(and if you try them, I'd love to hear about it!)
1 large yellow onion, 6-8 stalks celery, 1 bell pepper, 4-6 carrots
Dice each in food processor, sautee in olive oil and 2 T chopped
garlic until the onions are clear. Add 4 c lentils, mix in with veggies
well, sautee until the lentils sweat. Add 2 T red curry.
Pour in 5 c veggie stock and 3-4 c water. Bring to rolling boil, then
bring down heat to simmer uncovered, stirring every 10 mins (and
no sooner!) until lentils are very soft and dhaal is a porridge
consistency. Add salt to taste.
Garnish with chopped green onion and cilantro. Also excellent with
plain yogurt or sour cream!
2 T chopped garlic, handful of cilantro, 2-4 T lemon juice, pinch salt,
1-2 T cumin, 2 16-ox cans garbonzo beans (chickpeas), olive oil
Toss everything in food processor on high, adding drizzling in olive oil
until hummus is the consistency of a spreadable paste.
3. Hummus Veggie Pita
1 bell pepper, 1 small onion, approx. 1 c sliced mushrooms, olive oil,
chopped garlic, Pita bread, romaine lettuce, hummus, crumbled feta
Thinly slice onions, chop bell pepper, toss in frying pan with
mushrooms, olive oil, and garlic, and sautee until onions are almost
completely carmelized. Heat pita in microwave (to make it easy to
open without tearing), spread hummus on one
side, then layer with lettuce, veggies, and top with feta.
Deceptively filling, and incredibly delicious!
4. Unionville Old Tavern Corn Fritters
1 c flour
1 1/2 t baking powder
1/3 c milk
15 oz whole kernel corn
1 T melted butter
oil for deep frying
10x (confectioner's sugar)
Combine flour and baking powder; set aside. In another bowl,
beat eggs and milk, stir in corn and butter. Stir egg mixture into
dry ingreds until just blended. In deep-fat fryer or skillet, heat
oil to 375 degrees. Drop batter by heaping t's into oil, fry 2-3 mins
or until golden brown. Drain on paper towels, sprinkle with
5. Zucchini Quiche
4 eggs, plus 1 extra yolk
2 c whipping cream
1 bunch green onions w/stem, sauteed lightly
4 med zucchini, grated
1 T mustard
1 t salt
2 c grated cheddar
Beat everything and pour into lightly browned pie crust.
Bake 45 mins at 400 d's.
6. Veggie Divine
Sauce: 1 large can cream of chicken soup, 1/2 c mayo,
1 T lemon juice, 1-2 T red curry paste
2-3 heads chopped broccoli, equal parts chopped carrots,
celery, and sliced mushrooms. Toss veggies in 8x11 baking
tin or casserole dish. Spoon sauce on top, bake at 375 degrees
until veggies are al dente, then top with shredded cheddar and
place back into oven until cheese is melted.
(chicken pieces on top of veggies is optional, but will affect baking
7. Cheddar Potato Soup
4 large potatoes
2 c water
1 small onion, chopped fine
3 T butter
3-4 T flour
3 c milk
1 c shredded cheddar
(1 c cubed ham or kielbasa optional)
Peel potatoes and cut into 1" cubes. Bring water to boil, add
potatoes and cook until tender. Drain, reserving liquid. Set
potatoes aside. Melt butter in same saucepan, add onion and
sautee until onion is translucent and tender. Add flour,
season with ground pepper to taste. Cook approx 5 mins, then
gradually add potatoes, 1 c of potato liquid, and milk to onion
mixture. Stir well! Add cheese (and ham). Simmer over low
heat 30 mins, stirring frequently.
8. Chile Rilleno Casserole
For those of you who love chile rillenos, but abhor the work!
(hehe, like me)
Mix in blender: 4 eggs, 3 T flour, 1 small can evap milk, 2 T salsa
In glass/pyrex casserole, lay whole chiles (2 16 oz cans or one
large can Ortega green chiles), sprinkle w/grated cheeses (colby
jack, or mixed variety). Add another layer of chiles and
cheese, just like with a lasagna. Cover with egg batter.
Bake 35 mins at 325 degrees. Sprinkle on top with spoonfuls
of salsa, return to oven for 15-20 mins. Let set 10 mins, enjoy!
*Tip: rinse chiles under cold running water first and pat dry,
before laying in pyrex. Trust me on this.
9. Spicy Fish Soup
4 c fish stock
2" chunk fresh ginger, peeled & sliced thinly
2-3 lemongrass stalks, chopped (peel off outer layer)
3 kaffir lime leaves (1-2 T lemon juice optional)
shredded bunch garlic chives (green onions work just as well)
1 bunch cilantro, leaves & stems separated, stems chopped
1 T olive oil
4 shallots, chopped
4+ T fish sauce
1-2 T red curry paste
1 lb fresh uncooked shrimp, with peels (and heads, if you can)
1 lb fresh white fish
Pour fish stock into large pan. Add ginger slices, lemongrass, and
half lime leaves (or half lemon juice). Add half the chives and
cilantro stalks. Bring to rolling boil, set heat to low and cover,
simmer 20 mins.
In separate pan, add oil and shallots, cook over med heat 5-10
mins until shallots just turn brown. Add to stock. Add
remaining kaffir leaves (or lemon juice), 2 T fish sauce. Heat
until simmer, 5-10 mins. Add curry and shrimp, simmer 5 mins.
Add fish and remaining lime/lemon. Season to taste. Garnish
with the rest of the chives, and cilantro leaves.
Fish Stock: Peel shrimp, place peels and heads into pot. Add 4 c
water, cover and simmer 30 mins. Strain. Voila! Fresh fish stock.
*Tip: If you've never used fish sauce before, be careful! It's not
fishy, but it adds a salty taste to a lot of asian dishes without being,
y'know, salty. It's very flavorful! If the soup isn't salty enough, add
fish sauce a teaspoon at a time and taste! The difference between
not enough and, "Holy crap, that's gross!" is a very fine line. Don't
re-create my misadventures with fish sauce, if you can help it. Fish
sauce can be found at asian food stores, and some grocery stores. A lot
of the time it's also known as nuoc mam sauce.
10. Amaretto Cookies
1/2 lb blanched almonds
4-5 drops bitter almond oil
1/4 c sugar
2 egg whites
1 T 10x
Finely grind almonds in food processor or grinder. Mix ground
almonds with almond oil, sugar, and lightly beaten egg whies.
Knead mix into firm dough. With moistened hands, form dough
into 1" balls. Dough should yield approx 45 balls.
Place balls at least 1" apart on baking sheet covered with baking
parchment. Use a 2nd baking sheet if needed.
Preheat oven to 250 degrees. Place baking sheet on bottom rack
and bake 55-60 mins. Transfer cookies to wire rack. With sieve,
dust cookies with 10x while still warm
11. Lime Jello Surprise
I loved this as a kid...
2 pkgs lime jello
1 c boiling H2O
1 c iced cold H2O
1 lb cottage cheese
1 pt heavy whipping creame
lg can crushed pineapple, drained
Whip cream until light and fluffy. Add 1 c boiling water to jello.
Stir well, add cold water and let gel slightly. Whip on electric
mixer. Add other ingreds slowly, and beat. Cherries can
be added for color, but ours never lasted long enough to matter.
Pour into mold and let set.
12. Funnel Cake
1 c flour
3/4 c milk
1 t baking powder
1/8 t salt
oil for frying
In mixing bowl, mix flour, milk, baking powder, salt, and egg.
Let batter rest for 10 mins.
Heat oil in large heavy skillet until very hot. Drip batter
through a metal funnel into oil, forming a spiral-designed cake.
