Twenty one years ago today, I met V.
I write this to make the commemoration that, as of today, I have known V for exactly half of my life.
While in theory, I have looked forward to this day, the reality of its arrival actually depresses me today.
So I was close to grasping the meaning of my dream that I had the other night…
Now I’m pretty sure that I know what the ferryman in that dream was saying.
Do you know what that Latin quote means?
It means
‘ Baby, sweetheart, would I lie to you?’
All I can say is this:
I know who the ferry man is referring to, and it isn’t himself, of course.
Another case of ‘I see what you did there.’
and using sarcasm about lying to point me to the truth.
First, my laptop died. Something shorted on the motherboard, it seems.
Then, I went to Facebook, and I saw one of those visual meme/quotes tiles:
And then, interspersed between the “Love and Strength to Boston!” posts, was this:
And after that, I noticed this on the feed of another FB acquaintance:
~~~
Unfortunately, I think that I can guess what the Universe is trying to say to me today.
I just foolishly thought that there might be some way around it.
I might regret it, but I’m on Twitter now.
I joined so that I could follow and support the awesome thing that Tom Hiddleston is doing. He’s trying the SNAP Challenge, and I wanted to follow his tweets.
I know.
How fangirl-ish of me.
My heart really hurts today; a physical pain.
Maybe I’m mis-reading it.
Maybe it is nothing more than a pulled muscle, or maybe even indigestion.
It could be a sort of indecision, or possibly, stress.
Either way, my heart hurts today.
~~~
Things have been tense.
I’m not sure if it is that things are moving forward, and I am fighting it, or if things aren’t moving at all, and I’m being stubborn, or subconsciously blocking the message/being willfully blind to seeing what I need to see.
I have felt this way before, and looking back on it, it was always when something in my life was out of whack and needed to be confronted.
My body manifests physical pain long before I notice the reasons why, long before I think about finding the root cause of it. I deal with it, thinking I’m being brave or strong or whathaveyou, and then, I start to realize:
“Shit, it seems like I’ve had a headache for weeks.”
or
“I can’t remember how long it has been that I’ve been feeling this ‘tightness’ in my neck/shoulders/chest/upper back,” as I consider yet another day, feeling keyed up and run down at the same time.
(Once I had a massage therapist tell me that it is as if I have a small knotty animal that lives in my upper back to the left of my spine, and ze needs a lot of vigorous prodding to unwind.)
And when I realize that I’m feeling pain — and can’t ignore it anymore — only then do I start to examine what I’ve been focusing on lately.
Usually, I find some sort of pattern of negativity, of worry, of doubt somewhere. I’ve had enough therapy in my life to learn how and when and where in my body that my emotional pain manifests itself physically.
In my head.
In my heart.
~~~
Here is an excellent post from P. Sufenas:
~~~
I have to say that this post hits me with food for thought on so many levels, that I am still untangling exactly on which level it inspires me first.
The reason that I link to their post is because it is an amazing post on privilege, passing, and thoughtful discussion on how interactions with others can require that an individual make decision — sometimes daily — to either wear or *not* wear various ‘masks’ that denote ‘normalcy’ in our culture.
Very thought-provoking stuff for me today, as I consider the changes that are manifesting in my own life.
~~~
To be perfectly honest, I have been struggling lately with several key situations and changes concerning my job, my marriage, my gender, and my spirituality.
It seems almost more than a coincidence that we are coming up on a year since I participated in a very moving mask ritual in honor of Loki and April 1st.
I realize that, last year, there were a few masks that I had decided to discard, and in that regard, I feel that April 1st 2012 was a significant ‘coming out’ for me in a few, very important ways.
I discarded two significant ‘masks’, and yet, I realize that there remain several other masks firmly in place.
In that vein, I am thinking on what masks still serve me, and what masks I am willing to discard for the sake of authenticity.
I may not get to choose, and so, I sit with the possibilities.
Ugh. It’s been quite the emotional rollercoaster of a day today.
I’m so glad that it’s almost over.
I thought that I had a new episode of Game of Thrones to look forward to — what made me think that the new season would begin March 13th rather than March 31st? — but, as you may have guessed, I do not.
Another good thing is, that my job might be saved for another quarter.
It looks like I will have enough hours this go-round to hold onto my position for a few more months.
🙂
(But if I don’t make it the next quarter, it’ll give me a good reason to shave my head and pierce my nose. I have been wanting to, for a while now.)
Yeah, that’s what my mid-life crisis looks like.
OK, so I guess that I’d better point this out.
Ugh. After all that writing, one thing becomes clear:
Loki giving me cuddles and forehead kisses *would be* hard emotional work for me.
So maybe I shouldn’t snark that concept, after all.
.
