![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
xianeThis was written today while perching on a stool behind the counter at Coyote, and posted later. Whee.
I find that it becomes increasingly frustrating to try to communicate without words. One never truly realizes how important speech is until it is impossible to do. Needless to say, although my spirits are good, I'm still not over this illness, and it is starting to wear. I feel for poor![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
eilonwy, who has been suffering through this for days upon days! Do you know what the worst part of losing my voice is? Not being able to sing, not one iota. I was listening through a mix CD today at Coyote, checking it for any bobbles or sound loss, and of course one of my current favourite songs for singing along with is on it - "Hummingbirds", by the lovely Venus Hum. And I COULDN'T SING! Needless to say, this made me one very sad Xiane. I take for granted so easily my ability to sing at any time. That's a natural form of expression for me, now taken away until my voice is completely healed. If I sing while my throat is dead, I could wreck my vocal cords. Damn.
The folks at Higher Grounds were amused by my throaty request for coffee this morning, though. And hey - at least I can croak a wee bit. I have more voice in the lower registers than the higher ones.briskpepper was commenting when listening to the tape from the infamous Fall Fundraiser that my voice on the air was lower than my usual speaking voice. I think when conditions are not optimum, I tend to drop down about a half step in register. At NRN, there's a hardcore dehumidifier that helps to keep the music and equipment in tip-top shape. But being a very dry person to begin with - I am perpetually dehydrated - it effects my voice quite rapidly. Drinking water doesn't help in those situations, either. I need something that will coat my throat, and that's usually Pepsi, as that's what's at hand at the Station.
Weird. Someone just walked into Coyote wearing a key around her neck that looks just like the one in my tattoo, or at least close enough to make us both raise an eyebrow. Neat! And speaking of, I need to work on the design for tattoo number two. That will probably be the last tattoo for me for a while. Of course, they are addictive... but the covered in ink aesthetic is not one that I want, personally. I'm not that type of girl. I just like carrying the symbols that resonate with me on my body. I do have to say that I love the look of Vimala's back piece - it is an abstract blackwork tribal piece that she's had forever, and it stretches across her back from shoulder to shoulder. It suits her so well that I've considered that as a place for the next one, but I really want to have mine in places that I can see. I really only have them for me, anyway. I like to rub my key, I love the slightly raised texture of it on my skin.
I'm thinking of growing my hair longer again. I might miss my pigtails when/if I do... but lately I've been missing the feel of long stands whipping around in the wind, or being able to glance impudently at people between curls. On the other hand, I hated having to dye and wrangle such long masses of hair. Ah, what to do, what to do. Well, it isn't as if I'll have long hair overnight. I just particularly detest the in-between stages, when my hair is on bad behaviour. I have about a million cowlicks - no, I'm not exaggerating! Well, maybe a little bit - and my hair is duly unruly because of it. Heh. Duly unruly. It is obvious that sitting here in Coyote is getting to me today!
I think I'm going to pretend for a bit that no one will notice if I curl up in a ball on the little stage area and pass out. You don't see me, you don't see me, you don't...
I find that it becomes increasingly frustrating to try to communicate without words. One never truly realizes how important speech is until it is impossible to do. Needless to say, although my spirits are good, I'm still not over this illness, and it is starting to wear. I feel for poor
eilonwy, who has been suffering through this for days upon days! Do you know what the worst part of losing my voice is? Not being able to sing, not one iota. I was listening through a mix CD today at Coyote, checking it for any bobbles or sound loss, and of course one of my current favourite songs for singing along with is on it - "Hummingbirds", by the lovely Venus Hum. And I COULDN'T SING! Needless to say, this made me one very sad Xiane. I take for granted so easily my ability to sing at any time. That's a natural form of expression for me, now taken away until my voice is completely healed. If I sing while my throat is dead, I could wreck my vocal cords. Damn.The folks at Higher Grounds were amused by my throaty request for coffee this morning, though. And hey - at least I can croak a wee bit. I have more voice in the lower registers than the higher ones.
