Well, it was warmer than last year (not that it was that hard to be warmer - but this year, we had no frost on the ground in the morning) and I didn't get sunstroke, so it was a good year.
I finally, finally got the last two quals I needed to be an MIT! So now, I'm qualled in single foil/epee, dagger and rigid parry. So I can use my buckler.
More importantly - I can now use The Irritation!* Muwhahahahaha!!!!
Okay, had to get that out of my system.
So I'm now an MIT (or I will be, as soon as Jack the Black sends me the information I need, hint, hint) and can start working on getting my marshallate. I think I'm going to MIT some of the battles at Pennsic - Jocelyn del Espada suggested this, and it sounds like a great idea. I don't really want to do any schlager until I get my new kit assembled, and I need a steel gorget anyways, so this gives me a chance to experience the battles without having to worry about getting schlager-qualled first.
We'll see.
I've also been thinking a lot about death lately. I know, I know - I'm a dark fantasy/horror writer, but this is different. In the past year or so, I've had a LOT of deaths around me, and I've started to really wonder what does happen to us after we're gone. I don't know that I can just "believe" in an afterlife. I'm too much of a reporter to suspend my disbelief that far. And yet, I'm pagan. The idea of a cycle is something that I find comfort in. How much do we remember, though? How much of "Val" will remain when I die?
What brought this out? Perhaps it's because it's Memorial Day, a day when we remember and honor those who died for our freedoms. Perhaps it was the horrific car accident that
argus7hills and I passed on the way home yesterday. Perhaps it was just that even now, nearly 8 months later, I still come home and start to look for Max sometimes, and I still cry when I realize he won't be there.
We left the kittens home alone this weekend for the first time, and when we came back, Sebastian assured me that he thought I was gone forever. I was in the bathtub, stroking his head as he lay on the rug next to the tub, and I assured him I would always come back. But I can't really promise that, can I? I don't know anymore. And it bothers me, more than I can say.
I need to work through this. I don't know what to believe or where to turn anymore. I'm just not sure how to work through it. I don't like just turning everything over to a "higher power" - I have a problem with authority (blame it on my McFarland blood). Maybe that's why I write the kind of things I write - because I need to explain to myself what really goes on after we pass away.
Okay, didn't mean to get all maudlin on you all. I'll save my X-Men 3 critique for another post - suffice it to say, I enjoyed it, and if you go and see it, stay ALL the way through the credits. It's worth it.
*The Irritation is one of those Frodo Sting swords - it goes "sching!" every time you swing it. It's annoying as hell. It's also list-legal for rigid parry. *evil grin*
I finally, finally got the last two quals I needed to be an MIT! So now, I'm qualled in single foil/epee, dagger and rigid parry. So I can use my buckler.
More importantly - I can now use The Irritation!* Muwhahahahaha!!!!
Okay, had to get that out of my system.
So I'm now an MIT (or I will be, as soon as Jack the Black sends me the information I need, hint, hint) and can start working on getting my marshallate. I think I'm going to MIT some of the battles at Pennsic - Jocelyn del Espada suggested this, and it sounds like a great idea. I don't really want to do any schlager until I get my new kit assembled, and I need a steel gorget anyways, so this gives me a chance to experience the battles without having to worry about getting schlager-qualled first.
We'll see.
I've also been thinking a lot about death lately. I know, I know - I'm a dark fantasy/horror writer, but this is different. In the past year or so, I've had a LOT of deaths around me, and I've started to really wonder what does happen to us after we're gone. I don't know that I can just "believe" in an afterlife. I'm too much of a reporter to suspend my disbelief that far. And yet, I'm pagan. The idea of a cycle is something that I find comfort in. How much do we remember, though? How much of "Val" will remain when I die?
What brought this out? Perhaps it's because it's Memorial Day, a day when we remember and honor those who died for our freedoms. Perhaps it was the horrific car accident that
We left the kittens home alone this weekend for the first time, and when we came back, Sebastian assured me that he thought I was gone forever. I was in the bathtub, stroking his head as he lay on the rug next to the tub, and I assured him I would always come back. But I can't really promise that, can I? I don't know anymore. And it bothers me, more than I can say.
I need to work through this. I don't know what to believe or where to turn anymore. I'm just not sure how to work through it. I don't like just turning everything over to a "higher power" - I have a problem with authority (blame it on my McFarland blood). Maybe that's why I write the kind of things I write - because I need to explain to myself what really goes on after we pass away.
Okay, didn't mean to get all maudlin on you all. I'll save my X-Men 3 critique for another post - suffice it to say, I enjoyed it, and if you go and see it, stay ALL the way through the credits. It's worth it.
*The Irritation is one of those Frodo Sting swords - it goes "sching!" every time you swing it. It's annoying as hell. It's also list-legal for rigid parry. *evil grin*
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Anyways, not meaning to contribute to your negative funk, just trying to commiserate and say that I understand where you are coming from.
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Gosh, what maudlin thoughts I'm having tonight. And I haven't even been drinking....
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