being good to me

There is another conference that's been here for the beginning of this week. Siggraph. It's kind of like my two worlds colliding, and I felt a small pang of -- Oh I don't know, it wasn't quite sadness and it wasn't quite jealousy but it was a little of both mixed with nostalgia and relief -- as I watched the designers with their conference name badges and swag bags going down one hall, while I went down the opposite hall. Was a time I'd have been here for that conference instead of this one, and it's a very strange feeling.

I wouldn't go back for anything, but I do miss parts of that life every once in a while.

But then, the book we went through today was the one for which I did most of the drawings and artwork. And the instructor knows, because he wrote it and was the one sending me revisions, and the lady sitting next to me informed him of who I was. So again, two worlds colliding, and I'm so glad I'm in this one now.

I'm halfway through my week, and I'm finally relaxing into it. Sunday ended up being nice, relaxing. Ordered room service, which I've never done before, so that was exciting.

I was going to bring some cloves with me, but a few things got in the way. First, I couldn't find any. I tried two different liquor stores and a drug store, then gave up. I figured I'd find some around here, but haven't. Second, my chest still feels congested from my URI, tight and sore when I cough, so smoking is probably a really stupid idea anyway, even if it weren't for my high bp and IF issues.

Mostly, though? This week is supposed to be about being good to myself, and indulging in such blatantly self-destructive behaviour is not "being good to myself." Monday night I hooked up with a lady who was a little on the large-personality side, and we hit happy hour at the pool. I got wasted, completely and totally shit-faced. To the point that when I came back to my room to shower and change for dinner, I ended up crashing on my bed. I woke up enough to leave her a message so she wouldn't worry about me, but for about two hours I was just trying to keep the room from spinning, and if I'd gotten up to go downstairs I'd probably have passed out, hurled, or both.

And it got the need to just do something stupid out of my system. In a relatively safe environment. And I haven't felt the need to drink too much or smoke at all since. I had a Guinness with dinner tonight, and that's about all I have the desire for.

The weather here is so nice, and my room is so secluded, that I've been sleeping with the sliding door to my balcony wide open. It's been like sleeping outside at the beach, as I listen to the waves crash below and the wind blow through the palm trees. There's even a waterfall down by the pool, which is just under my window. It would be terribly romantic if DH was here, but even without him it just feels almost shamefully luxurious. And it makes waking up in the morning so much more pleasant.

So I'm finding it easier to be good to Me. I'm in my room now at quarter to nine, ready to put on my jammies, turn out the lights, and watch an episode or two of Doctor Who that I burned to my laptop before I left. I've made a couple of sock creatures, I've read a bit, I had a lovely bubble bath by candle light last night. Tomorrow night I have a massage scheduled for after our class, then some of us are getting dressed and heading to the Gaslamp Quarter to see what's happening. Really, it's not a bad way to spend a week.