Wednesday, August 29, 2007

Playing Chicken (Pox) with The Universe

Many years ago I became ill with the Chicken Pox. I was 27 years old at the time. Chicken Pox is not kind to adults. The discomfort, pain and itching became worse and worse. The level of misery increased. I often thought it could get no worse...and then it got worse. This continued until one day when I reached a breaking point. And all of a sudden the whole thing became...


Funny as hell. Delightful beyond repair. My friends thought I had slipped a cog and were ready to ship me off to the funny farm.

I feel like I'm hitting a similar point in my life. Today, as in past several days, I lived entirely for other people. The only time I took for myself was to post my two entries to this blog. Every other moment either belonged to 'The Man' or was spent helping (or trying to help) other people. Every day in the last week that wasn't spent for other people was spent just trying to keep up with the housekeeping side of life (laundry, cat box, car repair, etc.)

I want my life back.

The pressure has been mounting to run away from it all; to tell all of 'them' that I will no longer be of service. But the other side of my head sees it getting worse and worse and wonders, will there be a breaking point where the burden will turn around on itself and transform into a delight?

They are watching me...

The Universe is watching me. I have known this for a long time. Once in a while The Universe sends me a message to let me know I am still on The List.

I was at the Tooele House last night (long story) and had wasted some time trying to figure out how to turn on the sprinkler system. I finally found the control box and concluded the manual override was missing (or just too hard to decode). But the grass is green, so it must be working.

Fast forward to a few hours later. It is dark. I am on the side porch and reach for the light switch to illuminate the driveway. At the precise moment my finger touches the switch, the sprinklers turn on. Have you ever noticed that the sound of air being pushed out of a newly activated sprinkler sounds just like an electrical circuit shorting out?

Message received.

Thursday, August 23, 2007

Tied down

I just signed my life away, buying a house in Tooele. It is Lisa's money buying the house, but my name on all of the paperwork. It was torture to get here, and now that it is done I feel untethered - as if I am floating. Not in a good way. Like I am no longer anchored, and any wind that blows will set my course, not my will.

This experience - selecting the house, applying for and playing with loans, etc. has pointed out to me a problem in my life. I am too tethered to people and things. If I see a direction I want to go in my life, I can't act on it because of what I am tied to. I have chosen security, comfort and responsibility at the price of freedom. This needs the change. Wait...rephrase (need? but if I leave it alone I am still safe and secure and miserable). I want it to change. It is my Will to change. It is an exercise for later to figure the details.

In smaller matters, I am bogged down in projects that sap my energy and rob me of my time. Some are needed, some are 'owed' to people, some are useless obsessions. Some projects - either good or bad for me - are being handled badly. Usually by trying to do them piecemeal, fitting them around the corners of other things. Is this good? Should I take more of an all or nothing approach, diving with all energy into a thing, ignoring all else, until it is done? Does this also imply just dropping some other things as having no worth (or just not being able to fit into the schedule)?

"Some projects take 2 minutes, and some projects take 70 years. Take your pick. What is your Will?" - Dylan

Wednesday, August 22, 2007

Another stray woman for my collection

I have a bad habit of collecting strays.

Not cats.
Not dogs.


(Someday I may write the back story on this - in fact it may be good for my psyche to do it. But not now.)

I was walking back from Kat's house when I saw a police car up the block. A young woman had been pulled over. She was removing her possessions from her car while a tow truck was getting ready to hook it. I guessed it was being impounded. It was a half block away, so I didn't get a good look at the woman's face, but her clothing and build caused me to assume she was a 19 to 22 year old hottie.

I shuddered.

I knew she needed a ride, I knew I could help, but every time I step up to help - even for simple things like this - it reaches back and bites me in butt. So many times I have had some simple act like this lead to a long term friendship where the exchange of energies has been far out of balance. I'm just a magnet for energy vampires. So I almost walked back in the house to ignore it.


