The Universe does work in mysterious ways doesn’t it?

Today I walked back and forth all over the city trying to accomplish some simple tasks and will have to do the same tomorrow. I had $11.00 in my Savings account and knew I had no room for error today. One ride there, one back to work, one ride back home, one ride to work and one ride home where my paycheck will be waiting for me in the mail. 10.00 to get to work today and tomorrow and $1.00 for lunch and dinner. A small McDonalds Fry would do the trick!

Then I checked my bank account and miraculously there was money. I wasn’t going to say SHIT. My friends will tell you I am known for finding a 20 dollar bill in the back of a cab and giving it back to the cab driver…But I wasn’t about to say SHIT about this! Come to find out its Bush’s sad-ass attempt to raise his popularity points, feeble little bonus. The universe works in mysterious ways.

I have had some problems in the past month or so—My dog’s diagnosis of Cancer, some utility issues, getting a new job, bills piling up and some things turning off, general shitty health, the emergency room and then the “follow-up” (that was fun). In the middle of it all I had been overextending myself by contributing some time and effort into helping people who need it and in the middle of it all find myself empty-handed when it came to me needing assistance from friends. Not a complaint just a general observation. I have kind of vowed to be a bit selfish until my “recovery”. Maybe retreat a little bit. i don’t know…the light at my proverbial tunnel…? Gus and Jen.

I have overextended myself slightly. A friend moved to Florida with the promise of a job with an airlines. The day she was about to move out, take the plane to her hub city, she was informed that they will be conducting a hiring freeze. I am taking care of her two cats. I promised long before my own woes started raining upon me. Two cats that I just wasn’t ready for. One of which has a terrible flatulence problem, his (other) mommy left him 3 sandwich baggies of food and hasn’t called since she dropped them off, I had no idea what sort of food she usually buys for him so I got them the best brand I could buy without any real prior kitty knowledge.  Now his little belly is wreaking havoc on my household of one…seriously, it smells like something crawled in there and built a sewage plant, then died.

Despite the wretched odor they are doing well and they are acclimating beautifully. It’s very cool to have someone greet you at the door with excitement and exuberance. It feels nice.

Gus, the bad cat farter, he’s 1 year old.  He has an eye issue, one is kind of fused 1/2 shut—he’s adorable and incredibly affectionate. He crawls on me every chance he gets and he has a penchant for sitting on my face…yeah…on my face, works out really well with the late-night fart attacks.

Jen is real laid back, he’s beautiful, all white with greenish eyes and a gentle and cool temperament, he’s 14. I love them already.

The craziest thing happened. Now that all the chaos in my life has settled I am finally able to spend more time with them. I took a shower last night and as usual they followed me into the bathroom, lurking on the chenille and heated floor tiles and when I stepped out they were both facing the opposite wall in a creepy Blair Witch kind of way…It freaked me out beyond belief then I just burst out laughing…What was that all about? Were they being shy…were they offended by my nekkidness?

What am I going to do when she comes to pick them up? They are so much fun and just really, really, really ridiculously good looking.

Gus gives me the Magnum in the mornings and Jen musters a Blue Steele every now and again.

Ah, the life.

The brilliant genius of love.

“I’ve Never Had It Done So Gently Before”
For M

The sweet juices of your mouth
are like castles bathed in honey.
I’ve never had it done so gently before.
You have put a circle of castles
around my penis and you swirl them
like sunlight on the wings of birds.

-Richard Brautigan

I want to live on Cristo Redentor’s bald spot.

So I was watching the Real World—I know, sad—but true.  And I saw a guy I used to work with a few years back, he was hilarious, I had the biggest crush on him and I hated his guts all at the same time.  He couldn’t stand me, but every so often he was nice and bought me a few drinks or had a conversation or two with me. 

He was known for over-pouring blackhaus shots, flirting with the ladies (especially the Irish) and after one too many man-gina shots—getting on the bar, twisting his shirt in a fancy knot and dancing to N’Synch’s Bye, Bye, Bye but one sad December he left Chicago and the dive we used to work at to pursue

The California Dream…

and he seems to be living it.

 this one’s for you JC…

What am I doing with my life?

i think i still hate him a little but he’s still hot!

If you’re ever in L.A. check out King Ten at the Improv Olympics

I never thought I’d say this but…The madness has to stop!

I am going on a strict diet-Weight Watchers Style, yo!

My ass is spreading by the minute and not in that Nomi Malone kinda way. I am not used to this new body, this new chin and these new rolls. I just ran into my “bus crush” today, after having seen him about a year ago—he and I were having a little thing…(in my head) and our quiet flirtations are no longer, he didn’t even recognize me.

On my lunch break I went to buy some new pants, mind you I haven’t been able to buy anything spectacular since, maybe New Years Eve—and it was probably one of the most depressing moments of my life…My ass no longer looked hot in a pair of jeans, they just looked sad. In fact they wept, the left cheek and the right one—teared up for their former selves and yelled at me to get them back in shape.

