Sunday, December 26, 2004

Saturday Without Mail Delivery

Yesterday was, as I was gleefully telling myself, not Christmas. It was "Saturday without mail delivery". There was the usual up early and open gifts, but then the house emptied at 8:30 and I was alone for nearly 12 hours. The wife and kids started with a breakfast at Heather's then moved on to spend that day with Kathleen's mother. This left me blissfully alone. It ended up being a good day. I ditched my lists and just did what I felt like, lots of computer time, burned a few yiff discs, dressed up some documents for work, worked out, walked, and drank a fairly nice bottle of Australian Shiraz. About mid day I took my brain out for a walk, and was thinking to myself that there are people who would feel sorry for me, spending the day alone. So I stopped and asked myself how I was doing. I realized that I really WAS enjoying the day. It was great. The was also when I decided that it was Saturday Without Mail Delivery.

Sunday, December 12, 2004

Ziggy Stardust and Mack the Knife

What did the church fathers said about the 35th birthday? That you will be JUST LIKE THIS in the resurrection. Today would have been Rick's 35th. If he was still around, I am sure that I would be forcing him to endure the horrors of a party, and a central theme would be to list everything wrong with him and inform him that he was stuck with this for ALL OF ETERNITY. Buwah-ha-ha-ha. I guess I could go on about it, but it all boils down to one thing - I miss the asshole.

One small note - it seems that Rick shares a birthday with Frank Sinatra, just like I share with Elvis and Ziggy Stardust. It seems very fitting.

Last week I quit the Coven here in Provo. We were supposed to meet last Sunday at Steamers. I showed up and found out the hard way that there really wasn't a meeting. I then spent a half hour listening to one member (and employee of the shop) complain about life in general and the coven leader in particular. Then Thursday rolled around and I was looking at coven meeting that night. I realized that I really wasn't looking forward to it, and that if I wasn't looking forward to it then I shouldn't be going. I spent a while thinking it over, especially comparing to my feelings about the O.T.O., where I always looked forward to the meetings. On top of that was the realization that I wouldn't have the time in my schedule to handle both the Coven and the O.T.O.. So I headed over to Steamers and told the woman who was doing the complaining of my decision and to pass the message along to the fearless leader.

In the theatre of the mind, I imagined the leader might put me to some sort of grilling and try to find out what was 'wrong' or what 'the cause' was for me quitting. I determined to tell her that it just wasn't a good fit, nothing wrong with them, but it didn't resonate with me, and that was all. Last night she called to give me her new phone number then asked why I quit. Much to my delight, she accepted my well rehearsed explanation with grace and kindness, and all was good.

Once again I find myself at the end of the year with unused vacation days on my schedule at work. So I am taking Fridays off work again. In some ways it is nice, in others it isn't working put as well as it has in the past. Instead of using the time to play, I've been trying to get things done. Even things from work. For example, on the first Friday (last weekend) I completed some training I had committed to at work. But it went slower than it should have, and most of the time I had Kathleen over my left shoulder at her desk. I don't know what bothered me worse about that: Feeling like she was spying on me, or noticing that she was doing nothing but playing games or screwing around with e-mails. She wasn't DOING anything - just vegetating. How can a person live that way (says the kettle in reference to the pot).

This weekend was more of the same. I had a list of things to do. While I made good progress on it, when taking the weekend as a whole, the Friday portion seemed to be mired.

My one salvation in this has been the work I have been doing with focus. "Focus" is a factor that I chose to invoke into my life about a month ago. Invoking is fine, but you need to do more than just clench your teeth and spit out the pained words..."m-u-s-t - - - f-o-c-u-s". So I did two things, and they seem to combine to do the trick. The first is to make sure I go into the evening or the weekend with a prioritized list. Then during daily Gnosis, there has been a bit of a change to what is recited. The additions are, "I will work the list. I will do it in the order listed. I will not allow distractions." Simple as that. But this brings the observation that one of the easiest and hardest things to do is to identify the problem, then say to yourself, "I will do this. I will not do that." But once the words are spoken, it seems to add force to will, and the job gets done. Today, for example, I really wanted to waste time instead of writing in my journal. But the larger part of me wants to get some thoughts down before they fly. So I remembered what I had invoked, and I sat my ass down and wrote. It felt good. Earlier in the day, I wanted to take some work in the back yard and push it to next weekend. Easy enough. But then I remembered that it was next on the list, and that I told myself I would take things in the order I had initially listed. So I did it. And it felt good. Getting the wood stacked, as on the list, was no big deal. But sticking with my commitment to myself and staying true to my word, that was another.

Ye Gods - I look back on that last paragraph and part of me is appalled that it is written by a 42 year old man and not a teenager. Eek.

Saturday, December 04, 2004


Last night was the Beastalon fundraising dinner at the Sun and Moon café up Emigration Canyon. Fun party. The after party party was pretty good too.

I was the first to arrive - of course - and had to wait a while for the crew to show up. Dave showed up with his mother. I invited her to sit with me and share a bit of wine. Then she ended up spending the entire dinner with me, and we had a fabulous conversation. I really don't think the dinner could have turned out much better for me. I also had Dave pull me aside and extend a thank-you. He feared his mom wouldn't find anyone to connect with and would spend the evening being the odd person out. I saved her from that fate, and Dave was grateful. From what Jesse had to say, she thought the whole thing turned out pretty nice herself. But looking at it from the view of the cynic, I would wryly observe that is was very convenient to have the old people off in a corner, taking care of themselves, and not bothering the youngsters.

