Susan Miller Says So

"This month will provide you with a rare chance to big leap ahead in your career. You have a narrow window, but it's a superb one. You won't have any problems getting the attention and support of higher-ups with this lineup of planets. After these little partygoers disperse, they will not be back to this same part of your chart for a very long time. Mars is not due to return for two years. In the case of Venus, Mercury, and the Sun, those are not scheduled to come back until next year. The most important planet in this group, Jupiter, giver of gifts and luck, will not be back for 12 years. Last month you had this beautiful lineup but Mercury spoiled the pudding. This month you will have no such impediments. This is why you must show the universe your intentions and go after your career goals with a vengeance, dear Cancer! Go for the gold! You will have all the right conditions, from May 1-15!"


Done.

Rearrangement Derangement

I think my compulsion to rearrange furniture is getting worse. 

Or maybe I just never had the right opportunities until now.

After all, there aren’t many ways to arrange a bedroom when the width of the room itself is precisely the length of your bed.  And two of the four walls are windows.  And the third wall is all built-in closets.  And the final wall is the door.  There are about one-and-a-half ways to arrange a room like that.  In a weird way, I miss that room.

Sometimes I miss college, too. 

Granted, my apartment now is pretty small.  It’s perfect for one person and absolutely no more.  But it’s a good shape: a big open square with the kitchen along one side, bathroom in the back.  Lots of wall space, plenty of floor space, a mountain of possibilities. 

The urge hits me every few weeks or so.  I’ll get the bug to move something, just move something, for the sake of moving something.  Well, okay that’s not totally true.  I am trying to make things more efficient.  I want it to be better than it is now.  I try to utilize the space in the best possible way, combine function with Shui, maximize its potential.  So when I rearrange, the new setup is usually much better than the previous.  This is great!  This is the best it can possibly be!

But then the weeks pass, and I see it . . . I see that one thing . . . I see that old something in a new way and then it’s like little ticks on my brain tick tick tick tick and they won’t leave me alone tick tick tick tick until I just go to town on that dresser or that desk or that silly microwave situation that hasn’t been working for months.  Fix it fix it just fix it, just jonesin’ to destroy the room and pull it all back together again in a moment of frenzy and magic.

Ahhh.  Yes, that's it.  It’s the best it can possibly be!  It’s great!  Never will it be better than this! 

. . .

. .

.

Then . . .

Then  .  .  . 

That.  One.  Little.  Thing . . .

tick tick tick tick tick

fix it fix it fix it just fix it already

And then it just kind of starts all over again. 

Yes, this condition is definitely getting worse. 

Or better, depending how you look at it.

Colonoscopies & Txt Spk

May 10, 2011

My step-dad (whom we have lovingly dubbed “Fahzja” and who just started his very own blog, viewable at www.jimyoungtheguiltyone.blogspot.com) went in for what I hear is a long overdue colonoscopy.  I am no stranger to the event – not from my own experience, but because I work with mostly older folks.  I know all about the no-eating rules, the laxatives, the prep, the discomfort . . . However, I did not know about Pops’ said Nether Adventures until receiving a text message from my mom this morning:

Fahzja has a camera up his butt . . . i m sipping a latte . . . Ahhh.  Life is good.

Now, I must note that my mom has just recently discovered text messaging.  (A little bit of peer pressure goes a long way.)  I was confused, one day getting a text from “Mom Cell.”  What?  Mom doesn’t text.

hey pea ! Lookit wut yer po ol yo can do . im skurd ha

Much to my bewilderment, I replied “What! I’m so corn-fused!”

i know iz wackt !

Since then, I’ve received messages every few days or so, like

I just lrnd 2 use an I pad! 4 wrk. Very skery cuz I took 2 it like duk 2 water.

She takes “text speak” to a whole new level.  Those fast nimble-fingered ‘tweens ain’t got nothin’ on my Ma.  And it is a little skery, because my mom has historically found it difficult learning to use new gadgets.  So this is, like, really really cool and really really fun.

U r gelus. Don’t deny it

That I am.

Pretty Things

Loves of my life.

Perfume bottle collection

(and various doilies)

I'm on Board With This

"Writing in the Journal of Medical Ethics, psychologist Richard Bentall proposed that happiness be reclassified as a 'psychiatric disorder' -- a pathology that should be treated with therapy.  'Happiness is statistically abnormal,' he argued.  It 'consists of a discrete cluster of symptoms, is associated with a range of cognitive abnormalities, and probably reflects the abnormal functioning of the central nervous system.'  If he's correct, Cancerian, you may have a problem.  According to my reading of the astrological omens, you're about to be besieged by a massive influx of good feelings.  It may be hard for you to fend off surges of unreasonable joy, well-being, and gratitude.  So let me ask you: Are you prepared to enter into rebel mode as you flaunt your abnormal bliss?"

2011 Rob Brezsny
Free Will Astrology

What. Ever.

Today is just not happening.

I can’t believe I bruised the top of my foot with a frozen sausage.  A frozen sausage!

He went rogue and leapt out of the baggie, slippery bugger, and assaulted the bony part of my rather delicate paw.  Hurts like a sonofabitch.  He eventually landed on the floor and I didn’t even bother to wash him off before popping him in the wave. 

That’ll teach him.

I am convinced weirdness occurs in waves.  Or clusters.  Or bunches.  Or some sort of categorizable grouping.

Yesterday a woman seated in front of me on the bus felt compelled to discuss the activities of her life at full volume, directed at nobody, voiced with terrible importance.  Then she stopped suddenly and turned around one-hundred-eighty degrees to look me in the face, wild and wide-eyed, as if I might have a reply. 

Perhaps she was talking to me. 

I met her gaze with stony calm, what I thought was a pretty direct “What?” or “No thanks I’m not interested” or perhaps “I’m not in the mood” because I really was not in the mood.  Plus, she had not asked a question for which there should be a reply. I felt partly at a loss and partly annoyed by her interrogatory manner.  And partly I’m starving get me home now before these raw eggs make their way into my gullet.

She held my gaze for a moment, looking into what felt like the deepest extent of my soul, then quickly turned around and continued hollering about Scorpios and their cutoff date and why the weather is doing what it’s doing.

I shifted in my seat, strangely uncomfortable, and focused my attention on a baby munching happily on a tulip her mom had picked for her.

Get me out of here.  PleaseandThankYou.

On the Docket:

1) Find some dark wash tailored shorts

2) Start fretting about trip to California

3) Find new hair stylist (WAH)

4) Call landlord and tell her I want one of the units in the

   building that has a balcony

5) (Consequently, request substantial raise from employer to

   afford said unit)

6) Further utilize coupons on the backs of Fred Meyer receipts

7) Find a long skirt made of slinky material that doesn’t make me

   look like a pear

About now, I sincerely regret eating not one, not two, but three chili dogs for dinner last night. 

Okay, for my second dinner. 

Because I was still hungry.

Because nothing else sounded appetizing.

Just be glad that I didn’t follow through with the ice cream I contemplated.

I have some willpower.