Carefully flip over when browned. Remove when browned on
both sides a deep golden color. Drain on wire rack with paper
towels. Sprinkle with 10x
13. Dragon's Breath Nog
1 dozen eggs, separated
1/2 c sugar
1 c sugar
1/4 t salt
1 qt heavy cream
1 qt milk
1 pt bourbon
1/2 pt rum
In large bowl, beat egg whites until very stiff, then beat
in 1/4 c sugar. In small bowl, beat egg yolks, 1/2 c sugar
and salt until well blended. Combine contents of both bowls
and mix thoroughly.
Beat heavy cream until stiff peaks form.
Add milk and bourbon to egg bowl and mix well. Add
whipped cream, mix well.
Add rum, mix well, and bottle. Age for at least 4 weeks in
fridge; the longer it ages, the better and smoother it is.
Recipe yields approx. 1 gal. Shake very well before
Links to other Thursday Thirteens!
1. (leave your link in comments, I’ll add you here!)
CAPRICORN (Dec. 22-Jan. 19): Accountants at an Australian car insurance company have found that Capricorns are the safest drivers. Correlating birth data with crash rates, they found that your sign is the least accident prone. This probably has to do with your renowned patience and carefulness. While I applaud you for that accomplishment and urge you to continue expressing your attention to detail while operating heavy machinery, I also recommend that in the coming week you make room for happier kinds of accidents. You need certain educational blessings that only serendipity can provide.
well, i suppose no car accidents can definitely make up for the fact that delena is totally accident prone everywhere else. hey, i didn't break 22 of my toes on purpose, y'know. and my funkmates are quite accustomed to hearing me cry, "Wahhh!" as i randomly lose my balance for no reason whatsoever and crash into something that has a better relationship with gravity than i do.
and oh, the temptation to crack open the box of bad jokes about my attention to detail while operating heavy machinery! of course, if all my closest friends didn't already know that i use my hot pink recreational device purely as a visual punch line rather than for its original purpose, i probably would let the jokes roll.
but anyway. happier kinds of accidents? now, we're not talking about accidents like the time i forgot i was wearing a bunch of bananas on my head for the entirety of that grocery trip, are we? "you gonna leave the store like that?" my bio-mom asked.
"like what?" and i blinked at her with that genuine WTF? expression.
or like that time i didn't know the e-brake was on, and didn't realize anything was even out of the ordinary until a mile or so down the highway when a car rode alongside us and the people were pointing to all that white smoke billowing out behind us.
or like that time i accidentally left the spoon in the bowl when i went to nuke my cereal.
or that time when i was nine and i threw that pineapple upside-down cake together, except i misread the measurement for the oil. or when i was making old-fashioned popcorn, and that was the night our neighbor rang the doorbell because no one was home at her place and there was some emergency . i noticed a faintly odd smell and went to the kitchen, totally having forgotten i was heating up popcorn oil. i lifted up the lid, and this blazing fireball went up in the kitchen that my bio-dad could see from the street, which is funny because the kitchen was in the back of the house...
really, i'm not accident-prone. i'm just slightly forgetful with a horrible sense of balance. really.
lately i've been rather accident-free, and i'm trying to keep it that way. but apparently i should be making room for accidental serendipity. i'm getting the strong feeling, however, that this means i need to be going out a bit more. here at the house of dragons' rest, the house tyrant and i --the clan mother-- like to keep our lair as a bit of a controlled environment. not much room for accidents...or even serendipity, for that matter. order, serenity, and kitty zen are the prevailing senses one gets when one walks into our den.
accidents and even serendipity are more likely to happen Out There. that sounds kind of ominous, especially since lately i've been keeping indoors and focusing on looking inward, and rebuilding and restructuring my fragile inner self into the bombastic and funky shining being i strive to become. perhaps my incubation period's come to an end, and it's time for me to hatch and take a look outside the rookery, see what's Out There that's Good.
well, what better armor could i possibly have to serve me? my thoughts create my own reality, what i see is what i get, and the universe is even now and ever conspiring to shower me with blessings.
the oxford-delena dictionary
1. pertaining to or characteristic of the unconventional life of a bohemian
2. (usually lowercase) a person, as an artist or writer, who lives and acts free of regard for conventional rules and practices
3. a person with artistic or literary interests who disregards conventional standards of behavior
this week's word was almost "iconoclast," but that held too many connotations of warlike, rebellious, and destructive behavior. "attack" was in nearly every definition, and i'm definitely not attacking anyone or anything. challenging? yes. scrutinizing? absolutely. attacking? never.
y'know, iGoddess was nominated as an entrant in the Battle of the Blogs, (PLEASE CLICK ON THE LINK AND VOTE FOR ME!!!) for which i am deeply honored. okay, okay, so i went to MySpace and posted a bulletin for my friends to nominate iGoddess. so sue me! i'm trying to increase traffic here so that more people can see that it's not all about venting and griping and being cynically hilarious about their day, whilst giving their life no more thought than, "this is what i did, this is what i thought about it. insert snarky comment here, the end." there's more to life than cynicism, fundamentalist materialism, and ego-centric american humor-for-the-lowest-common-denominator. so go vote for iGoddess and show those blind apocalypticians there's something better out there, and its name is pronoia!
what about beauty, truth, freedom, and love? what about finding that one thing you're absolutely passionate about, and taking up the flag and becoming a revolutionary freedom fighter? what about finding that one drummer that plays your beat, and marching to it? what about finding your inner Funk, about experiencing those things that grip you right in your solar plexus, or the base of your spine, or your ass chakra, and never let go of you until you have filled yourself with mind-altering and wildly romantic excitement until it just bursts out of every part of you?
(yes, insert obligatory fart joke here)
and no, i haven't died and been reincarnated as pollyanna. i'm not channeling the chipper and annoying spirit of gidget. and no, i wasn't melanie hamilton wilkes in a former life.
i'm talking about going to convention's table --filled with all the solid, heavy, fat-ridden and greasy foods of realism, materialism, egocentrism-- smiling at all the apocolypticians seated around it, and upending it with all your might. throw off the old ways of thinking that keep you mired in anxiety and fear and jaded cynicism! yes, laughing at fucktards is fun, and i indulge myself in the sport from time to time. but i also think about what they might actually bring to the world, i remember they're also manifestations of the Supreme Funk, and without them, we wouldn't be able to have genius and common sense. you can't have light without the dark, and you can't have the Funk without the fucked.
c'mon, beauty and truth fans. be fantastic, iconoclastic, bohemian bomastic revolutionary freedom fighters!
what you see is what you get.
you can't see what ain't there.
ever say these things? usually, these are people for whom fact and absolutes are the only reality. unfortunately, we have a character in christian fiction --doubting thomas-- who blows my whole point out of the water for many people. too many people are like doubting thomas in that they must see it, touch it, feel it to know it's real. how many homilies had i sat through as a roman catholic, listening to how much we are like doubting thomas, and how he's important for us as a reminder not to doubt the existence of god, especially since it's already been proven. why, just look at doubting thomas.
if that's not a beautifully subtle way of programming people to only see to believe --telling them not to do it only after planting the idea in their head that they should-- thereby leaving them entirely closed to any other reality or possibility other than what the church tells them is there, i don't know what is.
sometimes i weep for that, but for the most part, i try to teach myself --a little at a time-- to love them more than i love them. because, really, i could love them a whole lot more than i love them...
anyway, seeing is believing. what if it weren't so clear cut? what if our experience of the objective material realm we perceive with our five senses and measure with our instruments (thank you, mr. brezsny) was nothing more than a mass hallucination we all subconsciously agreed to have at the same time and call it "reality?"
