To Notice more Trickles Before They Grow into Streams

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Oh......Fuuuuuuuddddggggeeeeeee

Amongst other planetary wingdings today, this one could have been worse for Humanling.

She hit her elbow on a chair as I sit here and work from home on the laptop. And then I heard, what I hoped was my own improv in my head. "F***in Chair!"

The Eff Dash Dash DASH word.

All I can say is that epilepsy saved her tiny butt from a bar of soap in the mouth.

Damn cat. I just KNOW she is the source of this.

I'd love to hear how Other parents have handled this or how your parents handled this with you!

Fisher Price Drinking Game

I don't know about anyone else, but I can safely say that the Humanling can sail through her day with merely a sip of water. In fact, her smile would probably be even brighter if she had none. She likes juice and her almond milk but when it comes to water, she's frugal...you know, doing her part to conserve it on the planet by never drinking it.



I can be just as bad, but then activated in my head is the little Caring Nag voice reminding me that any of my perceived problems are most likely due to the fact that I'm barely drinking water. Even my credit score - lack of water. So I do my best. Well, not really but I'm conscious that carrying around my water bottle doesn't exactly mean that I am on the step of fulfilling the action.


In a quest to get my Ling's blood circulating on a level higher than Sludge, I made up a game. The Polar Express was on twice in a row. I told her that whenever the words "North Pole" were said, we had to swig.


This worked fabulously. After a while though, I knew she'd had enough. I handed her green bottle to her after catching the *North Pole* phrase. She looked down at me (she was on the computer at this point and I was sitting on the floor reading) and said "I disqualify myself from the game."



My calm, strange Capricorn. No yelling, no saying "I QUIT"...just as if she's making a bed with sleepy eyes....decides to tranquilify and disqualify.

But hey, it did work. Next we'll have to do it with High School Musical and the word 'Bolton'.

Small Deals in the CT Hood

{An angry man's raised voice} "I want my money. You could have come to Stacy's house. You know where she lives. Where's my money?"

"I got money coming to me in a couple of days. I got it coming this weekend"

"That's gonna fuck my body all up. I don't have a couple of days. I need it now"
{Door closes}

********

I love living here. Quaint, affordable and all one needs to do is put their ear up to the door for the newfound inspiration to double lock the door.

Astrological Weather

Fuhgeddaboudit!
Mars Square Pluto
Dec 21, 2008 to Dec 23, 2008

You're all sneers, bad attitude and streetwise skills. You're in no mood to take any attitude from anyone, let alone some punks who think they know it all. In this mood, it might be best to avoid company.

******

Perhaps if I had seen this little detailed Scorpio horoscope for myself (Virgo Moon, Libra rise, FYI) earlier, I would have avoided phone company as well.

Humanling's dad, Cavey, called. The whole thing was super annoying and I won't go into all the details. If anyone wants an idea of how it runs sometimes, check out Dead Beat Dads in the labels section on the page.

I try very hard to walk in some very good footsteps...and today couldn't be more of a hypocrite if I had sent out a Christmas card of myself flipping the bird in front of a Victorian tree. I looked at people in passing cars and thought, My brother, My sister, we are all here at the same time experiencing this earth at this time, all these changes, all the changes to come. And then I get home and resort to being hung up on when I finally unleashed the "Listen, Mother Beeper" dragon.

Ah well. Ok, its really more of a snake, that whole temper of mine. It's been fed a sperm whale now and should be quiet for awhile.

However, I'm pissed at myself for allowing such an indulgence. For allowing whatever Cavey had to say, to affect me in a way where I would drop the whole John Lennon vibe and go Steven Segal instead. Dirty dirty dirty.

To top it off, Cavey somehow always has a little information that he shouldn't be privvy to. He would let me know today that I have a talking wart developing on my heel in about three weeks. I went to the only person who might be part of an inside job - the Humanling herself.

She swears she didn't give any goods.

Well if that's the case then Cavey is an awfully prophetic alcoholic. Or...perhaps he IS an alcoholic because he knows something the rest of us don't.

