Don’t stop believin’, a lip dub for FunkyPlaid.

Screencap from Don't Stop Believin' Lipdub
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After 299 emails, 5.09 GB of movies, weeks of very little sleep, and so much iMovie-bashing, I present my birthday gift for FunkyPlaid, a lip dub of Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believin'”.

Thanks so much to everyone who participated, who lent moral support, who tolerated my dithering over the choice of song, and especially to the Gamescape crew who stealthily set everything up to show him the video at the store tonight.

(He was floored.)

I regret not being able to include more of everyone. There was just too much rock for one video.

procrastination day

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So today I read about 300 pages in “Twilight”, washed the bathroom floor, scrubbed the toilet and sink and part of the shower, did the dishes, organized presents, edited some poetry, and wrote two holiday cards. That’s all: two cards. I have no idea how I am going to get these out before New Year’s.

Saturdays make me a little wiggidy, to be honest. I usually feel guilty for having the day off because FunkyPlaid doesn’t. Today he and just one other employee ran the whole store, open to close. After FunkyPlaid got home, he collapsed on the bed and didn’t even stay awake for the scotch I poured him. Torgi jumped up, curled up, and that was that.

I believe that is about to be that for me, too.

chapter two

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There are so many words and photographs I want to share with you about Scotland, but I am a perfectionist and so those will take a while to percolate.  Yet something monumental happened during our trip, and I do not want to wait any longer to share it.

When I shared it with a friend yesterday, he told me how happy he was for me, “…particularly remembering where you were, lifewise, less than two years ago. Things Get Better. A lesson for us all.”

Things Get Better, better than I had ever hoped. This beautiful ring from my beloved symbolizes the start of our second chapter, during which we prepare to become husband and wife.

engagement ring

domino effect

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I gave up and ordered a new camera battery charger. The old one must be somewhere, but I have no time before our upcoming trip to Scotland to sort through all of my boxes. Believe me, there will be some serious purging of useless belongings happening when I return.

My handy countdown widget tells me that only 23 days remain until our trip. It is so paltry to say that I am excited to see this beloved country, this heart-home of my beloved, and to meet and re-meet friends far away. I am beyond excited. Every time I read a page in a guidebook I start bouncing in my chair and have to put it down.

I know that no small part of my excitement stems from a frantic need to be Not-Here for a short time. Living in San Francisco has become exhausting, and because this is such an amazing city I know my fuse must be particularly short.  I have not had a proper vacation, even a weekend getaway, in almost a year.  I also admit some weariness around the subject of American politics.

So I avoided the topic as much as possible over the weekend.  FunkyPlaid and I actually had an entire weekend to ourselves, and it was excellent, only marred by the news of David Foster Wallace’s death. Others have been much more eloquent than I could be, than I have tried to be multiple times tonight in eulogy.

This perfectionist phase of writing silence does not suit me. In part, I am paranoid because I know that not everyone reading this thinks well of me, and so instead of inciting critique for whichever turn of phrase I keep silent.  We then encounter the usual “you can’t control what other people think of you” argument, which leads me quickly to the “yes but why NOT” denial, usually appended with “especially when I haven’t done anything to THEM” tantrum.

That doesn’t matter. None of it matters. What you think of me, what I think of you — in the grand and happy quilt of meaning, we’re not even stitches.  I don’t write here to be loved; I write here because I am compelled to connect through words. If our connection involves your loathing or disdain, so be it.  It is what it is, and nothing more.

And to think this all began with a lost piece of technology.