The world is a vampire.

I am utterly heartbroken. Here, blog, you take the brunt of my sadness.

First, I have a wedding shower today. On this day, all of my friends and coworkers from Lyon were going to get to meet my husband. But, unfortunately, circumstances beyond his control prevented him from coming. I'm not mad about it, because he really couldn't help it and it was all in the best interest of his Nanny, but I'm still really sad. I guess most husbands don't go to wedding showers, but I wanted him to meet everyone. Now they never will. They don't even know who they're giving the gifts to. At least, they don't know half of the couple.

Second, I was so excited to find that there were apartments open across the street from my school. Yay! Even a two bedroom, which I didn't think was completely necessary because teeny children don't usually need their own rooms, but whatever. And this apartment is affordable, considering it's in Conway. Well, now it looks like it's not going to happen. AFTER I called and told the lady I'd be there tomorrow to pay for it and everything. So, again, I am homeless. Every alternative I come up with is shot down, and when I finally acquiesce and call about an apartment there, that doesn't go through, either. I NEED A PLAN. This is driving me crazy. I think I'm just going to live alone in my car. I'll mostly live at school or in a tent, anyway. I have friends who'll let me use their backyards, and my mom will catsit. Commuting 1.5 hours to school EVERY DAY is just not an option for me. I'd rather live in my tent in Toad Suck Park or in woods around the city than drive all day every day. Ideas, electively homeless friends?

Very. Upset.

Fitter, happier, more productive, not drinking too much

From deep within my psyche, I'm pretty much screaming at everyone. I would almost call it yelling for help, but not in a pitiful way. So not really yelling "for help." Just yelling. Because I'm not allowed to say anything about it in the present tense. I have a different term for it then. The problem is, part of the rules are that I can't talk about it. I can't do it in front of people, at least, not out loud. I can't even talk about why I can't talk about it. Isn't that insane? I mean, I can sort of talk about it, but there are certain words that are off limits. Now I'm pushing the limits a little, but I think it's good for me to write myself a little note about it. Oh, the more insane part is that I CAN talk about it when I'm not living it. Then, just like a switch, I'm not longer allowed to mention it. It's only a past tense issue, like it's okay and even worthy of pride to be a victor but it's not okay to be going through it. I know that's at least slightly quirky, if not abnormal, but that's how it is.

Slowly but surely, and oddly enough right on schedule, the old me is back. You can time it, almost, predict the return. Over the past few weeks, my habits have crept back up on me, and I have welcomed them like old friends. Old fears are happy boundaries, limits. My brain demands structure. And there's that love-hate relationship again. There are lots of things I won't be able to do anymore, things that just suddenly pop back up even if they'd seemed absurd for months, but there are many things that I'll do better. It's just that sometimes, it makes me feel pretty crazy and trapped. Trapped is the word I always used for it. When I feel trapped is when I start screaming on the inside. Because the me who was living a "chaotic" (not really, just by my standards) life had my own consciousness and personality at the forefront. The me I was my whole life before then had to always bury that, to remain under control, to do everything like I was "told" so life could go on smoothly. I mean, my consciousness is still controlling my body, obviously. It's just much more aware of everything I do and say, buried under layers of, uh, stuff- everything must be carefully thought out, rehearsed. So everything just takes longer.

And now I have hit the limit of what I am allowed to verbalize. Heh.

Good times, noodle salad.

Emptiness is loneliness and loneliness is cleanliness and cleanliness is godliness

That was my favorite song for a particular period of my life, and I really couldn't tell you why, but it was a constant mantra in my head.

Concerns that I can't really talk about, nothing terrible, all in my head. But it's destroying me. Drowning forever.

Just for ewe.

My husband is amazing. Follow the link he sent me. I've been singing this song in my head for over a week now.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VrjwqXwyzNU&NR=1

One night of magic rush
The start - a simple touch
One night to push and scream
And then relief
Ten days of perfect tunes
The colors red and blue
We had a promise made
We were in love

And just for kicks, here's what I want for Christmas.

1. For everyone to get along. This includes friends, family, and people I'm not related to. Bleh.
2. My mother's sanity and stability.
3. My own sanity and relative stability.
4. A new metal water bottle.
5. An athame.
6. A visit to a beautician. My hair is losing it.
7. Gas cards, I drive too much.
8. School suppliez.
9. Miscellaneous.

Everything is Vibrating Continually.

I have a lot to say, but not right now.

I know a girl who lives downtown
Gets her food from the trash and smokes from the ground
She sleeps on the rocks and scumfucks around
But she’s the only real lady that I’ve ever found

My big twin sister is a spazzed magpie
Hated being a girl, so she showed up as a guy.
Made love in the middle of the night, but I cried
Because we’re twinkles on opposite sides of the sky.

Masters of bliss who live in a house
They get arrested for the truth and yelling it out.





Well hell, that's all I got right now.

Also, yes. yes, yes, and yes. I agree, that's right, and this moment is perfect.

Future Folk Singers of America

Several people, especially my closest friends, really encourage me in my music. The problem is, I'm still struggling to even begin to write my own. Which is a shame; by now I thought I'd at least have a coffee shop gig. I'm tentatively planning to commit to practicing guitar and actively writing more over the break. Anyway, I just thought of that because I was posting this song...and I wish I could write songs like this. I've heard it in my head upon meeting someone twice. The first time, when I met my brother, Taylor. The other time was the day me and my husband got together. I really need to learn the chords.

Half Asleep (Dan Messe)

I want to tell you I've watched the waves
That wake the sea
The lightning that wakes up the ground
And my heart has been half asleep inside of me
It wakes up when you come around

I want to tell you I've watched the moon
That trips the tide
The shadows that trip on the tree
And I'm wearing a blindfold, a shoelace untied
I'm steady when you're next to me

I've been half asleep all of my life
Lost in the dark of some perilous night
Is that you or some beautiful light
Finally coming around

And my heart has been half asleep all of my life
It wakes up when you come around
It wakes up when you come around




I'll surprise you.

Everything will change.

Priorities have shifted and clarity has hit me dead in the face in just the last few months. After the first of the year, I'll be living in a new place and doing new things, but things are happening now.

