do you see the little counter i have on the top right hand corner of this blog? as i write this, it has one day and some hours left to go until dee leaves portland. while i've known that i was remaining here in portland for quite some time now, i decided to keep it up just as another little reminder that i'm not leaving.
i woke up this morning and realized that, had plans remained unchanged, tomorrow would have been my last day at my home salon, and my second-to last day in portland, period. i woke somewhat like any other day. my room is a swaying metropolis of towers made of boxes, with the odd sock or stray knick-knack that managed to escape a box. or something else that completely defied categorization and ergo remains yet unpacked.
the autumn rain kept me awake: that wet patter of fat droplets on the pavement outside, the rustlewhisperpat of water falling on leaves. in my half-waked state, my mind raced with thoughts ranging from listening to the kitties play, to moving plans, to odd things laced with dreams.
autumn rain always brings memories of when i first came to the pacific northwest, and again when i came to portland. i hated the cold then, the bitter dampness that chilled beyond the bone. sometimes it makes me think of arranged marriages, how love grows between strangers borne of familiarity and the passage of years.
deep and abiding love. i've never felt that for a place before. my feelings for portland autumns and winters have so completely changed from what they once were. the cold and the wet and the rain and the dark are part of what make portland so beautiful...
i worked at the tigard shop again today. it's always wonderful, day after day, working in a place where everyone is genuinely excited and happy to see me. i know it will die soon, but right now i never tire of hearing people say how glad they are i'm not leaving. and i know i'm excited to be having *m* here soon, with me. i know they're not his friends --yet-- but i'm looking forward to introducing my friends to him. i can't wait to have a kitchen, and give my friends and my family the warmth and bounty of my hearth.
this morning, before work, i signed papers on my new lease. i have a new apartment! and i did it all on my own, too, which is something i've never done before. i've always gone into a new apartment with roomates, all of our merit pooled together. this was me. true, *m* and i will live there together, but as he's not coming until the middle of next month, i had to secure it alone.
and i did.
and i feel something i don't know that i've ever felt before. it's a protectiveness and solid...i don't know. it's just a solid something that i feel beneath my breastbone. i feel something quite similar, actually, whenever i think of li'l *c* sick or in danger. my mother protectiveness comes to the fore, the driving need to protect and care for my young. it's almost the same. my haven. my hearth. my sacred space carrying all the potential to be everything i wish it to be.
i can finally --finally-- be entirely true Delena of the Funkywild i've yearned to be. i am mistress of my own haven, now. i am Lady of the House.
the House of Funk.
i'm not one voice of many, anymore. i see my role as i never did when i was married. i was so blind, then. perhaps it's way too philosophical, or even spiritual for the tone of this blog, but now i will be an authority. and in a pair, i will be the voice of Goddess, as *m* will be the voice of God.
a sobering thought.
have i filled my role well? so far, with the stress and tension and raw emotions lately, i would say i've failed rather fantastically. yet another sobering thought. and i know i can be wildly and astoundingly spiteful a lot of the time, as well as unrelenting when i "know" i'm right. and i'm stubborn enough and smart enough to talk circles around the majority of people until i've argued myself in a circle and ended up right where i began. i'm very good at it, but while it has its useful places, in a relationship is not one of them.
i suppose this is what it means to be ready to be in a relationship (see blog entry entitled ">.<"). now it's time to find out if i have the love, compassion, and courage to turn the other cheek to someone who has the power to hurt me in ways that could pale in comparison to the bio-dad. all my life, in refusing to let anyone hurt me that way again, i've been closed inside, and spiteful, and dangerously defensive, and secretive, and quick to retaliate, and a hundred other things that were only meant to protect me.
and protect me they did, but it cost me many, many friends. i just wasn't ready to be close, to share myself and discover the miraculous grace in vulnerability.
none of those things, however, are sympathetic and compassionate and merciful. none of those things are conducive to learning to live within the multiverse of another person's soul. the delicate balance comes of turning the other cheek and not becoming a door mat. i suppose the difference is found within, from an unshakable sense of authority and confidence in one's own humanity. in the definition of self that is not written by any other hand save one's own.
and while living well and rightly is quite the responsibility, what with realizing my role as representative of Goddess in my pairing, it's absolutely meaningless without the ecstatically psychedelic and funktastic, wild love for all things mundane. growing in love from my daily practice in vulnerability and compassion will get me absolutely nowhere if i forget about the sacred in each passing moment.
y'know, the Funk in the NOW!
