just can’t decide what I should wear. Do I go with my normal mode of clothing (capris and t-shirts or dresses) or dress like everyone else. Well, actually I don’t own blue jeans so, that’s kind of out.

You see, I don’t like jeans. At all. I wore them for years because that’s just what you wore. I hated them. Jeans are hot and until you’ve owned them 4 years and washed them 100s of times they just aren’t comfortable.

Plus, trying be a short, fat woman. Jeans just are cut to fit short, fat woman. If they fit right at the hips, the waist bulged way out. If they waist and hips did (by some miracle) actually fit they were a foot too long.

Hell, now even if I wanted to buy a pair of jeans, they are all fucking low cut. Even if I was a size 4, I just don’t see that happening. I like my pants to hit my waist, damnit. Nor do I like pants that flare a lot at the ankles. So, I gave up and went with what I liked. Loose, flowy black pants or capris or dresses.

If I had the money I’d wear nothing but skirts and dresses. I just like them. It’s no antifeminist statement (like a few people have told me) or anything like that. I think they look better on me, they’re comfortable and, I just like them.

But, the problem with that is you have to have more dresses than other types of clothes. There is no mixing and matching of various pieces, it’s just one piece, no making it look like an entirely different outfit.

And dresses really aren’t suited for the shooting range or going camping, either. I know, I know, women used to wear dresses for that kind of thing but, have you ever tried to cook over a campfire with loose, flowing clothing around?

That is not a good thing.

Why, you may ask, am I rambling like this? I’m nervous. In 2 days I will be meeting 120+ people at JournalCon. I know none of them. In fact, I haven’t met anyone from the journaling community in real life. I’ve only met people from online a couple of times. Sure, they all went well but, that was a different crowd.

I’m afraid that no one will speak to me. That I’ll end up sitting by myself and not having a damn bit of fun. I’m terrified that people will look right past me. Whenever I’m out in public in my chair, that happens. At a store, the cashiers talk to Tony, at a restaurant the servers treat me like I’m an idiot. People look right over my head.

I don’t want this weekend to be that way. I want to have a good time, make some friends, and really get away from my worries.

Yet, I’m sitting here, worried about meeting everyone. Plus, I’m on a panel Saturday and doing a reading Sunday morning. TranceJen and Weetabix have agreed to be on the panel with me, and the lovely Mo is our moderator. Three wonderful, smart, cute women and me. I’m a nervous wreck and the more I write the bigger the butterflies get. Hell, maybe I’ll bribe my audience with alcohol like Mo suggested.

A question for anyone reading this, how do you get over nerves like this? Comments are below or you can email me. I’m serious. How do I get over this sudden fit of fear?

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