I got married last Friday. Yes, interwebz, I got legally married. We haven't been seeing each other long, but we've known each other for years, and now is all you have so why would you wait? That was what was always wrong with me- I always felt like I needed to wait, there was no urgency or need to live right now and be content to die at a moment's notice with regard to my love life. I had serious issues with that. Last Friday I went to Little Rock for a meeting with a birth client, and during lunch Stewart and I decided to get a marriage license. Then, up walked a Justice of the Peace. We were married by a window in the Pulaski County courthouse. It was the right decision, I promise. Some people have remarked that it was kind of sudden, but meh. We just didn't feel like making a huge crazy fuss over ourselves.

(P.S. I'm not pregnant).

Later that night, I picked up my little 12-week-old tabby boy whose name is Arlo. Arlo Guthrie Fuell, for all you I-give-cats-people-names folks. He is very needy, but he's a kitten, so I'm okay with that. Sweet cat.

All of my paperwork and assistantship stuff for UCA in January is filed and ready to go. I just have to figure out how much of a loan to ask for to cover some summer living expenses (as a backup; if I'm a certified doula by then, then I'll just pay back that loan...with the loan money. Immediately). Graduate school starts January 14th. My resignation letter is on my boss's desk; I won't be here after January 10th or so, but I will be paid until the 30th. Sweeeeet.

I was with a birth client from 11:30 a.m. yesterday until 2:30 a.m. this morning. 22 hours, totally natural labor, seventeen hours of which she did at home and the rest at the hospital (mostly in the tub or sitting up on the bed with a squat bar). It was a fantastic, beautiful, sacred and gentle birth. No tearing, and it is totally true that you completely forget the pain once the baby is here. It was the best birth I've ever attended.

I guess I can't complain. Except legally changing your name is kind of a bitch.

Luck

The past week has been crazy.

My cat is gone. She is no more. She was my little baby, and I miss her terribly. She and I had a very special connection. No more little mews or cuddling at night. :(

I will be looking to adopt a new animal sometime in December. My coworker's dog just had collie/lab mix puppies, and I'd be open to a dog, but the place where I may be living for graduate school isn't very dog-friendly. If that doesn't work out, I'll adopt from the Humane Society again. Anna is irreplacable, but I really love having an animal companion.

My wallet went missing. It may be lost, but it was pretty suspicious. I had promised to babysit my cousin yesterday and today is a bank holiday, so all I've been able to do is cancel my debit and credit cards. I'm confident no one has tried to use them since I cancelled them so soon, but I'd like to be sure. No odd charges are posted on my online banking, but I'm still going to go look tomorrow at the bank. Pretty sure the debit card hasn't been used; I'm not as worried about the credit card, because they'll just take off any false charges. It's just a pain in the ass to have no debit card or driver's license. I was going to get my new license today...but...it's Veteran's Day. Darn it. At least I have a checkbook and a passport.

Good news, though. The car maintenance I needed isn't going to cost nearly as much because my cousin can do it. Yaaay! And I will soon be having my yearly visits for dental and physical stuff, which will be good to get out of the way before graduate school. I registered for classes yesterday, and everything is on track there. I just have to send off my teaching contract.
I have a doula client who will be in labor anyday. All in all, I guess I can't complain. I just miss my cat.

She melts into an iridescent puddle on the floor

Wow, I am way overdue. For a complete emotional breakdown, that is. In fact, if I don't have one for a few weeks, I start to think something is REALLY wrong. It's how I wring myself out. It's like New Year's Day, only way more than once a year. And I'm doing that teetering act now, where I'm standing right on the ledge and feel the fear and exhiliration but don't quite go over yet. But I know I will. And then I'll clean everything in sight for about a day then be alright again.

I haven't had one in nearly a month, and I'm scared to have one now. I don't want to scare people who have gotten close to me. I am irritable and moody. No good.

I am the best at hiding my brokenness when it's at its worst ,though. That is to say, when my friends see me crying in a little ball or completely catatonic, that's a good sign, I'm okay. It's like rain during a storm. Once it gets calm, then you need to worry.

I need a vacation. I'd take three days, even. I'm starting to take doula clients again, and I love it, but that's just one more thing. I'm tired of piano lessons because I don't have time. I haven't wanted to be in pipe band for a few years, but I feel some odd sense of obligation. I'm playing every Sunday for a church an hour away, and the fuel cost is really adding up. In fact, my paycheck is going into my car, since where I'm living now is smack in between the place I'm chained to and where I want to be. I love my students, but working 8-5 everyday is really wearing on me. I can't see my boyfriend without driving two hours, and he can't very well come to me all the time, either. Time time time. I'm always pressed for it. I'm taking tomorrow off. Screw it.
Just to go somewhere and not do anything but sleep and eat and watch movies or something ridiculous like that would be nice. I'm just so tired of driving. Oop, here come the tears. Time to go home and pretend everything's good.

You can't help that. We're all mad here.

Cheshire kitty paces on the tree limb, head bobbing up and down. "What will you do? Do you feel it? It's coming, isn't it?" His voice is low and smooth, with the sound of sinister humor in it.

"What's coming?" asks the girl.

Cheshire stops to flash a grin and wags his whole bottom, whipping his tail in excitement. "Why, the end. The end is coming! The end of all the world! Don't you see it?"

"I don't see anything, and I don't think anything is going to happen. You're just a crazy old cat. What would you know about the end of the world?"

"What is more important" purrs the kitty "is what you're going to do when it comes. Think on it. What will you do?"

"Well, I don't know what I will do, but I do not want to be out here when it happens. If you're so smart, then tell me which way I should go! I'm lost again."

Cheshire kitty becomes still and serious as he whips his huge, polydactyl paw around to explain again "As you well know, in that direction lives a March Hare...And in that direction..." He urges Alice not to visit the Rabbit.

Cheshire kitty's madness seems to be slowly taking him over, barely speaking in sentences now due to his excitement, complete loosening of associations, as his thoughts are enraptured and hypnotized by visions of the Crash, the death of the Hare and the chaos that will ensue. Wonderland will be reduced to nothing; any semblance of order (as if there were much of any) will be gone. The March Hare will be cooked and eaten, torn limb from limb. The Mad Hatter will laugh and giggle as he packs a rucksack and follows the Cheshire Cat into the wilderness while no one is looking. Kitty urges Alice to follow the schizoid Hatter, not the rushed, anxious rabbit. White Rabbit is going to pay, and all the creatures left in Wonderland are going to get a piece. Stop following the Rabbit; to be found with him will get you eaten, too. You will be destroyed.

