Please? Thank you (& stuff)

Monsters like tea and cakes too. I'm still in my 'little girl and her monsters' phase.

I am homesick for the European sensibility. I miss manners. I miss politeness. I miss please, and thank you. I am homesick for modesty and bashfulness, fairness and common consideration. All those things feel long-extinct here. Buried with the velociraptors turning into oil. I go somewhere and stand in line and someone will say “give me four yards of this,” or “can I get two cups of that?” There’s never a please appended on the end of that sentence. Someone *is* actually providing you a service; humbling themselves to do it (on the most part, if it’s a teenager serving you they probably don’t care)—a simple please wouldn’t freakin’ kill you for Christ’s sake. Then the service provider completes this service, and the person takes it and walks away without another word.

People express *surprise* when I say thank you sometimes. I was even told by a lady who’d moved here from Europe that it was impossible that I was American because I was too polite; and she wanted to know what my nationality was. I insisted that I was born in Colorado, but she threw up her hands in victory when I told her my formative years were spent traipsing the cobbled roads in the Brabant region. It all made sense to her immediately. I guess I don’t act inconsiderate enough or entitled enough to be fully qualified to be ‘real’ American. LOL.

People who meet me initially think I’m stuck up. I’ve been told by the way I speak that I come off snobby. I look at it this way; I speak a different language, I am not snobby. I went to international schools, with teachers from all over the world. I use different words for things. Even my husband picks on me because I’ll use a ‘ten-dollar’ word when it’s not necessary. It’s the word I know. Back the hell off! I’m not showing off, and if I *were* really snobby, then I wouldn’t be out-burping my husband or using language that would make dock-workers blush and giggle. I hate it that people mark me as high-and-mighty by my vocabulary. And I don’t want to have to program myself to speak in different ways to make myself less open for judgment—that’s just stupid.

These things were never an issue overseas. I was just me and it was okay. I was polite because it’s the way people are there. My English is ‘international’ English. I just miss Europe. A lot. I haven’t been home since 1992. That’s a long freakin’ time. I’m afraid to imagine how much as changed. Sometimes, I go onto Google Earth and just pan around looking for familiar places. Old trails, houses we lived in, roads we drove on, fields we crossed. Stupid stuff. But even after over 20 years, that sense of home just never goes away. :( Sad.  I want to move back there.  ::sighs::

Weight wise: Plateau! Again. Argh! I’m not sure if it’s not enough water this time or it’s just me, getting a bit cavalier about what points I think I’m eating. It’s time to buckle down. I haven’t left the 23lb stage for a couple of weeks. It’s time. In defense of myself, I am back on the regular cycle ... the Lupron reprieve was kick-started with the progesterone shot so I am not only back on that ‘OMG if I don’t get chocolate I will commit homicide’ place, I also have been craving beef, bacon and beef and bacon and sushi and beef and bacon. I did indulge the bacon thing twice last weekend, but bacon when made crispy is only one point a slice, so I can’t blame that for my plateau. At least I’m not GAINING weight, but still... annoying. And to top it off, eldest sister is here a’visitin’ and she made some chicken wings on Sunday that were bathed in butter, garlic and parm (in addition to some in hot-sauce, not to mention there was also a pizza ((a healthy pizza!))) Aaanyway, I’ve been just a smidge naughty. Only a smidge though. I could have been much, much worse. I could have eaten my way through a Krispy Kreme or something like that, but I did not. Yay me! Although I’m not the biggest fan of Krispy Kreme, this past few months I’ve had fantasies of having a KK donut hot off the KK press. Auuughh....

S2 came over on Sunday and we worked on some little gowns for her boyfriend’s daughters. They are so cute, it almost made me faint or wretch, I’m still not sure. The girls picked their own fabrics. In my mind they should have been in gauzy white with little silk sashes of jewel tone colours. But they did pick cute little delicate prints (matching) one in blue and one in a light lavender colour (if I recall correctly). Since I have no chitlins, I have no patterns for itty bitty regency dresses, and I didn’t have time to scale anything up from the web, so I just told S2 to bring some muslin I could draw on, and I draped the pattern for the bodice right on the girls.

Since they weren't there for sewing, we
left some length on the skirts. This
hadn't been hemmed yet, obviously, durrr.

I think my only boo-boo was that I didn’t cut a seam-allowance on the front of the bodices because I’m partly an idiot, so they’re super narrow. But since they are both little munchkins, it still turned out awfully cute. I’m kind of proud that I made itty bitty patterns all by my lonesome, sleeves and all. But I have done SO many regency gowns I know the shapes very well, and there’s really not much tailoring there when you’re only making a tiny empire bodice, so it’s no HUGE accomplishment. In addition to their little gowns, they are also going to have some bonnets. I still have no sleeves on my new gown, nor is it hemmed or is there a drawstring in place. But it will come, I hope. This week. ::snicker::. I still need a petticoat, I have none. I also need a shift and I was hoping to pull off a pair of pantalettes to boot, but I think those may have to wait. We shall see. All these sisterly visits and all-day-consuming mother-shopping-trips and other crap; I just haven’t taken the time I need to get these projects done.

Anywhoo.... this is just a silly update. I will actually try to have something interesting to say soon enough. I think my next post may be next week and it will probably be a gown ‘tutorial’ or journalish sort of post about the gown I made for the Pittock Mansion picnic. I’ll try to remember to take pics of the horse-camping at Timothy Lake too.