Even Mr. Cat's miraculous jumping cure has failed.

I am full of hate, teeny and white hot.

grrrr

So, I have all this free time on my hands.

All the permits, licenses, fees, and forms, filed, paid, filled out.

Everything is pending.

Renderings are rendered and tendered.

My CEU hours are insane, I'm certified in damn near everything....

And now, the waiting has begun in earnest. I should be calling folks, grabbin beers, watchin the game, doin a bit of lunch.

Instead, I have holed up in my office, and I am making mad art.

I WANT to call, do lunch, do dinner, do drinks, watch the game, I want to See friends, connect, call and check on peeps. I need a hug, or punched in the sack, and Gods know I need a lip and brow wax (The Hypocrisy!)

But I am so focused on this project that I forget to talk. I am so wound up over this project that I have taken to grinding my teeth all night...but I don't really have any teeth...so now both of my front teeth are chipped to Hell, and opening my mouth HURTS!

I have all this time, and I could probably get something done about the teeth, but I mainly sit here, waiting for something to happen. It will be a week to ten days before anything will happen, but that doesn't stop my focus on waiting for it. The business won't be opening for 10-12 weeks, and there's NOTHING I can do to make the time pass faster.

So I SHOULD go do things, see people, call people, get my teeth fixed, but I am just sitting in my office fretting myself sick.

I need Byz to mock me until I get a life.

Geez, sometimes I annoy the shit out of me.

YES!

Right this very minute, the future of the spa is being decided.

If you gotta second, mutter me a prayer, pleeeeze...

1. The DVM anyone who doesn't see a theological basis for Dante's Purgatorio is not a licensed driver in Pennsylvania Lesson: When confronted with utter chaos, remain patient and calm. The calm controlled will emerges victorious.

2. The Phone Company These people are not your friends Lesson: Stand firm in the face of mindless bueracracy and petty tyrants. Enlist rightfully elected officials to force big business to abide by its contractual obligations.

3 The Dog a great love and willingness to please is useless if applied in the wrong direction, or miscommunicated. Who knows how long the dog begged to go out up on the third floor while I was waiting by the front door on the first floor to take her out. Lesson: Aim matters.

...but it hates being dissected. Try to assess, heart racing, palms, small of back sweaty, mouth dry, eyes hot and burning...
Struggle for mastery of breath
Succeed for one minute...two...three...ok...ok...
bam
all progress lost
Start over and over and over
What makes it like this?
Is it all bad? It is the same nervous energy that makes a lot of what I do possible, mastery of it is the shortcut to the good speaking voice,,,the hyper-sensitive, over-wrought emotions lead to poetry, power, connection with spirit...

Out of control, it creates stagnation, fear, phobia, hallucination...
In control, it allows ecstasy, epiphany, super human amounts of chop wood, carry water...
I love it when all the choices are mine.
Otherwise, it is war.

Today, the battleground is weary of being overrun with soldiers. It wants not for combative blood. It wants a calm blue sky, to detox in peace...it wants to digest its foul smelling, nasty tasting powerful herbs in warmth and stillness.

Shivering, the battleground grumps off to do the bare minimum of its daily requirements. Its permission was never asked.

is what I named my new scooter.

As in "My other ride is..."

I got her today. She is bigger than I planned, and now I need to get a motorcycle permit on Monday...

and I totally sucked at riding her! thank God alien_rockstar was totally the man and rode off into the sunset with his curls ludicrously boinging!

She is a 10-year old Honda Elite 80 not a brand new nameless Chinese bike. I got her from a returning Iraqi-war vet, giant dyke cool gal offa craigslist...

I have the bad scooterlove!

cusm or vocis any playtime? I will post a pic of her lovliness tomorrow!

How I got like this...( Read more... )

1.Dear Universe,

I am tired now. I don't want to hear another peep out of you. Otherwise, no cartoons after school tomorrow.

2 After, God knows how many hours, days, weeks wasted...I finally beat Zuma. Hah.

I got home from DC around Midnight. About the time that the last folks were finishing the move. I wanted to stay til it was all done, but my life and the train schedule do not mix!Good dog Moko was so happy to see me! Her whole funny dogbody just wriggled, and quivered, tail slamming so hard into stuff that I was afraid she was hurting herself!

alien_rockstar was quieter about being happy to see me, but seemed glad I came home. Between the mobile/homeless/transitional emergency appendectomy and Body Tribal, my own life is pretty derailed. Tomorrow morning, we pick up the rental truck, drive damn near to Baltimore, load a heavy expensive piece of spa equipment, turn around and head right back, without even a minute to see family or friends (unless they want to spend 30 minutes lifting, lugging, and sweating...) When we get the spa pod home the punk princess and her friends will help us unload it...God knows where...