So as Humanling, the proverbial protractor carrying Capricorn, said to me tonight, "It's over. The whole thing about me telling daddy is over." And with that, I saw her path of tracks as she had already forged ahead. Subject done. Get over it obsessive Scorpio, and make the damn gluten free cookies for Santa. And can I lick the spoon?

Le Male

Who minds a little men's cologne commercial?



Just sayin'.

Sorta by The Hair of my Chinny Chin Chin

Humanling is out tonight on a date with a fellow goat.

My ex who has given me a lifeline this Christmas time, is a Capricorn. As is my little Manager. They are a day apart in fact. The two of them could ruin a good party with all their knowledge of centimeters, financial spreadsheets and Lists of Rules.

But I like being around both of them. Most of the time.

The Goat and I dated years ago when Cougars started to become as famous as the outing of Bigger Butts. There's a decade difference between us but he has always seemed like the older one. Or he used to. Now Humanling does. I'm the goofy irregular compared to those two. They would file me under their category Unamused, I'm sure.

We broke up, yada yada...but still had to work together. So through the march of the dumping of Here's Your Stuff on top of his desk, the two of us dating other people, my marriage's beginning and ending (he warned me - but who would listen to an ex at a time like that?) and a bunch of non productive meetings, we're still talking, hanging out at times. And I'm still being exposed as a klutzy and sometimes hasty snarf. If I'm going to trip over my own feet, his eyes catch it. If I'm going to spill coffee while walking, he points it out to me. I point out to him that the pattern and color of our office carpeting was meant for exactly this purpose.

He's the one I rebelled against the hardest. Because he had a plan, because he always thought his way was the most efficient, because he said so. I would walk off cliffs when he'd argue with me that the opposite direction was clearly the most sensible just to show him that I'm older and that I somehow survived thirty something years without him. I may have paid for many of those decisions but I made my point. You can't tame me with your lists. You can't harness my ways by showing me my perceived mistakes and your Intro to Your Better Way of Doing It Next Time Starting Now. And when you do have me tied up and ready, it's only because I LET you.

Yet he likes being around me.

We both sense a challenge.

Why did we break up years ago? Because of a million small reasons that morphed into the reason that I told him - he's ten years younger than me. If he wanted children, he'd have to act immediately or forever hold his peace (at that time). I couldn't risk being with someone to have them eventually decide that they wanted a family and have them leave me in a broken hearted situation.....just like the one that I was left in anyway....by a guy with a bigger age difference than the Goat.

Only the Goat is way more reliable. Which is why when he asked to take out Humanling for an hour or so tonight, I had to say yes. A decent male who I know won't say or do anything weird to my precious blog of protoplasm, and who will not only show up, but show up on time. Humanling is very anal about time. If you dare to give her any resembling an exact plan, like a time, date or plan, she expects delivery. Then you receive one of two hells - her countdown to the event OR the meltdown when someone like Cavey doesn't deliver.

I warned Goat today that he is spending time with a little girl who isn't around men very much. I don't know how she views them. I don't know what she thinks of them. She clings to them and at the same time she gets tired of their presence after a few hours, including the Infallable Cavey. She likes her mommy time.

I read once about eight years ago that a Capricorn child and Scorpio parent are in danger of creating their own world in which no one can really enter but them. I have found that to be true in our case. But she chose a parent with hermit tendencies and wildly foraged OCD. So it happens.

The Goat and I are friends now, who trade some really nice energies here and there. We are nothing alike. So no bets, no expectations and no dates longer than a few hours. Thankfully he knows me well enough. Just by saying hi to me in the past he's been greeted with "I can't date right now! I need to be alone! I need to figure myself out!" Thankfully that's one less person I have to tell the story to. He gets it.

Too Close to Home

Humanling and I did a snow dance tonight.

It's December and its time for snow. It can all pack up and go away in January, but right now its a really nice layer of Happy on the season. Well, that and I can work from home if school is closed.

Oh what will I write about when my neighbor moves out? You know the guy - with the Trader Joe's Truffle Eyes. All of about 21 years old, if that. The guy with the "friends" who enjoy passtimes such as punching girls in the nose....or.....showing what category drunk they make (Hint: does not qualify for "Happy" drunk)....or....having to draw drama out of innocently standing by energies and yelling in the hallway at people that "Oh, YOU DON'T CARE ABOUT ME?"

