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.
I wonder where the dragons went
The spirits & sprites & things
I wonder exactly when they left
These magical, mystical things
I wonder if it was just my mind
Concocting them for me
I wonder if I’ll find again
A spirit I can see
I wonder if they were ever there
Or if I was merely ill
Because I lost touch with all magical things
As soon as I took the pills
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.
It’s that time again…not even 0500, and I’m wide awake. So what’s a girl to do? Well, if you’re me, you end up cruising Pinterest for interesting or helpful images and tutorials. My latest pin obsession? Images from medieval fencing manuals.
Yep, I’m taking it upon myself to try to learn more by…osmosis? I’m not sure what I hope to gain at this point from the diagrams, because I don’t really know how to read them properly–yet. Sure, I can see the drawing and say “Okay, so that guy is standing like so,” but when it comes to the diagrams of movements and such I’m at a loss. Lots of lines and circles all over the place. Or sometimes not even that; just static images that I guess were helpful in ye olde times for teaching fencing and rapier fighting.
I’ll learn how to read them eventually–that’s going to be part of my training as I progress in the rapier arts–but for now, they’re kind of just interesting drawings that I’m saving for the heck of saving. The Spanish Circle is especially mind-boggling, but I’m pinning it anyway.
My hope is that, once I learn how to read the manuals and translate the images into movements, I can start gaining ground in my fighting. Fencing is the first and only sport I’ve ever been remotely good at, and I don’t want to let my teacher down. Yep, I’ve finally chosen a fencing teacher who can give me good one-on-one guidance in my path. I know I’m years from any special awards or recognition as far as period fencing goes, but better to start studying now. Imagine: me, the always-did-her-homework-in-the-five-minutes-between-classes learner, actually studying stuff.
It may take me a while, but I’m going to kick this rapier training in the butt!
Well, it’s done… I have signed my fictional characters’ lives away.
Okay, so it might not be that dramatic. It’s actually a good thing. What I signed was, in fact, the official creative development and publishing contract for my next novel! That’s right, I am through the process of submitting and into the process of revising, editing, lather, rinse, repeat. Officially.
They’ve also written the sequel(s) into the contract, in which they get first dibs on the subsequent books. I have one drafted and at least two more in my noggin. Minimum. So Clare and crew will have many more adventures. 🙂
And for the curious, I have signed with a new publisher, Rhetoric Askew. I’m very excited about this next step in my writing journey, and I can’t wait to see the finished product out there.
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.
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.