"seeing is believing," my metaphorically pronoiac ass! that is nothing more than a snot-nosed, cynical little catch phrase people use to support the disguised religion of fundamentalist materialism: an arrogant assertion that the scientific method is the sole arbiter of the ultimate truth; an absolute certainty that the metaphors of science deserve to trump all other metaphors. scientism is an obsessive emotional investment in results that can only be perceived with the "five" senses, or repeated within tightly controlled experiments, or measured with instruments that have already been invented.
at least judaism and christianity have ten commandments. the zealots of scientism have just one: Thou shalt have no other realities but the One True Consensual Hallucination Known as Habitual Waking Consciousness! (the televisionary oracle , robert brezsny pg 113)
now, don't get me wrong. i like science. in fact, i love science! i like velcro and the internet, indoor plumbing, lava lamps, and my collection of stylish-yet-affordable shoes. but science isn't the only reality. there are other things out there we can't see yet, and will never see if we don't look for them. and, even if we do, they'll suddenly changed into something else. sometimes the very nature of a thing is changed simply by trying to quantify it, study it, measure it. the Prime Directive is a pipe dream.
they discovered this in quantum physics, with the EPR Paradox. kind of like schrodinger's cat, only far more serious and dramatic. you see, once upon a time these three really smart guys got together (not literally), einstein, podolsky, and rosen. and they said, " what if, once upon a time, there were these two particles flying in opposite directions at the exact same speed? since we don't know how fast they were moving, we have to use this nifty equation called a wave function to describe them. someone then measured the speed of one particle, however according to other rules knowing the speed of one means you instantly know the speed of the other, and therefore its state has been changed. you can't describe it with that nifty wave function thingamahoozie anymore. however, if affecting one particle affects the other, then this goes against the laws of relativity."
"this just can't happen!" shrieks einstein. "seeing is believing!" you see, for one particle to affect the other over distance, this would have to happen instantaneously (faster than the speed of light), but for that to happen, it would also have to travel backwards through time. so you can see why einstein just flipped his wig.
of course, you don't have to be a scientific brainiac to understand it. just read douglas adams: "there is a theory which states that if ever anybody discovers exactly what the universe is for and why it is here, it will instantly disappear and be replaced by something even more bizarre and inexplicable. there is another theory which states that this has already happened."
so what does all this mean, anyway? "c'mon, delena," you say. "how does all this --fundamentalist materialism, the mass hallucination of supposed "reality," quantum physics, and the hitchhiker's guide to the galaxy-- have to do with seeing is believing, killing armageddon, pronoia, and your loving war against the mass genocide of imagination?
only this, beauty and truth fans...
credendo vides. by believing, one sees.
what if there are worlds beyond the ken of your five mortal senses? what if there are colors, ideas, people and dreams and "magic" powers that are happening right in front of your face...and yet you cannot see them because you are not looking for them? because you don't believe? what if your very unbelief is affecting them right now? what if there are worlds and possibilities that are completely closed to us because we've closed our minds to them?
thought is power. thought is the power. thought created the universe. true, what the Phantasmagoric Succubus of Eternity thought was to play 'pop goes the weasel,' and The Word was "Wee!" but still. it was a thought! thoughts define our day, our individual realities! that chair you're sitting in? someone had a thought about how much more comfortable it would be to sit on something other than the ground, or a rock. that computer you're using? that mouse, the monitor by which you're able to navigate to and read iGoddess and thereby steer your own Divine Wow closer to your own inner Funk...someone had a really neat thought, a funky and totally crazy-whacked idea about a machine that could calculate thousands of equations a second. someone else had a thought about sharing information over vast distances, all from the comfort of their own laboratory (the original idea of the internet was so sciententists could share information), and from that thought came creation. those clothes you're wearing? someone thought, "man, i'm cold. i think i'll invent 'the shirt.'"
where did those thoughts come from? where does it all begin? the imagination! our imaginations are what fuel and move the multiverse! imagination, invention, entertainment, surprises, relationships, science, spirituality...it's all imagination! so you wake up on the wrong side of the bed? hey, your thoughts are crappy. and you're so busy having crappy thoughts, you don't pay attention to the "No Turn" sign, and get pulled over by a cop. you think bad thoughts and turn those thoughts into bad words and bad attitude to give to the cop, who then picks up your bad thoughts (via your bad mood, created by your bad thoughts) and slaps you with every traffic violation he can think of. you go to work, grumping and crabby and thinking even worse thoughts, snap at everyone, who then pick up your bad vibes and the aura in your workplace degenerates into one big clusterfuck. you go home, bark at your family, get heartburn, don't sleep well that night, wake up with really bad gas, and do it all over again. your thoughts have just created your reality. but seeing is believing, right? it is because it simply is.
but credendo vides!
i believe the universe is secretly conspiring to shower me with blessings. i wake up on the wrong side of the bed, so i think of my brother and sister on the other side of my bedroom door who will be glad to see me when i come out of my room. i take an extra ten minutes alone for myself because i'm feeling crabby. i get up, go pee, wash my hands and face, and when they see i don't look entirely like my lovely, sunny dee self, they ask what's wrong. i could turn my crabby, grouchy thoughts into crabby, grouchy words, but i'm being showered with blessings at that very moment.
"oh," i say, "i just didn't sleep well again, that's all. ngh. need tea. the tea is the life." *cc* chimes in with, "the tea is the life! yay tea! ommmm...." and this makes me chuckle. *mj* rubs my shoulder, showing me his affection and sympathy, maybe even encouragement. this makes me smile and, while i may be tired, i'm not crabby. my thoughts have defined my reality.
what if what you see really is what you get? how cool is that?
you have been brainwashed!
you are so freaking deluded that it's not even funny.
no, actually it's quite hilarious. iGoddess is my quest, a goal i strive every day to achieve by dying a little each day. it is a place to exist within myself. it's a state of being. it's a blog and a concept and a very real Thing. homer had his Odyssey and huck finn had his Adventures. i have my iGoddess, as i find the Funk and get down with my pronoiac self.
i remember this project i had my senior year of high school. we were given one of shakespeare's sonnets and told to a.) memorize it, b.) decipher it, c.) recite it for the class, and then d.) write a short presentation on its meaning. mine was sonnet 148. "ah me! what eyes hath love put in my head/ which have no correspondence with true sight!" i instantly fell in love with it. it's not one of his better known sonnets, filled with sarcasm and irony as he mocks the negativity and "well-seeing" majority who love to find fault with everything.
i chose to go close to last in this little project. oh my Funky Ya-Ya, if shakespeare were alive today, i think he'd flip to realize just how depressed and cynical and down on love my class thought he was! the thing of it is...they'd been lied to. they'd been brainwashed! they were so freaking deluded it wasn't even funny!
they were taught love was supposed to be this grand, heart-wrenching thing in which pain and suffering heartache were the templates used to measure it! angst and night sweats and performance art drama were the stuff of great loves. bah! the bard had it right, and instead of interpreting according to the lasting beauty and truth handed down through the ages, they put on their drama-colored glasses and interpreted according to contemporary values.
the poor, poor fools. i love them more than i love them.
being i was already in my own tempestuous (in a good way) affair with the bard myownself, i had to do him complete justice. i approached my sonnet with the idea of Love firmly affixed in my brain. "love is patient, love is kind, and envies no one. love is never boastful, nor conceited, nor rude nor selfish nor quick to take offense..."
in the end, i recited my sonnet speaking from my own heart, as if i'd written it myself. my interpretation came from the definition of love, not twisting the definition of love to fit my teenage angst and what i thought the sonnet meant. the result being, the entire class held its collective breath as i recited and breathed a quiet, "Ohh..." as i finished. my teacher smiled and said he had found a new favorite in the sonnets. i smiled, bowed, and took my seat. the next girl after me was kind of embarrassed to follow after my performance, and i asked her about it later. she said it was because here i'd captured the essence of love (no, i merely summed up what shakespeare already captured), and there she was sounding bitter and cynical. she was too young to sound so bitter!
so, too, do i approach life every single day. the universe is secretly conspiring to shower me with blessings, and yet we've all been deluded into thinking that life is primarily an ordeal! shame on the entertainment criminals of the phallocracy for deluding us! shame on us for letting them! instead of vomiting it back up at them, or converting to metaphorical entertainment veganism, or eating it and breaking it down into its base elements to then use in constructive and creative expressions of ecstatic love and funky happiness, we just let it pass right through us. garbage in, and garbage out. garbage out to our children, our spouses, our co-workers, and our poor bodies that have to work that much harder as they're stuck in the muck and quagmire of our negative delusions!
love it more than you love it, beauty and truth fans of the world! take it and break it up, break it down, like a beautiful flower bed uses the death of other organic matter to nourish itself and thus create beautiful flowers with crystalline colors and gorgeously seductive fragrances and blissfully orgasmic nectars for insects to eat and grow, which feeds the birds and reptiles, which feeds larger animals and plants, which in their turn feed yet larger animals and plants, which feed us, who feed yet larger animals out there in the wild.