There is so much energy on this planet for us to work with in such a magical way.

We can get punched noses in video games, on HBO, shit, on the Disney channel probably. Why must we waste beautiful energy manifesting this stuff? Other people at least get PAID for it.

Humanling stressed to me during the tirades that she really really wanted me to go over there and make it stop. And I felt strange. She was treating me like a dude. Like I could only hope that they were having a Shallow Hal moment when I barged over there, all 95 lbs and 2 apples taller than a standard 80s Smurf and thought they saw something very large and very enraged.

I realized that I'm pretty much all there is. So any issue in the house is my job technically. I'm good at rigging things and have rigged this situation for myself when I was younger...but couldn't rig it for her. I had to make it stop.

As I sat trying to ignore it (because confronting non humourous drunks is a hobby that I never took up), I kept feeling very sick every time the guy's voice raised. I couldn't relax.

I remembered. That's what it was. 3am and I'm six or seven. The yelling starts downstairs, the man's voice is raising, the woman's voice is raising. My head goes under the blankets and my stuffed animal, Henry is in my grip. Something smashes. Something else smashes. Woman is screaming now and my fingers go into my ears. I start to grind my teeth very loudly and quickly trying to white noise the inside of my head. It doesn't totally drown out the physical abuse that I can hear, or the woman screaming in pain - both physical and emotional.

Eventually there is silence....and I gage a long enough silence that I can slowly grip my Henry and tentatively move downstairs, toward where I can hear my mom crying.

The panoramic view shows everything busted up and all over the floors, the counter, outside. I would go stand in front of my mom and try to hug her, but not say anything. I never said anything. I would just start cleaning. Find the broom, pick up glass, glue things together. It might be 4am when I was done.

I realized tonight what I was reacting to as I heard them. Humanling played the role of me and I wanted to fix it for her and make it stop. She shouldn't have to be scared and hear all that. She shouldn't have to know this. I really knew this.

I finally walked out into the hall hoping that the drunk either didn't have a weapon, or if he did, couldn't tell which one of me to aim for. I stood looking at the door and Humanling stood behind me. I yelled to the door.

"Do you need some HELP in there?!"

Truffle Eyes came out, calm as a coma and apologized for his company's apparent lack of arena & bull. I told him that this has been going on all night, it needs to stop and the Ling is on her way to bed and is scared by the noise. She said to him herself, "It scares me."

I tried also to be empathetic and said that I don't want anyone dying over there. That if I think someone is getting hurt, I'm going to call 911 or that Humanling would, because she really would (and has in the past for farts & giggles with my only warning being the two cop cars that sharked into my driveway immediately after). He told me that its ok, that maybe it would be good if I called.

That's not what I want to do though. He's only here for one more month. But his company clearly is not finding their Happy Places....ever. It's like its taped onto the end of a telescope and they keep walking towards it but never take the lens away from their eye.

More yelling just now.....and my teeth have certifiably been noted by prior dentists that the grinding really did leave some evidence (grinding my teeth because a standard fight or flight escape for me from that time on but has ceased as an adult thankfully).

So I said this: {opens door}........{clean and swift SLAM!}.

I heard someone leave with a few kind words about a fat f**k and hopefully the curtain has closed on this childhood memoir for tonight. After all, I got weather to bribe.

Many Doors in This Cloud

I scheduled to take today off a couple of weeks ago. I was certain that it would involve Borders.



It certainly does involve reading and coffee. But it also involves:

~gas conservation by not driving across town to Borders where I will BMOB anyway and read

~financial conservation by not using the gas nor buying a cup of coffee with the change I will need to buy it on Thursday morning

~hammering down the laundry pile that was born sometime in the summer (complete with odd and not so reminiscent nor friendly odors)

~A fabulous kick ass walk outside!!! OMG Loveys....it is a very warm day here in CT. It's got to be in the 60s. I look completely stupid in my mismatching gloves and peacoat.

