Woohoo!!! I finally hit 120lbs! So what do I do? Come home and sit on my ass after running.
For those of you, who have had a wonderful thanksgiving and have been busy (I’ve run out of fingers counting you all), let me know what’s up when things calm down. We all know I’m an attention whore. Now, if I could cut back on the inadvertent drama factor. 😦
There is something inherently pleasant, about sitting in a coffeehaus, in a corner somewhere, as the lunch crowd bustles around, as I remain invisible. Solitude is an amazing thing, that locks me into a book, jumping from space to space in seconds of time. Not having to explain anything to anyone, my thoughts in my head revolving around like a slowly stewed soup on the stove. The occassional new ingredient that stirs things up, before spreading out and making the mixture homogenous again.
I have the urge to go to the mountains, maybe I’ll do that Tuesday. Dragging my closest kindred with me, so that we can stand across the TriRiver’s damn, yelling profanities and slanders to the rocks on the other side, before retreating to the bed in the car, to stare at the bright sun streaming through and contemplating the meaning of life. It’s nice, having someone I don’t have to verbally communicate with, being able to just sit in shared solitude, vibrating off each other and knowing exactly what is sitting in that other head. I think that’s why I seek out the kindred that I have, reassurance that I’m not the only one who thinks how I do. There’s that shockwave, that resonates when I meet one, often found to be that feeling that I’ve known someone forever. No real introductions, it just is, and just exists in that time and place. Separation bears no issue, because the next meeting just results in taking off from the point left, as if no time has passed between.
And in that, I am brought back to one of my soulmates. I love you Big Cat, I never would have fully explored this part of me, if it hadn’t been for you. You came into my life when I needed you, and that, I will never forget.
Ok, we all know that my customers are mostly annoying rednecks (not the cool, cultured kind like ETR). So here’s the latest dose of their imagination….
They want to kill the earth
Even though I don’t fully agree with this religious holiday called Thanksgiving, I do have things that I am thankful for….
I am thankful for parents, who let me live how I wanted, no matter how big of a headache I gave them.
I am thankful for a partner, who appreciates me and everything that is me.
I am thankful for my local friends, who appreciate the value of “just hanging out.”
I am thankful for my kindred, no matter how much the distance between all of us, we are still close.
I am thankful for the safety of my Candiman, who puts his self in harm’s way on a daily basis.
I am thankful for the knowledge, that the Marine is happy, alive, and doing what he loves.
I am thankful for my new family, who has much to teach, much to share, and gives me the chance to share in that.
I am thankful for my net family, who show me that I am not alone in everything I feel.
I am thankful for my muse, who shows me the passion in everything I see and experience and inspires the words.
Lovely news for today, too bad I don’t think what I do is wrong. Of course, I get permission first, because I came with instructions….
Female infidelity can be blamed on parents…
Scorpio for this week:
This is one of those odd turning points when you have a license to be a cute brat in charge of mischievous healing. I dare you to stir up the exact kind of trouble that will make everyone feel better. It’s also a good time to start benevolent rumors, break out in song during committee meetings, and push your own buttons before anyone else can push them. Please try to be one step ahead of yourself at all times, Scorpio. And if you can’t seem to resist your craving for the metaphorical equivalent of pickles and ice cream–and I’ll be amazed if you can–be sure you balance it by cultivating a desire for ketchup and banana sandwiches.
Hrm. This sounds like fun, except for the magically pregnant cravings. Yeck!
and ladies, this time around, you have to specify the gender of your screener that feels you up.
Now, I walk to her, with open arms. It is time for me to die.
For all my friends that are enjoying the drunkenness that is Metal music, tonight \M/\M/ Two horns up, and drink some whiskey for me.
I forgot my yoga mat tonight. So I used a studio one. 15 minutes in, we start the first of many Chataranga’s. I smelled the mat, it had that new mat, just taken out of the plastic smell. That specific smell that only gymnasts are really familiar with, and suddenly I was 10-years-old again. The smell of chalk was coming from somewhere, but it was there, being soaked up by me. It was wonderful, I was in my happy place, the first real gym that wasn’t an old storefront with no heating in the middle of Illinois, or a YMCA gym that had to be built up and broken down every night. The floor was a real floor, spring-based and everything. The leather on the beam, mixed in with the sweat, blood and chalk of every gymnast that came before me. Hard work, and satisfaction in one whiff. Perfection attained by a young body, well before real, physical maturity. Precision and wisdom, well beyond years, with a drive to satisfaction, unequaled by those beyond years. Mmmmmmmmmmm. Heaven.