'cause let's face it, much as humanity's self-absorbed and ego-centric, we're not the top of the food chain. just ask sharks, lions and tigers and bears, oh my. we're pretty damn tasty.
the universe gives you exactly what you need, exactly when you need it. you are exactly where you need to be, even if it means being on the menu of some african lion's lunch. and hell, if you really believe it, turn around and say, "hello!" to the nice kitty. extend your hand in greeting. you may just discover he was only chasing you 'cause you were running.
CAPRICORN (Dec. 22-Jan. 19): There are two basic approaches to manipulating people. In one, you manipulate people solely for your own good. In the other, you do it equally for your good and their good. In the second type, moreover, you deeply empathize with and even become more like the people you want to influence. You allow them to work their magic on you at least as much as you work your magic on them. Guess which kind I'm urging you to express right now, Capricorn.
okay, mr. brezsny, this is getting creepy.
i've been learning a lot about manipulation, control, fear, and surrender lately. the thing about codependence is, one and all, codependents came from dysfunctional homes. i hesitate to use the word "abusive," because people usually think of domestic violence, sexual abuse, or something of that nature. there are a lot of forms of abuse, i'm learning. and the root of codependence is equal parts avoiding the pain of those events down to the subconscious level, and making sure it never happens again.
of course, in order to "guarantee" it never happens again, control and manipulation are of the utmost importance. poor things. ironically, those coping and defense mechanisms learned in childhood to survive and adapt to those abusive conditions only serve as tools of spiraling destruction in adulthood. which leads to more avoidance of pain now in the present, along with more manipulation in order to control the environment and reality around them.
example: as i had little to no self-esteem (and never learned how to have it within myself), i want to be able to think nice thoughts about the kind of person i am. but i need other people to believe in me so that i can believe it. i use other people to gauge how good a person i think i am. which is very unhealthy, by the way, but you already knew that. anyway, in order to do that, i have to manipulate you so that i can influence and even change your mind about me --even though i don't even know that's what i'm really doing-- so that you can think what i want you to think about me and therefore i can believe it myself.
fucked up, huh? what breaks my heart is that healthy people don't have a clue what's really going on with a person suffering (and truly it is suffering) from codependence, and so not only do they have no compassion within them for the codependent, but they really treat the person like shit.
i have many personal accounts of that very example in action, and last summer is prime material of being treated like shit due to lack of compassion and understanding.
of course, i didn't know that's what was going on, but you'd think years of asking for help and saying, "i don't know how to get out of this, someone please help me," would have been a clue.
anyway, so yeah. y'know...every week i stand up, bare my breast, and let mr. brezsny take a shot right at my heart. he never misses. then again, it highlights exactly the ability i'm striving for --radical intimacy. so sayeth the oracle:
"i would like to quote now from the book that, with your help, i hope to write someday. it's called the dictionary of tricky love. please listen to the definition for the term 'radical intimacy.' ahem. radical intimacy is a virtuoso art that requires me and my freaky consort to master two seemingly contradictory skills: naming and nurturing the highest, holiest, best in each other, and thriving on the fact that our relationship will inevitably draw out and ask us to redeem each other's ugliest ignorance."
"so what you're saying is that the deeper you and i fall in love," i replied, "the more uninhibited we'll both feel about unveling our worst qualities?"
"it's a good thing," jumbler murmured, ..."because it will give us great ongoing practice at killing the apocalypse right down at the most microscopic levels."
"yes, i suppose that's true," i allowed. "each of us, even great masters like you and me, carry a little portion of the apocalypse within us."
"jung called our personal portion of the apocalypse the shadow," she said, taking the pen and drawing an oval on the sole of her left foot. within it, she printed "do not look at this" along with a picture of a single eye. "it's the unripe or wounded part of us," she continued. "it becomes evil only if it's repressed."
"so radical intimacy," i replied, curling into the fetal position to stare into the off-limits zone she'd just created, "i get to practice killing off the apocalypse in you, and vice versa? sort of a corollary to jesus' plea to love thy neighbor as thyself. 'love thy neighbor's shadow, and work with all thy tender adrenaline to summon its most constructive expressions.'"
"hmm, i like that. but i was thinking more about how i will kill off the apocalypse in myself because i have such a high regard and attraction to you. and you'll do vice versa."
"so like when i suddenly turn into a jerk because my flaming narcissism has demonically possessed me, i'll rise up with a banishing spell. 'begone demon, for i cannot allow you to trick me into hurting the feelings of my sweet groovemate.'"
"yes, exactly," she laughed. "you won't just naturally assume that the demon to be exorcised resides inside me. which in itself is so contrary to the style of the six billion apocalypticians on the planet that you might just shock armageddon into expiring right then and there."
"...as jung said, we tend to attribute to other people the very stuff we hate and fear most about ourselves."
(and here is what i love the best about this conversation...)
"radical intimacy means we kill the apocalypse at the source."
--robert brezsny, the televionary oracle (pgs 354, 355)
die, apocalypse, die! get behind me, demon! i swallow you down and break you up into your most basic elements so i may then use those materials to construct myself into my own funkiest groovemate, and thereby kill the apocalypse within me by transforming my shadow self into constructive expressions of the Divine Wow! i shall endeavor to find equality, equilibrium, and interdependence with my funkmates in order to allow them to manipulate me as much as i manipulate them, so that we all may work our magic on each other and manifest all of our potential!
so mote it be. amen. a-woman. ommmmm. and hallelujah.
for the existence of this force, once we perceive it, indicates with incontrovertible certainty that our human spiritual growth is of the utmost importance to something greater than ourselves. this "something" we call God or Creator (and which delena calls the Supreme Funk). the existence of grace is prime evidence not only of the reality of the Great and Jubalicious Wa-Hoo, but also of the reality that the Heroine With a Thousand Ruses’ will is devoted to the growth of the individual human spirit. what once seemed a fairy tale turns out to be reality.
we live our lives in the eye of the Wealthy Anarchist Burning Heaven to the Ground, and not at the periphery but at the center of Their vision. the human(e) race is in the midst of making an evolutionary leap, and whether we succeed or not in that leap is our personal responsibility. grace is the Funky Chicken With Soul's gift to all of creation in the Multiverse. through grace we know we are being welcomed, the Universe --aside from secretly conspiring to shower us with blessings-- is a stepping stone and has been laid out for us. we ourselves must step across it, one stone at a time.
grace indicates humanity to be in oneness with the universe. we are hardly lost in the universe; we are part of the whole and can never detach from it even if we wanted to. remember, we were there when the Multi-Versal Jiggy Snake sent the universe spinning into being with one excited "Wee!" one can learn religions, but to know spirituality is to feel it. it's a unique transition and transformation you feel when pain transforms you...and you let it.
