Hating, Waiting

I hate Christmas.

No, no: I hate this Christmas.

No mail! Nobody sends email! The coffee shops are closed! Everything's closed except some bar I didn't want to go to, because who wants to go to a bar on Christmas day with a bunch of sad people drinking themselves sadder?

Okay, so most of Christmas was actually pretty good. D. came over early, and we made omelets. Then we watched movies! movies! movies! all day long. We had shrimp for lunch. Meg called, and we had a nice talk. I made lasagna (which came out well). D. left around 9 p.m... and that's when I started hating Christmas.

I'm sore. I've been exercising pretty regularly lately. I stopped running, in case you didn't realize; that just petered out. Brenda invites me sometimes on Saturdays, but I've always just waken up and don't feel like being physical because it's Saturday and I'm in no-stress mode. But I've been doing stuff at home, stretches, crunches, some aerobic exercises. Getting my heart rate up. My muscles are sore all the time. It's kind of a good sore, as I know I'm being active and that it's good for me. But it sucks. I felt all crappy last night. So I took a hot bath to soothe my soreness.

Baths always seem like such a good idea. I liked them when I was a kid. I like them when I have company-- me and Meg often read to one another (when we're not 3,000 miles apart), one of us reading while the other takes a bath. That's nifty.

But taking a bath by myself is no fun. I get too hot and start sweating. The overflow-prevention thingy gurgles and irritates me when I submerge. I think about the fact that I'm sitting in a tub of dirty water. I bang my elbows.

Hot tubs are nice. Maybe that's the problem. My tub is too small and non-dynamic.

It didn't make my muscles feel noticeably better, either.

My eyes were bothering me yesterday, too. I don't know why. I immediately assume it's my bloody corneas, but I'm pretty sure that's not it. I probably just needed to clean my contacts; my eyes are fine today. But last night, when I got tired of being at the house and wanted to go to the Saturn to get a milkshake, I couldn't put my contacts back in. My eyes just started streaming water, and my lenses felt like pieces of tin foil. It sucks. And I don't have a pair of glasses right now; my glasses are broken and thrown away. Meg's going with me to pick out frames this week. But last night I went without a milkshake. And yes, my eyesight is so bad that I don't want to walk a block to a restaurant without my contacts in. I wanted to read while I had a milkshake anyway, and unless I held the book all up by my nose I wouldn't have been able to do that.

I finished Zod Wallop. It totally ruled. And on Sunday I had a random conversation with a guy at Javha House about Zod Wallop and Carroll's Land of Laughs and Goldstein's Dark Cities Underground-- all those novels about the darker side of children's books. Nice. It's always nice to encounter people with good taste in books, when so many people around me are reading The Celestine Prophecy and the novelization of Dude, Where's My Car?.

Okay. So I made up the Dude, Where's My Car? thing. But you get the idea.

Otherwise on Xmas... I surfed around online some. Read a good Xmas story, "War of the Lights," at Strange Horizons by my old Novel-Dare-Mate Madeleine Rose Reardon Dimond. And Karen posted a lovely Xmas entry.

I wanted to write, but I didn't. I'm not sure how to proceed on my far-future romance. I need to ask Scott some stuff about solar explosions. I thought about writing a vampire story, then asked myself: "Does the world need another vampire story?" Then I remember Kim Newman's "Andy Warhol's Dracula" and Pat Cadigan's "The Power and the Passion" and think how new, fun stuff can be done with the sub-genre. So maybe I'll write a vampire story. I have an inkling of an idea of a notion for one. I thought about Ferocious Dreamers and didn't want to go to such a dark place just yet.

I considered writing y'all an entry. Obviously, I didn't.

I thought about the MU* I used to frequent. I would've logged on there (It's always pretty active), but my character got purged ages ago when I didn't log on for several months, and being a guest sucks. So I didn't.

I was a big sluggy sack of wanting time to pass. I wanted it to be Wednesday so that Meg would be here. Time is just crawling!

I did a little cleaning, finally. Straightened my room a bit. I have to clean the rest of the house tonight, because I want it to be nice when Meg gets here. Mostly I need to vacuum up all the cat hair that's all over the place and wash my bedding. Meg's got allergies, and I don't want her to be a snuffling miserable be-hived red-eyed monster.

Things'll be fun when she gets here. Fun. Fun. Fun.

I hate waiting.