~all Humanling's gifts wrapped and stashed. In the kitchen. Top shelf of the pantry. Covered in a blue sheet. All uninteresting things to my Ling - kitchen, pantry (higher levels) and linens. If I keep them in my closet, I may as well just point them out to her since she believes what is mine is hers. Which really is mostly true anyway.

~The rehabbing of the dishes in the final phases. I didn't just ignore the blog for weeks....I ignored clutter.

~Being alone all day long with those Trader Joe's sexy truffles. They can go and go but I have to stop and rest after one.

~A wonderful morning meditation

~A Long Walk, Part 2

~Accepting the gift of societal sharing by sniffing the smoke tinged air in my apartment that seeps in from the apartment next door. It's not on my wish list, but it's reality.

Speaking of the scary crew next door, they've been evicted. One of them already left. Apparently he and his buddy divorced and the other guy won custody of the cigarette smoke, knocks on the door at all hours and parade of Shady kicks going up and down the stairs. The remaining guy, who has eyes the color of those Trader Joe's truffles, and a frontal demeanor that is most charming, will be bouncing his happy butt out the door in January from what I hear. I hope both guys will figure out what went awry for them and move forward into healthy situations.

I hope the next neighbor is a little more at ease with clean air.

I walked the railroad tracks to the house that is currently still up for sale that housed my past marriage. I know the other cares nothing about it. And I'm glad to be out of there too. I took a long look at it, searching the windows for evidence of my or our previous existence. It was everywhere. Even the Christmas lights and snowflake decor that I used last year in an attempt to make a Too Big for me house, more festive in the face of constant showings and interruptions. They are now all crammed into a garbage bin outside. I can't remember putting them there.

The house has a heart, I know it does. (Yes, you can tune out if my looney vibes are starting to freak you out, I won't be offended. No one gets offended in my world....wah ha ha!)

So I basically blessed it with love. Then turned to walk away, just looking back for a moment at the pitiful For Sale sign that had fallen off the post and onto the ground.

The rest of my walk was simply reading (yeah I do that) and saying hi to most everyone I passed. I did feel one tree's energy in particular as I passed.

Right now my Humanling is in an afterschool art class so I have extra time alone. I'm using it to make her dinner. My cat alerted me that the baby squirrel was on the deck. I checked and there wasn't much for it to nibble on so I grabbed from the Squirrel stash that I keep near the deck door. I grabbed a plastic bunch with disgusting black and green intentions underneath. Of course, I am cooking right now. I threw it in the garbage but still. It existed at the same time of the food on the stove. It existed right in front of my face. And now exists in the room still, but at a lower level in the garbage. My mind searches a million times....could it have gone airborne? Would it have gone into the food? It's in the wrap. I didn't have it open and run around the kitchen with it shaking the bag. I have to remember this. But hey, that's currently one of my Special Features. Until it isn't.

I Missed You Guys!

Wow, I never expected to let the blog hibernate for a couple of weeks but as with everything, wax and wane.

You guys had some fabulous comments on the last blog regarding the 17 year old Proposer back in the 80s!

My whereabouts have been basically dabbling in some Facebook here and there, regular nightly emails to Those on my Daily Email list and tons of research.

As far as Facebook goes, I have connected with so many happy phantoms of my past. I had this one amazing job where I was trusted with the title of Music Buyer as a 24 year old. That job was a Par-Tay with matching purse. I regularly cross lines with my ex boss, who back then was my major source of burning hell infernalization. I hated him with all that my not as evolved pre quarter century self could possibly muster. I wished bad things on him at the time. I told him to his face and my other boss's face and I wished bad things on them and their wives. And kept my job because I wasn't violent about it. I was quite Girl about it. With accessorized tears. They were real.

Now though, I really like him. Really. I actually thought he was hot back then. But cocky and smarmy and he used to throw comments at me that should have gone into an HR file, had the world been paranoid about PC verbiage at the time like it is now. I hear he is a musical genius and has perfect pitch. He now works as a professor. He and his wife divorced when he was caught cheating, but he has remarried, so that's all good. I hear my other boss divorced as well.

