Ruby Rose - Girl Adventurine

Well it's just non-stop Woe this week.

Just been to see the physio - apparently the reason I've got a Sudden Knee Problem (and only for some things, like going down stairs - going up is fine!) is because my kneecap is not "tracking" when I use the knee a certain way.

So the physio has taped it (I feel like a footballer) and given me three separate exercises to do that strengthen it without making me howl in pain.

I also have to use an ice pack at the end of the day, use Voltaren for a week and tape it using - and I love this - "Fixomull" tape. (it sounds exactly like "Fix 'em all" - must be the medical equivalent of gaffer tape).

And I am off to see Katie the Chiro tonight as well, so if there's any alignment weirdness she can help with that. Incidentally, I can walk with no pain whatsoever. It just gets a bit achy at the end of the day and I have to remind myself I can't just squat down and grab things off the lower shelves in the compactus.

I know far more about kneecaps now than I ever wanted to. I actually have to MOVE THE KNEECAP OVER to tape it in place.

Ick ick and double ick.

Woe!!!

Am the Wounded Diva at the moment....Had the 2nd Audition last night for the Verdi Requiem soprano part....and I did not Get It.

The other girl did not sing as well as I CAN but she did make prettier noises than I DID on the day and my top notes were just a little off - enough that they didn't compensate as much as they should. Apparently I sang sharp at times, and I could hear my voice had an edge that isn't usually there - it was Day 2 of my period which I've noticed can affect me.

The other girl occasionally sang flat and had a flabby technique around the edges. She also could not blend with my dear friend Helen the mezzo for - well, for shit.

(Helen and I sounded like one person at times! We are going to go ahead with our planned concert probably next easter so something good has come out of this....)

But this apparently counts less than being sharp. I don't know why I couldn't pull the rabbit out of the hat, I just didn't, it was "just one of those things" to quote Mr C. Porter.

There are a couple of things I would do differently to warm up but everyone can have an off day - sadly, yesterday afternoon was mine.

To add insult to injury, the guy who will be vocal coaching the soloist ensemble wants the same ensemble for all three performances, so I get no performances at all.

Feeling pretty damned raw today, just straight bitter disappointment gurgling in the belly.

I just want to put it behind me and move on but, you know, ARRRRRGH! Getting this gig was part of THE PLAN!!! Now I have NOTHING BIG to put on the resume.

I feel horrible - humiliated and like I've let everyone down, including myself. I cannae keep the heid, cap'n.

Helen says she has a feeling that this is not the end of the story, but that's seductive magic thinking.

I'll keep going with other stuff - but oh my I WANTED that gig and to come second is almost too much.

I'm an Oke. (Hi! Nice to meetcha.)

The people of my clan are rugged individualists who step over the Line into Sheer Perverse Bloody-Mindedness about once a week. It is just our little Way.

And this week, my Line-leaping involves (don't say it too loud! don't! whisper! shhhh!) THE WHOLE OVERWEIGHT AND FATNESS ISSUE.

Just for the record: I am a person of considerable determination and willpower. Should I truly wish to redefine my body size and shape, the only thing likely to stop me would be a bad case of fatal death.

So when I catch sight of myself in a mirror (happens about 5 times a day) and think "oh gleep"; or after the nine-hundred-THOUSANDTH person says something about it or gives me a helpful little article or points me at a website or mentions a Weight-Loss Scammy Organisation, or wonders if I've ever heard of x. wonder product or treats me like my brain has gained weight too or condescends to me in a poor-thing-she-HAS-let-herself-go oh fuck fuck fuck fuck OFF YOU BASTAR.....

(sorry, I started foaming at the mouth a little there. ahem)

......you think I would be able to summon the demons of obsession and get to it.

Except the following has been happening:
1. I try and Eat Nicely and Exercise
2. Something deep inside me starts running around yelling "Don't panic Mr Mainwaring! Don't Panic!"
3. I suddenly must eat many many things from the Saturated Fats food group
4. I gain weight.

Now, I know many women talk about yo-yo dieting and all that, but they at least have a decent crack at it. I hit point number (2) about three and a half days in.