9.30.2007
9.28.2007
rock! Rock! ROCK ON!!!
i found this over on mich's blog, and i just had to. and DUDE!! i'm only, like, my favorite-est superheroine of all time!!! i'm buffy! i swear, i watch the entire series, like, three times a year. *mj* calls it "our tri-annual buff-a-thon." lol
and then i saw this one and had to give it a try. and what it said about me just made me feel so warm and fuzzy, and it's actually quite spot-on, if i do say so myself. and others have told me very much the same thing...
| You Are Buffy the Vampire Slayer |
 "We saved the world. I say we have to party." |
and then i saw this one and had to give it a try. and what it said about me just made me feel so warm and fuzzy, and it's actually quite spot-on, if i do say so myself. and others have told me very much the same thing...
| Your Seduction Style: Au Natural |
 You rank up there with your seduction skills, though you might not know it. That's because you're a natural at seduction. You don't realize your power! The root of your natural seduction power: your innocence and optimism. You're the type of person who happily plays around and creates a unique little world. Little do you know that your personal paradise is so appealing that it sucks people in. You find joy in everything - so is it any surprise that people find joy in you? You bring back the inner child in everyone you meet with your sincere and spontaneous ways. Your childlike (but not childish) behavior also inspires others to care for you. As a result, those whom you befriend and date tend to be incredibly loyal to you. |
9.27.2007
>.<*
i don't know why i'm tempted here to say relationships are stupid, but...well...relationships are stupid.
and i'm not just talking romantic relationships, either. i'm talking about any relationship that any two people share. and even within a family relationship, you have to take each pairing, because nobody reacts the same way to everyone. although i must say that families hold a little advantage. for instance, it wasn't until *t* came up to visit me this summer that the house of dragons' rest were able to look at me with a lot more comprehension in their eyes and say to me, "now i see where you get it."
with the rest of everyone, when you meet someone, there's a multiverse of history and culture, mores and belief structures, subconscious reactions and individual nature all waiting beneath the surface of a smile and friendly demeanor. some things about a person are malleable, able to be influenced. others are hard-wired. some people are self-aware enough to be aware of the hard-wiring. some choose to work to install a completely new program. some like it the way it is. some accept that it simply Is What Is. most aren't that self-aware.
when two people agree to relate to one another, a subtle dance ensues as they subconsciously figure out how much they will relate together. how deeply. for how long. and when two people decide to wade into the quagmire that is relationship as defined by words such as "friendship," or "like family," or "lover," then they have now willingly sunk themselves up to their elbows and eyeballs into all those unspoken, hidden, and undefinable things that make up the multiverse of a human soul.
and fools that we are, somehow we come to believe that since we're speaking the same language, we're actually speaking the same language.
we believe that others approach life the way we approach life. think as we think. take for granted what should, naturally, be taken for granted. define "common sense" by the same factors.
oh, sure, we say, "of course not! i know everyone has their own way of doing stuff. pfft! c'mon, what do you take me for?" but inside, privately, we wonder how come they don't want what we want, wouldn't do what we would do, why they do a thing and think it's smart when we can clearly see it was completely stupid.
and so we call them these things. we call them selfish, or cowardly, or stupid. we call their ideas and thoughts and needs moronic and trivial. or we say, "i love you, so i say this with love: get over it," and wonder at this other person's sudden flare of nuclear temper.
there's no way we can know a person. not like they know themselves. they know how their world works, how their multiverse is strung together. they may not be able to completely describe it, but they know and understand. and if we are to have a true relationship with that person, then we must be willing to step into their multiverse and learn their rules. E may not exactly equal mc^. an eye for an eye might be too tame a price. or it could be a world without shrimp, so we learn to love oysters.
