I woke up at 4am with a splitting headache. Universal passive aggression at work. Not enough to actually wake me up, but enough to prevent me from slipping into a more comfortable sleep. I grudgingly got out of bed and teetered into the kitchen, my toes curling in defiance against cold unforgiving pink tiles.
I assembled my headache sinus treatments into one garbled mess in search of rapid relief, when I felt it. The whisper of something familiar across the nape of my neck. I didn't acknowledge it, time has taught me to let those moments be. Like a familiar lover's gaze that makes you blush, it felt comfortable and I didn't want to chase it away by making a fuss over it. I popped some aspirin, netied and put a warm compress against my tender eyes. As I closed them with a sigh, I saw the glow of purple against my eyelids. Eventually I wandered over to the couch and put the television on for company. At these hours, Mecca doesn't follow me. I laid down and kept my eyes focused on that purple glow. No thoughts. No worries. The meaningless prattle of Captain Kirk and Dr. Spock.
Beam me up, Scottie.
Warm fingers slide over the foot exposed beneath a furry blanket. They are not mine. I smile beneath my ever cooling compress, but I say nothing out loud. I stay with that moment of contentment, making no effort to clutch it or shove it away. I feel myself beginning to nod off as those fingers take hold of my toes firmly. There is the pulse of the one I can't see tapping a familiar melody. A distant melody that is only mine to know.
We' are all each others demons or angels... I heard that line in a movie once. Couldn't tell you what movie because I was nodding off on the couch when I heard it, but I recall it. And one day I'll find the movie it belongs to.
Demon or Angel. Only he would know for certain.
It's only fitting that I do these now as I'm back on the road again, effective tomorrow. Back to San Antonio. I will not slander the town anymore, because I can be a bit obnoxious and I know it.
Anyhoo...my random thoughts.
1. Dear NFL: If you're going to pack up two teams and ship them to England for a football game, can you at least pick two teams that are hot and fun to watch? Don't get me wrong...the Giants are fun for me to watch, but that's largely because of the perverse longing I feel for Michael Strahan. The Miami Dolphins? Miami doesn't even watch the Dolphins...why punish England?
2. Dear Austin, TX: I kid about the whole United States of Texas thing, but now I'm starting to wonder. How is it that I put on the Austin 8 all day news channel, or the nightly news...and never hear one lick of news that doesn't somehow link back to our town? I mean, I'm glad to hear that Great Granny Clara just ate her hundredth popsicle...but I'm kinda thinking you might wanna broaden your range a bit.
3. Speaking of broadening...A friend of mine was lamenting about some frustrations he's having with a...shall we say...cranially-challenged lover. In exasperation, he says to her today that she needs to consider broadening her palette regarding a project she's working on. When she stares blankly at him, he goes, "Palette, you know what I mean, right?" He says she answers...
(wait for it)
"Pontius Palette, he's the one that killed Jesus Christ."
I know he made it up...but daaaaamn, I nearly peed my pants on that one.
4. For those of you that are my tweeps, you may have noticed a ridiculously high preoccupation with "candeh" last week. I never indulged. And I still have not. I've just decided to stop torturing you with it.
5. There are two days left to this horrid mercury retrograde we're experiencing. It is painful, all sorts of people slipping, falling, panicking, having mechanical issues and general fuckery. I think someone should banish merc retros and send them packing. I just do not want. I'm high strung enough...I need no celestial intervention.
6. So my livingroom tank and bedroom tank are both thriving now that I've gotten my novice experience under my belt. The bedroom tank has 4 tiger barbs, 2 albino tiger barbs, 2 green barbs and 2 blue gourami. What a fun tank that one is to watch during evenings of insomnia. The livingroom tank may have a problem. I have three albino tin foil barbs in there. Red eyes, silvery reflective body, cool fish. But um...they are growing. And...apparently after I did my research...I gasped. Audibly. These lil darlings? Can grow to be eight inches (which would explain why it seems they've grown an inch in the past month). I may have to take them back, because 24 inches of fish in a 20 gallon tank might qualify as fish cruelty. Not to mention there are three tiger barbs that are looking like they might be a little nervous.
