To Address a Dress

Now I'm stealing blog posts from conversations. How lame. Well, bear with me, I think this one is rather interesting.

It's been a bit of a running joke between a work friend and I that I should wear a dress to the work Christmas party, which is apparently, a formal affair. (I believe that this was later denied, but there you have it...) Yeah. I have one dress. The One Dress, (much like the One Ring, or in the case of Harlemites, the One Bowl) so I feel extremely strange wearing it to something that isn't the most formal thing ever.

That got me to thinking about why, exactly. Why do I get so freaked out about wearing a dress, and looking feminine? (Or even girly, depending on your idea of what's feminine.) I suppose it's because I don't think of myself as feminine at all. Not really even a little bit. Oh, sure, I'm a woman, and I know that, and I'm proud to be a strong, intelligent woman, but feminine? No. That's something that for some reason I don't think I have a claim to be. I feel as if it's something that I don't dare to come across as. As if it were completely wrong to think that I could.

It's strange. I'm not insecure about myself (except maybe a little when it comes to my writing, but I'm developing a thicker skin, so that's not so much of a problem) and I even rather like my body at the moment. No, to correct that, I love the way my body is. It's getting stronger thanks to yoga, and I actually think it's rather attractive, in a classic-nude kind of way. Whatever, I'm perfectly fine with it, and if other people aren't, then screw them.

But in a dress? I feel as if I'm stripped of all of my protections. Extremely, ridiculously vulnerable. I'd have to be utterly sure that I didn't look completely stupid, or I don't think I could pull it off. It's exposing my soft underbelly* to the world, and... And I don't know. As I said before, it's like being feminine or girly isn't something that I have a claim to. Like I'm an impostor of sorts.

I think I need to perhaps address this. I'm going to organise a night out, and I shall surround myself with people that I can count on, and I will wear my One Dress, and I will look wonderful, and I will confront the part of me that wants to go and hide in a corner when I think of people seeing the side of me that's (gasp!) girly.

Because I'll be damned if I'm going to let this be a chink in my armour.


*Yes, Skits, I know you just thought of Logan just then. *grin*

Hobblings, etc.

Right, so I was doing my assignment like a good girl, I swear.

Yes, I know you don't believe me, but anyway, part of it actually includes the wonderful Section 8 (they're my pretend sponsor) and I was hunting around for that photo (or photos) that Jes took when she came to visit. (Actually, I've just remembered that they're on Flickr. Thanks, brain.) I thought for some reason that they were on Q's blog, so I spent a good half an hour trawling through her blog entries for Hobbling related matter, and came across a whole lot of meet posts. They made me laugh and sigh and giggle a million times each.

Especially this:

Rian peeled a banana for Aidan to eat, so I decided to test the truth of this whole 'banana phobia' thing. I grabbed the mushy end bit and started trying to wave it in her face, and she immediately squealed like a five year old girl and ran away. Of course there was only one mature thing that I could reasonably be expected to do in a situation like that. I chased her around the kitchen with the banana instead, because honestly. Wouldn't you?

Yeah. My god, that was the most awesome fun. I want to tour America again! Can I tour America again? Please?

And this photo is a really good one. Look! Me and Jes! Not poking each other! See, we can be rational and mature and that sort of thing on rare occasions...



So I guess this whole post is really just a nice little Hobbling tribute. You guys fucking rock. And, I just wanted to say that I love you guys, and thank you for keeping me sane over the last couple of days, in which my brain has been melting with the homework-related stress.

Back to the assignment. But I shall be grinning while I write it, so there you are.

Euphoric, Hyperactive, Worshipping Various Things

Yeah, I don't know what happened, but my Pit of Woe magically vanished. I'm suddenly walking on sunshine, grinning like a mad thing over nothing in particular (apart from being reminded all the time about my wonderful forthcoming birthday, Amanda Palmer, I love thee so) and am generally bloody stoked. About... well, various things, but mostly nothing in particular. Just happy. Simply happy.

And I'm going to have the best birthday, ever.

Birthday Goodness!

OK, friends, listen up. If you're a friend of mine who's a Melbourne friend, I insist that you join me watching the wonderful Amanda Palmer of the Dresden Dolls when she plays at the Spiegeltent on my birthday! (You should know when this is... Hah, but if you don't, email me and I'll fill you in.)

I can't imagine a better night than going out to dinner and having a couple of drinks, and then rocking out to one-half of the Dresden Dolls. Seriously, much much fun. So come if you can, I'd love to see you there!

Reflection

I'm awake.

Awake and thinking, mostly about the completely weird day I've had today. I've somehow magically managed to get an extension on the work that was killing me with stress. Goddamn it, I told myself last semester when I was freaking out that I wasn't going to do it to myself again, and I bloody well have. I should know by now that my panic response will kick in solidly and propel me into getting things done on time.

Just a couple of weeks and it's all over for the course. Wow, that's actually rather terrifying, and slightly sad. I hope I manage to stay in touch with people I've met, they're a cool bunch of people. No doubt we'll all end up working all over the place, but I'm sure we'll keep tabs.

Isn't it strange how sometimes music can latch right onto your mood and reflect it rather perfectly? Well, thanks, new Radiohead album. You're working a treat.

Pile of Woe

Well, I'm stressed and tired and grumpy this afternoon. Aaargh. Slept terribly last night - hideous nightmares that had to do with people being blown up and killed and also this awful part where I was in a house that was under attack. I place the blame squarely on Children of Men. I think it broke my brain. It certainly put me in a yucky mood. How horribly depressing it was.

That, and I have all of the homework in the world piled up at my feet, and bugger all time to do it. Holy hell, there is no way I'm going to get it done by Friday, which is when my news is due. Oh god, oh god, I'm doomed. Not to mention my other major assignments.

Oh, and I won tickets to the races on Wednesday through work, and I honestly don't think I'll enjoy myself because I'll be too damn busy. Time to email my tutor and wig out, I think.

Argh. I feel so disgustingly... argh.

Visions

I'm listening to music, and writing what seems to be the beginning of a very long, solid, sustained idea. It's amazing, it's almost as if I can see three or four well-spaced scenes right in front of my eyes. Just need to clear the fog a little and I'll have a very good handle on this, I can just tell.

It's exciting, that's what it is. I think right now I need to just go off and sit and think in the quiet, and try to draw some more of this out, or make sure I have it all in my head. But... yes. It's there. I feel almost... triumphant. Yes, that's exactly it. Because I have something, something tangible, almost.

I can see this, and it's beautiful.