But to escape with the Hatter means you must learn to be self-sufficient, and you must learn to communicate and function in this world forever, to completely let go of what you have come to know as sanity or reason, to be completely comfortable with the disconcerting and horrifyingly beautiful and to welcome the trial by fire. If you lose your mind, and you are not your body, only spirit you'll be. There is truth and comfort in perverted minds, the demented Sage Cat tells her. If you can just get rid of this attachment to the Hare and stop clinging so desperately to what you knew, what kept you functioning in the World, you will find more peace than you ever had. You must go among the mad people; your life depends on it.

Please pardon the dust.

I'm tidying up around here. Bear with me.

No I'm Not

I am not sorry for anything. Ever. Anything I've written on here, anything I've said to anyone, my craziness, my flaws, my abilities and accomplishments, all of my actions for the last twenty-four years, eight months, twenty nine days, and twenty two hours. Not sorry. I do not apologize, and I don't need anyone's forgiveness.

La. Ti. Da.

In other news, fall is here, and it is beautiful. Crunchy leaves hot cocoa crisp air cold nose whiskey sour it's too absurdly cold to smoke I should quit antiquated old downtown walk. I'm that guy walking down the street jangling the change in his pocket who is feeling quite a bit better than you.

and I saw a new Heaven and a new Earth...

speak to me in a language i can hear

humor me before i have to go

deep in thought i forgive everyone

as the cluttered streets greet me once again


i know i can't be late, supper's waiting on the table

tomorrow's just an excuse away

so i pull my collar up and face the cold, on my own



the earth laughs beneath my heavy feet

at the blasphemy in my old jangly walk

steeple guide me to my heart and home

the sun is out and up and down again



i know i'll make it

love can last forever

graceful swans of never topple to the earth

and you can make it last, forever you

can make it last, forever you



and for a moment i lose myself

wrapped up in the pleasures of the world

i've journeyed here and there and back again

but in the same old haunts i still find my friends

mysteries not ready to reveal

sympathies i'm ready to return



i'll make the effort,

love can last forever

graceful swans of never topple to the earth

tomorrow's just an excuse

tomorrow's just an excuse

and you can make it last, forever you










you can make it last, forever you

Update

In case you missed it:

On Friday I spent part of the night in the ER. Pleurisy. But the lady at Sherwood Urgent Care was retarded and said I might have a pulmonary embolism. Way to scare the crap out of me, wench! It's just pleurisy.

On Monday I came down with the flu. I don't ever get sick or go to the doctor. I was bedridden from Monday afternoon until, basically, Wednesday night. I was still taking it pretty easy last night and still am, mostly because I have the worst case of dizziness of my life. This vertigo is probably the result of a prolonged high fever for which I probably should have sought medical attention. Eh. If I didn't go to the doctor or hospital over the difficulty breathing, I wasn't going over no stinkin' fever. Once my dizziness and headache are gone, though, I should be good as new!

I got on my gmail at home today. It wasn't signed out. I was like "meh, better sign you out..." then I saw an email from a certain official. I was like "Hm, I wanna see what that meanie said! 'Cause I am not happy with HIM! Bein' all mean and STUFF!"

So yes, mayhaps I was in the wrong for reading it. But my intentions were actually very noble. I felt like if I could read it, then I would just be more entrenched with righteous indignation and I would have more to say in defense of my friend. But see, it said stuff that was NOT what I've been hearing. Stuff that would make a lot more sense given the current situation. Stuff that, if it WERE a lie, could be contested, and to not contest it would be, quite frankly, stupid.

And if it's the truth, then I have been lied to. But why would someone lie about that stuff? Just to cover up how irresponsible they are? But why? Don't we all already know they're irresponsible? What the heck? And if the email was a lie, then it can very easily be disproven, because several different professors would not be in on some conspiracy against one person. None of this is making sense. And I don't like it.

Now that I know this I don't even want to go home until my apartment is empty.

my lungs are filled with fluid.

tonight is not exactly the best time for me to be alone. guess that doesn't matter.

Name ten places you really wanna be before you die and then go to them

1. San Francisco.

2. New York City.

3. Washington, D.C.

4. Ireland (anywhere in Ireland, really).

5. In the company of Andrea, Tay, Rob, Jordan, Planet. On a daily basis.

6. A redwood forest.

7. Oregon/Washington. Pacific northwest.

8. Little Rock (what? At least I can make that one happen soon!)

9. Dallas Hare Krishna temple.

10. In the company of my pal Gabe.

i need more time. or i need to be more efficient with my time. working on it.

Give 'em hell, Henry

My Pawpaw, Henry Klotz, went to that big mechanic shop in the sky at about 9:30 a.m. on Saturday morning. I was sitting in the Derby building listening to my boss give a presentation to high school seniors. I got a text from my aunt that said "Pawpaw gone."

I had seen Pawpaw on Sunday. He was asleep, couldn't hardly rouse him. He slept all week. Nanny said she knew he was dying on Friday night, and stayed up all night with him.

I last talked to him at the end of August. It was Nanny and Pawpaw's 56th anniversary party. We had it in Pawpaw's hospital room. He was having a pretty good day (feeling-wise), and there was cake. By god, that man loved his cake, and he kept saying 'This is some gooooood cake!' Pawpaw, being the round little guy he was, loved food. He asked for more cake. Nanny wouldn't let him have it...so I got right up and got him another sliver. It was good cake, and I wasn't gonna deny the man his cake- he'd worked 56 years for that cake, and who knows when he'd be gone.

Henry Klotz was born in November of 1929 (sorry, Pawpaw, Clarissa always had to tell me what DAY) in Russell, Arkansas. By the time he was 13, he had a full time job delivering ice. He graduated from high school at 16 as class president. Ended up being sent to Korea during the Korean conflict, but not before meeting my Nanny. He wrote her from Korea. He was quite the ladies' man, though- he had such a bright personality and was so generous and kind to everyone. He and Nanny used to tell me about how he'd load up 10 or 15 people (mostly girls!) in his old car (they were bigger back then), some kids in the floorboard and some in the trunk, and he'd take 'em ALL to the movies, pay for their tickets, and get them a popcorn and coke. He was just good to people like that. Nanny recalls being livid with Pawpaw because once, as they were on their way to a movie date, they saw one of Pawpaw's female friends, and he just invited her right along to join them.