7. Neighbors may not like my passive aggressive "re-transferring" of their trash to THEIR bin. But I do not give a quarter of a fuck. You make a lot of trash frat boys, I understand. But do not assume I'm not using my bin. And ESPECIALLY do not assume I'm not going to notice that your bags have wandered "innocuously" into my bin. You know by now that I'm just ignorant enough to do exactly what I did. Love ya! (not)
8. Apparently, I'm not enough of a diva for my 13 year old neighbor who bounded into my house yesterday, wandered back into my bedroom only to gape in horror as she watched me randomly trimming my hair in the mirror. When she asked me if I was afraid I might make a mistake, considering how difficult it was for me to actually see what I was doing, I replied..."It's hair. It'll grow back." Apparently, fabulous women do not say these things.
9. Ready for some shock and awe? How about some shock and euw? I've failed to mention the now mildly painful ganglion on the top of my right foot. Apparently, I dropped something heavy on my foot at some point (so sad that I've done that so many times I'm not sure which moment did it)...and over time and with running on top, I've formed this wondrous knot on the top of my foot that someone referred to as a testicle. Humph. After this series of tradeshows has ended, lil RPM must visit the podiatrist for removal or...*shudders* draining. It doesn't HURT persay, but I cannot wear any of the boots in my kickass boot collection, and this...will never do. But it's also going to mean a few weeks in a soft cast and crutchery if they actually decide to cut the thing out *faints*. That may mean no pottery for a bit (that's my pedal foot)...so let's root for drainage. Did I just say lets root for drainage? GACK!
10. I have no more random thoughts. Weren't those enough?
Over a million iPhones have been sold. Have you: bought one, considered it, or decided it's not for you?
I had an interesting exchange a few weeks back while in San Antonio with one of my sales reps. He was showing me pictures of his cute floofy dog in a ladybug costume (which begs for it's own discussion) while simultaneously giving me the soft sell on the wonders of the iPhone. I have found myself repeatedly amused with folks who wonder how you can resist such a magical, tidy, neat and wondrous contraption. I almost find myself having to defend why I don't particularly care one way or the other.
"But why don't you want one?" His eyes nearly bugged.
I shrugged. "Just don't."
"But you have an ipod, right? You use a phone, right? You take pictures and like to surf the web and check your email, right?"
I nodded again, and handed him back the device wondering if I was supposed to start convulsing since I had managed to touch one with my own fingers.
"So why not consolidate your tools and use something that is so user friendly and quick and state of the art?"
I thought to myself. You know...it's not as if my Ipod weighs six tons requiring it's own luggage and license plate. And I'm not a fan of AT&T. I don't like being told which network I must subscribe to. My current phone checks email fine and I can surf the web and get directions easy enough. Is the iPhone sleek? Sure. But can I just say that...and not necessarily need to own it?
He stared at me blankly. "But, it's state of the art."
Yeah well, so is the latest in nuclear warfare, but you don't see me negotiating ownership with any superpowers to get in on the excitement. Finally he goes..
"But this phone makes your phone seem shitty."
I laughed and wondered how many inches of extra manhood his newest trinket afforded him.
I do not do not do NOT imply that people who are avid fans of the iPhone are compensating. Shit, the phone is sexy, it's functional, it's extremely well designed from what I've seen/experienced with it. But I'm okay with looking, and walking on. Can everyone else be okay with it?
...and I like to do drawings...
I was sitting on a bus, it felt like a public transportation bus except there were no people on it. Just me and the bus driver, who was the father of my best friend from high school. This would make sense, as that was her father's profession in reality. I was on my way to have surgery. I told him this, and for some reason he made a point of stopping by the old neighborhood to pick up his daughter. I told him it wasn't necessary, as she and I haven't spoken in years, but he drove to the old neighborhood anyway.