The words of Tori Amos - The sun is getting dim....will we pay for who we've been, yeah...

Hopefully not. Can we really be punished for our misdeeds of our youth? I know there are so many answers to that. Karma, learning experiences, too much jagermeister and running mascara.

I have not run off with anyone, I am still verifiably single. I won't say whether or not the BC fairy has been by, but I do have some nice friends.

I have an ex who has been Golden to me since the :doot: thing dissolved (which hasn't been put completely to rest as another conversation still needs to take place - his request). I don't really know what to say to :doot: other than I tried. I came back into your life to make amends, not make a new problem, not trick you or hold the football only to yank it away as soon as your foot swings back. I have love for you of course. There is a ton of history. I don't know if its timing or the actual chemistry between us. I am not ready for the commitment or the time involved in an actual relationship. I am still very much in love with my spiritual path and need to walk it, smelling each flower, stroking the bark of every tree, feeding every squirrel and bird on my path. I never wanted to hurt you and never want to hurt anyone else. Which is why until I am sure about who I am, I would like to stay alone.

My ex has been very nice though....he knows the whole deal - the whole enchilada since I won't lie, no matter how much the truth is dressed like a hobo and smells like the fresh cheese section of the grocery store. I will not hide things intentionally so that others can get the wrong idea.

We'll call the ex, Goat. The Goat has heard my tales of empty pockets, bank fees for insufficient funds and worries about Humanling not quite getting as much as I wanted to try to do. I didn't tell the Goat any of this for a handout. I told him because he kept asking me questions or would want to hang out and really, I had a lot of blueprints to draw in how I was going to grab my stagecoach and rob Peter to pay Paul once again. That and worries about the Humanling at times since I really want her to see this integrative doctor in the area. She doesn't take insurance. Ka-BLAM-Ching!

Wouldn't you know that the Goat shows up with a good chunk of cash and hands it to me and instructs me to do the doctor appointment, get that gift card for my mom that I wanted to get her and don't forget the oil change. Then he went online and bought a number of things for Humanling. I told him that this was going to be paid back. So....uh, anyone want to pay him? Ha ha... no, really though. But it won't be for a couple o' months. Can anyone sexily say "Deferred"? You can actually if you roll your tongue and say "Purrrrrrrr" but change it to "De-fuuuuuuuuuurrrrrrrrrrred".

So normally, I am not the type EVER to take help.

But I am realizing on my current path that I need to stop doing that. This isn't about me. This is about Humanling's dr appt, my oil change so desperately needed and my mother's grocery store giftcard. I can GIVE whatever I have till the cows come home, unpack their spots and then take off for a mountain top guru. RECEIVING is quite another story. The Heat Miser to the Snow Miser's yang.

I am hard core on this path to really know who I am. How I'm going to change lives. How I'm going to up the ante and make this world truly a better place. Not just by hiding in my house and commenting on Facebook. Not by smiling through slightly gritted teeth at a co-worker who has the capacity to make me push the DESTROY button and saying something nice instead. But those things help. I want to know who I am. And I want to give it all away to everyone, to all of you. To God. I want don't want to erase hurts but I want to help heal them and remind us all to bookmark them for future reference, lest we test the definition of insanity.

I had a craft show a couple of weeks ago. This is the first one where I lost money by booking the space. But I had a good day. I have a few amazing spiritual items and this completely amazing Jesus picture. It's just his face and his eyes look so real. I am coming to terms that I am what could be a Crystal Christian (some call it Wiccian Christian or Pagan Christian). The girl who doesn't want to give up her crystals, tarot or Jesus. I want them all together. I am stoked to see what comes forth for us all in 2012. I am hearing that he's coming back. I meditate but not as deep or as much as I want to. That's being worked on. I have tarot cards. I have seen an angel as a child. I believe. I don't pray to Goddesses because for me they seem too mythological (for ME - I know I'm not the only one with an opinion. I also am rooted in some of my childhood beliefs). I love fairies and vampires but have never encountered a vampiric fairy. Unless mosquitos count.

