how extremes can lead to exclusivity (in a negatory way)

I tend to go at my efforts in the extreme. Pendulum-swinging, if you will, which is apparently a stickier habit than I expected or would prefer. This is either a worldwide problem, or it exists only in my own life. Regardless of which it is, here we are, dealing with it. Balance probably doesn't actually exist.

Tonight is about drinking a gin and tonic out of an Irish coffee glass pedestal mug. I hope the Brits and the Irish are on good terms, because I'd hate to upset them by using pieces of their cultures simultaneously, making them play nice together.

My fiance is performing an experiment with a penny on the floor. 

I'm currently reading a book by a woman who is like me. I don't feel so alone. There are entries with dates in the headers. One of the dates is my birthday, which is exciting and a little intimidating. I hope it is a good entry, and can't help but wonder (as always) if it's going to have some epiphany for my life in its pages.

Recently at a thrift store, I made a rather pleasant purchase: two low-ball cocktail glasses with an Old-English-style 'N' on each one. I don't know who they belonged to, or what or who 'N' stands for, but I'll come up with something. My barkeep tool kit is slowly coming together. I also bought a crocheted potholder in the shape of a strawberry. It is bright as a poppy, and makes me very happy.

Right now I am wearing a soft, loosely-fitted t-shirt with soot-colored stripes and ash-colored stripes - tiny ones, very close together. My shorts are mid-length and cut-off and have some small white paint splatters, which is nice because they remind me of days I was painting. I feel like a Tom Sawyer. Upon considering what kind of shoes I would wear with this ensemble, I realized that I really, really don't want to wear any shoes. I should be in a creek, scavenging for newts and dragonflies. This is a far cry from the plethora of pencil skirts, oxford shirts and constant pump shoes that reign over my every day on the job. I've found it difficult to dress casually since I really started taking my professional dress seriously. It's that extremes thing again. Even for a simple brunch with my sister, I couldn't seem to keep out of a vintage plaid pencil skirt and leather sandal heels (there were yellow-striped socks as well, which is kind of being casual, but not really). What is the matter???

Casual dress is absolutely necessary for my well-being on an occasional basis at least. I just feel different. More human. I used to be good at the relaxed look. And with a good forcing of practice, I will master it again. Tonight feels like a good start, and hopefully it will stick like a glove-fit friendship: we don't see or speak to each other all the time, but when we do, we pick right up where we left off.

This post feels very much like myself, very much like home, and I like that.


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