Jeans are a type of trousers

Today's trousers: unsuitable for work, but I am wearing them anyway.  I'm a rebel! 
They are green, with patches.  PATCHES.  (I did not, despite my sewing prowess, install the patches myself.  They came pre-installed.  A strange concept.)

 

Now, part of my quiet and insubstantial rebellion at work is that I am in pain.  I'm in a little physical pain, and a little emotional pain, and a little existential pain.  I'M IN A LITTLE PAIN.  And so I express my pain in a healthly manner, like wearing inappropriate clothing and turning up for work JUST on time (not early! take that, work!).

This is a face in pain.

And not just because of the birds' nest hair going on. 

Anyway. Mr. Cereal has a sewing project for me-- something I have not attempted ever!-- jeans.  I'm a bit worried, but more because I see it as a challenge.  Luckily there is a ton of help on the internet.  And Mr. Cereal seems to believe I can do it.  (Though his words last night were less encouraging-- "you're my only hope!")  Ah, worth a try.  And I do like to have a project.  Plus, success would be incredible.  And jeans are, after all, a type of TROUSERS....

(I just can't say PANTS.  Pants = underpants.)

The saddest monkey in the world

nie moj cyrk, nie moje malpy-- just to remind you.

This is the saddest monkey

ever.

source

Not my circus, not my monkey.
This is one of the saddest things I have ever seen.
Thank god he's got a coat!

Building things

I keep finding myself stuck in a rut in front of my computer, making notes on projects I find interesting and I'd like to accomplish instead going ahead and accomplishing them.  I'm very tired of this.

I want to go ahead and build things, write things, and make things instead of making a library of notes on the things I will one day build and make and write.

 Notes from when I was working on my thesis- part of my "library of notes".

I made a list, either last year or the year before, of vague projects I wanted to accomplish, like painting something that I wanted to hang in the house, sewing a piece of clothing I liked to wear, things like that.  Goals that are within reach.  The thing that I did not foresee is that by becoming involved with Mr. Cereal, those things are actually more of a possibility instead of less of one.  I have never had a boyfriend who is so encouraging of my goals while providing inspiration for new ones-- and not in a weird or creepy or overbearing way.  It's difficult to explain.  Since we have become serious I have become involved in martial arts (on the bunny slope-type level), which I am enjoying so much more than I ever would have imagined.  But I am also enjoying the things I do by myself even more.  I can talk about any of my projects or ideas with him-- publishing my thesis, creating Cornell-type boxes, embroidering a representation of a mass grave... and he has ideas on some of them (good ideas!), and ideas for other things I can do.

I am not used to this kind of thing.  This seems like what people have been talking about, about what relationships could be like, but which I have not had.

Anyway.  I'm making a plan to accomplish more. And I like that.
Oh, and I plan on keeping Mr. Cereal around too, if he lets me.  He makes my life a bit better all the time.

Made this for a friend a few years ago. She and her husband wanted fish, but had no room.  Viola!  I created a few fish they could hang from a bookshelf (I guess a fish-mobile of sorts) that would sparkle as they turned around.

yeah, it's corny...

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Elf Socks?

Today's socks: so-called elf socks.
Now, normally I hate compliments at work. HATE THEM.  When most of my workmates compliment me they say "oh, you look nice."  And instinctively I think:
"I don't need nice!"
I don't need "nice." I don't need myself to be it, and I don't need anybody else to be it at me.

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(This does not mean you, Stella and Jessi.)  Partly because I am not trying to look NICE.  I am trying to look AWFUL.  And my preferred compliment is something along the lines of "Oh, well, you look homeless, and from the 1970s."

But today a few co-workers have complimented my socks.  excellent.  They have not said they were nice.  Even better.   One even made fun of them, calling them "elf socks", but even that is beginning to grow on me.  Elf socks.  heh.

Today's outfit is a bit librarianish.  Topped off by very librarian hair, even. 

And, to sweep away the cobwebs of yesterday I will (I am hoping) very soon be getting into my stupid gym clothes and going to the stupid gym.  Bleurgh.

Here's some Andrew Bird.

Work Trousers

Today's trousers: green, subtly herringboned, super-static-making
Today's M:

There's some days you wake up in a mire of overpowering sadness.  And there's others when you wake up and things are awesome and then work tried to kill you and suck out your soul.  Today is the latter.  Even if my trousers had been awesome they could not have saved today.  Bugger.

However, tomorrow is a brand new day.  I have spent all evening cleaning my room (it's an ongoing project- like cleaning an oil spill).  Currently I have 4 bags of clothes to go to the charity shop (my sister will be very proud!).  I'm tired, and I feel as grumpy as Grumpy Cat looks.  It's the kind of day I call "wombat".

Post script: the good news is this: "When I am attacked by gloomy thoughts, nothing helps as much as running to my books.  They quickly absorb me and banish the clouds from my mind." Michel de Montaigne
I am running to my books, and even the thought of it makes me feel better!

Symphony in Brown

Because my beloved co-workers are in the office today I am wearing an EXQUISITE ensemble in brown.  A symphony in brown.  (A symphony of ugly, more like)  And because my beloved Stella is in the office today I chose a terrible shirt to amuse her.  I have already done my hideous Liz Lemon dance to amuse Catherine.  I am on co-worker amusement fire today.  I am living to make others happy, and it is making me happy too.

Mr. Cereal is having a tough day at work.  And I have a plan to make it better later.  I'm really excited about that too.  I don't want to spoil it, but it doesn't involve a symphony in brown. 

Speaking of brown, it always makes me think of Lewis Mumford's book The Brown Decades:A Study of the Arts in America 1865-1895.  Mumford was, of course, a student of Patrick Geddes, the subject of my thesis.  Mumford had a problem with the way Geddes taught, as illustrated in the way Geddes would take people (specifically Mumford himself) through the Outlook Tower, showing them how to see Edinburgh through it. 

It's an interesting idea that Geddes was so insistent on showing people how to see things the way he saw them.
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Soup Shoes

Today I was musing on my old soup shoes.  They are somewhere in my closet at the moment.  Since I am no longer sitting at the front desk, I no longer have to wear dress shoes to work.  Instead I wear sneakers most days, adding a touch of insanity to even my most normal outfit, and making the crazy ones look that much more dressed-in-the-dark-baglady-ludicrous. 

Good old soup shoes.  They were the high point of some of the outfits last year.  They were so named because one shoe had a slight stain, probably from some soup.  They made me look more homeless than usual, especially when paired with ugly trousers.  I looked like someone had dressed me out of a Salvation Army charity box.

I like my sneakers better, mostly because they are comfortable and help my feet stay warm.  I must be getting old, all my fashion is so clearly based on warmth and comfort.  And I now own about 80 scarves.

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