After he got back from Korea, Pawpaw and Nanny got married. Went to technical school in Oklahoma to be an auto mechanic. Had my Aunt Lela in Okmulgee. Moved back to Russell, built a house two houses down from his mama's (where he was born). Had my mother, Kris, in '65. Worked at General Industries, was Mayor of Russell for at least half my life then Treasurer for the other half. Had five grandchildren- Clarissa, Nick, Katherine, me, and Jake. Three great-grandchildren- Sela, Haleigh, Tristyn the Pageant Queen, and Ayden (he never met Ayden, but saw pictures). Was married to Nanny for 56 years. I never heard that man say one bad thing about anyone. He was smart and clever as a fox. Most patient man I've ever known, and kind. Drove me to my first job every single day for the first year, even when I didn't get off until 10:30 p.m. and never complained once about it. Favorite thing he ever said to me "There's nothing worth gettin' angry over. You either fix what's wrong, or don't worry about it. No use in bein' angry."

Pawpaw was also a funny man. Jokes all the time, sometimes off-color. Case in point. He showed me a picture and said "you know who that is? that's your uncle Charlie Klotz. he was a conductor!"
And I say "that's neat, pawpaw."
"Yeah, he got struck by lightening, killed him on the spot! He was an electrical conductor!"
*my jaw drops*

Pawpaw's visitation will be tonight, his going away party is tomorrow. I'm looking forward to the slide show. And I'd better hear some Johnny Cash. Pawpaw loved Johnny Cash.

I hear the train a comin'; it's rollin' 'round the bend,
And I ain't seen the sunshine since I don't know when.
I'm stuck at Folsom Prison and time keeps draggin' on.
But that train keeps rollin' on down to San Antone.
When I was just a baby, my mama told me,
"Son, Always be a good boy; don't ever play with guns."
But I shot a man in Reno, just to watch him die.
When I hear that whistle blowin' I hang my head and cry.
I bet there's rich folk eatin' in a fancy dining car.
They're prob'ly drinkin' coffee and smokin' big cigars,
But I know I had it comin', I know I can't be free,
But those people keep a movin', and that's what tortures me.
Well, if they freed me from this prison, if that railroad train was mine,
I bet I'd move on over a little farther down the line,
Far from Folsom Prison, that's where I want to stay,
And I'd let that lonesome whistle blow my blues away.




We're all sad to not have Pawpaw around, but now he can do a lot of things he hasn't been able to in two years. Drive a car (fast, really fast). Walk without arthritis (had it his whole life, literally). Drink without Nanny getting mad. He wouldn't want us to be sad. He's definitely not.

Live for today, you retarded little shit.

The end is near.

When did I become a cursing, smoking, shell-of-a-responsible human being.

When I pictured people who were all about love, they were clean (okay, they had some dirt under their feet and smelled a little funny), sedate, transcendent folks. The more I learn about love, the more I see how naive that was.

What's with all the F bombs lately, you ask? And in my Honesty Box, like a coward. Because it startles you out of your comfort zone, and it's fun to say.

STOP BEING COMFORTABLE. Stop it.

I'm making grad school plans. My living situation is going to be awesome. Why? because it's nonexistent.

and now, dear kitty cat,

i just read your comment on my post a few spaces down.

we are in agreement, then. i could print that out and highlight it and put it on my wall at home and yes. yes. yep. bad and good, take it all.

love you.

dear taylor,

whoa deja vu RIGHT NOW.

taylor, please know that i have never meant to attack you. if you felt attacked, i hope you will understand that really i wanted you to examine yourself, not attack you. i did have "i'm sorry" in there, but i erased it, because i'm not sorry and i shouldn't be. perhaps the words i said did not convey that point correctly, though, that i just wanted you to hear what i was hearing. maybe you did, but it seemed like you were talking from so far away. i know, i know, you examine yourself a lot, i know. but i wanted you to do it again, and i wanted you to hear what i thought, because i'll be fucking goddamned if i'm going to ever say anything sugarcoated ever again after last week. and i know what you were saying now about that honesty. i didn't understand fully before, but now i think i do. i've not been dishonest, but i have been sugarcoating all my life, because that is how i've survived. now, though, i hope that makes you smile; you were trying to get at that, i think, and i was just blocking it or not wanting to give into it or something. i don't know. i'm a scummy human. but i'm not. because no one is wholly good or wholly bad. we just are.

i love you. you know i am honest when i say that. we're trying, and that counts for something, i think. i don't know if we're trying in similar or different ways, and frankly i don't give a shit. and i don't care to be part of any groups. i love you and your friends, and i love your friends who i now consider to be my friends as well, but in the end we're all the same anyway, so what does it matter if you define it? that's just my perspective, but whaddo i know? not much.

i love you and will see you very soon and i will explode ALL OVER YOU. i promise you that. i wish i could make you feel anticipation tinged with fear by saying that, i'm starting to love fear. explosions. all over you!

that's just how i see it, but let's agree i'm sitting over here and you're sitting over there.

if any of this makes sense it will be miraculous.

Something I realized

My blog has been two things: A reflection of myself for me to get a glimpse of my psyche, and a sounding board for my ideas so that other people could read them. And you know what? I don't need it anymore. Maybe I'll post from time to time, but I'd rather be living my life. It's going to be short, you know. You can't eat from the Tree of Life and the Tree of Knowledge.

Name ten things you wanna do before you die and then go do them

1. Be pregnant and give birth to a child. At home, on the porch, in a blow-up tub. It's going to be a pizza party. If you're reading this, you are invited. We gon' have jamming and Oming and good baby havin' vibes. And I will moo like a cow. It will be wild.

2. Deliver a child as a midwife. I'll probably moo then, too. I love the moo.

3. Dumpster dive (which I will do soon! Excitement!).

4. Live in a communal situation in a big house with a big garden. AND GOATS. There must be goats. We will name said goats Crosby, Stills, and Nash. If we have a fourth goat, though, he will be named Neil, not Young.

5. Learn to knit. Knit a bunch of stuff.

6. Quit the 9-5 and live off of things I make. This includes purses, clothing off all sorts, baby slings, doula-in', maybe midwifery, foodies, dancing in the street, blah blah blah.

7. Go to San Francisco with a flower in my hair, by car or hitch or train, but not by plane.

8. Go to a National Rainbow Gathering.

9. Canoe (I haven't in a while).

10. Dance in another country. Random, but meh.

Things that used to be on the list that I don't care about anymore:

1. Get married. It's overrated. I may do it, but I don't think it's necessary for a healthy long term relationship. Wow, I am glad I can say that now. I used to be obsessed with marriage.