whatever it is, in a relationship, we're not forcing someone to live by our multiverse's definitions. we're asking to learn how to live in theirs. we're not trying to bend anyone to fit our comfort, not yelling at them or guilt-tripping them because they fail to meet our standards.
a relationship is the wonderful thing created when two people relate. to relate is to have a sympathetic connection with another person. and to be sympathetic is to have compassion for them. to have compassion is to be merciful.
where is the mercy in criticism? in name-calling? in passive-aggression? in inflicting pain to get even, or even make a point? where is the sympathy and compassion in reveling in the anger and allowing the pain it caused you to define a part of who you are?
all of those things aren't part of a relationship. all those things are selfishly motivated and fear-based.
what are you afraid of? what are you hiding from? why do you hold on to your anger?
relationships are the cause of more headaches, illness, injury, and death than probably every other threat to the human species combined. but they're worth it if there is compassion and mercy coming from both sides. and the wellspring from which all these things are drawn?
love.
and i'm not just talking romantic relationships, either. i'm talking about any relationship that any two people share. and even within a family relationship, you have to take each pairing, because nobody reacts the same way to everyone. although i must say that families hold a little advantage. for instance, it wasn't until *t* came up to visit me this summer that the house of dragons' rest were able to look at me with a lot more comprehension in their eyes and say to me, "now i see where you get it."
with the rest of everyone, when you meet someone, there's a multiverse of history and culture, mores and belief structures, subconscious reactions and individual nature all waiting beneath the surface of a smile and friendly demeanor. some things about a person are malleable, able to be influenced. others are hard-wired. some people are self-aware enough to be aware of the hard-wiring. some choose to work to install a completely new program. some like it the way it is. some accept that it simply Is What Is. most aren't that self-aware.
when two people agree to relate to one another, a subtle dance ensues as they subconsciously figure out how much they will relate together. how deeply. for how long. and when two people decide to wade into the quagmire that is relationship as defined by words such as "friendship," or "like family," or "lover," then they have now willingly sunk themselves up to their elbows and eyeballs into all those unspoken, hidden, and undefinable things that make up the multiverse of a human soul.
and fools that we are, somehow we come to believe that since we're speaking the same language, we're actually speaking the same language.
we believe that others approach life the way we approach life. think as we think. take for granted what should, naturally, be taken for granted. define "common sense" by the same factors.
oh, sure, we say, "of course not! i know everyone has their own way of doing stuff. pfft! c'mon, what do you take me for?" but inside, privately, we wonder how come they don't want what we want, wouldn't do what we would do, why they do a thing and think it's smart when we can clearly see it was completely stupid.
and so we call them these things. we call them selfish, or cowardly, or stupid. we call their ideas and thoughts and needs moronic and trivial. or we say, "i love you, so i say this with love: get over it," and wonder at this other person's sudden flare of nuclear temper.
there's no way we can know a person. not like they know themselves. they know how their world works, how their multiverse is strung together. they may not be able to completely describe it, but they know and understand. and if we are to have a true relationship with that person, then we must be willing to step into their multiverse and learn their rules. E may not exactly equal mc^. an eye for an eye might be too tame a price. or it could be a world without shrimp, so we learn to love oysters.
whatever it is, in a relationship, we're not forcing someone to live by our multiverse's definitions. we're asking to learn how to live in theirs. we're not trying to bend anyone to fit our comfort, not yelling at them or guilt-tripping them because they fail to meet our standards.
a relationship is the wonderful thing created when two people relate. to relate is to have a sympathetic connection with another person. and to be sympathetic is to have compassion for them. to have compassion is to be merciful.
where is the mercy in criticism? in name-calling? in passive-aggression? in inflicting pain to get even, or even make a point? where is the sympathy and compassion in reveling in the anger and allowing the pain it caused you to define a part of who you are?
all of those things aren't part of a relationship. all those things are selfishly motivated and fear-based.
what are you afraid of? what are you hiding from? why do you hold on to your anger?
relationships are the cause of more headaches, illness, injury, and death than probably every other threat to the human species combined. but they're worth it if there is compassion and mercy coming from both sides. and the wellspring from which all these things are drawn?
love.
