Things I have learned whilst painting my bedroom:

I didn't really hate the grey trim like I thought I did. I hated the fact that the (wonderfully) recycled trim was full of nail holes, and that in combination with the barn red floor (really, people? RED?) made me feel like I was living in a horse stall. Which wouldn't have been bad if there had been, yannow, an actual horse involved (minus the manure of course), but no.

Never break the seal on a squeeze tube of wood putty until you're ready to use it. Took my entire body weight on a knee to move it, and considerable digging until POOF the plug shot across the room.

Filling holes takes a lot of time.

Painting takes forever. No. PREPPING to paint, and waiting between coats, takes forever. The actual painting is the shortest part of the project.

Changing the color of the walls, trim and floor while the furniture is in the room (actually, in the middle of changing out the furniture) should be planned out like a battle. Uh... I got part of that right.

I suck at foreseeing how many stages of planning are required... no, that's not fair. I changed my mind mid-stream and decided to paint the floor. Didn't take into consideration HOW that would change the "battle plan." Still not sure about that.

I .. uh... don't do subtle. That or other people are really, really boring with their color choices. I mean if you're gonna paint a room in overcast-and-grey-rainy country, why would you use muted shades (most with blue or grey) like the "color compatibility" chart suggested? Maybe I'm colorblind to subtle, I dunno. I have trouble seeing colors in stars, so maybe so. Anyway, the walls will be apricot and the floor chocolate brown and the trim a pale pale lavender. Starting with dirty cream walls with grey pitted trim and a barn-red floor... should be interesting.

It dawned on me AFTER I bought the paint that I keep repeating the color trio, in various shades, that we used for the exterior of the house. Not sure that's a bad idea, not sure it's a good one, but the rooms are going to be sunnier, anyway.

How do you keep paint off you when you paint? I'm covered. I have a set of clothes -- jeans, socks, shirts -- I keep just for painting. Can point out just about every color I've used in the last 15 years.

Went for a walk late this afternoon, just before sunset, and interrupted two owls. Big owls. Screeched and hooted. One must have been a juvenile, the other definitely an adult -- that one didn't like me around at all, and flew off with a rabbit (or something that size). The slightly smaller one kept staring at me, and then the ground under it, and then at me, and then at the ground, like s/he expected a rabbit to pop up for it any moment. Didn't budge. When I came back later (it's more a balloon-onna-string than a loop trail) it flew to a nearby tree, and then back to its looking branch after I went by.

I took some pictures with my phone, but, well, that's a situation where a cell phone isn't a camera. Looked a lot like this one although I was like an idiot wearing my reading glasses so I couldn't see the details well. Probably just as well, now that I remember their talons.

Grew up here, I'm over 50, and I'd never seen an owl in the wild here that I can remember. Was delightful and kind of funny.

Wildlife I've seen this trip: Bald eagle, magpies (I've missed those), cottontail rabbit, Great Blue Heron (one in my neighbor's goldfish pond, oops, umpteen does (it's hunting season and they're flushed and edgy), massive tadpoles and now owls.

This is fascinating.
Core internet institutions, long allied or overseen by the U.S., move toward international governance./

Not that many folks still read me here, but Elise is looking to make some luscious jewelry sales before Wiscon.

And just like that, I quit meditating. I'd been meditating regularly for months. It was good for me, kept me stable, helped me process some emotional issues. I'd spend a half-hour doing a self-guided visualization meditation and another half-hour writing about it. It wasn't a Buddhist "sit" by any means-- it was more guided imagery with a side of self-psych 101-- but it was incredibly useful.

Then I mentioned it to a friend, an acquaintance, really, with a certain amount of pride.
She said, "Must be nice to have that kind of time."

It burned. It burned because I felt I had the luxury of time and she didn't have. Having things other people don't have has always been a Big Red Button for me. Guilt and shame and a whole lot of stuff packed into my reactions to that. It was like she'd thrown acid on something I saw as an accomplishment and turned it into a steaming pile of shit.

It burned badly enough that I let it stop me do something that was good and healthy for me. Something that I've done, off and on, since childhood. I quit. I kept meaning to meditate, kept trying to, but I never could make it stick. Once a month, once every three months.