2. Get a Master's degree and/or Ph.D. I'll still do it, but it's only important in that it's a way for me to accomplish the ten things listed above.

3. Become a certified yoga instructor. Eh, I'll do it someday. Maybe.

4. Write a song. My friends write songs that are so good I'd rather listen to those.

5. Be a doctor. *hysterical laughter*

Turned on

I've found that moving my body a lot and nourishing it with what it needs results in a natural high that is really fantastic. Recently I've made the commitment to be a lot more active (as I am nearing my 25th birthday aka Metabolism Slow Down day) and eat better. Actually, I'm just going to put in list form the things which I am working toward, and not just in the realm of physical fitness...this is for me, but maybe someone will want to jump on the bandwagon!

1. Do more yoga. Yoga is such a high-inducing activity! I always feel so much better, and people always say "I feel so loose" after even a short yoga session. Gotta love this. Crap, that reminds me, I forgot my Sun Salutation this morning. I'll do it this afternoon.

2. Bike to work. I live about 2 miles from my workplace, which isn't a terribly long ride, though it is mostly uphill on the way to work. :P It is so fun, though, and I see things I haven't noticed in my car. It also promotes a slower and more focused lifestyle; I can't just zip over to Wal-Mart on my lunch hour, and if I start craving evil corporate food from McDonald's or wherever...just can't go get it! Oh yeah! So it gives me a great workout and view while preventing me from making not-so-good choices! It's a win-win! I'm going to work on JUST using my bike in town and never driving the car. It's also funny to see how people react sometimes. I get offered rides constantly, as if riding a bike must mean I'm down-and-out and need a ride or I must be lost and in need of help. Man, cars suck. They even have an effect on the psyche, I've noticed. I'll post more on that later. Aw, man! Riding the bike and doin' yoga...it's freein' my mind!

3. Eat a *mostly* raw vegan diet. A Moire, everyone knows I'm Irish and thus making every form of potato and cabbage dish...ever...but I'm going to shoot for as much raw and as much vegan as possible. I've found a recipe for nut milk that only requires a blender, so I got m'milk. Soy cheese is awesome, though I'm sure I'll indulge in regular cheese sometimes. Obviously, trying to go full veg. It's better anyway. We'll see how this goes.

4. Start a green smoothie binge. Still gotta get the blender. BUT, green smoothies are awesome. You smooth up the fruit, add a handful of spinach (which you can't taste). I will be sharing this with friends. It's going to be fantastic.

5. Watch my words. Which is a great segway into what I found in my inbox this morning. I subscibe to "Daily OM", a really insightful newsletter. Here's what it said this morning:

September 3, 2009
Choose Your Words

Failure
The word failure puts forward a very simplistic way of thinking that allows for only two possibilities: failure or success. Few things in the universe are black and white, yet much of our language reads as if they are. The word failure signifies a paradigm in which all subtlety is lost. When we regard something we have done, or ourselves, as a failure, we lose our ability to see the truth, which is no doubt considerably more complex. In addition, we hurt ourselves. All you have to do is speak or read the word failure and see how it makes you feel. At some point, the word may not have been so loaded with the weight of negativity, and it simply referred to something that did not go according to plan. Unfortunately, in our culture it is often used very negatively, such as when a person is labeled a failure, even though it is impossible for something as vast and subtle as a human being to be reduced in such a way. It also acts as a deterrent, scaring us from taking risks for fear of failure. It has somehow come to represent the worst possible outcome. Failure is a word so burdened with fearful and unconscious energy that we can all benefit from consciously examining our use of it, because the language we use influences the way we think and feel. Next time you feel like a failure or fear failure, know that you are under the influence of an outmoded way of perceiving the world. When the world failure comes up, it’s a call for us to apply a more enlightened consciousness to the matter at hand. When you are consciously aware of the word and its baggage you will not fall victim to its darkness. In your own use of language, you may choose to stop using the word failure altogether. This might encourage you to articulate more clearly the truth of the situation, opening your mind to subtleties and possibilities the word failure would never have allowed.

Our words have a lot of power. We should thus be very careful with them.

It's All Happening

Blah blah blah shit to do. I have a new boss at work. She's really great, so far as I can tell. I've been procrastinating my last two baby slings. Not cleaning my house. Staying at work til 8 p.m. (some of that is pipe band).

Today I start piano lessons for the first time in nearly three years. I don't really need piano lessons; I can play the piano quite well and I'm actually not a bad teacher. I just need the accountability, so I arranged to do a lesson every other week just so I can work up some new songs and have a reason to practice.

I also start yoga sessions again today. Last year I led yoga every Wednesday. Hopefully people will come; I think it's going to be good. At least my playlist is good. I think. I'll list the asanas we do tomorrow in case anyone in Internetland wants to do it. Or maybe I'll post a video. Except that I don't have a way to post a video.

I hate not looking forward to anything. I'm not really working for anything right now. Last week it was the weekend. I'm not even looking forward to this weekend much; I have to model in Bald Knob then go to Little Rock on Saturday to deal with doula stuff (which, by the way, is getting to be more tedious than fun) and on Sunday I play for a church. My only day off is Monday, and I'm not sure if anyone will want to hang out with me. My family wants a piece of me that day, but I can't afford all that gas. I'm cranky. This is how I'm thinking of my interactions these days: people just want a piece of me. Isn't that terrible? I don't mean a piece of me in a good way, either, like giving your heart to others or whatever. A piece of me that I don't want to give them, time that I don't want to give up for activities that don't fulfill me. I don't really want to drive to Bald Knob EVERY Saturday, but the artist who paints me needs to finish the painting. He's my friend, but I just don't want to go EVERY Saturday. I miss sleeping in on Sundays, but the church I play for doesn't have a pianist (I may quit soon anyway). Some of my friends only come see me when they want something (see past two posts...that friend in particular is at it again). No I am not a cigarette dispenser. I am never making waffles at 4 a.m. for you ever again. Did I mention my roommate doesn't pay rent even though my bills have now doubled due to having two people in my house? Cranky. I may move into my car after all. I'm beginning to see, at least, who my real friends are in the Ark. Dave, to my surprise, is a good friend. I think he's doing a lot better this year. Robert is a good friend, not surprisingly. Other than that...eh.

