Hanging by a thread

It’s almost here: the Yule feast that my husband’s in charge of cooking. The theme (which you may recall if you follow this blog) is Italian Renaissance. As Viking personas, we had no Italian Ren garb. None. So I’ve been scrambling to make two full outfits.

Did I mention I have no clue how to make period-accurate Italian Ren garb? Yeah. There’s that. I had patterns for my husband’s clothes (which, being “costume” patterns and not “historical” patterns, are not quite period-accurate either), but I needed a lot of help with my garments. Thankfully there are some really kind, really helpful ladies in our barony who were willing to give me their time and attention so I could be properly attired.

I’ve still got a few things to finish, but with (hopefully) a half day at work today, I should be able to finish everything in time. I have to:

  • re-sew the snaps on the stomacher of my dress because the dress ended up needing to be taken in a bit more (yay!)
  • add the buttons to my husband’s pants (and the belt loops he requested for extra security; not “period,” but they’ll keep the pants up lol)
  • finish the sleeves, collar, and hem on his shirt
  • add as much fancy trim as I have time to slap on there
  • iron the damn things

Once the sewing and ironing are done, I have to bust my butt to clean up the craft room and transform it into a guest room again. I have accumulated quite a bit more fabric since the last time I cleaned/straightened in there, so it looks like a trip to Wal-Mart or some such place is in my future so I can get more storage for all that crap. Then, once our guest is gone, I have to bring things back out again so I can try to get the one Christmas present I plan on sewing done before the holiday. I doubt I’ll be able to, though, and it makes me feel bad. I know I had a lot going on lately–sickness, injury (oh yeah, forgot to mention: I broke another bone on my foot back at the last war event), work, and garb–but that doesn’t stop the guilt from eating at me.

That’s not all in the sewing department; I have gifts for the women who helped me, a tournament prize, more garb (with a February deadline this time–easier Viking stuff), and assorted odds and ends that I want to make. Seriously, I have a list. Typed up. Because I’m a nerd.

Why am I typing this instead of cranking out garb? Well, I’ve gotten to a step that I can potentially skip, but I need to wait for my husband to wake up so I can ask him if he minds if I omit the step. He’s been stressed enough about the event, though, so I’ll let him sleep. I can find other things to do until then.

But as soon as he’s up and has made a decision, it’s back to the grind.

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On the outside looking in

I’m so very, very glad that I’m not in charge of anything important right now. 

The past several months I have watched as people get frantic, frustrated, and furious over the planning and execution of various events. My conclusion as an outside observer? None for me, thanks. Whole lotta nope.

It’s more than little hiccups. It’s more than speed bumps along the way. It’s a full-on train wreck. Sometimes it’s just that life has different plans, but sometimes it’s…”operator error.” In other words, the cluster stems from human nature. Whether it’s disorganization, miscommunication, or just plain laziness, the humanity factor can really jack even the best laid plans.

I will admit that I don’t know the whole story for all of these things. Like I said, I’m viewing as an outsider. There are behind-the-scenes happenings that I’m not privy to. Still, the little that I do know is enough to turn me off to the notion of taking part in any of this type of responsibility in the future. What kind of nut job voluntarily takes this crap on?

Not this nut job. No siree. Until I see one of these things going smoothly without drama or chaos, I’m going to stay at the sidelines and dodge the cannon fire.

Crunch of a different kind

Anyone who has read this blog for a decent amount of time may be familiar with my recurrent Con Crunch–the time when a convention nears and you’re scrambling to finish your cosplays in time. One could almost say I have chronic Con Crunch, or Triple C. No matter how much I try to plan, I never seem to be able to get my costumes done without a last-minute scramble.

The SCA has proven to be no different. I seem to always be in that Crunchtime zone where I worry that I won’t finish the garment(s) before the event I’m making them for. Prime example: the Italian Renaissance-themed Yule event that’s in less than two weeks. I have my camica done, my outer dress mostly done (still need to hem it and adjust a couple things due to my recent weight loss), and my husband’s pants mostly done. I still need to make his shirt and doublet, though, and–if there’s time–an underskirt for the dress. Since I made mockups of the shirt and doublet, I know it won’t take too terrible long to get them done once I have a chance to just focus, but I have one little problem…

I think my right foot has somehow gotten re-injured. Like, it’s hurting bad enough I worry that it might have become re-broken. Seriously, the only thing that helps for any length of time is to wear the stupid fracture boot that I got from the podiatrist this past February when I first broke it. Here’s a photo of the x-ray for reference:

broken-foot

Yeah, that circled part is the nice little break with the nice little chunk of bone was taken off. According to the podiatrist it was pretty much healed after a few weeks in the boot, and he told me I didn’t really have any restrictions. Cool beans, right?

Well, that “crushing” fracture (as the doctor diagnosed it; to this day I still have no clue how it happened) has been increasingly painful since I decided to wear my medieval period shoes for a couple of days at a recent event. Now, I’ve got gel insoles in them, but they’re not memory foam like my beloved Sketchers–which I ended up changing into for the remainder of the event after the medieval shoes started making my right foot hurt. Or at least that’s what I thought was the cause…now I’m not so sure.