That was several years ago.

This January I started the 100-day meditation challenge awryday mentioned. I've missed a few days, once or twice I meditated before I went to bed, and I allowed myself to count a walking meditation, but I've more or less kept it up -- 15- and 25-minute meditations daily, for roughly 42 days now. Some visualization, but mostly breathing and trying not to think (which is impossible, but trying is interesting discipline). And yes, I know that's not exactly the right description but it's nearly midnight and my humor is weird at this hour.

That "it must be nice" comment has come back to me a couple of times.
I finally internalized several things about it.

A. yes, it is nice to *have* the time, but the reality is I set that time aside and choose to not do anything else with it. "I am someone who meditates" is the byword from the Wildwind website, and that works for me.

B. that friend made time for activities she valued and really wanted to do. If meditation was something that was important to her, SHE COULD HAVE MADE THE TIME. She chose not to. I don't have to feel anything about her choices. I certainly don't have to feel guilty because *she* chose to do something else, whether she enjoyed it or not.

C. She wasn't really a friend, or rather, that particular behavior was far from supportive and friendly.
(I knew it was a snide putdown, but at the time that didn't help.)

D. If I'm going to maintain any sense of autonomy, I need to stop giving disapproving or hostile jerks power over my personal health.

Had a rough day yesterday -- not hard, not filled with obstacles, but... one of those "oh, shit, I'm spiraling down again and I don't care" days. When depression feels normal and the way things ought to be.

And sometime that evening, while trying to sort things out so Sweetie didn't get too worried about me, I stopped in my tracks and said, "why am I always depressed right after I accomplish something?"

See, I'd had a fairly run recently -- stories and revision has been more or less working, and I finished a huge-for-me project: got my former office painted and set up for my aged aunt, and had a successful first-run visit with her. Exhausting in some ways, but very pleasing in others -- the room looks better than I had expected, and while we had a few issues I hadn't anticipated, I think they're surmountable and she had a good time. But the day after I took her home, I wasn't just tired and a bit emotionally wrought, as I might have expected (she's terminal, after all) but *depressed* and sinking. And not really giving a shit.

Epiphany of the day: I do this. This isn't the first time this has happened. I made the mistake of saying so outloud, and sweetie, bless his soul, immediately came up with several social and neurological reasons this might be the case. And they're valid: think of the let-down that happens after the holidays, with her visit being comparable to the anticipation and build-up of Giftmas, or consider the post-adrenaline slump that happens after participating in a risky sport. Post-chaos for those who are chaos junkies.

I get that, and some version thereof probably plays into the slide. But this happens after a variety of things I could lump together under the rubric of "I did good there." I maybe had a micro-second of "I did it! WOOHOO!" before I crashed. I barely acknowledged I'd done something pretty awesome before I started telling myself I'd gotten nothing done lately. It's almost like I can't admit I've done something good or worthwhile.

I dunno. It feels like a major epiphany that I have no idea how to use.
*wry smile*

Any of you have a post-accomplishment, post-success slump? Why or what do you do about it?

This first week of 2013, I am grateful for:
Moments of clarity
Glimpses and recognition of progress
Fantastic food, generous hosts and the ability and friendship to linger over it for two hours
(dar Essalam is fantastic)
Motivation in its various forms
Honest and skilled business owners
snuggly cats
Downtime

Wasted most of my eve online.
*sigh*

Here, have a cookie...Bogie Baggins. Ganked from someone smarter'n me.

Had a good afternoon; crit group met and discussed the books we'd read this year, brain candy and learning epiphanies and inspirations alike.

Realized I hadn't written out my "what I've read this year" in some time. So, lessee. ( This year I've read...Collapse )

Cat? If you're gonna try to climb up into my lap, DO NOT have a spider crawling on your whiskers. SERIOUSLY.

Tee. hee.
The real reason the Mines of Moria got messy for our heros.
from jaylake

Have been online very little. Will be online less. Am accomplishing more, although I feel like I am traveling in circles. Today, in actuality I traveled for ... er... seven or eight hours. There was a loop in there but it was mostly forward. Tired now.