Somewhere in here I have to finish up with location negotiations, and make a final, well-thought-out choice. (Our original choice became prohibitively $$$ with trying to meet ADA compliance.) I need to spend time with oldest daughter. I need to finish up some paperwork. I need to shower. I need a haircut. I need 30 hour days for the next week! Sheesh!

My life is a fart in a whirlwind.

I am the only person sleeping here tonight that lacks a sleep apnea device. feel underdressed for bed. What to do...what to do...

Early last week, I owed a post about Body Tribal 08, and a thanks to all who rocked my world...alien_rockstar (familiarity does NOT breed contempt) reaper_ramone gogDAMN meng-you were on fire! springiswraththe big ballzman...eyeball mike and christie, goodhandzjair the wizzard of voudoutattoo, and ng_tracey for being there, keeping the home fire burning and stepping up big time for Body Tribal.

I am inside the Beltway for the first time since the funeral. Spending the final hours in the fairy flophouse. My brother is bouncing back fast strong and deep. The whole getting here/being here/helping here has been a pilgramage for us into the cathedral of chaos. Hail Eris! It is deep and thick, to take down, pack up, wrap up; memory, both personal and tribal run like rain down my head, pour into my eyes. Blind me Spirit to my own flaws, prevent the ego trap from eating my effective feet. Bind me, Spirit, to purpose and committment to this most remarkable transformation. Break me on the wheel, that I may follow the example of those both more foolish and more wise than myself that I may be a tool of both surrender and control.

Boundary issues are the traps set in this transition, and each one presents an opportunity to show a mastered skill: to intervene, to delegate, to confront. There seems to be a final exam taking place. I believe that we are doing well in our tests. Mazel Tov!

New friends and old, the spiral contracting and releasing in death throes that are birth pains. Intent is the midwife and even the pain feels bright and clean. The conk on the head was needed, but unpleasant. The low-brow epiphany:

Voudou Kamikaze:

1 oz. Absolut New Orleans (Mango and Black Pepper)
1 oz. Triple SEc
2/3 oz Rose's Gimlet Lime Juice
Shake over ice

THe High Brow epiphany is more complex. More personal.

My personal test is that my mother and sister are moving over a thousand miles to live near me. The army has caused this to happen. And I can't sleep, or eat right, or anything. This is not a boon. They have a whole world, and I have one rust-belt beloved city, home place. I was brought to a homeplace by a family that was the greatest gift of Gods. A family that corrects my wrongs, and forgives them, celebrates my accomplishments, shores up my weakneses, and exercises my strengths. These people are my family, not those who brow-beat, abused, humiliated, rejected, and scarred me.

By the living dirt of Four Quarters, by the hammering steel heart of Pittsburgh, by the bits of DC that still nourish and sustain me.
With my Love in my heart and soul, tending hearth and home, and sending me to do what I can
With my daughters blazing a bright golden trail ahead of me, running further that I wil ever witness
With my Brother mending strong, rhino heart pouring golden light in the sun
With my clan, with my tribe, with my Church all around me giving me guidance and strength
With my Gods on my Right Hand
And my Demons at my Left
They are just two more people. They taught me all I needed to learn to overcome.
They are just two more people
With the Love, the Church, the Tribe and the Clan that the Gods have given me. the chain breaks here.
Gone is their power to harm and judge me. I am not the child now, I am the Mother, in my den, and it is for my young I fight these battles.
The Gods have wrought this.
Let them come. I will neither help nor hinder, but I wil bear witness.
They can not hurt me or mine ever ever again.
As it is written, so mote it be.

The hours of the fairy flop house tick to their inevitable end, and a public servant begins to move toward becoming a private master. Blessed will be those who will be trained by the master. The history of a brief but golden chapter will be a beacon in his memory, and he will prosper more beautifully as a free man than even his stewardship as a public servant, bound by his own promise gave.

Let freedom ring.

I feel good
The trees were good to me.
Good times with peeps, happy news, a blessed event, and long overdue scheduled hangouts planned for Body Tribal

Non-grumpy!

So, a week with the czarina is drawing to a close...trip to Kenneywood...eating too much pizza-(alien_rockstar and I both have tummy crummy!) riding the incline, buying supplies, making art, watching tv, basically a week of life as an eight-year old in an over 40 body...eep!

I am in a helluva mood. Thank gods we are off to the farm tomorrow-think I needs me some woodses.

Sold my beloved camaro, getting rid of the not beloved mini-van (Goddess speed it away from me!) and am getting ready to try life on a 49cc scooter. I am both terrified and thrilled at the idea. I am actually buying a brand new one-my first new vehicle EVAR-uh...and it's a moped...I don't even know how to feel about that...