I don't know what (2) is all about. I truly don't. The best I can articulate the feeling is that I don't like the idea of there being less of me in the world.

So, being perverse, determined &etc, here's my solution:

I'm not going to think about THE WHOLE WEIGHT AND FATNESS ISSUE.

As much as anything, I'm stopping so I can still fit into my size 26 stuff. Another cycle round and I won't and clothes bigger than size 26 is tricky to find.

The plan being: eventually the reason for (2) will float up to the surface and I can see it, grok it, and try to work with it.

So: as far as I'm concerned, it's someone else's problem. (Actually, I am beginning to suspect it's been other peoples' problem all along).

And oh, mate, you have GOT to try it - the amount of mental energy you free up is phenomenal.

Here's the things you don't have to give a moment's time to anymore:

Fretting about clothes
- worrying about the fact that you used to wear smaller ones
- being annoyed you don't have the range that the smaller sizes do
- being frustrated about how the clothes look
- being annoyed at how much they cost and how hard they are to find
- worrying about dressing to minimise your lumps and bumps
- worriedly looking in a mirror at the effect and being depressed about all the above points all over again

Fretting about food
- should I be eating this?
- should I be SEEN to be eating this?
- fuck that - should I even be eating?
- what are people thinking about me if they see me while I'm eating this?

Fretting about one's body
- gad! look at me! I'm so....unsightly (this comment has been toned down for those of delicate constitution)
- I will never ever have sex again
- Much in all as I would like to
- Or could my fragile mental state withstand the..the..(aaaargh) of being naked with someone else?
- my body moves differently, and it feels odder and odder
- am I going to get arthritis from the weight on my joints?
- If i lose weight, will I turn into the saggy-baggy-elephant?
- I'm tired. Why am I always tired? Oh god I feel 542 today.

Incidentally - those were just the edited highlights.

On a loop. Like, all the freaking time.

So I have been squashing these thoughts. all of them. They pop up, I squish with a LARGE MENTAL MALLET.

And there's suddenly a beautiful, beautiful silence. There's nothing IN the silence. Not yet.

But I am very interested to find out what might eventually turn up.

And now I am off to wine and cheese and biccies, then home to do a little more house-cleaning.

And still enjoying the quiet.

Well, I'm back from leave.

It was an odd sort of time, took me a week to unwind and then another week to get in the groove and of course it was then time to come back to the Pit of DESPAIR (aka the Melbun Yewni Grads Unit, we don't have odd little Igor-like albinos played by Mel Smith, but we have just about every other oddness peculiar to your self-respecting Pit O' Despair and DUME).

Then went up to Albury on the Queen's Birthday to see the family and get some serious crafting done. As you can see, I finally finished off the Snuggy Project for Isabel and Josephine.

I'd done the patchwork a gazillion years ago but needed to consult with my patchwork-queen sister about the filling and the backing and actual quilting and all sorts of other technical terms as well. I'm more your "hey, I had this idea!" and then sort out the technical stuff by throwing myself at the feet of the experts and claiming to be a Bear of Very Little Brain kind of person than able to actually apply myself to learning a craft properly. (Note: on the whole, this approach works much better than it should!)

There was a LOT of swearing and two sewing machines going non-stop for some hours, but the end result worked out pretty well and the girls were delighted. The picture doesn't show the very pretty details of some of the fabrics, but Josie has stars and little pink bugs on hers and Isabel has butterflies going on.

This picture actually involves four generations - the white cotton thread we used to assemble everything was from my maternal grandmother's stash; the 100% cotton actil sheets we used from the backing are my mother's old ones (still pretty bloody nice let me tell ya - very soft and not too worn and SUCH good quality, oy vey!); my sister and I assembled the quilts; and the girls will use them.

We put the snuggies on their beds in their nice newly-painted pink bedroom and I looked at Brony and said "Well that should get them up to going off to Uni..." and that's only another ten years, fate and money permitting. Oh eep. What if a fifth generation gets to snuggle down under one of these? Bizarre bizarre bizarre.