Roots. They grip the ground. They keep plants
in one place and provide nutrients and everything needed for the plant. In
order to have roots, you have to have ground, and moving seriously uproots me,
sends me into the air. I feel like I’m tumbling through the air, trying to land
and figure things out again. We moved into our house at the end of August, this
year. It took me until yesterday, December 16th, to unpack my box of
trophies and trinkets that have always resided in my bedroom. Now they reside
in my study. It’s awesome. I have my bowling trophies on the windowsill, I have
the engraved plate my mom bought for me on the shelf above my monitor, right
next to my awesome, new jester frog. My study is fucking awesome, now, and it took
me until now, halfway through December to Christmas. It feels like I’m settling
down as I put more boxes in the attic and find homes within my house for more
of my belongings.
Plenty
has happened in the months since I last wrote. I realize now that I need to
forgive myself for not writing more often. Forgive myself for taking so long to
unpack and get everything set up. Frankly, though, I didn’t want to write blog
posts from the living room, anymore. I don’t like moving the furniture on the
carpet because the carpet is really thick and even the chairs, as light as they
are, don’t move very easily if I try sliding them. The apartment floor was much
better for it. I’m so glad to have my study set up so I can blog not only with
a monitor and a computer chair where I can see everything on my screen clearly,
but also so that I have a secluded space in the house that is my own, where I
can get away from everyone or select my company. There is only one chair, and
it is mine. No one else sits in it. I plan to make my altar next to the window
in this room. This is my space. The only things in here that aren’t mine are
two of Randy’s books on Tao, because this is basically the book place of the
house and they look good on my shelf.
My
trash container is a party cup. Literally a black Solo cup that sits on my desk
and holds a few small things and is nice and discreet. I don’t have to change
trash bags or cart things in and out of the room. I can take the cup out, toss
it, and grab a new cup to bring in for trash. It’s wonderful. I bought new
speakers, a new monitor, a new tablet—everything is fucking great. I can’t wait
to actually start using the tablet, but I’ve been really absorbed in the Sims
4, lately.
Two
friends are staying in my art room until they get on their feet and can get
their own place(s). I have yet to hang my dragon posters because I want to swap
the locations of the hutch and what Randy thinks is a carrion cabinet. If it is
a carrion cabinet, it’s very simple and has a large opening and single shelf in
the large area for maybe a TV and cable box, I would imagine. Either way, I
want to switch the walls on which these pieces of furniture currently sit, and
put Persephone’s TV in the “carrion cabinet” and the hutch against the wall
next to the front door. My battle dragon can hang over the hutch and the cliff
dragon can hang over where Persephone should put her riding cars away, next to
the fireplace. I plan to hang my other purchased paintings along the walls in
the stairwell to the art room.
Today,
I read some articles. One was about the effects of alcohol on babies while
breastfeeding. The other was about Mick Jagger having a new baby at the age of
74, with a woman by the age of 30. The breastfeeding and drinking article
started out by saying that imbibing in a few drinks during the holidays will
not necessarily result in anything negative with the nursing baby. It then went
on to say that mothers should be conscious and aware of how much they are
drinking, however, as getting drunk while breastfeeding is generally frowned
upon for many reasons that have nothing to do with how much alcohol gets into
the breast milk. As far as Mick Jagger having another baby… Well, that’s for
another blog post, but my point here is that I’ve managed to pull away from the
Sims long enough to get my brain working and creating ideas based on my
experiences as they relate to what I’m reading. It is also immensely helpful to
have the two friends I have staying with me. They provide socialization and
while I have gone through more marijuana over the past month than I have in
practically the past two years, it has been a pleasure to have them because I
have started to find myself again. One friend, I’ve known for the past six
years, since the end of high school but prior to the start of the military,
pays attention to things far more than I’m used to people paying attention,
particularly about personality traits and the like. He has helped me recognize,
again, who I am. Who I have been. He’s helped me put some of the pieces together.