some fight against it. how to surrender is the key. when you are at wit's end and you think the pain couldn't get any worse, one of two things happens. either you let it conquer you and die a little inside, or it happens. surrender is all about letting go of control. it's not easy, because everyone wants it and works very hard to achieve it. but once you do surrender, you can't go back. you feel very different, like all of a sudden the world around you is different. it is different.
that's what it means to find the Funk. when the Divine Wow within you connects with your true self, your own inner funk. you find the Funk, brah. find the Funk.
from the oxford-delena dictionary
1. a mixture or combination of diverse elements
2. what the thoughts running through delena's mind are. hmm...maybe not running. more like streaking
[streaking: (v. intr.) to run naked in public, especially as a prank]
so yeah, the thoughts are an amalgam of a lot of different things going on in my life right now. *mj*, *cc*, and i have pretty much settled in our new apartment and we're absolutely in love with it. there are only a few boxes left, but they're nothing majorly important, so if we had anyone come over now we wouldn't be embarrassed. the kitties have taken their rightful place on their little kitty thrones as sovereign rulers of all they survey.
i'm getting a bit more sleep than i used to, which is great. resting my head at the Shrine of Knowledgy Sci-Fantasy Goodness helps a lot, too. hell, just having my stuff is a great comfort to me, sitting amidst familiar things that let me know i'm me. and there's a lot less stress in the house. the apartment's a lot cleaner and neater, which really makes me glad. and relieved, honestly.
*ds*, *ns*, and *kas* have their own apartment now, with their own space, which i know is best for everyone. the three of us here at our apartment no longer feel ignored, disregarded, and disenfranchised in our own living space anymore. now that everyone's had a bit of time to calm down, we can get back to focusing on the friendship, which is the important thing. when people live together, there's a lot to be said for consideration of another person. i found myself not even wanting to be in the same room with *ds* the last few weeks before the move, and i knew it was a living habit clash, not a friendship clash, so i held my tongue.
but i think that's partly what helps *mj*, *cc*, and i. there's consideration all the way around, so no one's getting fed up with anyone else.
i've been doing a lot of reading, too. if you missed it before, i read the televisionary oracle by robert brezsny and very, very highly recommend it. it's largely the source for the tone and spirit of iGoddess, the Funk, and my silently explosive relationship with the Funky Ya-Ya recently. but even more recently (AKA night before last) i finished reading women who love too much and...just wow.
i devoured it in three days, i think. it's really got me thinking now, which is good. i've known for a few months now that i've been codependent and i've accepted it. the realization was the hard part. i almost killed myself, i was so horrified and disgusted. but then, i also realized that the horror and disgust was because i was hearing the bio-dad in my memories, watching his expressions, hearing his tone, seeing the way he'd shudder when talking about those "weak, disgusting codependent people," the way he'd be so derogatory. he didn't even speak of child molesters and serial killers with a fraction as much revulsion as he would when talking about codependents and abandonment issues and insecurity.
no wonder i buried it as deep as i did, to the point of not even knowing it was there, either consciously or subconsciously. when i realized something might possibly be wrong, it was literally like a newsflash. it was long after my summer of hell, long after a fight where i launched myself onto someone and nearly ripped out his eyeballs, and found myself facedown in the gravel, screaming and sobbing and wishing i would die. i almost did it, too, with trazodone and foxglove.
that was the darkest night of my life.
i went to my lovely and understanding, comforting parents instead, though. coming to them that sunday afternoon felt like i've always imagined having loving parents would feel like. all i have to do is think of them, and i get that same warmth spreading from my heart outwards, and i can't help it. i can't help smiling. not that i try, mind you.
anyway, on that horrible, horrible night, a tiny voice stirred. "i think something needs to change," it said in a very, very small voice. too small to be heard, and almost too small to be felt. "because this isn't working." and then...something inside me rubbed the fairy dust out of the corners of its eyes, yawned a great, tremendous yawn after a lifelong sleep and took a look around. it was too quiet, too subtle to be heard over the shriek of my depression, but it's what drove me to call my parents and ask for help.
so since then, i've been doing a lot of things, but most importantly i've been educating myself on codependence. looking more closely at it, i'm beginning to wonder if i'm even really bipolar at all like the shrinks said. the women in these books i'm reading sound so much like me, from early childhood to adolescence, to stupid relationship after stupid relationship. their behavior, the symptoms, are identical to my own behavior...things i truly and honestly believed were one thing, but subconsciously were another.
the people who hate and rejected me were completely oblivious, and they were wrong to condemn me, but now i can truly see that they were detrimental to me anyway and it's very, very good they're gone. i can feel relieved about it now, and stop hurting so much.
but...the outbursts, the stress, the rollercoaster emotions, even the stress and anxiety and hallucinations...all of it looks more like codependence. a disease of the mind and heart, not a chemical imbalance to be alchemically rectified with no regard to the turmoil in my soul. no thought for the injured child delena still terrified of, dehumanized by, and warped from life with her bio-parents.
and take into consideration lately it's just been life with us in our apartment and visiting the parents for sunday dinners, i haven't needed my tinctures at all. at all. there's still stress, and insomnia's still driving me crazy (hence the blog entry at 2 in the a.m.), but i'm more physically and mentally active than ever, there's still stress, and *cc* and i go out just about every day on some quest or other. and yet...no agoraphobia, no depressions, no aggrivation, no withdrawing, no twitchy tension. that's saying something.
it's so totally saying something. i think i'm finally --finally!-- on the right path to figuring myself out, and healing. i was talking to dizzy about it earlier tonight, actually. among a great many things, she asked if the Funk was really coming through in my life and that she could tell i'm in a much better place than ever before. and since she's been with all the incarnations of iGoddess since 2002, she knows what she's talking about!
so yes, the Funk's really coming through in my life. me, and the Orgasmic Funk.
|Your Brain is Purple|
Of all the brain types, yours is the most idealistic.
You tend to think wild, amazing thoughts. Your dreams and fantasies are intense.
Your thoughts are creative, inventive, and without boundaries.
You tend to spend a lot of time thinking of fictional people and places - or a very different life for yourself.
so...then i changed my answer, and got this other result. again, not quite surprising, because i can do this, too.
|Your Brain is Green|
Of all the brain types, yours has the most balance.
You are able to see all sides to most problems and are a good problem solver.
You need time to work out your thoughts, but you don't get stuck in bad thinking patterns.
You tend to spend a lot of time thinking about the future, philosophy, and relationships (both personal and intellectual).
just imagine: a creative, inventive, idealistic problem solver who can see all sides of the situation. a balanced, objective, practical intellectual with an intense imagination that knows no boundaries.
hehe...there are some days i just love looking in the mirror!
ah, denial is a beautiful thing.
so thinking about my own past crushes just makes me uncomfortable. i just got finished reading women who love too much by robin norwood, so i've already done a lot of pondering and reflecting on past crushes, thanks. on the other hand, as i've gotten older i've heard a lot more of people who had crushes on me. and, y'know, i never noticed. never even realized anyone was walking around with feelings like that. and for me!
and flirting! i never realize when someone's flirting with me. i just figure they're being polite and gentlemanly, so i'm polite and ladylike right back. i think it goes back to my non-existant self-esteem once upon a time. it just never occurs to me anyone could look at me that way. kind of like gravity, you just take it for granted and never think about it. it just Is. well, except for when you accidentally drop something and say to yourself, "yup! gravity still works. just checking."
not that i'm saying i still have non-existant self-esteem, just that i'm still in the habit of being totally oblivious to romantic affection.
it's like that time i was out with the parents and *cc*, and we went to this mexican restaurant they knew. our server was totally blown away by the fact he tried to trip me up speaking in spanish and i spoke it right back. his eyes went wide, everyone laughed, and i said, "gotcha!" he was really nice, though. i was uncomfortable with the conversation i kept trying to politely end and he kept trying to revive. *cc* finally saved me by pulling me outside into the sparkling, frosty night. a good girl speaks when spoken to, right?
oi vey, i still have a ways to go.
i blinked, waiting for my dad to unlock the jeep. "...was he flirting?"
