"Boo, Tornado Season", Health Grumbles and Plotting a Pink 1490's Italian gown

     Today was not a good day for work. The weather report was calling for tornado warnings, so I wasn't as eager to stick to the schedule as usual. It's kind of hard to focus on things like interaction when, at any second, you're going to have to hide in a closet and cover your head and that of a wriggling, confused, upset child. Luckily, no tornados nearby, but I think the air pressure has been affecting both of us. Youngblood has been sluggish and forgetful, as have I. Plus, I have a pressure headache now. Boo.

     On top of that, it's apparently time for my semi-annual fever blister. I've been doctoring it with Herpecin L and a lack of salty, scratchy foods. But, it's still uncomfortable and unpleasant. I feel like I  ought to be shambling around a marketplace in rags with a bell, howling "unclean! Unclean!" I hate mirrors right now. Ah, well, first world problems, I guess. 

     I've been collecting links and such for my pink garb experiments. I don't know if wild European strawberries would dye the same as the cultivated American ones, but I'm going to try over-dyeing the linen with just a little strawberry juice. I'd like a pink that's around this shade or this shade. Definitely more of a rose color than the baby pink it currently is. Coincidentally, the second one is what I'd like to make a Giornea out of, and, adding to the theme of blue and pink (and water and feminine things), have it reverse to this, or this, or maybe this. 

My Latest Obsession: Doctor Who Lolita coords

     So, I've recently gotten a wild hair up my butt about having more Lolita clothes. I'm not sure why. I don't have a lot of places to wear these things. I sure as hell can't wear them to work. Youngblood is a sweet child, but his love of running hell-for-leather through all manner of bracken is murder on clothing. So, I really wanted things I could wear at conventions. It hit me while I was toddling around Spoonflower: Doctor Who Lolita.

      Now, I know that Spoonflower has an awful reputation for fading. Vegan dyes are tricky like that. I've ordered some swatches of the material I want to use and I'm going to try the old "soak them in a mordant" trick. Also, I'm only wearing this skirt (I haven't got the patience to try making a Jumper Skirt just yet) maybe three times a year: MAGfest, Darkover and Shevacon. So, hopefully, that will minimize fading.

   
(Description of Image: The material in question. Blue striped background with a row of jam sandwich cookies and sugar packets, a row of sponge cake on a plate, a fork, a teacup with a banner reading "A Teaspoon and An Open Mind", a spoon, and a pair of crossed sonic screwdrivers, and a last row of sonic screwdrivers, oranges, pocket watches, cream jugs, message cubes and sugar packets.)

     I figure I can extend the life with separates. RedBubble has numerous designs on t-shirts. If I order them big enough, I can tailor them into cut-sews. ThinkGeek has more shirts and sells a "Doctor Whooves" backpack purse that looks like a plush toy (he comes with his own sonic screwdriver and magnets so he can hold them). That, and the SeV cardigan, which, to me, is essentially a TARDIS that can be worn. Etsy, of course, has tons of bags, jewelry, and shirts to use. So, I've been using my other obsession (Polyvore) to assemble coordinates. I feel like the girl in the story who had a hundred dresses, each one a drawing to make up for what I don't have.

Doctor Who T-shirts by brennalarose featuring vintage rock tees

Adventures in ACA--Behavioral Health and Coverage

     Let me start with a confession: I am a dirty Liberal. Within reason, of course. I eat a lot of things that are bad for me (Vanilla Coke, I love thee, though thy sugary, carbonated goodness makes me puffy and sluggish). I shop at Wal-Mart (I'm a broke-ass American). I believe that Gun Control is both hands on your piece and only aiming at what you absolutely mean to shoot. That being said, I love "Obamacare".

     I know very little about being an independent adult, but I am willing to learn. So, once the spouse and I were signed up for affordable health care, I made damn sure to get control of my health care. First things first, mental health. It's been about two years since I've seen a MHP, give or take a couple of months. My medication isn't working any more (the depression is getting worse, rather than better), and I could really do with a sleep aid that isn't antihistamines and hope. So, yesterday, I called up my insurance and asked for a few numbers I could call.

     I noticed first that I could barely understand the person on the other end. The accent wasn't one I couldn't puzzle out, and they weren't really mumbling, they were just talking faster than I could process. Just a nitpick, I guess. Also, the prompts on the menu to get Spanish help were in terribly pronounced Spanish. I speak just enough Spanish to know that. The call center person did ask me if I'd prefer a male or female psychiatrist, or if I didn't care, so well done on that front. There are things I'm not sure I can discuss with a male psychiatrist. I got three numbers, all very nearby where I live. 

     The issue we ran into was when I wanted an estimate of coverage. My coverage, it seems, doesn't start until May 1st. So, no estimate. Annoying, but I guess it could be worse. I'm going to have to muddle through until then.

Today's Health: I didn't sleep well last night, so I'm really tired. This is a week when I can't stretch out on a sofa and nap until I have to fetch Youngblood; I have him all day. I get tomorrow off and I plan on sleeping in. I love my husband, I know we have a date, but if he wakes me before 10 AM, I'm going to smack him with a shoe.

Sleep=HAH--Nope.

     I really like those Lunesta commercials. You know, the ones with the delicate little Luna Moth fluttering in slow-mo over people as they softly drift off to sleep. I wish I could relate.

     Insomnia and I are old acquaintances. I can't say "friends". No, Insomnia is like that one person in sitcoms, who busts in at the worst moment, often uninvited, makes a damn nuisance of themselves and seems to exist for wacky hi-jinx. The family tolerates Insomnia, who arrives in a cloud of overly-warm nights and snoring humans, and rouses them to flop around like a beached fish in bed, fussing with covers, counting sheep and wondering if it's worth it to go warm up some milk. She drags them to work, barely conscious, and vanishes, right when you need to stay awake. Then, she returns around 9:00 PM, dragging a guinea hen named Ferdinand and a badly-tuned lute. She might leave around sunrise the next morning, but the damage is done.

     Usually, I chase Insomnia out with a few Unisom. But, the trouble is, two Unisom can escalate to horking down the bottle and doing the chinchilla dust bath dance until 6:00 AM. So, I'm trying to cut back, especially on weekends. This weekend, I have no LARPs or long car trips to wear me out. I have ignored the bottle of jewel-like, peacock blue gel caps on my nightstand. I have struggled to wear myself out, while maintaining enough stamina to do housework when the rest of the house is awake. Yet, here I am, giving up at 4:15 AM, and waffling on that precipice called "too tired to sleep".

     I don't know if it's my brain, addled by a lower serotonin level than is healthy. I don't know if I sleep too much. Maybe I drink too much caffeine. Whatever it is, I wish it would stop. I wish I could write Insomnia's wacky self off to Idaho to raise guinea fowl, or study the lute in Finland, or marry her off to some billionaire in Taipei, who is charmed by her whimsy and good-natured intrusiveness. Insomnia can write, or maybe visit when there's a nightclub that needs livening up or a project that needs finishing right the hell now.

     But, right now, Insomnia? Could you please take Ferdy and the lute and your adorably garish fashion sense back home? I'm trying to catch a slo-mo Luna Moth.