Placeholder in 2014

There's not a great deal to report. There's a great deal to reflect on, but, at the moment, reflection is out of the question. Too tired, house is full of children, and an incredibly stressed mother is making sure that nobody in her presence can get any peace. Also desktop is broken. I should get it over to my cousin Michael's, but there's been no time. It's tech week for Back to the 80's. It's been a stressful mess. I have low expectations for the show generally. Still, it's nice to be the stand out success in a cast. On the one hand, I love when I'm able to take a small part and steal the show, on the other hand, it's always something of a shame when I actually can.
Schedule and injury have had me walking every other day, and a skin infection has kept me out of the pool for a week, and, effectively, for a week and a half. I'm going to get back in the water on Monday, hopefully. By then, Sam will probably have time to give me a lesson. Then, hopefully between Sam, Amber, and Dean, I'll get the kind of swimming help I need to get me swimming well. Apparently the skin issue most likely a mix of chlorine burn and general friction issues. It's entirely localized under my armpits (hooray for full disclosure). It makes it very painful to swim. I had hoped to add exercise next week, but between not swimming much, and with not being able to walk as effectively as I'd wanted (5.5 miles at 3.5 miles per hour and 6 miles pushing towards 4 mph are very different) means that I'll probably have to mix things up a bit. I think that I may actually swear off on walking for a bit and try a mix of some other things? I don't know. The nice thing about Myfitnesspal is that I'm able to track calories relative to exercise, so, while I've been exercising less, I've been compensating by eating less. In 37 days, I've only gone over my calorie limit five times in 37 days, only one of which was during this last week of limited exercise. Also, as of this morning, if my scale can be trusted, I've lost 20 lbs. in 37 days. So, I've got that going for me, which is nice. My cousin's cancer is back. I feel bad for not feeling worse. I feel bad for her theoretically. She's a thirteen year old girl who, by all accounts, seems to be very sweet and wonderful etc. etc. etc.. However, while she's my relative and a sweet girl, I barely know her. She's, for all intents and purposes, a total stranger to me. She's fifteen years younger than I am. By the time she was three, I was probably down to seeing her three times a year, and even then, I didn't have any reason to talk to a toddler spawned by the uncle I dislike the most. I want to feel bad for her, but, at the same time, what would it accomplish? I don't know. I don't like feeling heartless, but more and more I feel that I am. Or, rather, I don't feel that I am, but I seem to be based on all evidence. And maybe that's even more worrisome? When you feel that you ought to feel bad, how bad is enough?
Rehearsal for 80's was terrible until Dean started showing up. Dean really is a wonderful guy. He's the first guy I've been able to really talk to about emotional, philosophical, and other such interesting things regularly since Joel started to drift. He's also giving me my "young interesting person" fix, which is nice because it means that I'm finally not pining after somebody inappropriate. Never have I been so happy to be straight before, because if there's anything worse than finding yourself inappropriately lusting after an eighteen year old girl, it's probably finding yourself lusting after an eighteen year old boy. However, as I told Amber yesterday, she's the only inappropriately aged person for me (though, at 22, she's within .5X+7 formula of acceptability). Still, it's nice to finally, FINALLY, have a guy in my life to talk to. Women are all fine and good, but it's nice to talk to somebody who understands things a bit differently. Oddly enough, he seems to agree with Courtney on nearly all of his evaluations of me and my life and my relationships. This confirms my long held suspicion that Courtney is, in fact, a very convincing tranny. While visiting her in California at the age of 15, I had a dream to this effect. Dreams really do come true? I'm reading again. I'm not retaining much, which is unfortunate, but I'm still reading. It's a rather dull history of Sumer, but I'm interested in it. Kind of, at least. It's nice to feel like reading, though I'm a bit sad to be abandoning Thucydides again. Still, I think it's a good sign. I found out today that Rachael will be visiting next weekend. For the first time, I didn't feel angry, or upset, or have my stomach turn to melty cheese. I think that's a good sign. Whether it's because I've grown up, I'm a better person, or Amber finally overtook Rachael in my affections (provably; I've suspected it for quite some time now) I do not know.
Maggie, a sweet little jailbait girl with a hot-for-teacher crush on me commented that my life is a romantic comedy. Amanda a few weeks ago, Amber giving me quite plausible hope, and now Rachael visiting. I think I predicted to Courtney something stupid like this would happen. There's the logical part of me that says, "Probably won't see her, and, even if I do, it won't be for long," but there's also the part of me that says, "After the incredibly unlikely Amanda stuff, and the even less likely Amber stuff, you've entered Evangelion probability and she's going to end up delivered to your bedroom naked, rolled up in the finest carpets." That voice, though, is remarkably quiet. Maybe that's age.
I need to go soon. Dual airport runs, so that'll be nice. Hooray for money, especially easy money.