orichalcum

One of the things that preparing for a big move again makes me think about is not just my accumulation of stuff in the last ten years but also all of the extra needs and services of adult life. So, in the first category, it is times like this that I sometimes wish we hadn't gotten married until we both had tenure-track jobs somewhere and had bought a house, so I wouldn't need to freak out about the china and the ornamental dish from our honeymoon in Turkey and some of the wedding presents that have turned out to be less useful but which we still need to keep because They Were Gifts (gigantic shallow ceramic bowls are not recommended as wedding presents for young mobile couples, fyi). Of course, under this theory, it would be entirely possible for us not to get married for another ten years, so...I'll just periodically envy my friends with less china while being grateful for it during all the non-moving times.


But then there are the service professionals. When I moved to NYC for graduate school, I registered with a PCP for emergencies because I had to under my health care plan, an OB/GYN so I could get birth control, and I frequented the $10 trainee nights at the upscale hair salons.

I just sent off email to some Bay Area female friends asking for recommendations for a local PCP, Ob-GYN/midwife, dentist, pediatrician, hair salon, car mechanic, and optometrist. Since sending the email, I've realized that I will also need to spend August and September finding a vet, an oncologist, an occasional masseuse, a public library, a daycare if our existing plans (on waiting list at Stanford) fall through, an occasional babysitter for weekends, a dog kennel for when we travel or someone who can pet sit, an exercise facility, a housecleaning service or person, a barber for CP, and a grocery delivery service if one exists.

It's not that I absolutely need to have all of these services, nor will I use most of them regularly. But fundamentally, my life has evolved so that I do want and expect regular ongoing relationships with a wide variety of service professionals. Part of it has been living the last two years on a law firm salary, where I didn't have to make tough financial choices. No longer in that situation, I'm currently debating whether I can afford a massage to bring my back pain down from 4-6 to 2 or so, given the amount of recent dental bills. But I think a lot of it is just getting older, and well, more grownup, and with more needs for dependent care. There are so many problems that can be solved by the application of time and money - and it _does_ make me feel better to have a good haircut.



I'm also thinking about these transitional issues because

Pretty much everyone who's known me in person for any significant length of time has seen me wear an ankle-length, A-line black and gold and red-velvet skirt, with giant diagonal sections for the red and gold, from Coldwater Creek. I love this skirt; I wore it in several high school formal pictures, to my first Quest game because I was dragged into the back of a U-Haul with ten minutes notice (these being in Ori's Young and Stupid days), taking exams and teaching and all over the world. I have probably worn it more than 100 times, maybe more than 200.

It was a present for my 13th birthday. It used to brush the tops of my feet.

As ladybird97 pointed out, I will have students this fall who are younger than my skirt.

It's seen better days, but it's still theoretically repairable; I could get the elastic fixed, and the hem trimmed, and the one hole patched.

But it's time for me to let it go, and stick to wearing clothes whose age isn't in double digits, that I bought after graduating from college, not during junior high.
But I'm going to miss it. Maybe that seems stupid. It's not a person or a book or a favorite game, just a piece of clothing.

But for 17 years, when I put on that skirt, I knew who I was, and what sort of statement I was making about myself. I was a girl/woman who wore long opaque skirts that hid her legs, but skirts that were bold and rich and caught the eye, who wasn't afraid to attract attention, who liked spinning in circles and watching the skirt twirl and dancing and lifting pieces of the skirt between my fingers and having small children and puppies hide under the folds and cuddle in my soft, cosy lap. And I worry that without that skirt, with an Ori who wears fashionable straight moleskin or cotton skirts that look professional...I'll lose a bit of that wild gypsyness. Even if, maybe, it's already gone and the skirt's just a security blanket these days.

Sometimes being practical and mature kinda sucks. Sometimes I want to be 16 again, in Ithaca, thinking that wearing a velvet skirt is really daring in a world where everyone wears Gap blue jeans and plaid shirts.

I'm still not going to wear blue jeans. And maybe, come Christmas-time, I'll see another velvet skirt in a store window or catalog, calling my name. But sometimes you do have to let things go (and it doesn't mean going to Hell, contra the icon).