made it ... ?

[dragonlady7]

So the exhibit opened last night. 76 pictures, of 33 different league members, each secured over foamcore behind glass with 2-4 mirror clips, screwed into the wall. Several of the walls of the gallery, a historic 1903 Carnegie library, consist of paint over plaster over brick. The screws would go into the brick about 75% of the time, and the rest of the time would stubbornly refuse. We had to scrap planned layouts four or five times, and in the end, wound up hanging only 5 pictures on one wall, and devoting the rest to text and some chairs, because we absolutely could not get the screws into the wall. There were some very dark times during setup.
The woman who had made my name too small to read on the postcards was such a setup hero, spending upwards of 12 hours in a day at the gallery, often with her 3 1/2-month-old baby in tow (who was so incredibly well-behaved it was eerie), that I'm willing to utterly forget the font mishap, which is definitely what it was. Ever since then everyone has been so careful to give me adequate credit.
One coworker came to the opening, but the rest couldn't make it. No family members could come, of course; Katy's in Savannah, Ann's in Illinois, and Mom and Dad are visiting Fiona in Colorado currently. Unlikely they'll be back New Yorkward before it closes, so I'll just have to take pictures and put them online for them. And Z wasn't there, since he was on the road back from a conference in Baltimore, and none of his family, since he didn't think to invite them. But my derby family was there in strength, and I got hugged more times than I can even count. It was quite lovely. And I'm glad I don't have to do any more work for a little while. Though I only have this weekend off, then I am in bouts the next three. Eh well!

I was dreading having to stay up afterward to pick Z up from the parking lot where his carpool from Baltimore was dropping him off, but as it happens, after three hours' worth of cumulative delays, the driver decided to just drop him off at home, since he lives about two streets away. So that was really nice. I got home and went to bed and some hours later was awakened by my long-lost love. (OK, he was gone four days, but it was a long four days.)

Did I mention that in the middle of this long four days, I fell asleep in bed with my computer, rolled over at 5am and knocked it loudly to the floor, whereupon it began making a horrible noise with its disk drive? Yeah, I broke my computer. It's six or seven years old and now very definitely on its last legs. Many, many sad faces. Adding to the crushing, debilitating stress of this week. Ugh.

He was at some sort of programming conference. At conferences, people give out swag. One of the swag items Z got was a ping-pong-ball-shooting gun. The swag-giver-outer had some sort of Twitter app: you'd shoot someone with the ping pong, then Tweet at their twitter handle and also at the handle of the Twitter app of the company, and the company would tally who shot who, and there was some nebulous promise of a prize to the person who did the most shooting.

Well, Z won. And the prize was not the yet-another-t-shirt he was expecting, but a Macbook Air.
He texted me this, and I laughed, and said that's awesome, and went back to my setting up. And as I was trying to coax my computer to survive, a little voice inside of me wondered if he would sell me his prize for some price I could afford. Z has two newish computers, a desktop he's theoretically sharing with me, and a Netbook he uses for everything. I'd debated getting a Netbook, but I mostly use my laptop for Photoshop, Lightroom, and Scrivener, and none of those would run on a Netbook. (They barely run on the laptop I have.)

So today he texted me (he's at work-- I'm very put out, I'd been looking forward to him being home today so we could screw around and eat brunch and catch up and not do much of anything, boo) and said he'd give me his new Macbook, which he doesn't need, provided I do one thing:
Make a doctor's appointment.
Which I've been procrastinating on for literally a year.
And he's right, I lose feeling in the fingers of my left hand about fifteen times a day, I should get it looked at.
So I gotta go do that. But I had to be ridiculously cheerful for a minute first, since I rarely do that anymore.

Comments

[kkatowll.livejournal.com]

YAY!
Awesome!
And good for him to make you get a dr's appointment.