"DUH!" came the universal reply, practically in 7.1 digital surround.
see? accidentally drop something, seeing if gravity still works. "oh." blink, blink. "just checking."
read more crushes!
i have spoken.
apologies for no post yesterday. usually, fridays are reserved for "fucktard of the week," however i've come to realize that, while fun, making fun of and griping about the fucktards of the world just isn't conducive to pronoia and finding the funk. i was playing with the idea of having "funktard of the week," but that still doesn't quite do it for me. and in my bible, the televisionary oracle, every other chapter is a live broadcast direct from the drivetime which, if you haven't read anything of mr. brezsny's (and i wholeheartedly suggest you do!) then it won't make much sense. sometimes there are suggested projects, which i skipped this time around because i was devouring the book with all the voracious ecstacy i usually reserve for ice cream.
poor lactose-intolerant fool that i am...
but i didn't want to turn iGoddess into self-congratulatory bunk. this is about finding the funk! it's about taking that swig of mystical habanero juice that clears out the mystical sinuses. it's about playing poker with the Gambler With A Soul and losing everything, so you can then be blessed with everything. it's about a good poke in the third eye, and playing 'pop goes the weasel' with the Multi-Versal Jiggy Snake.
because remember: when things go BOOM! the Jiggy Snake goes "Wee!"
i need to find something appropriately iGoddess and funky enough to replace my fucktard fridays. suggestions are welcome! if there's anything my readers want to see more of, i'm always open to ideas and suggestions. i have three subscribers to my live feed. we need that number to grow! spread iGoddess far and wide! it's about finding your inner funk, about that moment of bliss when the Divine Wow, that Conscious and Psychedelic Mushroom Cloud in the Middle of Your Brain, connects with your inner funk.
yeah, i know you're gonna say i'm late with my new year's "resolution." HA!
again, i say unto you, "HA!" valentine's day is the perfect day to come out with my resolution.
i wanted to wait until a few weeks had gone by before i posted anything, because i wanted to show that i've been keeping my resolution. by now, over a quarter of us out there have already dropped the resolution, and by next month over half will have. by the end of the year, the number of people who can smile and say they kept their resolution will be a measley 20 percent.
now, i know i just said i had a resolution, but i lied. i made a new year's REVOLUTION.
since i first discovered boys (aka "time out of mind") i've been looking and hunting and manipulating and sacrificing and conjuring and wrangling up the perfect mate. i reached wild success in failing miserably. i achieved phenominal success in encountering a great many examples of what the perfect mate wasn't. i blew my own mind with the success i had in discovering the exact ways i did not deserve to be treated.
go me! WOO! learning experience is muy bueno!
so then...i discovered the secret to success in my hunt for locating the perfect mate...
and all of them complimentary from the televisionary oracle! while standing in a mud puddle and hugging myself, i dissolved a four-leaf clover on my tongue and visualized myself riding piggyback on the one i love.
i drew a picture of copulating hummingbirds on a dollar bill and taped it to a road sign on a street with a sexy name.
then i stood on top of a mobile home wearing all red clothes, and hurled a chunk of stolen meteorite as far as i could while shouting out the name of my beloved.
then i built a blazing fire, stripped naked, smeared war paint on my body in the style of native american warriors, shook my snake tooth rattle and waved my mummified chicken foot over my head, hopped on one foot, and balanced a jello cake on my head.
...'kay, no, not really.
what i did do was forget all about trying to glom on to my perfect mate and instead decided to make myself into the perfect mate. this year, i wine and dine me and make me my perfect lover and mate.
who cares if i find anyone? i want to be my perfect mate, and it all comes down to two qualities: beauty, and truth.
and not just those painful and languishing truths that a person has to realize before true transformation can occur, but those viciously ecstatic truths that make you look up and say to the Sly Universal Virus With A Wicked Sense of Humor, "you so rock!"
and beauty! beauty in everything and everywhere! beautiful body, beautiful smile, beautiful soul, beautiful vulnerability, beautiful strength, beautiful temper, beautiful health, beautiful fallibilities, beautiful friendships, beautiful intimacy, beautiful projects, beautiful failures, beautiful novels (oh, by the Funky Ya-Ya, i hope so!).
beauty! beauty! rah rah rah! and truth!
my diet so far has been fabulous. every morning i run about 40 minutes on the elliptical machine, just close my eyes and meditate...and just go. it's over before i can completely finish my dreams. a lot of my best thinking is done there, too, and channeling my anger and frustrations into the task of breaking them down into their useful base particles so i can turn them into something better and more useful. then i sculpt my body with windsor-pilates, and while my ass and abs cry and throw curses at me, i smile and tell them i love them.
then i exercise my brain and my soul. y'know, that great, huge, vast thing that was there when the Jiggy Snake invented 'pop goes the weasel' and which is stuffed inside this teenie, finite, crude matter vehicle i'm using this trip around on planet earth. i'm reading a few select books, but a fine sculptor doesn't need a vast array of tools. michelangelo had a hammer and chisel, and yet from poor quality marble he coaxed out David.
of course, having been to massage school, david is a nightmare of bad posture, weak ankles, and uneven hips, but that's totally beside the point.
with these few tools, i'm sculpting my brain, psyche, soul, and past into a phenominal, phantasmagoric, garishly elegant present that's gonna rock me into oneness with the Heroine With a Thousand Ruses.
it's a new year's revolution, baby!
this disturbs me. it's like when i was in chemistry or trigonometry and my professors would check my work, but they wouldn't tell me where i was wrong in my calculations, estimations, or formulae. they would simply glance at my work and say, "you have an error," and hand back the page. if they were feeling benevolent, they would tell me which problem had the error. except for mr. shenton in chem. he was always kind enough to let us know which problem it was, and where our error originated.
"use the mole house," he would say, or, "you're forgetting about ions. why can you eat a banana and drink a glass of water, and not blow up?" because everyone knows that K + H2O = BOOM!
but when those particular professors came around that glanced at the paper and said, "you have an error," i was always filled with a helpless sort of desperation and dismay. well, where is the error? it could be anything from getting the date wrong at the top of my paper to a train wreck of a quadriatic formula. or hell, if i was really screwed up, i mistakenly did the wrong problems, and so my "error" was that i didn't do the proper assignment.
however, i have at least some clue of where to look. it's one of "the basic facts of [my] life." so it's something like misspelling my name, or getting the date wrong at the top of my paper. i can only figure that, in my quest for better understanding pronoia and the televisionary oracle, the Supreme Funk, and my connection to the multi-verse, i'm getting so carried away with it i'm forgetting some of the basics.
*gasp!* maybe i'm forgetting to wear my slippers!
2. of similar idea of a doppleganger, yet the likeness is not in body but in soul
in the year we've known each other, *cc* and i have come to an entertaining realization: we're not just adopted sisters, we're doppleseele. over on her blog, she calls me her "Mexi Me" since that's pretty much what i am. she's my film negative -- light where i'm dark, but other than that identical. "between us," we joke, "we have a whole brain!"
it's hilarious, and sometimes kinda creepy. one of us will be thinking, and the other will invariably open our mouths and say exactly what the other was thinking. or a song will be stuck in one of our heads, and for some reason suddenly the other one's singing it because it's now stuck in their head, too.
like today. we both woke up pathetically sluggish and totally suffering from a lack of motivation. neither of us had slept well which, while common for me, isn't so common for her. but i was still hungover from the sleeping pill i took in addition to being exhausted because insomnia still made me its bitch.
so we get out to run our errands a little bit later than yesterday, but we get everything. of course, with lots of meandering and no attention span whatsoever. if it was shiny or colorful and moving, it had us at its mercy. "wow, man," i said, standing there staring at a wide screen tv showing a massive number of teenie fish swimming in a coral reef. "it's so...colorful."