Did I take a wonky step in those shoes and not notice? Knowing me it’s entirely possible, but it’s also possible that there’s something else going on. Something less sucky, perhaps? Regardless, I won’t know until I see the podiatrist again in a couple of weeks. Lucky me didn’t have enough openings at work to be able to get in any sooner. So it’s been over three weeks of moderate to severe pain in my right foot, with another two to go.

Oh, yeah, and I also have trouble controlling the sewing machine pedal with my left foot. So there’s that adding to the already stressful #currentmiddleages crunch. Yeah, no, let’s not use that term again. The alliteration is all well and good, but it feels a bit forced. Costume Crunch? That could work. The garb is essentially medieval costumes, after all.

Fingers crossed that there’s not a bone crunch mixed in with this Costume Crunch. I won’t find out until after the Yule event, so I have to suffer for a little longer.

Speaking of crunches, I suppose I should get cracking on the shirt and/or doublet.

Except this boot is keeping the pain at bay.

Damned if I do, damned if I don’t.

Wallflower disease

I’m a wallflower. Not gonna lie. I enjoy my own company more than just about anyone else. So what’s so wrong with that?

Apparently it’s some kind of condition. Like, one where you need to check on the person constantly to make sure they’re ok.

Let me rewind a bit. Tonight there was a birthday party for a friend at a club. No big deal, right? Well, if you’re not a wallflower I’m sure it’s no big deal. Us petal people, however, sometimes have to make big adjustments to tolerate–or even survive–parties like the one tonight. My go-to coping mechanism is to find a semi-quiet corner and bury my nose in my phone.

I guess some people don’t like seeing that. There appears to be some kind of protective instinct that takes over and makes the non-flowers want to comfort the flowers, who are actually perfectly comfortable sitting alone. Not only did people come to me and ask if I was “okay,” they apparently asked my husband if I was okay as well.

I’m not saying that there’s anything wrong with wanting people to have a good time. I’m just saying maybe those people with their noses buried in phones or books or laptops are having a better time than they would be inside the crowd. Maybe those people in the booth corners are having the time of their lives off on their own.

Wallflowerism isn’t contagious, but it’s also not a disease.

The fabric of space

Made great progress on my Italian Renaissance dress today… Until it was pointed out to me that I need considerably more yardage to get the skirt done. Crap.

On the plus side, I had to take in the back of the top a bit because of the weight I’ve lost working out. 🙂 The three days a week of exercise have proven to be successful in shrinking me, even if I don’t see it myself.

I am ever grateful for my husband and our friends for encouraging me to exercise on a regular basis. I’ve never had the ability to stick with an exercise regime of any sort, but I’ve been working out with my friends for several months, and I have no desire to quit. It kills me and makes me ache for days on end, but I feel good knowing that I’m getting stronger and having more endurance.

I’m still going to need more fabric, though. Guess I have to hit the internet for the last of it, because the store didn’t have much left.

I take up less space, but I still need more fabric.

Twilight zone

Today marks the official return to “mundane” life after four days of semi-immersion in medieval life (glamping and tennis shoes don’t count as full immersion, right?), and it’s a weird return. I have work, but it’s not my usual work…kind of a light day, in comparison. Then tomorrow I’m off, Wednesday I’m in an office I don’t work at much, and Thursday is another weird work day. Friday should mark the return of normalcy in the office, hectic as it is.

The transition is always an odd time for me. I have been “gone” from my mundane life for only four days, but it truly feels like a different life. I hardly thought about work at all during my off time. My life was guard duty and tournaments and marshaling and setup and tear down. It was nice, I have to admit.

Sadly, work is a necessity in life, and I must go back. I can’t just keep escaping to the current middle ages–especially considering how expensive those current middle ages are. Nope, I have to go back to reality as it were.

Time now ticks away until the Yule feast. I have barely over a month to finish two full Italian Renaissance outfits, and I am woefully behind. Good thing for that off day tomorrow, I guess. I need to get cracking on cutting fabric and pinning and all that good stuff. And finding a pattern for my husband’s garb. And figuring out how to assemble the pieces on my dress.

*Sigh* Off to mundanity now.

 

Kinda want something to do, kinda don’t want to be around people…or do I?

So here’s something about social anxiety that you might not realize: sometimes, we actually want to hang out. We just don’t know how to make ourselves approach people in order to hang out.

One prime example is me today. I had nothing to do, but I wanted to do…. something. I didn’t know what; all the things there were to do involved peopling. Go hang with my husband who was standing guard for the Queen? People. Going to an art class? People. Wandering through the vendor tents? You guessed it: people. So what’s a girl to do?

Well, this girl slept. I took a depression nap because I had nothing to do that didn’t involve being around people who were mostly strangers to me. Not exactly fun.

It’s hard to articulate. I mean, for people who don’t have social anxiety it might seem stupid. But it’s a thing. A real thing. And sometimes it pisses me off. I want to have something to do. I want to hang out. But I don’t. I don’t want to. Fucking frustrating.

It’s like wanting a cookie. But you’re allergic to the nuts in the cookie. Or rather, your brain tells you you’re allergic to the nuts in the cookie. Your brain tells you that if you eat that cookie you’ll fucking die. But hot damn, that cookie looks good.

Right now I’m among close friends, so I’m cool just sitting around. I can handle this. I’ve got to learn how to let myself relax around semi-strangers, though.

I can only take so many naps.