The deleted scene is not as complete as I'd like, so I'll be fleshing it out a bit today - and I need Adam to show me how to make my playlist into one file so I can send it to sponsors via MegaUpload. I have not forgotten you.
There've been a lot of things this week I wanted to do, but they've involved a series of buses and trains, and I get nervous about being out so close to Last Bus. If I'm at a late concert and one bus is ten minutes late, considering the combination of buses and trains I have to take, I could be stranded overnight. Or paying a lot for a taxi.
Solution? I dunno. When I see that I may be out close to Last Bus, I'm poking about for in-town crashspace, just in case. But I swear I feel like a shut-in sometimes, and it makes me cranky. (This post brought to you by two things I wanted to do last night and three tonight.)
State of the 'songbody
I'm pretty sure I've just gone from size 6 to size 4; my jeans are loose enough. Will have to dig up my 4s.
Yes, I was a 14 this time last year.
This whole process is incredibly weird. I said late this summer that I felt like I was in a time-lapse video, the way my body was reshaping; not just losing fat, but building muscle, in a seemingly-accelerated way.
Now I look at myself and - I look Photoshopped.
Seriously. I see lean angles when I am accustomed to seeing curves. I see parts of myself smaller and shaped differently. It is outright bewildering at times, this feeling of surprise and disconnection.
(Which is why I need to go dancing more; it's one of the three things that actually grounds me in my body.)
And it weirds me out because I am accustomed to my body scanning as womanly and, at present, to me, it scans as more girlish. And after these years, girlbody feels alien to me.
The Red Rider: Red leather, red moss, and balsam.
In bottle: That is very red, yes! And leathery!
On me: The balsam lends a bit of sweetness to the leather. This is a sexy man small. <3
The Black Rider: Black leather, oppoponax, tobacco, and black amber.
In bottle: Dark dark dark. And not much throw. This thing has an event horizon.
On me: Very dark indeed. Murky. That would be the oppoponax. Not picking up the tobacco, but definitely getting the rest of it.
Baba Yaga: Spell-soaked herbs and flowers, cold iron, broom twigs, bundles of moss and patchouli root, and moth dust.
In bottle: Soft herbal with a base of patchouli.
On me: OH HAI PATCHOULI
The Sea Foams Blood: Blood rising through an ocean wave.
In bottle: My, that's... acrid.
On me: Aquatic + blood note = not for me, clearly.
I need to make that master to-do list and then knock as many things off it as I can before my Clothesline Project meeting at 4. Tonight, a choice of stuff to do if I can get there and back.