So as of next week me and my happy asses will be yoga-ing, tae boe-ing, and cardiovasculati-ing our way into a size (@!?*&%^).

But first: The All You can Eat Soul Food Buffet on 147th and Sibley! Woo Hoo!

I know…I know…I know…

Fraykin Eedgit, Yeah?

well here is the rub. like i said i like hanging out with you but realize that i don’t go out often, not with anyone, i mostly stay home. and i rarely if ever go out during the week. its not that i am avoiding you or you are a pity case or something its just that i cant make time to see everyone i’d like to all the time. and i do have other plans and obligations sometimes so i cant always drop whatever i’m doing and hang out, sorry.

later
-toast

Ouch. That’s a diss. But still in that I am a pussy and don’t want to miss any chances of getting any when that lonely hour sneaks up on me, kind of pussy…right? He might as well have signed the note -Big Pussy Loser. (I hate that word but it seems so appropriate in this circumstance.)

A sad perpetual pattern as it were, in my life. Too many Pussy’s, man-gina’s, prick-less wonders…Oh the list could go on and on. But I do hate the idea of emasculating men by describing them as a missing or failing sex organ; as if somehow they’re manhood is defined by what they hold in their jeans. So I shall refrain. To my male readers, i apologize deeply if this offended you.

I’m not bitter and it was still a pussy move.

The old T is coming back and she is ornery as hell…she would have never put up with an ounce of disinterest from any man five years ago, because she always new there were plenty of fish in the sea and life was too short to spin her wheels over men who don’t put her on their priority list…yet today she wrote the most pathetic letter apologizing for what she should have said one FULL year ago.

She would have never made excuses for a man who showed a lack of interest for her…she’d wash her hands clean and air- dry them whilst running briskly and far from this artificer of wills.

Even though it was he who asked me on a road trip a couple of weeks ago, I feel I have had a head on collision with a full-blown Diss…

no matter how you cut it up, slice it into quarters or tie it with a pretty bow. Its a pussy move, like many pussy moves men make and I think I have finally decided to walk away without ever looking back. (and if I do, I certainly won’t blog about it anymore)

Even though this guy is—who he is, he needs some work. We all do, God knows I need to improve on a “few” things…but I refuse to sell myself out the way I have for the past year over someone who may have loved me once but wants nothing to do with me now.

I am not making excuses…I, on one hand am no fool, but I can get caught up a little…honestly, he’s not a bad guy, but right now, the more I ignore my convictions the less of me there will be to hold to some admirable standard that I have claimed as my own…the less of me there will be to honor what it is that I deserve and receive from someone who wants to give it. Yes, he may be busy, yes he may be sincere, yes he may have other obligations…but not if he’s into me. Period.

I like to keep it real simple, don’t read into anything, take what is being said for face value and try not to over think actions vs. words. I am a strong believer of taking what men say for face value, listening for clues that don’t add up, but always hear what they are saying and take it as truth. There’s no time to play silly guessing games or fantasize about what he’s REALLY saying.

When he tells you he can’t make it to your friends’ wedding that you and he had been planning to go to for over a month because his buddies are in town—last minute; it doesn’t mean that he is selfless and sacrificing his “fun” with you for the people in his life that he honors…it means he’s a prick who wanted to celebrate the 420 holiday and bullocks to your friends wedding, he’ll suffer the consequences later…

No over analyzing.

No Reading into shit.

It’s important to take men at face value if they tell you who they are, listen!

If they say that they are a dick they probably are,

If they tell you they are no good to anyone right now—they really aren’t.

if they tell you that they are no good—they are no good.

This is no time to over aggrandize their feelings for you…

”his self-deprecation is so sexy look how vulnerable he is. *sigh* how cute, he just needs my warm bosom to rest upon as I comfort him and caress all his insecurities away…”

…Yeah…NO.

There is ABSOLUTELY no room to read-minds or flit, quixotically about how much pressure he’s under and how he just needs time and your thoughtful, selfless understanding.

BULLOCKS!

I mean when we were together last night it really got deep. He told me how he couldn’t wait to do this again but next time it should be much more romantic.

Yeah, and it was probably after you had hot, sweaty, monkey love…When a man doesn’t specify an exact day or time it’s just“post- coital-minutiae”. Look, don’t get me wrong, I ‘m not trying to shit on the parade-believe me. I want to trust my “intuition” and believe

that he loves me, but he just doesn’t quite know how and I can teach him how to love again…

but the reality is, no time is worth wasting spinning your wheels when hes not spinning his wheels over you.

but i think I’ll still go on that road trip with him though, I kind of need a life.

C’est la Vie…  SAY IT!!

Party on Y’all!

Okay this song reminds me of the first few weeks of a new relationship…that giddy I can tell you anything period where the very touch of him drives your hair follicles to stand on end, you can’t stop staring at him or smiling or touching him or kissing him, the very thought of him makes your heart skip something fierce, you’re happy all the time and you even smile at the bus driver in the mornings without your first cup of coffee of the day. That low-down, melt your hear all is right with the world feeling.

Ahhhh….life. Such sweetness in all its weird and torturous complexities.