Surely enough she walks up to the bus door and climbs aboard. I felt immediate anxiety and discomfort. Our friendship ended rather abruptly in our early twenties, and by my own hand. She seemed indifferent to the time and distance and sat down chattering away as if we'd never missed a moment. I found myself studying her and experiencing the same old feelings I always felt when with her. Inadequacy because she was smaller, physically than I was. Jealousy because she seemed more capable of managing her life than I was. Angry because she seemed to have freedoms that I didn't believe I had. A huge bundle of resentment I was carrying that made me hate myself and hate her simultaneously.
Her father asked me what I was having done, I said I was having a transplant of some sort, that was life or death. We proceeded to the hospital as ineffectually as if I were going to have blood drawn or a cough examined. My childhood friend remained with me, for unknown reasons as they admitted me and prepped me for surgery. The entire time, I was consumed by the same thoughts. "She's smaller than I am. I bet her job is better. I imagine her life is better. She is free and whole and capable...and I am not."
She'd grown silent. Simply standing off the side while Doctor's began their assessment of me and removing my clothes. I was helped onto a table, and an anesthesiologist began prepping me. He told me what he was doing as he took each action, occasionally stopping the conversation to sing a few lines from a song I couldn't recognize. When he went to place the first series of tubes in my hand, I snatched my hand away. He told me I would feel a pinch, and tried to mask his annoyance with gentle assurance that he would work quickly. I resisted him again, then grudgingly relented and gave him my hand. My only reason for giving him my hand was the realization that I would die, if I didn't have the transplant.
I woke, just as I was going to sleep.
The key elements? Surgery. Transplant. The feelings linked to that old friendship. The resistance to anesthesia. Life and death. I normally struggle to get the meaning behind the few dreams I recall...but this one was clear.
The surgery is the need to cut away, or remove things with were no longer good for me. The transplant, the removal of negative beliefs to be replaced with healthier, more positive beliefs about who I am, in relation to the world around me. That old friendship, that friend, represents the world and my perception of it sees me and I regard it. The resistance to anesthesia seems to represent my struggle with letting go of old wounds. The significance of life and death...seems to indicate just how important it is to do just that.
Each day is a day of significance. You know you're aware of it, when every good thing that happens makes you beam and every setback is regarded not as catastrophe, but just something that needed to happen for whatever reason to be discovered or not.
Yesterday was a good day. I posted some pieces on Etsy, and experienced the child-like glee of completing two sales. They were sales to friends, but that did nothing to dampen my excitement or greater sense of accomplishment. I made a commitment to myself to keep at it, and enjoy the experience for whatever it is going to bring me.
We're nearing Nanowrimo time, and I'm trying to ramp up for the 50,000 word odyssey by developing my main characters and plot. I'm going to try something a little different this time. We'll see where the wind takes me.
This morning, I met a lizard on my patio screen. We shall call him Leonard. Leonard scared the bejeezus out of me initially, but take a closer look at him. He's quite a cutie:
So what does the Lizard symbolize?
* the importance of listening to your own perception and intuition above anyone else's
* the significance or hidden importance of recent dreams
* the importance of detachment in order to achieve broader desires your have expressed
Check, Check and Check.
Yesterday I experienced a recurring dream that I do not share, but log each time it arrives. This time the dream was a bit different. But very linked to a common theme. I spoke to the only person who knows about it, and we considered it's significance. Ironic that detachment would come up as well, because for me, that's been a greater challenge in my life. Learning to wish, want and desire without squeezing those wishes, wants and desires to within an inch of their fragile, formative existences. And then finally, perception and intuition. Boy oh boy...could I take you on a trip...
But this is a time for silent knowing for me. Trusting what I know, even if I cannot provide you with proof that might suit your tastes. Being still in these moments and enjoying them for what they are.
Gobbling up rocks at the campsite.
Have a great day, Voxiverse.
You don't even want to know what sort of anxiety inducing terror has swarmed in me about doing this. I am nearly crying laughing at myself, as I post a few pieces to the Etsy board for sale. I'm new at this. Be gentle with me. I argued aggressively with one of my best friends about everything from pricing, to descriptions.
I am exhausted. If I survive the remainder of this week and manage to sell a thing, I will post more this weekend.
Ack.
*RPM stumbles, falls to the floor and prays for bacon to fall from the sky*
You may shop here.
These are the items currently up for sale.
