Aaaand I woke up close to 6 pm.

Vegas over the years, always a few days after he hurt my feelings to the point that I became visibly upset, "hurting his feelings". He'd want assurance that our bond was strong, and it wasn't. So. Yesterday at 1 am he picked a fight, I stood my ground, not perfectly, but I kept pulling back to compassion while keeping my boundaries maintained. This party is motivation as well as celebration, a reminder on my feets. However, he wrecked my damn sleep.

My first domestic squabble of the year shall be charted in my bullet journal.

Okay, not really, but that's all Mastodon got. I shall try calming down by taking a break and then go back to bed, see if the sleep magic happens. I wanted to let you know the whole idea for the 50th party was the sadness that Joe ruined my 40th. I was two years shy of 40 when I met him a decade ago, over the holidays. I told him if I wasn't married by my bday, I'd do the Vegas/Elvis thing. He kept mentioning 1/2

"Oh, you like these? These are my steel toed wedding boots. First thing I made for my upcoming 50th birthday in like, two years."

Like behind upholstery factories for discarded samples, not used bedbug covered chairs full of rusty springs.

I could salvage cloth I found in a dumpster and go as freegan as I can to prevent me from collecting hobbies as my hobby again.

Need to pry myself away from Pinterest before I start serious plans to master every handcraft. I've dabbled in leatherwork for book binding, and I'm seeing so much shoewear that is just a bit too high for my fragile ass. I've done embroidery for my knit toy making thing. But I know I end up doing shit like gathering buckets of acorns to tan rabbit from the butcher shop if I let myself just go at a thing. I adore a new distraction.

That's it. I'm starting a mood board for the dress.

Pretty sure I'm going to celebrate my 50th birthday by taking a bus to Vegas and standing outside an Elvis chapel saying, "Who wants to marry me?" It's not for a couple of years, but I could start making my own dress.

Alfred is such a joy, my bad mood just went poof. Silly bugger.