icprncs | Reading

minim_calibre very kindly came over yesterday to help me run some errands AND slowly pootle around two thrift stores. There wasn’t anything worthwhile at Value Village, which is sadly becoming the norm. Well, there were some dresses that could have been turned into something interesting, but I stuck to my clothing no-buy. PRAISE ME.

The other thrift store was The Discovery Shop, which is a small nonprofit for the American Cancer Society. It’s a few blocks from my house, which means that once I’m healthy I need to make more of an effort to walk up there on a regular basis. Because, as with most smaller, charity-specific thrift stores, the selection is much better. I bought two pieces of jewelry: a crystal necklace with an antique skeleton key pendant (minim handed it to me, saying, “This belongs to you”), and a vintage belled bracelet, because I want to return to jingling when I walk. I pined over a huge blown glass candelabra with multiple arms, but acknowledged that I ha no place to put it. But my god, it was stunning.

I learned that both The Discovery Shop and Value Village have “senior discount days” on Tuesdays, and that “senior” is 55+! Time to schedule a regular thrifting day!

All of the excitement of leaving the house took its toll, however, and I’m absolutely exhausted today. Plus I’m starting a new round of different antibiotics, because my symptoms returned once I finished the first round. Thank goodness that my preferred urgent care clinic offers telehealth appointments.

jeliza

( Cut for discussion of dying. )

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I'm starting to seriously consider selling my VINTAGE Fluevog Swordfish shoes and boots. I love them. LOVE. I never wear them, because even tho' the 3" heel are wide and sturdy, my back has made it pretty clear that those shoes and boots are not made for walking. Not for me.

I'm tempted to hold onto the boots so I can use them as vases for dried flowers (I can't find the image on Pinterest, but I saw something similar done and it looked great), but I will first need to have a probably convoluted discussion with the Stroppy One about putting outdoor footwear on any furniture, even after they've been carefully cleaned. (His weirdness around this is too long to get into here, but it starts from a superstition around not putting footwear on chairs or tables.)

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INCREDIBLY shallow whining related to the state of the world (because if I start thinking seriously about things, I freeze in panic): I guess I should have purchased the pretty pretty dress from the Ukrainian designer earlier, because who knows if the $USD will be worth anything and if anyone outside the US will be willing to ship anything to a US address.

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I need help from the sewing and costuming hive mind! I have a many dresses like this. (Mine don't have the wide sash/belt.) The skirt is two rectangles gathered at the waist, with the pockets inset at those side seams. I want to occasionally lift the skirt to about knee-length so I can wear the dress with different skirts. I've tried actual skirt lifters, and they didn't work well. I tried ribbons sewn on the outside of the waist with matching ribbons sewn on the inside at the point where the ruffle is attached to the skirt, thus catching a bundle of the skirt in a loop of ribbon that shows on the outside. (The Madwoman in the Attic saw this attempt, clutched her head, said, "NO", and left the room.) So I'm out of ideas. Help?

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Behold the shiny! Which was almost entirely paid for by Poshmark profits, so in terms of “real” money wasn’t unreasonably expensive.

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My god does my hair need dying. It’s not going to happen any time soon, but I sigh every time I look in the mirror right now. There are so many projects I want to do right now, and I KNOW I must not. Even the ones that would be something I could do while sitting on the couch watching movies. Getting up to put on a movie leaves me shaky, which is a sure sign I need to keep resting. Hmmph.

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Yesterday I learned that Miss Erzabet No Biting has blanket preferences. I had switched around some of the blankets I was under on the couch, with a polyester knitted one on top. She would walk onto my lap, look bewildered, and hop off. As soon as I switched things back to having the woven cotton ones as the top layer, she immediately settled down. Yes, my cat is spoiled.

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Speaking of the kitties, they turn 15 this year, which means we’ve owned them for almost half our marriage. That’s weird to think about.

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It has been decided that I’m NOT going to buy that stripy set from Blackwood Castle, because minim linked me to an eBay auction for a stunning piece of jewelry and reminded me that stripy goth clothes are relatively easy to find. I’m waiting for my Poshmark profits to hit PayPal, and then I’ll hit Buy It Now.

