…why is it so hard to write about myself sometimes? People, as a rule, love to talk about themselves! It’s the subject they know best! But I’ve started 7 blog drafts and not found a single worthy to post. So I’ve banished them to the Land of Half Formed Ideas to dwindle and perish or fight their way into real, quasi-entertaining stories.
I suppose I’ll just fill in a quick update instead. October’s half over, almost, and I am in shock that it’s passed so quickly. It’s my favorite month and I don’t feel that I’ve gotten to enjoy it at all.
There are so many awesome things about October – the changing weather, the start of hockey season, football and renaissance faire. Oh, and also my birthday. I can’t believe it’s only little more than a week away. It took me nearly a year to get ok with being 30, and now I have to be ok with 31? I guess so – the alternative isn’t very attractive.
Last weekend was the first weekend of the Texas Renaissance Festival. It looks to be a good season. I play Mistress Cathrine Norreys, and my friend Will is my escort, as my brother Sir John Norreys. The new gown is AMAZING. I forgot to bring a camera last weekend, so I’m hoping someone out there took pictures and put them online. It’s always somewhat of a shock to search the internet for TRF pictures and find one of you that you never noticed being taken.
So what else? The house. Yes. The house. The never-getting-finished, too-much-to-do house. Pretty much all good progress stopped when I moved in. Nothing’s been finished, but at least I’m getting more unpacked now. I bought a washer and dryer and they’re being delivered this week, which will be awesome, since darling Tybalt, my middle cat, has “thinking in the box” issues and frequently protest pees on things.
Ok, that’s a quick update for now – mostly for Awesome Boyfriend, who, even though he already knows everything I’m going to type, still checks the blog every day. Hiya, handsome.
Everyone, have a happy Tuesday and an even happier week. Maybe we can all get drinks next week and help me forget I’m getting older.
