That’s right, now you’ll have to pay…

Why re-write when this says just enough

This was a mid-morning email to Mon Amour (yes, folks, I’ve been busy but I swear I’ll finish catching up with y’all soon!)

Good morning, lover. Might I make one small request for the future?

No. Visible. Marks.

Sigh… Had I even thought to look I might have noticed it but I didn’t and didn’t and wore a combination of a shirt with no collar and my hair up. Mom’s talking to me about something totally unrelated (a trip to the Clinique counter) and suddenly stops mid-thought and says “Is that a hickey on your neck?”

*insert mortification here*

And because I’m totally guilty of being a lecherous trollop I was unable to come up with anything coherent to say as I reached for a mirror. It went something like

“I hope not. Well, I mean, okay, it’s possibly it could be, but I hope not. Oh Christ. Yeah, it is.”

As Mom stares.

Now, upon further reflection it COULD remotely by an infinitesimal fraction of a chance be a pinch mark from my messenger bag that, because of the crutches, I do wear crossed over my neck there but no, it’s not, I know better and besides… those marks are different. But had I thought about it I could have saved myself a smidgen of embarrassment… maybe. No, she didn’t ask who was responsible for it, so I haven’t had to explain anything but dear heavens.

Anyway, just thought I’d share.

So far today is going quite well, embarrassment aside.

xoxo

Quizzes!

We interrupt this still-late recap of the last month or so to bring you fun and frivolity via silly quizzes. Enjoy.

You taste like filet mignon. You are the epitome
of fine taste and everyone knows it. You are
expensive, well aged, and in demand!

How do you taste?
brought to you by Quizilla

The Veteran You scored 72%!

You’ve picked up the majority of the classic rock basics. You probably have a classic rock collection and can sing along with most of the songs on your local radio station. This is not the highest score, but it is arguably the best: that subtle combination of impressive knowledge and not being a pretentious geek.

Your Christmas Song Is

All I Want for Christmas Is You I just want you for my own More than you could ever know Make my wish come true… All I want for Christmas is You You only want one thing for Christmas Love from one special person – and you’ve got it!

You Are an Orange Martini

Everyone’s favorite drunk, you’re fun, flirty, and charming. Unfortunately, you often spark jealousy – and unintentionally start bar fights. You should never: Drink and dial. You’ll just end up with multiple booty calls at your door! Your ideal party: Is huge and lively. You love to work a crowd. Your drinking soulmates: those with a Blueberry Martini personality Your drinking rivals: those with a Dirty Martini personality

Your Reputation Is: Sweet Girl

While you’re well known, there’s nothing to worry about. You’re reputation is mostly good – as good as any rep can be.

You Are Confident Sexy

You’re one sexy chica, and you know it. You’ve got the confidence to strut your stuff… And approach any man who happens to catch your eye. You may make a guys run away, but the true men will appreciate your moxie.

Okay. Now that’s out of my system.

Look, a post!

Yes, well, I know I’ve been very bad and not posted for a while. Y’all can take turns on who gets to flog me first.

So, let’s see, where should I begin? It was probably mid-November since I talked to you so I was probably behind on NaNo word count…did I even talk about Martinmas Moot yet? (just checked, nope, it was before, so let me start back ever FARTHER than I thought I needed to)

Martinmas was fun. At first I wasn’t sure because I had no definite need to be there, etc. and many friends were not there, but it turned out to be very fun indeed. Seeing the coronation of Gaston & Judith was quite interesting (pastry, anyone?) and crown lyst was entertaining as well. I discovered that watching general heavy fighting is very different from watching something like a crown lyst where the participants are really strategizing and thinking about their blows rather than the frantic flailings of what I’d seen before. The lyst ended a smidge late and I rushed off to the Art/Sci meeting, then a little scribing before court and feast.

Dancing after feet was sparsely attended, though we did have one newcomer to last the evening with us and Eoin tossed out some new-to-me dances that I really liked! One I can’t remember the name but the other is Tourdion and it is relatively simple but SO much fun to dance. Both dances were in response to the no-skipping request of the newcomer, Angus, who then accompanied us in to see the SCATV skit and then invited Theodora and I to the Crimson Fist party. Theodora demurred but I decided it sounded like fun and ended up staying up all the functional night sitting around the fire listening to all sorts of stories. Round about 5am the last person hit the hay and I decided to go ahead and get a shower and read until it was light enough to pack up and drive back. Stupid. Stu-pid. Freaking worst idea of my life. There was no hot water in the shower trailer. None. I cursed an ice-blue streak as the frigid water sluiced over me.

I think I got about 45 minutes of sleep after that before getting up, breaking down the tent, and heading back to Tallahassee. Made pretty good time, too, getting off I-1o right at 1pm in plenty of time to make it to the airport. I got home, unloaded the car and put on the ankle brace I bought to support my left ankle. While dancing gracca amorosa slowly to demonstrate I planted my left foot poorly and wrenched the ligament. Though twingy I was careful and just finished out the nice as usual, but the next morning it was swollen and painful. Sigh…

So the flight. Well, the first one was a short hop from Tallahassee to Atlanta, 45 minutes in the air, and I handled it well. I was stuck in the middle seat so had to battle a smidge of claustrophobia but it was managable. All I could think was ‘just keep swallowing’ and ‘hey, this feels like a roller coaster and you like roller coasters, this is nothing’ trying to convince myself. We had about an hour and a half layover in Atlanta, luckily did not have to change terminals and only had to walk a few gates down. The next leg of the trip was three hours and I had a window seat. It was dark though, so not at all disconcerting and we made it to Boston without incident.

After picking up the rental car we headed for Plymouth. Well, actually, we headed for Rhode Island and were nearly to Providence when we realized we had missed a turn (or made a turn when we should have gone straight). I quipped that I had declined to drive so as to AVOID a ‘how I got lost in New England’ story and it still happened! Of course, it was about 11ish by this time and I was going on 45 minutes and 1 Code Red so started to droop and finally snooze while Adam got us to the hotel.

Training went well, we finished a little early on day 2 and a lot early on day 3 which gave us time to site-see around Plymouth. Oh the walking. And oh, the food. I think that’s an entry for another night, but let me just say: Mangotini.

The planes back were fine, I snoozed off and on but couldn’t really sleep. Got back to town pretty much on time without incident, picked up the dog and spent the next week and a half trying to recover both my ankle and my lost sleep and productivity.

More tomorrow/Friday, it’s late enough by the time this little bit gets put up. Trust me, it gets interesting.