Lost Weekend

Saturday morning Logan got up bright and early and ran off to work on his sailboat. He was careful not to wake me up, but Eric had already beaten him to that punch. Mr. Excitement called around, oh, 7:22 on a Saturday morning wanting to know what I was doing. In a perfect world, I'd be shagging the brains out of some gorgeous 20-something stud enamoured with me for my fabulous writing, but the cold reality was I was alone in bed with a plastic CPAP mask attached to my face (which greatly amuses Weyland, who loves space operas and aliens, and thinks my breathing apparatus makes a great costume). I tried getting back to sleep, to no avail. Eventually, I got up and tried to rouse the kids. We made it to LMRA in time for the picnic being held by my department at work, ate a little watermelon (None of us were very hungry, but we'd had a late breakfast at Sonic.), and then spent the next two and a half hours swimming. I got a little more sunburned, but Brighid is starting to tan. When we got home, I took a brief nap, then took the kids to bardic.

Padraig never showed (well, he hadn't showed by 11:15 p.m., which is when we left), so no one felt like singing. They act like he's the only bard in the world. I may not be a guitar player, but I have a passing fair voice, and can usually carry a tune. And Padraig even said I needed to attend bardic because he wanted to hear me sing. So I was a little put off by the underwhelming welcome I received.

I stopped playing actively in the SCA several months ago because I just wasn't having fun anymore. After I was turned down for membership in House Mac an Gabhain because they don't like Logan (as if Logan would even join!), I lost a lot of desire to even be around those people any more. Then when I spent the night in the tent of a certain "gentleman", waking the whole encampment several times with the noise of our ardor, I think I was instantly branded a hussy and silently shunned (this from the organization nicknamed "Society for Consenting Adults" and the group known for singing very bawdy songs such as "Barnacle Bill" at the top of their lungs!). After last night, I'm really starting to doubt I will ever go to another SCA function. I've never been treated by anyone as a true friend in that I'm never confided in, never asked to be a part of any hijinks or behind the scenes, secret goings-on. I've tried to bond with people at events, but I guess I'm just too weird for them.

Yesterday, I laid in bed a lot, watching design shows like "Designing Cents" and "Curb Appeal", just relaxing, letting my back stretch out. I had tried coaxing Logan into bed with me, but he rushed off again to go work on the sailboat. So after a bit of fun on my own with an electrical device (I'm almost getting tired of this particular relationship, as it's so one sided. I'd really like a massage and a kiss sometimes instead.), I took a brief nap, then took the kids to the video store to return the old movies and get new ones. We stopped for shaved ice snow cones on the way home. I had my favorite, blue coconut. I only like it to be blue. Sometimes coconut snowcones are white, in which case I don't want them. Once home, I tried to watch "The Life Aquatic" but after 30 minutes, gave up in disgust. It was just too stupid. After the news was over, a really good show, "The Ultimate Survivor", all about the evolution of man, came on. Weyland and I tried to watch it, curled up in bed with the very affectionate cat, Cruack, but we only made it to about 12:15 a.m. before I was overcome with sleepiness and had to shoo Weyland off to his own bed.

Today, I'm at work, eating tortilla chips for lunch because I don't feel like going downstairs to get American-Chinese buffet and I didn't bring anything. Here in a bit, I'll get a glass of water and then go walk down the hall, down the stairs, up the hall, and back up the stairs. Just that little bit of exertion raises my pulse from round 75 up to 136, so I'm not really going to increase the amount of exercise until my pulse doesn't jump quite so much. Yesterday, I mentioned to Beth that she might come over and go for a walk with me. She didn't manage to do so, but maybe today.

I seriously need to take better care of myself, but this morning, I felt like I might have a slight fever and I have a sore spot on my neck which might be a swollen lymph gland. I so do not want to have a summer cold or the flu. If I'm coming down with something, then I just want to crawl in bed and have chicken soup. Mostly, I think, I'm just tired.