9.26.2007
brezsny-on-the-blog
CAPRICORN (Dec 22-Jan 19): Washington, D.C.'s most renowned vagrant never begs for money. Instead, he hangs around the streets all day and doles out praise and flatter to passers-by. He calls himself Compliment Man. "Those are beautiful shoes you're wearing," he may say as you walk by, or "The two of you look great together," if you're with a friend. In accordance with the astrological omens, Capricorn, your assignment is to be inspired by the Compliment Man in two ways. First, dramatically increase the blessings you bestow and the admiration you express; be a fount of felicitations. Second, expand your capacity for attracting and gracefully accepting compliments. Make yourself fully available, in every way you can imagine, to receive approval and applause. (P.S. I think you'll find that carrying out task #1 will make task #2 occur quite naturally.)
this makes total sense, actually.
lately i've gotten even better at approaching perfect strangers and complimenting them on everything from their tie to the dog they're walking. and after they get over their utter shock and discomfort that a perfect stranger --a perfect, smiling stranger-- is talking to them, they finally hear the words the stranger just said. and then they realize it was a compliment. most times, they say 'thanks,' and hurry away.
sometimes, though, they smile and i watch them walk away with...something more. and i really enjoy doing that. and i enjoy walking down the street and smiling and saying, "hi!" to the person i'm walking past. that's what i love about portland. in so.cal, i could never do that. people are assholes there, and walk around scowling and hating life. they're so much friendlier up here, comparitively. in places like the uber-teenie town i almost moved into in idaho, they're even friendlier. more sheltered, i suppose, lol. but still. it was great.
and it's gotten even more fun, and easier, and i'm more enthusiastic now that i know i'm not leaving my beloved city. i know that as long as i believe living in portland is imperative to keeping my Funk, then it will be imperative. as long as i believe i need it, then i need it. but for right now, i'm okay with that. i know it's all in my head, but i really am fine with that.
and even if i don't receive compliments in return, i'm okay with that, too. i know what i'm good at, and that's what's important. when i'm complimented, i know it's sincere. and at work, i'm actually complimented a lot, in many different forms. the girls in the tigard salon are always so happy when i come to help them out, and they're always asking if i'm going to transfer to their store, and the mgr is always asking to have me back. that's a HUGE compliment in itself. the girls at my home salon include me in their after-work activities. that's a compliment. my old writing board has been revived, and the creator keeps saying that i'm her muse. that's a huge and very valuable compliment! whenever my parents, or *m*, or *ds* and *ks* tell me they love me or call me "their Dee," that's a big compliment.
come to think of it, i'm fucking surrounded by compliments! how awesome is that???
this makes total sense, actually.
lately i've gotten even better at approaching perfect strangers and complimenting them on everything from their tie to the dog they're walking. and after they get over their utter shock and discomfort that a perfect stranger --a perfect, smiling stranger-- is talking to them, they finally hear the words the stranger just said. and then they realize it was a compliment. most times, they say 'thanks,' and hurry away.
sometimes, though, they smile and i watch them walk away with...something more. and i really enjoy doing that. and i enjoy walking down the street and smiling and saying, "hi!" to the person i'm walking past. that's what i love about portland. in so.cal, i could never do that. people are assholes there, and walk around scowling and hating life. they're so much friendlier up here, comparitively. in places like the uber-teenie town i almost moved into in idaho, they're even friendlier. more sheltered, i suppose, lol. but still. it was great.
and it's gotten even more fun, and easier, and i'm more enthusiastic now that i know i'm not leaving my beloved city. i know that as long as i believe living in portland is imperative to keeping my Funk, then it will be imperative. as long as i believe i need it, then i need it. but for right now, i'm okay with that. i know it's all in my head, but i really am fine with that.
and even if i don't receive compliments in return, i'm okay with that, too. i know what i'm good at, and that's what's important. when i'm complimented, i know it's sincere. and at work, i'm actually complimented a lot, in many different forms. the girls in the tigard salon are always so happy when i come to help them out, and they're always asking if i'm going to transfer to their store, and the mgr is always asking to have me back. that's a HUGE compliment in itself. the girls at my home salon include me in their after-work activities. that's a compliment. my old writing board has been revived, and the creator keeps saying that i'm her muse. that's a huge and very valuable compliment! whenever my parents, or *m*, or *ds* and *ks* tell me they love me or call me "their Dee," that's a big compliment.
come to think of it, i'm fucking surrounded by compliments! how awesome is that???
