Thursday, 11/04/2010 - 7:14 p.m.

It's been a helluva month - I've been insanely busy and not all of it's been good.

LadyA is indeed preggers - 8 weeks on Saturday. Amen. I am about halfway finished with the baby bib that I started back in Sept. in hopes she'd get pregnant.

DC's birthday was on the 14th and I got him good. He had called back in August when he was still in D.C. dealing with the house and paperwork crap after his mom died and said "You would not believe all the shit I've found. I found a whole 'nother box of pictures.". So I got a bunch of picture frames (some classy, some artsy-fartsy) and went through all those pictures like a stealth ninja when he was at work or asleep and culled out probably a hundred. Out of that lot, I picked out 7 and framed those. There's one family pic but the rest are his parents - before they got married, as teenagers before they ever met, before DC was born, etc. He cried when he unwrapped them and so did I. I'll never ever be able to top this birthday.

Pride was October 16th and it was, as to be expected, fabulous. I took Nigel and we had a great time. I will buy from Nike and FedEx and that corporate whore Starbucks forever just because they helped sponsor Pride this year. I have a Starbucks green tea lemonade on my desk as I type.

Nigel and I went home to Podunk right after Pride to celebrate his birthday early since he wouldn't be there on his actual birthday. I totally called his parents "Mom" and "Dad" and kissed them hello, good night, and goodbye. Nigel doesn't even do that. Heh. On his actual birthday, since he has a bunny fetish, I dressed up as a bunny. Complete with froo-froo ears, fluffy bow tie, poof-poof tail, shiny satiny corset and shiny satiny gloves, lacy undies, fishnets, and big ol' platform hooker shoes. I knew it was a grand idea when he stopped breathing and then couldn't form a coherent word. Slutty Bunny rocks. I also kicked ass on the presents front - I made him cold fairies. I ordered cold germ plushies and sewed tiny little fairy skirts for them. I also found tiny little pink wands and glued sparkly cloth butterfly wings (that started out life as barrettes) on the back of the skirts. When DC saw them, he said "What if he doesn't get it? What if he thinks they're weird little ballerinas or something?". Heh. Not only did Nigel know what they were, he laughed until he snorted and his sides hurt. Yeah. I'm not going to be able to top this birthday either.

I had screenings for the club out the ass because everyone wanted to be screened for the Black Ball. Holy crap, dude. I was busier than a one-legged whore working both sides of the street. The entire month of October, with a few exceptions, is a giant blur. I did almost nothing except sew our costumes and do screenings. The Auction part of the Ball was fun and I really did enjoy that, but the actual Ball on Saturday sucked ass. It was all me, though - I finally crashed hard on Saturday afternoon and didn't really recover until late Sunday. I was running on about 4 hours-a-night worth of sleep because there was one more thing to sew or one more email to answer or one more dumbass asking stupid questions about the club or one more screening to do. I lost 11 pounds between the 13th and the 28th and not all of it was water weight. I didn't want to be at the party because I knew my store of tact and diplomacy (what little there is) was completely gone and the last thing I wanted to do was be polite to the douchebag-and-creepy-grandpa parade. (And good lord, weren't there a ton of'em!) I was also super-angry with Nigel because he could only do a tiny little bit to get himself ready and the rest fell to me. He was going to be Alice in Wonderland (and I the Red Queen) and Alice had to be shaved from the neck down, made-up, have her finger- and toenails polished, wig styled, and I had to do it all with the whole world in a soft fuzzy haze because my glasses broke early that morning. (Frames broke on the 23rd, got new glasses on the 26th, driving was an adventure.) Yes, I was completely irrational in my anger because it's not his fault he doesn't know how to apply makeup or polish his own nails or shave his legs (and butt and back and man junk) or sew but I was angry anyway. I cried on the way to the club, partly because we were massively late but mainly because I did not want to go. And all I wanted to do when we got there was scream. I think we might have stayed an hour and most of that was standing outside, talking to another member of management over some management BS that had happened that afternoon. I cried part of the way home, too, until we passed 2 ambulances, 2 fire trucks, and about 8 cop cars at the scene of an accident. I said "Whatever happened tonight, we're doing better than who we just passed. You and I are here and safe, DC is still at the party so he's not in that wreck, the Boy is safe up in Knoxvegas, your sister is way the hell down in Florida, my mother and brother are home, and your parents should be home and asleep. All our people are safe and sound; we're ahead of the game." There's nothing like a really bad accident to remind you of what's important.

My and the Boy's 6 year anniversary was the 22nd. He's been working himself into the ground and we haven't gotten to talk much since he started that job but I called and left a voicemail. Heh.

And that brings us up to this past week. My mother finally asked DC to help with her bills, despite my telling her for 6 months we would. I tried to get the mortgage payment book away from her back in August and she wouldn't tell me where it was. I know she had to hear directly from DC's mouth that this was OK by him, but damn, woman.

Nigel and I got to wear our costumes Saturday night and jesus gawd, didn't we look good! Bless DC's girlfriend for giving me a tiny little sewing machine when she did; the costumes would still be unfinished if I had to hand-sew everything. I made the Alice pinafore from scratch, despite knowing shit-all about how to actually sew, I took up the hem in the Alice dress almost to the waist and stuffed the pocket made by the extra material with tulle to make the dress bell out, and trimmed the bottom hem of my skirt with playing card suits made out of felt. I got a fabulous sheer red blouse with big trumpet sleeves to wear under my other shiny black corset (which also fits again) and found playing-card-suit ribbon to use as laces in my ankle boots. All of the "big" pieces of our costumes, except for the corset and undergarments we already had, came from the Salvation Army store. I made a black velvet headband with matching choker and the silky white pinafore from a little girl's party dress found at the kids' thrift store. There's enough velvet left over to make matching wrist and ankle cuffs and the leftover dress parts will end up being a slip and a sheer overskirt. I wore a red-and-black wig that Tina Turner would envy with my mother's tiara smack dab in the middle of it. I sewed the headband right to the Alice wig with the bangs pulled back under it.

The costume shop wanted $55 for a teenager's Alice costume or $65 for an adult's Alice costume, and in both all you got was the dress and either stockings or a petticoat. A plus-size Red Queen costume was $160. I made both costumes (Alice dress, pinafore, Mary Janes for him, skirt and blouse for me, tulle, eyelet lace, felt, stitch witch, and hem tape) for about $55. Kiss my entire ass, you retail bitches. The wigs were $13 apiece and while I'm not sure how long those will hold up, the costumes should last forever as long as we're careful with them.

If my crackhead scale can be believed I've lost 35 pounds so far and it's obvious in my face and neck. I'm such a disproportionately shaped pear that it's difficult to tell by looking at my body if I'm losing weight. My wedding rings are loose and I'm back in my size 22 panties (down from a 28) so both halves are definitely getting smaller.

It's 52 degrees outside and I'm freezing my ass off but when I turned on the heat it set off the smoke detector. So I'm a little concerned about that. I'll just break out the winter jammies and fire up the ol' electric blanket.

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