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The Stroppy One has decided it’s necessary for him to remind me over and over that my #1 priority, my only chore right now, is to rest as much as possible. Especially because he leaves for a show on Thursday, so he won’t be around to look after me for a few days. Yes, the Madwoman in the Attic will be around, but our schedules are somewhat offset.

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Someone please remind me that my new boss asking if we need to set up some sort of medical accommodation for me for the next few weeks means she wants me to be okay, not that she’s annoyed I’m sick and this will be noted on my permanent record or something? Because I know my reaction is PTSD from previous bad managers, but the Brain Raccoons are doing their little song and dance, because of course they are.

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I was worried about ordering that striped top and skirt from Blackwood Castle since, as they’re in Canada and who knows what the tariff fuckery would be. But I did some digging through their site and discovered they opened a US warehouse in August! Between that and the fact that I sold some things on Poshmark recently, yeah, I’m probably going to buy the set.

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Fandom whining: I know fic writers are doing their own thing, but it’s always sad when a writer I’ve subscribed to migrates to a fandom I don’t care about, sometimes abandoning their other works in progress. Le sigh.

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I think the new prescriptions are kicking in. I’m not coughing quite as much, and the Stroppy One said my breathing overnight didn’t sound as wet and crackling. I still get exhausted any time I get up from the couch AND I’m jittery from the steroids, but I’m pretty sure I’ll be able to sit in my office and get work done on Tuesday.

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Women of a Certain Age will understand this: with violent coughing comes the need for constantly changing pads, and I’m so tired of it.

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As is traditional for me when I’m sickly enough that all I should do is rest, I have thought of at least five different craft projects I want to do. I have written them down in my fancy planner, so I’ll remember them for when I’m healthier. I may stagger upstairs to grab the supplies for the easiest one and slowly work on it.

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Miss Erzabet No Biting is doing her very best to nursemaid me and keep me pinned to the couch, but is startled every time I have a bout of coughing. I don’t blame her, because I find it pretty alarming, too. I know it’s only day two of the antibiotics and higher dose of prednisone, but I don’t feel any better yet and I’m frustrated about it.

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I’m still pining over this goddamn striped dress from Selkie. There’s one in my size on Mercari, and if it’s still available in a month I’m going to consider breaking my no-buy for clothing to get it. Of course, if I had any sense I’d soothe my coveting with either this dress from Dracula clothing or this set from Blackwood Castle.

… Oh dear, the Blackwood castle set is on sale.

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I’m still am suffering bronchitis. I did some digging in MyChart, because I’ve suffered this bronchitis thing at least once a year for the past few years, and mine and Mr. Loomy’s suspicions were correct: the clinic doctor I saw over the weekend, who was abrupt and didn’t listen to either of us, prescribed me less than half of the dosage of prednisone that I’ve had previously. No wonder I’m not getting better. I went back to the clinic last night, and while the (different!) doctor didn’t say anything bad about what his coworker did, his facial expression made his opinion clear. I’m now on a massive dosage of prednisone that slowly tapers and antibiotics. I tapped out from work again; look, me trying to be better about self care!

If I’m going to be a sickly invalid, I want laudanum. And a trip to the seaside where someone will push me around in a fancy wheelchair. Then more laudanum.

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Yesterday I turned off the Ask Anonymously option on my Tumblr. I’ve been inundated with spam, porn bots, and unkind-to-hateful messages, and I don’t have the spoons to deal with any of it.

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Discussion about the upcoming movie adaptation of Wuthering Heights is really heating up over in Tumblr-land, and I, for one, am here for it. I respect the novel's place in the canon of gothic literature, but I don't feel the need to ever reread it. But the upcoming movie looks like it's going to be a gloriously unhinged trashfire, and I'm kinda looking forward to it.

A quote from the director, which gives you a good idea of what we're in for:

"When it came to making the film, Fennell, 39, said: "I wanted to make something that was the book that I experienced when I was 14".
She suggested that some of her risque additions are things she thought she had remembered from reading the book as a teenager -- but weren't actually in there when she returned to it.
"It's where I filled in the gaps aged 14", she said with a smile, adding that making the film had allowed her to "see what it would feel like to fulfil my 14-year-old-wish, which is both good and bad".

I am kinda impressed that she was able to get a studio to give her money so she could do this.

Oh! And the costumes! MY GOD, THE COSTUMES.