(With much thanks to crazy dumbsaint of the mind. )
1. Where were you born? Boston, MA.
2. Were you named after someone? No, not someone. Some thing, I suppose. My dad wanted to name me Angela. My mom wanted to name me Sabrina. And they couldn’t agree; each one disliked the other’s suggestion. So they left it up to my two oldest siblings, my brother, aged 5 and my older sister, aged 2, at the time. (I have another older brother, but he had just turned a year old two weeks before. As a matter of fact, today — March 6th — is his birthday.) They both liked the sound/concept of ‘Heather’ — a pretty purple flowered shrubbery. <–(A shrubbery! Not too tall, not too short, and not too expensive….*grin*)
(It was the 70’s, so it is also very possible that my older sister might have also had a Holly Hobbie doll. Holly Hobbie’s little sister/friend, by the way, was named Heather.)
3. How many children do you have? Two
4. How many pets do you have? I have one dog, three cats, and one ferret.
5. Your worst injury? Probably that time that I knocked out both of my front teeth trying to ride a wooden wagon down Harmony Lane (which was a very steep hill) when I was 7 years old. There was a line of fence posts at the base of the hill. Gah. I suffered a concussion, too.
6. Do you have a special talent? Huh, probably. I make a really delicious apple pie, among other things.
7. Favorite thing to bake? Chocolate chip cookies.
8. Favorite Fast Food? Anything with bacon, I suppose.
9. Would you bungee jump? I really don’t think so. (As Rebecca had said, I think that there’d have to be a sizeable cash prize for doing so, if ever, at all.)
10. What is the first thing you notice about people? I notice how people treat each other in their personal sphere — especially how they treat service personnel that they come in contact with (waitstaff, checkout clerk, the door greeter at a hotel). Maybe it’s because I’ve worked in some form of customer service all my life. Other than that…I know that it’s going to sound shallow, but usually I notice people’s shoes.
11. When was the last time you cried? Last night.
12. Any current worries? How my son K is going to do on the FCAT.
13. Name 3 drinks you drink regularly. Coffee, water, whiskey. Though, not usually, all at once.
14. What’s your favorite book? Gah. As if I could pick just one. Several of my all-time favorites: Galina Krassakova’s Feeding the Flame, James Thurber’s The Thurber Carnival, Angela Carter’s Saints and Strangers, Flannery O’Connor’s A Good Man is Hard to Find, and…. any short story anthology written by Ray Bradbury.
15. Would you like to be a pirate? Possibly. I mean, I’m not so great at the hand to hand combat, but I can wear an eyepatch with little to no ill effect to my depth perception.
16. Favorite Smells? Popcorn, leather, rain in the trees, woodsmoke, oranges, and cloves.
17. Why do you blog? Because I fear succumbing to Alzheimers. Too much that I don’t want to forget.
18. What song do you want played at your funeral? Hm. As it is with the books (above), I love all kinds of music. Hopefully the loved ones that I leave behind will create an interesting soundtrack of the various songs that I love, and play them.
19. What is your least favorite thing about yourself? Ah, Rebecca; I agree with this one: I, too, am a slacker of epic proportions. I have great intentions but no follow through. I routinely welcome — and often, need — a cosmic boot up my ass.
20. Favorite hobby? Writing.
21. Name Something you’ve done, you never thought you would do? I used to think that an avowed misanthrope like myself could never find the wherewithal to go to a HUGE event (like LR or DO), without a partner, and still have a fantastically soul-enriching social experience.
22. What do you look for in a friend? A certain level of unabashed geekiness, an interesting vocabulary, a well-developed sense of compassion, and a wry sense of humor.
23. Favorite fun things to do? Laugh. Stargaze. Have sex.
24. Pet peeves? Telemarketers, willful ignorance, dishonesty, and inability to accept responsibility for one’s actions and the impact on others.
25. What’s the last thing that made you laugh? A hilariously absurd episode of Spongebob Squarepants. (Sorry, Rebecca.)
I’m supposed to tag 8 people to do this but I’m not gonna do that! If you want to do this, do it.Then let me know you did it so I can read it.
Sometimes, I wish that I could sit and write all day.
So much stuff on my mind.
But I wake up every day promising myself that I’ll get to the mundane things, like folding laundry, or sorting out the filing cabinets, but then, things occur to me.
I get ideas.
I have epiphanies.
Connections between things begin to strike me, and I have this incredible need to write them down…because I fear that I’ll forget what it was that I meant to say, what I sought to remember, and everything seems so fucking important.
Not so important as to share with the blogosphere as much as it’s important to me that I don’t forget the connections that I came to. I feel like I am remembering a lot of stuff that I had previously forgotten, lately.
So, I write in my notebook -my paper journal – and I promise myself that I will flesh it out later, and I hope that I don’t forget where I was going entirely, if I should find myself going back -after I’m done with the laundry — to read that rough outline of thoughts.
~~~
And other times, I get the urge to draw…and I wish that I could draw well enough to convey what is without words.
In that, too, sometimes I wish that I could sit and draw all day.
So this is me making a placeholder, of sorts, about a specific hit-me-like-a-ton-of-bricks moment that hit me this morning — about when I was younger — like age 11 or so — and how I used to draw incessantly.
And the subject matter concerned one particular thing.
There’s a connection there, today.
bloodteethandflame 