I walked over to her. As I approached I could see her face and the finer details and saw she was closer to my age, maybe a little older (but still a hottie). I offered her a ride and she accepted gratefully. She lived all of 1 mile away. It was a good deal. I felt good for helping, she felt good for the offer, we agreed that no good deed goes unpunished, and we agreed on the existence of "The Fuckup Fairy." I dropped her off, helped carry her stuff to the door. We exchanged names (Tina) and a hug. End of story.

But how did I get to this position, where such a simple act fills me with such trepidation and foreboding? There is something massively wrong with this, and I need to find a way around it.

Tuesday, August 21, 2007

Farewell to Holly's mom

Holly's mother died last Sunday. But she died well. My only regret is that, after having heard some admirable things about her, I didn't meet her before she was gone.

About a month ago, mom was admitted to the hospital after suffering a seizure. After fending off the the medical community (after WAY too much sedation, they wanted to implant a pacemaker based on a pressured consent from family, not informed consent by mom), she went home to recover. Instead of just laying back and expecting to get better, mom took responsibility for her recovery. She set goals for time out of bed, for mild exercise, and for slowly resuming housework. She didn't over-stretch - family was there to help, and mom only took on a little of the work as she was able. But she did, thank goodness, take on what she could.

But there was some question of her heart, and if a pacemaker really was needed. The compromise was to get a monitor and see what the record recommended.

On Sunday evening, mom was up and about. She was on her feet. She helped with the cooking and dishes. She was talking and coherent. She felt valued and useful. She was happy. Early in the evening, she lay down for a nap. A short time later when family checked in on her, she was gone.

"Term of all that liveth, whose name is inscrutable. Be favorable unto us in thine hour." I hope, in my time, to find as much favor.

Sunday, August 05, 2007

Back from the shadows

[Notes: At the time this was posted, it was the first entry made to this blog in nearly two years. There are more 'recent' entries that were pulled from my journals and used to backfill this two year period they are marked as such.

In April of 2010 I revised the blog. Contrary to what it says below, much content has been pulled. Anything that will piss off my friends, ex-friends, and sensitive souls is now hidden behind security on my LiveJournal site. So there.]

Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the law.

Like all good things, I managed to let my journals - and this blog - fade into the background. It is now time to pull them back into the light. My thanks to Kate for prodding me into taking this step.

But be warned - this time its going to be a bit raw. The old posts were edited and prettied up, always with the knowledge that people I know would be reading them. This time there will be much less of that. What there WILL be is more of the raw musing and emotion that is swirling around my psyche. I am sorting out a few things in life and this blog is going to be tool for doing it. Things may get ugly.


Another warning.... In conversation with my friends I often withhold things about other friends. Why? Because nearly all of my friends are women, and I have varying degrees of involvement with these women. (Mostly just emotional or monetary involvement - you would be amazed how little sex physical involvement there is in my life.) Women tend to get jealous. I tend to smile and keep my mouth shut. Few of them really know all of what is happening in my life. So, if you are one of those women and don't want to get hurt, go away now. (Did I mention that there are Mormon polygamists among my ancestors?)

You have been warned.

- break -

I'll take up where I left off with my last entry of two years ago. The O.T.O.. About a month ago I took my second degree with the O.T.O.. This time there was another candidate being initiated, Frater Russ. He's a good kid, but.....

Sorer's Beverly and Holly have observed that the initiations of the O.T.O. change people. They will either turn you into a 'really cool person' or they will turn you into an asshole. So far Frater Russ has looked like one of the cool people. But recent events show signs of him leaning in the anal direction. I'll observe and hope I am unduly alarmed.

And the parting bit of angst for the weekend is that I've gone on the wagon. I'm going dry. I didn't like what alcohol was doing in my life, so I am leaving it alone for a season. We aren't talking about dancing the twelve step here, but I do need to step away from it and live with different vices for a while. (Hmmmm...... No booze. No sex. Smoking makes me puke. What vices are there? I am willing to take suggestions.)

Love is the law, love under will.