I saw a girl at this craft fair. Probably between eleven and fourteen years old. I am not sure what her difference was - she didn't talk, she had 'something' up with her development. She was held onto by her mom and was sort of hunched. But we met eye to eye. And she smiled right into my eyes, which then filled with tears. This was a complete transformation. This smile of hers could change the orbits of all Jupiter's moons from millions of miles away. I wish I could have taken a photo. I'd put it on an altar to remind me that this exists. These smiles, these genuine soul smiles.

So basically, I am just one of a zillion folk, trying to find themselves, do the daily and raise an incredible human being.

The latest thing around work is Belt Tightening. Is anyone surprised? A department or two is being erased within our structures and penciled into a third party notebook. For now, I am told, we are safe.

But we are always safe. I am not wishing to lose my wonderful job. They have accommodated me into an endless chant of gratitude. But if it should happen, I want to know that I have figured out what magic is coming out of my wand. Hence, soul searching on top of existing soul searching. The whole When One Door Closes rule. I believe it in fully. On one hand, I don't wish to have to figure myself out tomorrow while re-writing my resume. On the other hand, as with everything for everyone, be who you are Now.

Or as I have heard Byron Katie say, Think of something that you think holds you back. Now think of who you would be without that issue. And then Be that person.

Facebook: You Have A Message From....

And then I saw his name. We'll call him Wheezer. That was his nickname when we were 16. It is indescribable the feeling I saw when I saw his name there. A smile that cracked, molted and grew even larger and a reserve of happy tears.

I hit the link immediately to connect with him.

He has a rather common first and last name. His name could only be worse if it were Michael Smith. Over the years any search for him resulted in my rare white flag with a google bar on it. Who knew what state he'd live in. Last I knew he was in Michigan. And that was when we were 20.

We met at McDonalds when we were both 16 and freshly morphed with working papers. I don't think they have those anymore but I'm pretty sure that we had them. We are two weeks apart in age but different astrological signs. Me the Scorpio, he the Sagittarius.

I went to a public high school where there were so many faces I'm sure some teachers didn't know my name by the end of the year. And if they did in my senior year, it was probably because I was the more rare at the time pregnant 17 year old senior. He went to a private Catholic school.

He looked like Superman, so said our geeky McDonalds quality of Circle. And he would prove later on to be one.

Wheezer was virginal. I was not. Not by much, just by two people most likely. I had a boyfriend who was a spot of trouble. I liked 'em with a criminal record. Only this one would sometimes not show up to walk me home from work and later on call me from the police station to say he was arrested for being on the roof of a grocery store. So maybe I liked them with a silly criminal recored as opposed to dangerous. My dad had a silly criminal record. Like the time he put a sand shark in the library water fountain or stealing cars. Only no one knew that was him with the shark. Well, now they do.

I recall the night the McCircle was behind the shopping center, standing on frozen cold piles of dirt. My boyfriend Rooftop was with the pack leaving, as I was. Rooftop wasn't officially my boyfriend but everyone knew we were together. He would actually wait until a few months later when he was cleared in court and knew he wasn't going anywhere before he would ask me to be his official girlfriend. Pretty considerate for a boy!

Everyone started moving toward our next destination, most likely a warm one. Wheezer stopped me for a moment. He said someone told him he wasn't a good kisser and would I mind if he kissed me so that I could give him the honest truth? I sort of shrugged and felt as though he asked if I wanted a piece of gum. Ok. Not a problem. So we kissed awkwardly and with me in Mindful Critique mode since he posed it in such a way.

Hm. Not my type of kisser at that time. Not at all.

So I told him I had no idea what that girl was talking about - he was fine.

As time went by, he became the friend who constantly watched me drunk on the tightrope, as he balanced an armload of antique eggs for his mom that would wreck havoc on the world if cracked. He stood under me waiting for me to fall and having to catch me with a delicate balance. Thankfully it was never so bad. His parents hated me. Apparently Rooftop or someone else called his home and threatened his mom that they'd hurt him. I didn't know anything about this nor would I have allowed it.

Wheezer was the guy who stood by and watched me date and become free. Date and become free again. But never dated him. I kissed him here and there. I was excited to see him and hang out with him. But he was one of my "buddies". The guy I wouldn't date. The *nice* guy that mothers loved. Superman.