9.25.2007
rainbow dreams
this week's rainbow dreams is brought to you by the inner child tarot, potential, and the letter K.have you ever slept so deeply you forgot you existed?
the worms in the earth had grown so accustomed to me they didn't gossip about me anymore. the creak and groan of the trees above me told of them growing their roots around my body. i was one with Earth, with the solid terra firma of the Holy Dirt Clod Floating in Space.
i was floating in silence, in peaceful and unremarkable stasis. there had been so much change in body and spirit and mind and blood i had actually approached the plateau of my Funky potential. and so i had Slept. i had departed body, departed pain and dirt and mud and blood and flown with the Vulture Destroyer. i'd played a game of poker with the Jiggy Snake, that Funkalicious mega-pyromaniac...
one moment i was so deeply asleep as to be beyond dead, and the next i was so fully in my body and mind that at first i couldn't remember who i was, or where i was. details suddenly flooded back to me. i was...
i was human. female. i had two eyes, a secret collection of romance novels, and an appetite for enchiladas. after what seemed eons of contemplating the universe and realizing so much talent for mental discipline, astral and ethereal travel, and discovering a certain knack for poker...suddenly nothing was as important as tasting enchiladas again. i was ravenous for burritos and sushi, laughter, the fecund smell of soggy wood and mud in a Portland autumn, and the futile attempt to scratch that spot on my back that i could never quite reach.
i could think of nothing so much as feeling the sensation of a headache, of my butt going numb after a hugely long road trip, of sex with *m* up against the door jamb, and of cold and frothy soymilk washing down my throat. i imagined the feel of wearing a white hanes undershirt and almost fainted from the ecstasy of it.
after an Age of nothingness, of "elevation" to a "higher plane of conciousness," all i could think of was the mundane and miraculous fiesta of all five senses going crazy with the bombarding goodness with which the world assaults a person with all the delirious frenzy a watermelon feels when it gets run over by a mack truck on the highway going eighty miles per hour.
i was starving for the commonly wonderous. for the numinous normal and miraculous mundane!
suddenly i was clawing my way out of my muddy womb. much as i loved it for sheltering and nourishing me for all this time, it was too confining now. it was stagnant and pressing and limiting! what good was magical and mental discipline, and calling the Jiggy Snake's really bad poker bluff, if i couldn't breathe deep and smell car fumes and roses, enjoy pudding and blood sausage, or wriggle my toes in a pair of dirty socks and laugh with a mug of warm, flat cider in my hand?
what good was enlightenment without first being wildly and ecstatically in love with the whole bloody, freakin' WORLD?!!?!
it was no good, is what it was. the highest and greatest power, the wisest secrets, the most focused disciplines, the Talents of priestess and counselor and mother and human were right Here.
here. in the moment. in life. in the now.
and i wanted it.
i was naked and filthy when i emerged from the ground. my fingernails were black and crusted, my hair muddy and hanging in ropes down my back. i tasted moist soil and smelled of loam. the autumn wind rustled through half-naked branches and raised violent goosflesh on my skin.
it was wonderful.
a doe stood a few paces away and regarded me with one soft, soulful eye. i understood what she said to me. the wind whispered to me, and i knew where its conversation had originated. i was taller, stood straighter, was leaner and stronger than i had been before. like odysseus' men after circe had lifted her spell and restored their humanity, i was more than i had been after my own departure from humanity.
i knew i could not return to the norm i had known, nor did i wish it. now was the time for new opportunities, for new chances and new adventures, new wisdom and new sensations.
i could be a better daughter now, a better dog groomer, a better sister and mother and lover. i could be a better magician and musician. i would be a better giver, a better listener, a better understander and sharer, communicator and supporter. and i would definitely be a better driver!
i would be all those things, and better, because i knew the secret: that there was no more sacred moment than Now, and whatever i am doing, nothing is more important.