And since I don’t know how to download music yet…I’ll leave you with the lyrics.

I’m sorry, but your cats just freak me out,
And the four of us don’t fit in your apartment.

You like my accent, and I got drunk with your dad
And his best friend with a gun strapped to his ankle.

You fit me perfectly
So in the chorus, I’ll sing what it’s like to be

Going out and laughing at nothing,
Drinking, kissing pushing and shoving,
Staying in bed till we get sore,
Calling in sick, so we can lay there.

You and me
It’s you and me.

Come to Europe. You can see where I come from.
When we get out of bed, you can meet my sister.

I really like you. Yeah, I really fucking do.
It’s a good thing we both know that it’s a good thing.

You and me, perfectly fit the chorus
So I’ll sing what it’s like to be

Going out and laughing at nothing,
Drinking, kissing pushing and shoving,
Staying in bed till we get sore,
Calling in sick, so we can lay there.

You and me
It’s you and me.

Going out and laughing at nothing,
Drinking, kissing pushing and shoving,
Staying in bed till we get sore,
Calling in sick, so we can lay there.

You and me
It’s you and me

I wistfully refuse to believe that LIFE is nothing more than a meaningless string of random events propagated by cynicism and rote science or religion that takes us to our inevitable and interminable deaths.

I believe there is magic behind everything we do and touch and see.  Each interaction and encounter is mystically ordained by a higher power- a divine energy that has our greater purpose in mind at all times.  Now how can that be balanced…How can I be, both, a flawed, foul-mouthed, liquor-loving, cigarette-smoking, cynical sexaholic and still carry this overwhelming desire to be closer to the divine?

I know there is a dualistic nature to life and I realize that meditation grounds you to the here and now and somehow breaks all ties to the past or the future— so the small pocket of NOW becomes all that there is and will be and has ever been, but how does one emotionally come to terms with the mystical without having some reverence for it?  Or can I still be a foul mouthed alcoholic and still want to be closer to The all knowing energy source that resides within and connects us to every living thing on this earth?

I don’t know…?   Your thoughts…?

I’ve read books that have changed my life—

The Tibetan Books of Living and Dying

Many Lives Many Masters

The Psychic Pathways

The Elegant Universe

God is a Verb

Everyday Khabbalah

Tree of Life

I Ching

The Power of Now

The Artists Way

The 7 Healing Chakras

Carolyn Myss, Wayne Dyer, Sonia Choquette, Deepak Chopra, Rabbi Cohen, Elizabeth Hay…blah blah blah…

it all excites me and helps to form my own personal spiritual practice, but do I need a teacher? 

a guru?

I am a coward.

I love my ex-boyfriend.

I think.

I love Vanilla Ice cream, this I know.

This I am sure of.

But my boyfriend…not so sure.

I will not be telling him

I have a list of reasons I shouldn’t,

a list of excuses,

unfounded misgivings,

crazy explanations

and valid truths not to.

I am a coward.

I can no longer give myself away.

I can no longer cut my flesh and trade it by the ounce…

wrap it in brown paper and pass it on as fresh and sellable–to strangers so cavalierly.

This does not mean that I cannot do it in the future,

but the exchange feels too precarious,

too misguided—now.

I have waited a long time to put myself out on the line…

I have no issue with being vulnerable or exposed,

the issue comes when you begin to feel like you’re compromising your own beliefs.

When you feel like you may be giving into someone else’s will.

There’s nothing wrong with that…

but I am FRAGILE,

ready to spill at any moment and I just can’t be her today.

I come off as—how ever I come off,

but deep down

I am a delicate breakable

who takes on the weight of words

like wet blankets and heavy baggage,

or china wrapped in dead bubble wrap

My leonine sensibilities have me roar like a lion —

mostly in truth,

but merely in fears of becoming found out

I am the kitten, new to the world and afraid of

heartbreak

and rejection

and abandonment

and failing.

Do I love him or am I just missing the comfort his presence brings?

Do I need him or do I just need his attention to reassure me that I am still desired?

Do I want him or am I just feeling needy and desperate?

I need an open heart not a coward

I need a confidant not a betrayer

a friend who’s loyal and has integrity and wants to be my someone special.

I need words with meaning not mono syllabic grunts

I need compassion not judgment

I need to be heard, not saved

I need to be seen.

Is this my ex?

I just don’t know.

I’m a bit crass, a bit worn for the weather, a bit under estimated, I can be sick and twisted, I can manage a little controversy I can even come out clean most times after a careless tirade. 

But I need silence. 

Nothing but silence. 

The world is getting louder and louder and making me do crazy shit…like want to yell at strangers about the chips on their shoulders, have  a stare down with some rude pedestrian, make me want to run over cab drivers and scream at screaming children having temper tantrums while their mothers blankly stare off into the ether.  The ether that seems to be slowly creeping in between everyone ears.  Can’t we just have some peace, some solace in being alive?  I want a good cup of Turkish coffee, a magazine, a cigarette and some good music. 

Is this too much to ask for?