For my birthday one year he offered me his virginity. I handled it gracefully but had no appreciation for what he was trying to give me. I figured it was a way of getting some. I mean what boy offers his virginity? And doesn't enjoy it?? It was a pretty neat way of trying to sleep with someone.

Within the beginning of my senior year in high school I stopped dating my last bad idea and went back to the guy I was with before I even met Wheezer or my McCrowd. We immediately enjoyed the thrills of teenagers being left alone every day after school and Miz Eye was brought into this dimension. The pregnancy with Miz Eye was unexpected, but not. I mean, we weren't preventing, so we should have been expecting. Her dad didn't take it well at the time. He was 18 and we went to separate schools. He didn't have to give in it to immediately like I did.

I was left alone by him during most of the pregnancy and when he was with me he let me know that he was embarrassed by me. We attended my prom and I wore a dress that I chose 3 months earlier. Which meant that the dress was not as supple as it was when I bought it. I felt like the prom side show and watched everyone else dance to "This is the Time" by Billy Joel while my date and donor wouldn't even hold my hand.

I relayed all this to Wheezer, one of three males that knew about my situation.

On one of our hang out nights, Wheezer decided to treat me to dinner - one of those steak places. (Yes Virginia, there was a time that Shades ate the flesh). I didn't eat much and was rather cranky, being nearly 6 months pregnant and full of joy and hope for my baby but heartbroken about who I thought was the love of my life. We left the steak place and Wheezer pulled over to a golf course. He asked me to get out of the car. I nervously got out and asked repeatedly with OCD tinged spurts - What are we doing here? Why? What are we doing here? Why?

He pulled a radio out of the car and placed it on the roof. Pushed play. A slow song came on...it might have been Heart. He might have given me a rose. And then he definitely asked me for this dance.

He wanted so hard to make it up to me for what someone else was bringing down.

I ruined the night. I refused the dance. I refused to see the beauty. I probably didn't even have dessert and maybe that was my problem. I was being the young Scorpion. The kind that stings itself over and over again just to make a point.

He wasn't deterred. As he dropped me to my house that night, he stood in front of me and held my hands. He asked me if I would marry him and he would give me his car, he would take care of me and my unborn baby. He would give up college and the experience of growing into adulthood with transitioning stages as opposed to being dropped like a freefall into it overnight like I would be (but I knew this and I wanted it.)

If I refused a dance, I was definitely refusing this offer. I said it wasn't fair to him. It wasn't his problem and that his parents would kill him.

And then...life went on. The summer was a blur after graduation in regards to him. I had my beautiful baby girl and fell in love for the first time ever, unconditionally with her. It was the first day of school when I called all my friends who were returning to their senior year, and told them she had arrived. My hospital room was full of teenagers that night.

A note regarding Miz Eye's dad. He was there for the birth, metaphorically shoving aside my best friend who had done the Lamaze time with me all summer. But the moment he saw Miz Eye, he changed. He cried, he apologized and he's been her dad - a good dad, ever since. I moved into his home with his parents after her birth. It would last for about a year and a half but we tried.

Wheezer and I eventually lost touch.

I tried to find him for years with the amazing power of the internet, to thank him. When I look back on that night, I can't believe that everyone was right. He was Superman.

So when I saw that he found me, everything in me burst with joy. I have thanked him.

And he said, after all these years, that " {Shades}you never had to thank me, but I do appreciate the kind words.I would have done it all over again if it came around again."

We have phone numbers. We just turned 39. And although he is across the country in California, I can't wait to catch up. I am at least enjoying the old memories playing back. I hope his are as good as mine.

Too Much Information?

Once I moved here to our current digs back in April, I left a few boxes unpacked. (Who does that? NO ONE does that!) This was our move to our new life, sans House bought with Turd Van Blossom, my ex husband. This was our path to new energy and new dreams.

Once you get into a place, and get the dishes and necessities where you want them, sometimes that extra box in the room isn't that important to open. If you can't guess what's in it, you probably don't need to open it right away. Or within 6 months. Or by the time you retire.