"yeah...." she said.
blink. blinkblink. stand there. stare. "wow," i said again, same dazed-and-confused tone, "we are so on it today."
"yeah..." she said.
of course, this was after missing our exit on the 5 south and having to make yet another U-turn. (yeah, yesterday was Flip a Bitch Day for us...) i laughed and said, "that's it. the next time we have a day like this, where we're just stupid from the moment we get up, we're cancelling all our plans and staying indoors because we're too stupid to drive!"
she laughed, fiddling with her braid like she does when she's thinking (or irritated). "yeah, too stupid to be seen. too stupid to be in public. just stay inside and spare everyone our stupidity!"
we're laughing at ourselves, of course, because today --on top of Flip a Bitch Day yesterday-- was just one of those days. i readjust my sunglasses and start singing, deepening my voice like that song i'm too sexy. i don't even get through my "i'm," in my ditty before she's chiming in with the exact same words. we're on the same frequency, i tell you...
"i'm. too stupid for my car. too stupid for my car, i'm just too stupid!"
so we're laughing at our time in the World of BrainFart. and on our way out of costco, we both start singing, to the tune of "i feel pretty" from west side story. "we're so stupid!" i sing. "oh, so stupid! we are stupid, and 'tarded, and...and...hey, what fits?"
"...so stupid, and 'tarded, and DUMB!" she picks up, without missing a bit. of course, people are looking at us and trying to pretend we're not there, and it's even funnier. i've got the cart, and i'm trying to think of more lyrics to amuse our simple minds, when she picks up the very line i was thinking.
"see those stupid girls in the mirror there!"
i laugh. "what fucktards, where?"
"who can those retarded girls be...?"
hey, small minds, small thrills. it was just "one of those days."
1. a hybridazation of two words: ambivalence, and befuddled
2. the exact state of being in which delena exists today, due to the point in a particular friendship cycle in which she finds herself
1. the co-existence within an individual caused by a simultaneous desire to say or do two opposite or conflicting things.
1. perplexed by many conflicting situations or statements; to be filled with bewilderment
i find myself yet again in this place with greggo, and i find myself filled with the same mix of bewilderment and ambivalence. he's my best friend, and he's been a rather good friend for the (holy crap!) eight years we've known each other. and yet, every time i say, "greggo, honey, she's treating you like crap and you deserve so much better than that," i'm always smacked with "delena, sometimes i get the feeling you don't understand me."
he's lucky i don't live right next door, because if i read those emails and he did live next door, he'd be smacked so silly by the time i got done with him, he'd be walking on his hands and wearing his hat on his ass.
no, i understand him too well. i see so much of one of the versions of the old me whenever i think of him. richard bach once said "argue for your limitations and, sure enough, they're yours." but i can't make him see it. we go through this same cycle.
1. i tell him what's up
2. he bites my hand, insults me, and tells me i don't get it
3. i give him a verbal bitch slap and tell him to wake the fuck up
4. he bites my hand again, harder, and throws a tantrum
5. i sigh and say whatever. after all, you can lead a horse to water, but you can't make him drink. even if you siphon out the other end.
6. he pretends it never happened
7. i focus on things worth my time
8. he comes back later and says, "wow, dee, i think you were right."
9. he thinks a bit, then says, "no, i know you were right. wow, sorry i was such an ass earlier."
of course, trying to explain to him this cycle --so we can cut the crap and just move on to steps 7-9-- is hopeless. i've tried so many times, in so many different ways, i'm almost at a loss. of course, how to help him see that he's worth so much more than he's putting up with right now? he keeps saying, "but delena, i'm not you, i will never be you, i'm just little me," and all i can do is close my eyes and envision myself slapping the shit out of him because i can't do it in real life.
i see the treasure in the trash, the jewel in the junk food, the gold in the lead, and that's why i'm still his friend and still give him 100% of me, and my love and my effort. but i'm getting tired again. he makes these little leaps of progress so he can avoid making some of the real growth, the funkywild freedom fighter kind. and he keeps saying that he's not like me, but he is! dear gods in heaven, he is!
we all are! every single one of us is a part of every single one of us! and no, i'm not spouting free-love-everyone happy-happy-joy-joy hippie bullshit. it's the Divine Wow-honest truth! we are shining beings! heavenly bodies! angels on earth! second-generation star stuff come alive! once upon a time there was this bitty little speck of matter bobbing around in nothing, and the MultiVersal Jiggy Snake opened its great big eyes, yawned, and decided to play 'pop goes the weasel' with that bitty bit of matter. so it wound up its great big tail and smacked it. and that speck of matter went "BOOM!" and the Jiggy Snake went, "Wee!" and it was good.
and we floated around the known universe, hung out as super-heated gases awhile. then we got together and threw a huge, bangin' funky party and called ourselves stars. then one day, we decided the party was over, and as stars we went "BOOM!" and the Jiggy Snake went, "Wee!"
then we looked at each other, star stuff going nova. "hey," we said, "let's say we get together and have lunch in about sixty billion years?"
"yeah, meet you there."
and it was good.
i don't get it. after having played 'pop goes the weasel' with the Supreme Funk Itsownself, and having played around as planets and stars and comets, how can anyone say that they deserve to settle for anything less than what an angel-come-to-earth deserves? of course, if my greggo truly believes he deserves to be used as a doormat and friend-of-convenience, as well as an extension of a cold fish of a dead-inside wife who only keeps him around so she can ignore her own feelings of insecure inadequacy, then who am i to argue? i must love the idea of him like that, and i must love it more than i love it. i must celebrate it.
that might take some getting used to.
of course, if he truly believes that, then shouldn't he be celebrating it? shouldn't it be making him happy and funky and "that much closer" to the Divine Wow? a little growth every day, because a little growth into something new means a little death to something old. i strive to die a little every day, because countless little deaths is the secret to neutralizing the Great Anihilation that awaits those who don't die.
i dunno. maybe this point of view is too much for greggo right now. i just hope he wakes up soon, because if he doesn't, then that means i will wake up. i will wake up to the realization that our friendship is nothing more than a dry streambed of potential and growth, and we all know what delena does with relationships that are dried up. i don't want to get up and walk away so i can focus on those relationships that are worth my time and caliber, but i will if i have to. and i'll chalk it up to one more little death, and celebrate it because death means growth!
c'mon, greggo, i pray. c'mon and die so you can live.
y'know, i have my dinner beginning its transmutation on the stove, mystically blending the powers of fire and herbs and balsamic vinegar in the bubbling cauldron of my kitchen divinity as it journeys from a motley assortment of ingredients, through simmering meditation in the semi-covered dark, into the crowned and blazing glory that will be my marinara sauce.
satori often comes to me with my wooden spoon of culinary wisdom in hand, sweating in the breath of my food as it steams on my face and spatters on my fingers. hot grease leaping from the pan to baptize my exposed flesh in burning revelation often sends me into states of being where, in that sizzling pop of an instant, i embody the 10th dimension and pain is only a transitory vehicle.
and sometimes boiling water is just boiling water.
as i stood there, blending the rapidly softening tomato paste into the vinegar, i flashed forward in time to a conversation that i may have in one of many possible futures. i was warding off a curious and peckish *ds* as she stood hunched over, one hand on the open refridgerator door, hunting down some nukable gnoshies to quiet her stomach and appease her plummeting blood sugar levels.
"that's mine," i say, when she holds up the sacred marinara, enshrined in medium-sized plexiware with a navy blue seal-ready lid.
