stitchwhich (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
stitchwhich) wrote2007-06-23 06:55 pm
stitchwhich) wrote2007-06-23 06:55 pm
Well that was embarrassing...
Have you ever had one of those periods of time where you feel just a bit out of touch with everything around you? Where you spend more time sleeping than doing much of anything else? Yeah.
So this weekend is our baronial birthday. Was I any help? No. Didn't feel well, was fighting off an infection, didn't want to move. I sat the troll by myself just to (mostly) stay out of the way. But as the afternoon passed, I was feeling more the thing and started looking forward to heralding court. This is what is known as "The Divine Set-up". Yes, the line following this would be "and now I'll just turn in my Herald's Card". Urg.
See, I'm menopausal. And for the most part, I'm thrilled to be at that stage of life. But that also means that the handy "how to tell when your menses will come" birth control pills are no longer a part of my health regime. And this is cool, when periods are months apart and light. Not so cool when they come upon one quickly and unexpectedly with symptoms closer to miscarriage than anything else. Yes, my friends who were brave enough to read past the cut, there was a sudden onset of extreme emotional roller-coasting, incoherency, all the brain-power of a gecko, and painful waves of gut-rolling cramps complete with a surprise serving of the type of bleeding that makes "Super Plus" mean "will last 20 minutes - if you don't laugh or tense up". Court was longer than 20 minutes. Mostly because I was (did I mention?) incoherent and brainless. Ever try to gain control of a flustering mind and quite public mein when you are flashing back to how it feels to the start of childbirth? Yeah. Special.
So I flubbed my friends' court and our friends' awards.
And my clothing ended up - well, if the Oxy-clean works, not ruined - but if it doesn't, that's one set of hand-stitched, embroidered garb that will be staining rags for Arni's woodworking projects.
Oh, and then there was the crying on my husband for no reason whatsoever immediately following the destruction of my clothing. Which was not nearly as embarrassing as blowing my work as court herald. I have never, ever blown a court that badly. Ever.
I'm home now. I left my friends and family as they were getting ready to eat a scrumptious 3-course feast and I drove home. I'm showered now, medicated, and my clothes are in the washing machine. Calz Chicken Wings has been called and I'll soon be comfort-fooding myself through a chapter or two of a good book and then I'm going to wrap myself around a heating pad and go to bed.
With luck, this will pass by morning so I can at least help tear down the camp and hear the stories about the fun they had this evening. There's bardic entertainment during feast that should continue through the evening and since it's a wet site, I'm sure everyone will have a lovely time.
But damn, I am still turning in my Herald's Card.
So this weekend is our baronial birthday. Was I any help? No. Didn't feel well, was fighting off an infection, didn't want to move. I sat the troll by myself just to (mostly) stay out of the way. But as the afternoon passed, I was feeling more the thing and started looking forward to heralding court. This is what is known as "The Divine Set-up". Yes, the line following this would be "and now I'll just turn in my Herald's Card". Urg.
See, I'm menopausal. And for the most part, I'm thrilled to be at that stage of life. But that also means that the handy "how to tell when your menses will come" birth control pills are no longer a part of my health regime. And this is cool, when periods are months apart and light. Not so cool when they come upon one quickly and unexpectedly with symptoms closer to miscarriage than anything else. Yes, my friends who were brave enough to read past the cut, there was a sudden onset of extreme emotional roller-coasting, incoherency, all the brain-power of a gecko, and painful waves of gut-rolling cramps complete with a surprise serving of the type of bleeding that makes "Super Plus" mean "will last 20 minutes - if you don't laugh or tense up". Court was longer than 20 minutes. Mostly because I was (did I mention?) incoherent and brainless. Ever try to gain control of a flustering mind and quite public mein when you are flashing back to how it feels to the start of childbirth? Yeah. Special.
So I flubbed my friends' court and our friends' awards.
And my clothing ended up - well, if the Oxy-clean works, not ruined - but if it doesn't, that's one set of hand-stitched, embroidered garb that will be staining rags for Arni's woodworking projects.
Oh, and then there was the crying on my husband for no reason whatsoever immediately following the destruction of my clothing. Which was not nearly as embarrassing as blowing my work as court herald. I have never, ever blown a court that badly. Ever.
I'm home now. I left my friends and family as they were getting ready to eat a scrumptious 3-course feast and I drove home. I'm showered now, medicated, and my clothes are in the washing machine. Calz Chicken Wings has been called and I'll soon be comfort-fooding myself through a chapter or two of a good book and then I'm going to wrap myself around a heating pad and go to bed.
With luck, this will pass by morning so I can at least help tear down the camp and hear the stories about the fun they had this evening. There's bardic entertainment during feast that should continue through the evening and since it's a wet site, I'm sure everyone will have a lovely time.
But damn, I am still turning in my Herald's Card.