It was a day of merely minor problems, yet somewhat overwhelming in its entirety.
Nothing dramatically bad happened, but enough of the little things went wrong to put a damper on Kevin’s birthday. Spilled coffee with a broken cup, calls from whomever was working at the Hotel, the absence of necessary ingredients for the birthday dinner… One little thing after another, until it was obvious that he was not enjoying his birthday. It didn’t feel like a birthday at all. And to top it all off, my yeast infection even meant no birthday whoopee. We tried to rent a movie, but the download was so slow it was obvious that we wouldn’t be able to watch it last night. What movie could be worth a four or five hour download? I think I will encourage him to take a week off now that business is slowing down. He just seriously needs time to decompress. What a year this has been! Even if he could only wrangle a three day weekend, I think it’s important for him to get away from all of the stress, for a little while. Kevin had started on the birthday cake in the wee hours of his birthday morning, and we decided that mid-afternoon was the time to indulge in cake and ice cream. The unfortunate thing about that was that ice cream in the middle of the day threw Mom completely off schedule. She went to bed after eating it.
It must have been a combination of confusion from the wrong time on her talking clock, and the change in normal routine. Thankfully, Kevin figured out how to change the time, and today we should be able to start getting her back on track with the time. I spoke to my sister yesterday about Mom coming down to Oregon for the Christmas holidays, and she was thrilled. Mom gave an uncertain thumbs up as well, so now its just a matter of working out the logistics. It will be the first time Kevin and I have been alone together at home for nearly a year. Not that it will be all fun and games, I have another surgery to go through during that time. But I will be able to relax and just rest, without having to worry about Mom. Just the thought of it makes me practically giddy with excitement. The luxury of being able to say, “What would I like to do today?” is one I can barely remember, at this point. I could take Einie to the beach anytime I want, go shopping with no one in tow, and even visit with friends. We could go out to dinner, or play billiards at the Old Consulate Inn with friends. When this journey is finally over, I will have to get to know people all over again. It will, after all, be the new me. And as it turns out, I may not have to give up my corsets for Steampunk, since I’ll be still sporting some cleavage. Which reminds me…it’s about time to start working on the next outfit.
I’m thinking of taking all of my medical braces and devices, adding leather and embellishments, and attaching various weapons. I’ve been in warrior mode since the beginning of the whole Boobygate…thing, so I may as well reflect that in my costume. Besides, folks have come to expect something new and fabulously strange from me each year. I try to please. I want to start thinking of something for Einstein to wear, too. Maybe I can train him to hold a pipe…I’m thinking something along the lines of Sherlock Holmes. Maybe just a monocle and hat…Steampunk is the one thing all year that I really want to participate in. Six months or so to prepare for three days of congenial madness, sign me up. The thespian in me revels in having a whole, real Victorian town to go and play in with a Neo-Victorian theme. It’s times like these when my gratitude for all who have worked to preserve the unique nature of our town reaches a peak. I don’t mind driving an hour to shop at a big box store, as long as we preserve the character of the Port. It is rare to have a Victorian seaport so well preserved. The courthouse and post office have been in continuous use since they were built in the eighteen hundreds, as a courthouse and post office. Victorian architecture is evident throughout the town, with lovingly restored and maintained homes, some of which are now bed and breakfasts. It doesn’t seem strange at all to see someone in Victorian attire conversing with a busker, or leading groups of tourists in modern dress. Both seem to exist in the same space with no conflict, and time-along with its laws-is suspended, here.