briskpepper was commenting when listening to the tape from the infamous Fall Fundraiser that my voice on the air was lower than my usual speaking voice. I think when conditions are not optimum, I tend to drop down about a half step in register. At NRN, there's a hardcore dehumidifier that helps to keep the music and equipment in tip-top shape. But being a very dry person to begin with - I am perpetually dehydrated - it effects my voice quite rapidly. Drinking water doesn't help in those situations, either. I need something that will coat my throat, and that's usually Pepsi, as that's what's at hand at the Station. Weird. Someone just walked into Coyote wearing a key around her neck that looks just like the one in my tattoo, or at least close enough to make us both raise an eyebrow. Neat! And speaking of, I need to work on the design for tattoo number two. That will probably be the last tattoo for me for a while. Of course, they are addictive... but the covered in ink aesthetic is not one that I want, personally. I'm not that type of girl. I just like carrying the symbols that resonate with me on my body. I do have to say that I love the look of Vimala's back piece - it is an abstract blackwork tribal piece that she's had forever, and it stretches across her back from shoulder to shoulder. It suits her so well that I've considered that as a place for the next one, but I really want to have mine in places that I can see. I really only have them for me, anyway. I like to rub my key, I love the slightly raised texture of it on my skin.
I'm thinking of growing my hair longer again. I might miss my pigtails when/if I do... but lately I've been missing the feel of long stands whipping around in the wind, or being able to glance impudently at people between curls. On the other hand, I hated having to dye and wrangle such long masses of hair. Ah, what to do, what to do. Well, it isn't as if I'll have long hair overnight. I just particularly detest the in-between stages, when my hair is on bad behaviour. I have about a million cowlicks - no, I'm not exaggerating! Well, maybe a little bit - and my hair is duly unruly because of it. Heh. Duly unruly. It is obvious that sitting here in Coyote is getting to me today!
I think I'm going to pretend for a bit that no one will notice if I curl up in a ball on the little stage area and pass out. You don't see me, you don't see me, you don't...
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
2003-10-21 15:47 (UTC)Yes. Voicelessness sucks. I hate the way the nurse at the EmergiCare place took a look at my little form and said, "Shenandoah Shakespeare?! With no voice?!" and laughed at me. Hey, lady, why do you think I'm in your office? I hated the way the doctor was arguing with me and I couldn't make myself heard. I really hated having to pantomime "1/2 pound land o' lakes white american cheese." I guess I'm just lucky it's temporary, and that this *isn't* an affliction I'll have to live with, and I really really should be happier about my relative good health and my lack of disabilities. Still, it's not easy. I'm not a big singer-- I like my voice okay these days, and I love to sing along to stuff, but it's not like with you. Still, it's *so* hard to hear something on the radio/cd player that I like and want to sing along to and I just *can't*. Arg.
I'm starting to get my voice back just a little. At the *very* lowest of ranges-- and since my voice is low to begin with I sound ridiculous. The next day or so is going to be that fun in between place where I *could* talk if I had to, but I *really* shouldn't because it's bad for me.
This comment got much longer than I anticipated. I guess I felt the need to communicate, despite laryngitis.
Hope you're feeling better soon, luvvie, and that your voice recovers quickly! I won't see you at La Dawning this week :( but I'll be in C'ville on Friday with M-- maybe you'll be around for tea??
no subject
2003-10-21 15:50 (UTC)I'm glad your voice is finally coming back. I'm really feeling for you, after these few days. I can at least talk, even though it sounds like I'm alternatively whispering or trying very hard to be a seductress. And *don't* come to The Dawning this week - much too much smoke. That's really rough on the throat!
**love**
no subject
2003-10-21 15:56 (UTC)But yes! Let's have TEA! Or something! It'd be *so* cool to see you outside of the dawning!! ::persuade, persuade::
sickness
2003-10-21 16:03 (UTC)