"oh," she says, disappointment a momentary ripple across her face. the sacred marinara falls a little bit from its place on high in her hands. "mind if i have some?"
i think about it a moment. "no," i finally say. "you can find something else. it's mine."
i know her well enough to know she's not too sure about herself after that response, and she's replacing the sacred marinara in its hallowed spot of refridgerated sanctuary with a hint of trepidation and discomfort. she's wondering if she recently did something wrong to irritate me, which was furthest from the truth, and i wonder how i can ease her discomfort without waffling and apologizing for being declarative, like i usually do. the hard point in my tone came from elsewhere. however, having only extremely recently awakened to the knowledge that i, too, can and may and have every right to say "no," claim what's mine, and declare what i want in an unselfish tone of voice, i haven't yet mastered schooling my tone. the hard point comes from my still-present fear i will be scolded and abused for being defiant, for trying to claim something as my own.
"is there any reason why not?" she finally asks.
inwardly, i praise her diplomatic abilities and bravery, having always admired them as things i want to learn and foster within myself. so i think of a response that is worthy of her own strength. i take a breath and hold it. my lips scrunch to one side like they always do when i'm trying to think of a way to say something that might possibly be hurtful in a way that won't end up being hurtful. i am here to create truth and beauty, not grief and pain.
"i would," i finally say, my tone expressing willingness yet also regret, "except you might feel guilty by what i say."
and right then, as the tomato paste and vinegar blend into one seamless whole with the rest of the sauce and thereby begin the transmutation process, i realize what my explanation would have been, and how i've been doing something similar on a larger scale all my life.
had the vision of that possible future continued, *ds* would have told me she would have liked to hear my explanation anyway, and i would have told her that for the last week i've been restless and pacing with a hunger just bordering on surly. the house of dragons' rest has come to be able to gauge my hunger by my mood. they've come to learn that sleep, nourishment, and stress all affect the pH levels of my transitory chemical states, and have come to recognize the subtle differences in my behavior that differentiate lack of sleep from skipping a meal from emotional distress.
and for that i bless them a thousand times each sunrise.
i had believed, on a subconscious level, that even though the house of dragons' rest is splitting into two dens, we are still one horde. the after-work rituals of feasting together with *ds* and *kas* were things i enjoyed and looked forward to, and had thought would continue. i have fallen asleep waiting for them to come home, and neglected to sate my own appetite when my stomach called for supper in the hopes i would be able to fill it in the presence of those other members of my horde. but nobody's home, ingredients are in the cupboard, and i'm tired of waiting. i decided to make spaghetti and just fucking eat.
so, too, have i waited on the sidelines, perpetually on the edge of just-hungry-and-tired-enough to aggrivate the crumbly precipice of sanity, as i wait oh so patiently to be included. my heart has been sleep-deprived, and my soul has been malnourished. i've endured the conditional love of a neurotic and perfectionist woman whose resentment-turned-hatred against the phallocracy that stole her power and independence was so corrupted she misdirected those feelings at her children as she played the role of eternal victim; the love/hate abuse-glory of a misogynist so poisoned by his own forefathers' demons he projected their --and now his-- poison onto his female offspring; the conditional fascination of two women who saw me not as a woman, but as a child and dust of the earth to mold into their own image and, if i did not parrot my lines back to them perfectly, if i did not believe them unquestioningly, and if i did not play my role as dancing sycophant around their selfmade thrones parodying the Queen of Heaven, i was cast out into the lands east of Nod (not that I have anything against Nod...); the love and guidance of a man so bloated by the honor and admiration and awe that so many other people give him, he cannot help but believe it himself and deride anyone who will not leap when he says 'frog'; the love-scorn of a boy i loved too much, who pretended i was nothing when i suffered in my darkest hour; men who did not honor my worth and who stepped on my potential; rapists; trusted neighbor-turned-molester.
and i must love them more than i love them. i must swoon with ecstatic and dionysian, jubilacious lust that sets my hair on fire, opens my third eye, and flips my foremothers ass over teakettle in their graves. if the only way to slaughter the apocalypse, to reverse the genocide of the imagination spoonfed to us live from the entertainment criminals of the phallocracy, is through all those people who hated and hurt me...and if the only way to win the war through them is with stupendous kali love and epicine bliss for them, then so be it.
but that's a story for another time.
however, this isn't a "oh tragedy! nobody loves me, everybody hates me, i guess i'll go eat worms" kind of post. there ain't no stinkin' self-pity at iGoddess! i have two loving and hilarious and unconditional parents not forty miles from me who give me --freely!-- those things in my heart i've always needed; i have the house of dragons' rest, who are friends and rookery siblings altogether; i have my younger siblings, who are always together with me no matter how far away we are physically; i even have dear and beloved friends who, from mere hundreds of miles to thousands, to on the other side of the planet, care enough to see me for what i really am and put in that little extra effort it takes to stay connected. it's there.
i'm just going to fucking eat. and i say that with the most salacious of grins.
hello baden-wurttemburg, germany! i love you more than i love you!
hello park river, north dakota! your laughter is my music!
hello hainan, china! the Divine Wow within me loves the Supreme Funk within you!
hello calgary, alberta! i remember you when our molecules danced next to each other before the Big Bang bonged!
hello trafford, united kingdom! smile --the Universe is waiting for you to share your divine secrets!
hello witchita, kansas! every breath you take is a beautiful explosion of the Universe laughing orgasmically!
hello palo alto, california! (i used to live in redwood city, imagine that.) you live in the awesomest state in the country; you rock!
you're all beautiful! whether you call the supreme being God, Allah, or the Divine Spark, remember what iGoddess is all about: beauty, truth, and that moment when the Divine Wow within you connects with your inner funk.
we've come a long way baby, huh?
it started out as "haven," because it was the only place where i could express myself completely free of any criticism. brainwashed the good little mexican daughter that i was, i was terminally nice so who was i to vent even a little bit? except on my blog. then i had to move the blog because the site i was using was shutting down, and over at blogdrive.com "haven" became "musings." still same purpose, though. lo and behold, stupid drama followed me. i even stopped speaking to my older sister because she read an entry at "musings" and picked a fight with me. it happened again last summer, when someone read an entry titled "message in a bottle" (the song was stuck in my head) and invited me to dinner, saying he wanted to "make sure i was all right," when instead what he wanted to do was corner me and deride me. and he had the audacity to call me a liar!
hence the birth of the expression, fucktards of the world. he definitely earned himself that title.
so i tore down both "haven" and "musings," and hunkered down at myspace.com for a while. with the exodus to blogger, though, and because i am a huge fan and regular lurker over at Snark Central and Nelson Literary Agency, i kept wanting to comment but felt lame having to be "Anonymous" because i didn't have a blogger account. so i signed up and lo, it was good.
and while the face of my blog has evolved drastically into what is now iGoddess, the core sentiment remains the same. it's haven for my musings, where i can say what i need to, exactly how i need to, and my feelings, beliefs, and opinions remain my own, expressed in the ribbons and shiny foil packaging that is my point of view and my truth. if you don't like it, don't read it, but i'm sure my many regulars could tell you that it's worth it to stick around.
now, for most of the citizens of the blogosphere, i've just posted a big, huge "duh!" but believe me, there are some who think because they read a blog, they then have the right to invade the blogger's privacy and hold them accountable because they found it "offensive." that's about as ri-cockulous as those idiots on capitol hill who keep forgetting that the 1st amendment is alive and well, and still on the bill of rights last time i checked. i just feel obligated to make my semi-annual post about it because, as i get more readers (and as this blog is in the #1 slot at Google for "iGoddess!" WOO!) i'm inevitably going to run into someone who's a member of my former life. i can take it and run with it, but i'm not shutting up.
if anything, i'll sick the elite team of tyrannosaur-riding ninja monkeys on them, give 'em a good spritz of febreeze. BE HAPPY! if the only way to kill the apocalypse is to love the apocalypse, then i'll learn to love everyone more than i love them. even my ego-centric older sister, and the fucktards of the world!