I know I'm supposed to just push through frustration, but right now I'm not sure how to do that. I don't even know what I'm angry about.

There are several skills I'm working to develop in preparation for dropping out. Foraging. Shit, I suck at foraging, I'll probably die by accidentally eating a pokeberry. Gotta learn it, though. Dumpster diving. I don't need anything at all, having a real job for two years has satiated all my basic needs as far as clothes and blankies are concerned, but I have never scrounged for food and, frankly, I'd like to learn. Not paying for food means I can save money to buy a huge house for a thousand people to live in. I feel like if I can learn that kind of stuff, and also have a hidden garden somewhere in the woods, I'll be on my way to self-sufficiency and dropping out completely. Wouldn't it be cool to be a scientist for the Nature Conservancy who lives in a tent and only comes out of the woods to collect data? Fuck yeah it would. Or living on a farm with goats and we only go into town for entertainment and try to give away some of the joy we live to the poor spiritually impoverished members of society still stuck in the rat race. I'm excited about living just to survive and enjoy others. I kind of hate the situation I'm in now. I have a lot of monetary obligations, so I have to keep working, but I'd really just like a survivalist lifestyle. Once those obligations are met, I'm totally dropping out. I'm going to draw up a list to start working on it this month. Get rid of all my furniture (well, what's left of it). Sleep in the woods more. Go nuts. Be insane. Give me ideas.

Shit, where will I put my cat?

Okay, Fuck Back On

After a long heart-to-heart with the person who hurt me, I feel a lot better. No one is beyond redemption. It seems those who seem the most selfish and apathetic are also the most lost and in need of care.

Much better. Also, I can still do Calculus. I am le pimp. I woke up this morning meowing in the most chipper fashion. Today is the day to talk to me. I am in the best fucking mood ever.

Stay. Away. From. Me.

I don't even know why I ever trusted this person. All they've ever done is use me and hurt me and make me feel like crap. And in return, all I've ever done is try to show love and concern, sometimes tough love, but love nonetheless.

I don't know why I have ever tried to help this person. Any "love" they reciprocated was certainly not actually love, they say, but some misguided attempt to make me feel better by leading me on for a while. What the hell is that? Then they go and tell people things that are completely confidential (or so I thought!), wholly upsetting, and totally wrenching for me to have to deal with again. FOR ME to have to deal with, because let me mention, they didn't deal with them at all. They may think they have, may tell people they did, but they WERE NOT THERE and never were. They weren't there, they didn't really care to be there, but they really should have been there. It was the most painful thing, physically and emotionally, that ever happened to me in life. Ever. And I went through it totally alone.

The worst part about it is, they feel nothing. I think I'm dealing with a real clinical sociopath. They say "oh, I feel bad" but you don't see any kind of emotion or hear it in their voice. They don't feel bad. They only feel bad because it is socially acceptable for them to say that after hurting someone, and it isn't socially acceptable to say "You know, I don't really care. Screw you." They hang around with people just for kicks, not to have some real connection to them. I dare you to try connecting to this person. It's like hitting a brick wall. Unless, of course, you've got something they want. Then they'll love you a lot. Until they have it. Then you're nothing again.

Toxic vibes. He has toxic, toxic vibes. Maybe that's why I'm never at ease around him.
His soul seems to be about as well made as his physical body which, I told him, was "manufactured and assembled by little eight year olds in China. And the instructions were in Russian. And the Chinese kids didn't have any thumbs." Maybe he's a living, breathing Grinch.

I understand that communication is helpful, but some people are wanting to MAKE me talk to them about something I don't want to talk with them over. I can talk about it, but it is not your business, and I don't want to make it your business. It's the business of the piece of shit bloodsucking sociopath. Obviously, he's not talkin', but it is not something I just love to gab about. You talk about the worst thing that's ever happened to you with someone whom you feel totally uncomfortable talking about it with. Go ahead. You'll love it.

This is getting ridiculous. Everybody fuck off.

Everybody is Somebody

http://www.songza.com/

search "the weepies somebody loved"

enjoy!

Enough with the baby dreams, already!

Let me just say this: I am not pregnant!

However, my brain seems to be. Or wants me to be. Or what have you.

I NEVER DREAM. I still had sleep disturbances as usual, but somehow I had a dream. And I remembered it! My memory was jogged this morning. I had gotten some breakfast for Jameson, and I had been up at school and didn't want to exclude Jon the Little Brother, so he was there. He was wearing a Star Wars-themed shirt from his high school chess team. Then I remembered!

My dream was in the Star Wars universe. Holy yeesh. I was pregnant and had a daughter in this dream. We were somehow in the Star Wars story. I wasn't really a particular character, but I knew Luke Skywalker and I HATED Hans Solo. I could dissociate, though; I KNEW I was in Star Wars, and it totally tripped me out. I even joked "heh, if this kid were a boy I could have named him Anakin Skywalker" (even though the father wasn't Luke Skywalker, that I could gather). Luke was very protective of my daughter, and Luke had a teenaged son who also looked after her. We were all very close.

The only action I remember about the dream (rather than just inherent knowledge of the situation, as above) was that Luke went off to fight the Empire and his son stayed with me and my daughter. Oh! And I was carrying her around thinking "I MAKE baby slings...why the heck don't I have one? I should go home and make one right away!"

I know when one dreams about snakes it signals change...what the hell do dream babies mean!?

Damn you, hormones. Damn you.

In the Womb

Last night I had a very vivid dream, which is the only kind of dream I ever remember. I never sleep through the night, either; I have frequent sleep disturbances. Neither do I sleep well. Sleep just does not like me, and I rarely dream. I think it's because my body knows if I sleep too deeply the fairies will really carry me off.

My dream started with me looking at my stomach. I was in a house with a male. But the male was like a three-in-one. It was my brother Jake, my brother Taylor, and Robert. Their energies are all somewhat similar (especially Jake and Tay, they're pretty laid back, Taylor is just more open), so it was like they were just the same person whose shape and personality would change. They were all manifesting from this one source at different points.

