First Vlog Post — FAIL (amongst more)

Look at what is not happening:

There must be something inherently wrong with the video I made as my Yarn Witch Intro or my internet connection or the computer I am using or, ALL OF THE ABOVE.  I filmed Saturday and to date, I have been completely unable to upload or save the footage past the 81-82% mark.  It’s October.  It could be an omen since I am so paranoid about videos of my face.

 

I am not finished trying to make videos, but I am finished with that one.  It was not meant to be.  I do have a different computer to work with and can give it a try, but not tonight.  I WILL have crochet videos on my blog…  *waves hands emphatically*

The video was something to focus on.  I am feeling scattered.  Doing research for my Samhain presentation for the UU on the 30th, working with a friend bottling mugwort oil (more on that another day), and being moral support slash go-fer for Lady Autumn Mist as she struggles with empty nest apartment renovation on top of my regularly scheduled programming is a bit much.  But I’m happy and living in the moment and actually practicing magic instead of just talking about it.  I am having real people conversations about all my stuffs that I love.  And I am getting a HOME!  Waiting to find out when Closing Day will be.  Could be up to two weeks.  Lots of anxiety and excitement flickering all around me.

My hormones and libido are roller-coasting because of all the activity in life [and peri-menopause].  I feel alive. My blood is pumping.  I’m horny all the damned time.  {hot flashing, dizzying, night sweating horny}  And frankly, I am a bit of a bear when it comes to getting my rocks off, so to speak.  Hateful even.  But I still do not let that come between Hubby and me.  My HoneyBunny and I are honest, probably to a fault, and sometimes we have to “argue it out” to get to the place I need to be.  And we did a wee bit of that this past week.  After arguing it out and having a few days to get my feet under me, I was in a very happy place and I unabashedly flirted with and came-onto an old sexual acquaintance (who is still a dear friend) only to be told in no uncertain terms that if I am making advances it will lead to a bad place in my life and I should probably discuss this with my counselor and my psych-meds doctor because my medicine may need to be adjusted. What the Holiest of Fucks?

Backstory, according to him, is that when he was with me the first time it caused great turmoil in my life and marriage, the second time was at the time of my mental break and vacation to jail, so if I was making indecent proposals to him then I must be on the precipice of some horrible event about to happen in my life and therefore, fix my meds.  *facepalm*

After I came home, I skyped with HoneyBunny, relaying the above encounter.  And I have come to the conclusion that I need a tramp stamp tattoo with the word “Psycho-Cunt” because that is how I felt after the encounter with my former lover.  If I wanted sex, then I must be off my rocker.  And while this does hurt my feelings, I kinda wish I could have come up with “Psycho-Cunt” during my encounter and made it clear what I felt.  Snarky comebacks and hurtful self-labeling are entirely useless hours after the fact.

Sorry, World, if I only wanted a little semi-strange to curb the unholy appetites of the onset of menopause.  I tend to navigate back to the familiar and comfortable.  So, maybe that is what I am doing wrong.  I really do need to clean the slate and I haven’t quite figured out how to do that.  I am hoping as I transition into my forever home [like the adopted mutt that I am] that I will be able to dig my feet in and really start my life over mostly from scratch and with a lot of help from family and friends with HoneyBunny by my side the entire way.  Oh, and lots of “house christening”….

Mahalo.

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