pieces.

I miss art.

I've been packing and unpacking, carrying boxes, cleaning and organizing for the past... well, two months. M moved into his new place, which we're calling "our" new place even though I won't be living there for a year, and it feels like this endless mountain of sheer stuff that needs to be moved around and put into Just The Right Spot. It's become overwhelming. I don't handle long-term stress well; I'd much rather just get it all done at once and have things As They Should Be but between M's stuff (minimal), my stuff (very minimal, at the moment) and M's father's stuff (three houses worth of furniture, artwork, vases, lamps and a metric ton of steak knives, some of which is staying with him downstairs and some of which is coming upstairs to us) and I'm really wondering if we'll ever find places for everything!

I've been so busy, I almost forgot I used to do things like draw, or paint, or write (crappy) song lyrics about how miserable my upperclass white suburban teenage life was (eyeroll), or just playing the piano when no one's home. I started doing that again this summer, when my family was up at the summer house and I could sneak a few minutes back at home before or after work. I really missed the piano.

I need to slow down. My mother's been telling me I'll drive myself crazy with this whole "new house thing." Things have slowed down a bit, now that I've drained most of my finances on cute candle holders and placemats and cloth napkins and curtains. Are there 12-step programs for people who burn themselves out trying to be Martha Stewart?

I started this journal, in part, because I needed to finally carve out a peaceful space for myself in the internets. I've been Livejournaling for so long that it became, for me, a friends network rather than, well, a journal. With all that I've been doing these past few months I've hardly taken a moment to examine the state of my brain. When I do take a few moments to check Livejournal, it's to skim through my friends list to keep up with what about five people are doing, leave quick comments, and move on to something else.

I think I need a bit of space from that need for validation, as well... there are comments here on blogspot, but without that intensive community feeling that places like Livejournal have with the particular type of interface and friends lists and all that, I don't get that "I'm talking to you and you're not listening and commenting and leaving tons of messages!" feeling. This space looks and feels more like a personal website to me, which gives me some breathing room from that "conversation in a crowd" atmosphere. It's quieter here. Erm, e-quiet.

That said... M and I watched Justin Timberlake's HBO Concert Special tonight. M was so sweet; he set it to record so when I showed up at his/our place and realized I'd missed a big chunk of it I could still go back and watch it. Then he set "The Pick-Up Artist" to record for me in-- well, 6 minutes-- because I missed it while watching "The L Word" upstairs. (New favorite DVD, by the way. I'm hooked!)

Anyways, Justin... he did a little Tori Amos thing at the piano with the vocal & piano improv'ed intro to some song of his I don't know, and I thought it was awesome. I love that Justin Timberlake is not at all facially attractive (hey, just my opinion) but he does the "I wear hot suits" and "I can dance" and "I have a cool, intense-yet-laid-back attitude" thing and it totally makes him hot. Guys can get away with just charisma... what a double-standard. Boo!

Ack, it's late. I have to be up early tomorrow... I want to get back to M's place while the rug guys are still there, and then I'm picking my dog up at his doctor's appointment. I wonder exactly how many pounds overweight the little guy is this time, now that we're home from the beach and he's not running around as much...