So I was sitting on this couch with this guy looking at my tummy. At that point the guy was my brother Jake. Jacob gets up, and I remark that I would like, very much, to have a baby. I hear Taylor "Well, then, you're going to have one" and suddenly I feel something in my tummy and it starts to grow. Rapidly. Not huge, just like I'm poking my tummy out. I realize there's a baby in there. And he's moving. He's moving a lot! The tummy grows more, and I start to look very pregnant. And I float back into my mind and in my mind the baby and I are very connected and I'm holding the baby on some astral plane and he's smiling and is fully present in that astral plane even though he is aware his body is in my womb. It was very beautiful and eerie. We could read each others' thoughts. I come back, and he's still just kicking around in there. It was an odd feeling, to say the least, but simultaneously very comforting. I liked the feeling. I noticed that I could bring my tummy back to where it is now, but I didn't want to hurt the baby by restricting its space, so I just let it be.

Then, I was sitting on this couch, and Robert was there. He rubbed my stomach, but I was kind of annoyed by it. I was basically just humoring him and letting him touch my tummy, but I didn't really want him to, because he was being all weird about it and not just jiving with the flow. Then Tay was sitting in a chair across from us, and telling me just to chill and everything would be fine.

And that was the end of the dream.

Anamcharas

I was reading another friend's blog, and it occurred to me, as it has occurred to me before, how I feel I've known people in past lives. Everytime I see this friend, my brain doesn't recognize my acquaintance. It recognizes him just as much as my current blood brothers. My brain sends signals to my body that recognize: "sibling!" (I can't tell very well whether brother or sister) So I thought I'd write about my past friends and family, how I see it now. Maybe, as it all develops, I'll get a clearer picture and some of this will be a little off when I look back. But it's getting there. Slowly, the picture is developing.

I had a mother-figure, though I think she was really my older sister. Our mother was so busy that she pretty much raised me. In the past, she was crone-like, even at a young age. Not that she looked old, she was just very full of wisdom. She had to work really hard all the time, but had more time to be with me than our mother. She was very strong in personality, but gentle. She tried to teach me things I wasn't ready to learn. We lived in a very rural area, a village maybe, but everyone was very close and we had many friends.

In this time, she is a friend of mine who is ten years older than I. We met at a festival, and didn't talk too terribly much for the first year or so (in which we saw each other two or three times). Then, finally, one day I stopped to talk with her and she said "I feel a very strong connection to you" (which is what I had been thinking since I met her). She is still teaching me things, but I'm more ready to learn them in this life, though the lessons are sinking in just slowly, like a percolator. I'm more eager to learn, though, too. That helps. She is like my mother, sister, and my friend, and I realized why about a year ago. She's my older sister.

I had a twin. Either a twin or a VERY close sibling. I feel like we were twin sisters, maybe. That soul was much older than mine, though, and she could learn what our sister taught much easier than I. We loved each other so dearly, and we had an intimate psychic connection. But she left for some reason and I was heartbroken. I don't remember where she went, but her soul got more and more refined from the journey.

In this life she is a he. I felt great anticipation about meeting him; it was a reunion. I wanted to cry when I saw him for the first time on a stage. I wanted to touch touch touch him. Not sexually, not romantically, I had just missed his soul so much and needed to be around it. I kissed him fervently, he was my sister but brother now, and his soul had grown more beautiful and he won't need to be here for too many more lifetimes once he gets through frustration. I felt so connected to him that it was scary. I often felt connected to him when he was far away, maybe he didn't feel it. Who knows? But I got a very strong flash of our previous connection just weeks ago. It was a Friday, and I was supposed to go visit him and some other souls on Sunday. Friday morning, all was well, I was still planning to leave Sunday, but sometime that afternoon my brows suddenly furrowed and my stomach churned. My eyes closed a little. I was in my kitchen. Something bad was happening. I needed to go. Sure enough, it was time to go.

I'll write more later. But those are my siblings.

A scenario for the revolution

Love with abandon. Love with complete, total trust and forget inhibitions. Love like you've never been hurt. Love like there's no way you could possibly be hurt. Love like there is no past and the future is everliving. Love like this is IT. Because THIS IS IT. This is all you've got!

Ram Das said: "I'm going to die! Dig that! I'm going to live! Dig that!" Good and bad things are going to happen, the only pain reliever, the only thing to make the highs higher is to love as one having an ecstatic, spiritual experience. Love like you're watching your bride walk toward you (even if you're female). Love with such delight that you rival the three-year-old giggling endlessly while watching a slinky go down thirty flights of stairs.

If you do everything with great love, the whole world will come alive.

Love with abandon. This is it!

Floating thoughts

I met with the kids that I was supposed to meet with. It was ecstatic and calm and crazy and lovely. It was everything I hoped it would be and everything it was supposed to be. We jammed and recorded and screamed and dogpiled. We visited the Hare Krishnas- twice- and ate prasadam and made some monk friends and danced and chanted like a hummingbird on acid and meth. You need to have that spiritual experience.

We've got to keep the momentum. Keep your momentum. Don't compromise. Don't slow down. Don't get bored. Don't get complacent. Go go go. Love. And smile!

"Keep your heart open. Push through frustration. Open, open, open up. I love everyone so much!"

I go back to work tomorrow, and now I am really stoked to do it. I guess I'm not stoked to have a schedule, but I'm a lot looser now about time. Finally. I used to be so anal retentive about punctuality. I don't need that.

I'm going a few miles north today to a little town where a mad socialist is stripping bark with his comrades, one of which will be me in a few hours. I haven't seen him in about two years, but in my memory he has a remarkable pattern of energy. He knows a lot of things I don't. They'll be using the tree sacrifices to erect a cabin that will begin a collective in Alexander, AR. If anyone can do it, Kenny can.









Light up, light up
As if you have a choice
Even if you cannot hear my voice
I'll be right beside you, dear.

Full Moon

Full moon tonight. Go dance under it.

Charge of the Star Goddess

By Doreen Valiente, adapted by Starhawk

Listen to the words of the Great Mother, Who of old was called Artemis, Astarte, Dione, Melusine, Aphrodite, Cerridwen, Diana, Arionrhod, Brigid, and by many other names:

Whenever you have need of anything, once a month, and better it be when the moon is full, you shall assemble in some secret place and adore the spirit of Me Who is Queen of all the Wise.

You shall be free from slavery, and as a sign that you be free you shall be naked in your rites.

Sing, feast, dance, make music and love, all in My Presence, for Mine is the ecstasy of the spirit and Mine also is joy on earth.

For My law is love is unto all beings. Mine is the secret that opens the door of youth, and Mine is the cup of wine of life that is the cauldron of Cerridwen, that is the holy grail of immortality.