In excavating the house yesterday in order to get our beautiful tree up (we have used the same tree for the last seven years. It's merely a stick now! Joke - obviously its a fake, and I told Humanling that we have spared seven trees by using this one.) Sorry to offend any who love the real tree smell. I love the real tree smell too and had only real trees as a child. I used to hide some of the needles under the carpet so that when the tree was taken down, I'd have a memory of it. And sure enough, the next year, my clean freak mom actually missed what was under the carpet - for there were my tree needles. I just have had issues with killing things (Turd hated this about me and threw it out as one of a million reasons why he was leaving. Ok ok...so maybe the time I begged him to find a natural method to get rid of the bees at his job instead of killing them might have crossed out of my reign of duty.)

As a child I always believed everythingwas alive. If I were coloring a page in a coloring book, I had to do the face first. I believed the picture could then hurry up and breathe, see, hear, taste and talk if I could just color their face right away. I believed I could spin a web, even if I couldn't see it. And I would pull the string out of my butt and fasten it to a nail on the wall where my parents hung our astrological posters. Then jump off the couch, looking behind me to see nothing, but to KNOW that there was a human web there. Who knows how much psychic *stuff* got caught up in my webs.

I cried when stuffed animals were taken out of my room and I'd find them on the top of a garbage heap ready to go to the dump. Those poor things....they needed love and I gave them love but my parents ruled the land and those in power don't see the sacred rituals of the peons.

The worst for me though, was the year of two Christmas trees when I was about seven. My mom worked hard to keep the house together. My father worked, no doubt, he brought home a check. But he enjoyed an alternate reality that came from a bottle or can or many women who weren't my loyal mom. Heading near Christmas, there was still no tree. It was probably near December 23rd. My tiny mother had had enough. She walked up the road in the dark to a nursery and stole a Christmas tree and dragged it all the way home (Mom is about 4 foot 7 inches). I was so happy to have a tree. We decorated it and I was happy.

The next morning, it appeared that in a drunken outdoor shopping spree, my father located a tree and tossed it on the front lawn. This was sheer horror for me. There was already a tree. Now there was a dying tree, dying for no reason. No one would decorate it. It wouldn't be like the tree merely 50 feet away indoors, with gifts, sugar water and anticipation of Santa. It would just sit there and rot until someone dragged it to the woods.

This was a lot of pain for my soul. I sound so dramatic but its true. It was unnecessary and brutal in my eyes. And just one more thing that I found to not like about my father during those years.

So I went outside with a strand or two of tinsel and put them on the heartbroken tree. It was really all that I could do and it made me feel a little better.

That's not the point of the post though. Do I ever really have a point?

Upon unearthing our bedroom to get ready for the tree, one of those ignored boxes had a ton of my socks, undergarments and pantyhose in them. I apparently adpated to the fact that my sock collection had scaled down. I threw a bunch of things in the laundry pile. And got a strange pang of amusement and weird nostalgia when I pulled the laundry out of the washer.

There was a pair of black pantyhose tied in a knot.

There is only one reason I have ever done this. This was the work of an intimate encounter with my ex hubby. By unknotting it, I was touching the energy of a union that seems so surreal to me, that has generated so much negative energy and that I am still trying to wholly encompass as a union of unknown beauty. By unknotting it, I was time travelling and touching an Us that no long exists. I tried to go back in my mind and think about any other people I may have been with in the last year and a half and know that this had nothing to do with them. This was an act of trust. (He trusting me in this case. That was MY knot.)

It was like walking down the sidewalk enjoying your new beau and running smack into your old life, knocking him down by accident and landing on top of him.

It was an interesting unveiling. I can't say that it bothered me. I rather enjoyed remembering for a second identifying what had been there, knowing that I did have some nice times. Even if many of them were more on a primal level with him.

I used to think that working through past events had a timeline. It happens, you mull around for a couple of weeks, it gets better, you move on and have no right to go back and dribble about it anymore. Not the case. And not that I sit around thinking about things or wishing it were different, but I do need to examine it to reconstruct an even higher spiritual me. Even with the pantyhose.