the Dalaverse

So my passport has arrived safely back with its visa sticket, and my housing is all taken care of (I had failed to read the fine print that the first installment wouldn't be deducted until 1/11). I should be happy and excited. But I think I'm having a freakout disguised as depression. I woke up sad this morning, from a strange dream that just made me more sad. I felt better for awhile for several reasons - it finally feels like September, I wore a new sweater today, Starbucks has brought their caramel apple cider back, I watched the first episode of "Gilmore Girls" on the Metro - but now I'm low again. I'm sure this has nothing to do with being bored at work, though at least I only have two days left.

Sigh. I also have a chest cold that's left me coughing hard for two days, and a stye. I didn't realize what it was because I'd never had one (for some reason I thought it was directly on the eyeball, not eyeball-adjacent), and I kept trying to think of how I had bumped my eye to make it hurt. It is small but irritating. It doesn't hurt to blink anymore, but maybe I've just gotten used to it.

There's nothing much to report, other than the good news that somehow isn't making me happy. On Friday I went hunting for reading list books at the Alcove; my immediate goal was unsuccessful, but I lucked out with Tudor history - I bought Antonia Fraser's book on the wives of Henry VIII, Alison Weir's biography of Elizabeth, JJ Scarisbrick's of Henry, and a review paperback copy of the new Elizabeth-as-pirate-queen book, which I am very excited to not have to spend thirty bucks on. On Saturday I worked on the scrapghan I started the weekend before and managed to finish it. It didn't get rid of even half my scrap yarn - I still have five or six skeins of Simply Soft - but it did make use of the smaller scraps. Plus it's pretty, or as pretty as an entirely non-matching thing can be. I'll post pictures of it if I can find the digital camera (which I sort of have to do as it's coming with me to Southampton). And on Sunday, I futzed around with cabled scarf patterns while watching the Skins games, and then Megan called to ask if I wanted to go to the American Idols concert with her younger cousins. After I got over the WTF factor of this, it turned out to be a pretty good time. Melinda and Jordan are awesome, and the rest of the Top Ten can sing except for Haley and Sanjaya, and they bring their own charms (hot legs and fascinatingly weird hair, respectively). They shouldn't be let near the Beatles, though, particularly "Hey Jude;" and I actually exclaimed "Goddammit, NO!" over the screams of the teenage girls when stupid Blake (or it might've been Chris, I can't tell them apart except that one of them has stupider hair) started playing the bass line of "With or Without You" (luckily, he only did the chorus once, and I suppose at least he's functional with a guitar).

And I am happy that Dad bought an extra ticket for the game on the 23rd, so I'll have a proper American sendoff. Or I'll be happy about it later, anyway.

ETA: Good remedy for the blues. Go to a cafe for a good sandwich, sit outside and feed sparrows while thinking about sailing. Works like a charm.