I give the knowledge of the spirit eternal, and beyond death I give peace and freedom and reunion with those that have gone before.

Hear the words of the Star Goddess, the dust of Whose feet are the hosts of Heaven, whose body encircles the universe:

I Who am the beauty of the green earth and the white moon among the stars and the mysteries of the waters,

I call upon your soul to arise and come unto me.

For I am the soul of nature that gives life to the universe.

From Me all things proceed and unto Me they must return.

Let My worship be in the heart that rejoices, for behold, all acts of love and pleasure are My rituals.

Let there be beauty and strength, power and compassion, honor and humility, mirth and reverence within you.

And you who seek to know Me, know that the seeking and yearning will avail you not, unless you know the Mystery: for if that which you seek, you find not within yourself, you will never find it without.

For behold, I have been with you from the beginning, and I am That which is attained at the end of desire.

Fear

I'm afraid of everything. Just everything. Mostly it's security, and financial in nature, which makes me ashamed. I'm afraid of failure. I'm afraid of not being educated enough. I'm afraid of not doing what I want to do as an occupation. But I want to be out in creeks and meadows twirling and eating fruit and loving and playing and singing. Instead, I am working in air conditioning toward I-don't-know-what and pursuing a graduate degree so I can pay off my debt...by accruing more debt first and being alone. Fuck my life. I have come to the tipping point. I have come to the edge. It is time to jump off or walk back down the hill to the village that is this shitty existence we like to call the American Dream. The American Dream is telling me to get a Ph.D in order to be a big bad scientist so she can say "OH WORLD LOOK HOW SUCCESSFUL I AM I KNOW SO MUCH I AM ALL POWERFUL DEPARTMENT CHAIR."

The jumper just wants to play (and will settle for a Master's degree). It's like birth. Ha, everything to me is birth. Shall I take the epidural and have a forgetful time, or will I go for the ride and find transcendence?

Trouble is, I don't know how to stop being afraid. I just want to work and pay off this shit so I can stop worrying about it. I think I'm just going to say "Fuck everything" and just be at peace with what happens. I am not the money I make. I am not the job I have. I am not the debt I owe. What can be taken from me? My living space? It's too expensive and I'm alone all the time anyway. I'm gonna live in my car (unless you want to room with me). My car? I can bike, and I have a tent. My credit? I don't want any anyway. Why would I buy a house or anything from this ugly system of buy, guilt, throw away, guilt, etc? My education? I already have all that I REALLY need. My freedom. HA. I've sacrificed it long enough to the rat race for what? Nothing. I'm a little older, a little fatter, a lot more depressed, and discontent. I'm learning things that make sense, and the things I am learning are in stark contrast to the path I'm on.

AH GAH I feel like if I just make it to these people I feel cosmically kin to maybe it'll be alright.

Listen to your intuition, mama. Your body knows what to do. Don't be scared. Trust it.
Your body won't stop.

Let go.

Quickening has come and gone. This is pre-labor.

Let go.

It doesn't have to hurt. It's only painful if you fight it.

Let go.

I feel you everywhere.

Love is my Religion

Thought I had on the way to work.

Before every decision, every action, one must consider how to do it with the greatest Love.

This has the potential to really get me back on track. Back to vegetarianism. Back to biking to work, to FULL daily yoga sessions. Back to unending patience, I've gotten a little caught up in the energy of the world. World energy, or more appropriately, rat-race energy is tornadic. Just focusing on paying bills has been draining! I am working through my money-fear issues. The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak. If I can relate it all to love, which is my primary focus, then I think that will work out better.

On my Facebook, I list my Religious Views as "Love." I never cared what people thought of this until recently, when I started to wonder what some of my spiritual friends would think. I have Christian friends, Wiccan friends, Buddhist friends, Hindu friends, Heathen friends, and they all know I agree with their personal religious choices. Why am I not identifying myself with a group, then? At the risk of sounding "indecisive," I feel that I fall into too many camps to say "I am all Pagan" or "I am all Christian" or "I am all Hindu". I'm sure everyone feels that way, and I guess I could say eclectic, but even the theme of my personal spirituality doesn't fit into a specific religious paradigm often enough for me to feel comfortable telling someone "I AM THIS...mostly." So when I really thought about it, thought about why I do what I do spiritually, what makes me flow through life, what I believe in, the highest good, the resounding answer was Love. And I hadn't even heard the Ziggy Marley song at that time.

Might As Well...

Everyone has a blog, everyone's an expert. I might as well jump on the bandwagon; at least I like what I have to say...

Last weekend Kim, one of the midwives teaching doula classes, discussed some literature she'd read about pain as a manifestation of negative emotions rather than physical injury. I'm very aware of the psychosomatic effects of stress; I was medicated for a while in order to reclaim my body. But this isn't just about stress. It's about anger, sadness, resentment. She said "Now, anytime I feel an ache I think 'What am I mad about?'" Right now I feel like there's a spur in my heel. I've spent the past week worrying about bone spurs. Why? No reason. I'm just hoping I haven't manifested one. So...I wonder who I'm pissed at...

For the first time since graduating from college, I am busy this week. Seriously, folks, try being a single childless twenty-something with an 8-5 job, very few friends in town, and not enough expendable money to see your out-of-town friends. I miss the busy times. But they're back! In the next week I have to:

1) Reteach myself to play three classical piano pieces of . I'm playing for a church on Sunday. I enjoy pretending I can play the organ. These people seriously haven't caught on. Fantastic!

2) Reinforce the stitches on a baby sling I made for a silent auction. Hey, everyone! Buy a baby sling from me!!!

3) Type up descriptions of items for the auction mentioned above.

4) Complete an online chem lab for a relative. What?! I never cheated in my life! I'm just doing her homework. I enjoy chemistry and nurses in a clinical setting don't really need to know the exact composition of a hydrate, so my conscience is clear.

5) Make six dozen cookies. Two are for a play on Friday, four for a wedding on Saturday. I also have to decorate the four dozen cookies. While all of you are watching TV or playing with your babies, I will be baking on Thursday night.

6) Attend and clean up at "BIRTH" on Friday night. This is a play happening in Little Rock at 7 p.m. at UALR. I'm supposed to get the world to go, so World, go.

7) Reestablish my exercise routine. I haven't had one of those since college! I've only gained about 5 pounds and an inch and a half on my waistline, but I feel like poop. We'll see how this running business goes. I hope I don't have a bone spur...