Otherwise, I feel all beshit and forty miles from water. My beadwork is not challenging me, so I start a piece, then pull it apart from boredom, dissatisfaction, or a need to be destructive.

But tomorrow-the woodses. We are pre-reg'd for Body Tribal, tomorrow we will fork over the ducats, all will be well. I needs trees.

Either I will snap outta this funk, or I will appear at Body Tribal as Genghis Kan with an impacted gum boil!

(I contemplate myself friendless and the target of rocks)

Enough with the emo shit, a little Dead Kenedys or REvCo and all should be better-maybe I have not been LOUD enough lately.
'

Dear Dead Guy,

I hope you had a nice birthday...uh, is it still your birthday, I wonder...cause maybe now what I think of as your death day is actually your birthday...I guess you get to stay 36 forever. I have spent the past day in a total funk, crabby, absent-minded, and weepy. Just cracked out on video games. Everyone is being remarkably patient, but I am gonna try to snap out of it pretty quick-no sense pressing my luck...Things are pretty steady here in the Burgh...normal and predictable hook-ups and break ups and fuck ups through all the friends and family.

I am less mad at you this year. While I was thinking that through, the irony and anger hit at the same time when I realized that the last three sentences you ever spoke to me were lies, I hadn't thought of that before...The end of that phone call you said 1) That you were starving and wanted to go get food. 2) That you would call me back in an hour. 3) That you'd see me soon.

The thing that bugs me, dear dead guy, is that I will never ever ever know if you knew you were lying when you said it.

I haven't really slept in a few days...so before I start typing past the point of no return key, I think I'll repeat my (possibly irrelevant) birthday wish and shut up...

I am sorry that all your dreams are might have beens now.

When the first glass shattered earlier, I thought that maybe eggun knew I had a nice treat for them today.
But when the second glass shattered,
I thought that maybe crystal from Big Lots was not as good an idea on closer examination

After not too much deliberation alien_rockstar and I have decided to utterly bag the whole plan to vend at Sirius/Starwood. (We have not discussed the relief this created...)

The whole 'spa in the trees' thing has been cool, but waaay too much work (2 full days of set-up, 2 full days of tear down, and about 4 hours a day of sanitation, and maintenance)

The spa in the 'real world' is getting closer to real, and I think I will be the world's most grateful girl to move all the gear INSIDE, and leave it there...

The last outdoor spa gig will be Stones Intensive/Stones Rising, and that will be a pathway of service...

Today, we rented a little storage room for all the spa equipment and got it out of our living room and dining room-I anticipate a vast psycological improvement from being able to WALK around downstairs. Our last biggio will be going to Baltimore to bring the biggest baddest bestest spa toy home, and that needs to happen ASAP...jeez...an adventure...


We may still swing up to Sirius for a few days to see peeps, dunno; we will obey the dictates of whim.

This, of course, swings Body Tribal back into the cosmic question mark. Lotta consideration there.( Read more... )

I caught poison ivy!!!!
I Love it! It has little red itchy vesicles on my lower left leg-about 20 of them. They itch like fire.
I LOVE MY RASH!
I have not thrown up! I have not thrown down!

The poison ivy was not the deluxe upgraded norovirus model.
I do have minor chemical burns on my wrists and hands from sanitizer, but that will mend in a day or so.

I caught the edges of social drama
Do not fester. To fester is bad.

That is all I caught, except I caught up with many friends and had many moments of happiness.

And it rained. A lot.
But we were dry, and not sick.

...but for you soap opera posturers, this is a broad sided warning: I choose to live at the Farm in a zero-Oscar tolerance zone. If I I am not directly involved, don't drag me into your interpersonal cesspits.My tolerance for seventh grade girls school social behavior is miniscule, and my problem solving skills will undoubtedly not be to your liking. There are indeed folks at the Farm who work my last nerve, but I am too busy enjoying the Land, the Church, and the Tribe to be bothered gossip-mongering or witch hunting.

Otherwise, I had a great time. My love was loving, my friends were friendly, and I got to make some connections that were overdue. The drumming was good-I contributed vastly to that by never touching a drum!

I also feel like I should say something about the passing of Jesse Helms. My high school and college years were spent in North Carolina, and Jesse Helms was a major factor in shaping many of my political beliefs. Being young, female and alt.everything I did not often agree with Mr. Helms. However, over time, I developed quite a respect for him. He stated his beliefs in plain language, so when I did not agree, or when I found his beliefs distasteful or offensive, at least, I could understand the things which he stood for that I did not. In an era where politicians specialize in not ever speaking definitively on any topic, Jesse Helms had the balls to stand for something, loudly.

So, good-night, Senator No. I probably won't miss you per se, but you had my respect, for having the nads to stand unfailingly for the people who elected you. You were probably a better leader than most of them deserved.