As the evening wound down, I got sucked into a conversation with a few folk. It was pretty good. Eventually, they decided to take the conversation to one of their homes (can't remember the name of the couple). I accepted and presently found myself in a second story flat above the capitol with a gorgeous view of the valley. In short order the conversation divided into the bedroom gathering and the living room gathering. The former got off to a good (?) start by pulling up a bestiality web site and taking a few hits of the sweet stuff. They later devolved into a Terrence McKenna video, strobe lights and the computer having a screen saver that was a slideshow of naughty pictures of the Lady of the House. It was a bit disconcerting to view soft porn while sitting next to the model.

The living room conversation was more to my liking and that is where I ended up. Our drug of choice was wine and the conversation was over Nuit and the idea of there being None, then Two, but no such thing as the One. Once there is something to define itself as the One, then everything outside of the One must be Other, therefore Two. "For I am divided for Love's sake, for the chance of Union."

But, alas, the living room crowd dissolved when a few key people went home. After a while with the Bedroom crowd, sobering up, I went home. But even with the bedroom crowd, it was a fun evening all around. Once again, I felt like I belonged, like I didn't have to force anything or make pretenses or put up fronts.

Wednesday, December 01, 2004

Schmucks in Love

The wheels are in motion. Yesterday I handed over the paperwork for my Minerval initiation. An interesting conversation accompanied this, but it has been redacted. Suffice it to say that, in the time between getting my paperwork and handing it back in, the Oasis suffered scandal and has a new (returning) body master.

My initiation has been a long time coming. In fact is has been years in the making. But it is finally time. Pam replaced the deposed Body Master. I am assuming that mine will be her first initiation since taking the office. When I stop and think, I realize that this is something of a burden. I'm sure everyone already has enough to do without me coming along and asking for a chunk of their time and energy. But that is actually a secondary reaction. My initial reaction before that is the time has come for me to pitch in and help. I know it will be a while for me to advance far enough to make a real contribution, but my time will come. It will be interesting to see how things stand a year from now, or even five years down the road.

It also feels like it is time for me to take my place in the lodge. It is a "gut feeling" thing. I belong. It is meant for me, and I am meant for it. I can't explain it any better than that.

Then, of course, there is the number 43. The way things worked out, pretty much without planning it that way, the best logical date for my initiation turned out to be January 8, 2005. My 43'rd birthday. Then I realized that the number 43 has followed me around for years, since I was a teenager. So maybe this is why I've been followed by 43? Does it all point to birthday 43 as being a turning point? It this a sign post, telling me that I am on course? Maybe. I would like to think so. We'll see.

In other observations, I've been more faithful at doing the adorations of Liber Resh. It has improved my mood and my focus. I'm getting shit done and feeling better. This is a good thing. Even the "Kathleen thing" has improved. I've known for I while that I'm screwing up in the way I treat her. But the combination of inertia, pride and just plain not knowing what else to do has kept me from changing. But after the Karma discussion with A.M. last week, the change has been small (that is one really tough wall to climb, and I'm not ready to climb it yet.)

I'm also picking up that Kate is pissed off about the O.T.O. thing. She will deny this. Maybe she is right - but then maybe not. She sees it as way to structured and anal and heaven knows what else. She has now taken the tack of saying things like, "You follow your heart. You do what calls to you. Good for you. I'm sure you'll love it. Blah, blah, blah." But I've heard the words and the tone of voice before, usually when talking about Barry and his fuck-ups (real or perceived). So what she is really telling me is, "Don't say I didn't warn you. You'll be sorry. Don't come crying to me. You made your bed, now sleep in it. Been nice knowing you." Sigh. I guess I'll just have to prove her wrong.

But then Kate is also getting a taste of come-uppance from the universe. The circle she is in drew lots to see who would take charge and set the agenda for the next year. The deal was to use the tradition the 'winner' was "first trained in." So, who is the person in the circle who most tweaks Kate? Rowan. Why? Because she comes from the most regimented tradition of all the people in the circle. Kate has done a bit of complaining about her. So who won the lottery? Rowan. It gets better - Rowan has asked Kate to be Crone for the year (snigger). Oh yeah - and the Priest (only guy in the group) is my age and is, according to Kate, a putz. Kate says if I was in the circle I would be the obvious first choice for HP (her opinion - others might disagree), so that will add to her tweak factor.

I am taking a very small measure of perverse joy in Kate's suffering. The universe will punish me.

[redacted long rant about friend who is in love and being jilted. Boo hoo.]

I made noises that were pleasant but non-committal. There is nothing else to do.


I love the man, but the fact is he did this all to himself. He set himself up like a bowling pin, pasted a neon sign to his brow, flashing "Kick me in the ass." Then he all but forced Laura to break his heart for him.


I suppose the day will come when I can knock him to the ground, sit on his chest and tell him what a schmuck he is. Until then I get to be nice and make the pleasant noises.