Bitter Sweet Weekend

It was a bitter sweet weekend. On Saturday, my best friend was married at Derbyshire Ren Faire. As happy as I was for her, I was sad too. My roommate, Nancy, died in January just before the Lunar New Year. Nancy was my friend's aunt. She wanted to see them married, hoped for it, but never made it.

Our Blessing -- I hope their marriage is blessed in every way, that they remember that marriage is work, it takes two on all things. I hope that whatever challenges come their way, they hold fast to each other and to their beliefs.

I know Nancy wanted the same for them. To see my friend, her niece, happy and loved. Protected and cared for.

Many years of blessed happiness my friends.

Really Sucky Weekends

This is going to be one of those really sucky weekends. I know it is. I can tell, because, really, I want a drink. A lot of them. We were at Derbyshire Ren Faire today shooting video for the commericial. The part of my brain that realizes and recognizes what days are and what holidays are coming, knew that tomorrow was Father's Day, but didn't quite register it all the way. On the way from the Swords of Valour /Kingdom of Asmiria Fight List with one of the SOV's fighter's for the last shot for the commerical, he and my two companions were talking about dad's. How their (my 2 female companions) dad's were basically all whacked out and over protective. And then how he (the fighter) had planned things for his daughter. And the only thing I could think about was how much I missed my dad. I hid behind a tree and cried for a bit. Then the director came over and asked what was wrong. He understands (the whole been there, gone through that thing) but, I dry my eyes, put on my nothings-wrong-ignore-the-emotions-it's-time-to-work-attitude and face, come out from behind the tree, grab my gear (boom operator and production manager -- it's heavy gear), and am ready to go. Only one person knows of my breakdown. Everything is well. I don't cry any more. I probably will tomorrow. I might. I don't know. I'm having a wine cooler tonight even though I know better. One of my rules -- never drink when you're (me) is in a highly emotional state. It's not a lot of alcohol. But I don't drink under normal circumstances, so this is a lot, and something I probably shouldn't do, but I will remember, because I'm not going to get drunk. Just relaxed. I miss my dad. A lot. The other day I wanted to call and verify my lasagna recipe with him and ask about his cheese soup recipe and the mini-bran muffins he used to make. Had the phone almost in hand. Took his number out of memory. Had to. Hurts. Lots. It's ironic in a way, that Derbyshire opened Father's Day weekend. Because it was my dad who took me to the Michigan Ren Faire when I was 12 or 13. I remember the jousts and the brightly colored boothes and garbed men walking around gnawing on huge turkey legs. He is at least partly responsible for my love of history and faires.

Unreasonable Fear

It'd be wonderful if I could escape from the unreasonable fear that grips me every once and a while. Shoot, it'd be great not to go through it in the first place. But it happens. Every time we go to the doctor for something other than routine. Like yesterday when I took my DD to the doctor because Friday she had a pimple, plus hair where there wasn't any, and back pain. Again. Urinalysis came out normal. So did the microscopic one. Yesterday it was blood work. To check for the presence of sex hormones. And to check for kidney function. Or more likely -- failing kidneys. So, once again I'm scared. And I shouldn't be. She's an athlete. Injuries happen. She's growing up (whetherI want her to or not). But, really, I'm not ready for her to be starting with puberty. She's 7. It truly sucks when fear and doubt creep in. I suppose I should get used to it. I just don't want to.