9.22.2007
fall cleaning
i have a dirty mind.
yeah, you read that right. i got a dirty mind!
for two whole freakin' months i've been so dang preoccupied with this stupid move that it's literally dominated every aspect of my life. waking, sleeping, eating, and breathing this move.
i need to deep-clean and de-clutter the delena brain.
did you know that today was a fabulously gorgeous day in the pacific northwest? in my neighborhood it was a brilliant 66 degrees F. the sky shocked with its corduroy blueness, clear and crisp in the west. so clear that driving home felt like driving in a work of acrylic-come-alive artwork, with the hills in lake oswego sillhouetted in ash-green and kelly, with the salmon orange sunlight melting over everything and sparkling on the creeks and windows like liquid gold. it scintillated and laughed as i drove by, listening to the monkeys sing about being a believer.
i crave whole grains and crisp autumn vegetables, hard cheeses and crunchy walnuts. i want to curl up beside the kitties on the futon with my freshly crocheted afghan with the funky fringe, with my hard-working hands warming themselves around a cup of my spicy mexican hot chocolate or mulled cider. my fingers itch for the crochet needle and the feel of soft wool threading between my fingertips. i long to wake early in the morning, before the sun, and jog four miles just to feel the blood sing through my veins, to feel the sensation of running (even if aided by a machine, since my own crooked spine prevents real running...) and the freedom of movement.
strangely enough, i feel something inside me awakening with the coming of autumn and the feast of Harvest Home. there is much abundance and Funky blessings in my life, and i am thankful for all of them.
...today was a beautiful day.
yeah, you read that right. i got a dirty mind!
for two whole freakin' months i've been so dang preoccupied with this stupid move that it's literally dominated every aspect of my life. waking, sleeping, eating, and breathing this move.
i need to deep-clean and de-clutter the delena brain.
did you know that today was a fabulously gorgeous day in the pacific northwest? in my neighborhood it was a brilliant 66 degrees F. the sky shocked with its corduroy blueness, clear and crisp in the west. so clear that driving home felt like driving in a work of acrylic-come-alive artwork, with the hills in lake oswego sillhouetted in ash-green and kelly, with the salmon orange sunlight melting over everything and sparkling on the creeks and windows like liquid gold. it scintillated and laughed as i drove by, listening to the monkeys sing about being a believer.
i crave whole grains and crisp autumn vegetables, hard cheeses and crunchy walnuts. i want to curl up beside the kitties on the futon with my freshly crocheted afghan with the funky fringe, with my hard-working hands warming themselves around a cup of my spicy mexican hot chocolate or mulled cider. my fingers itch for the crochet needle and the feel of soft wool threading between my fingertips. i long to wake early in the morning, before the sun, and jog four miles just to feel the blood sing through my veins, to feel the sensation of running (even if aided by a machine, since my own crooked spine prevents real running...) and the freedom of movement.
strangely enough, i feel something inside me awakening with the coming of autumn and the feast of Harvest Home. there is much abundance and Funky blessings in my life, and i am thankful for all of them.
...today was a beautiful day.
9.20.2007
how delena got her Funk back
y'know, the thing i really love about my life is that i can be zooming along life's highway at light speed when suddenly everything just changes direction in the blink of an eye.
like those really cool bikes in tron.
and then, just like that, i have to change tack and catch the wind, and off i go again like i'd always been going this way. of course, sometimes i get tangled in the lines and capsize, but i'm proud to say i usually recover fairly quickly.
this weekend of mine was about getting away, letting off a little steam and trying to de-stress at least enough that i didn't end up grinding *m*'s bones to make my bread. but i got three text messages and a voicemail with him telling me, "you need to call me." so i did.
me: "what's up?"
him: "we didn't get the apartment."
me: "what? why?"
him: *long explanation about how the owner was upset that he was too stupid to understand the small tangle that is my name change, and something about a spot on *m*'s credit five years ago*
me: *ranting*
him: "so today at lunch i'm gonna run around and gather up a few numbers of other apartments. the only thing is...everything else is full. and the duplexes i found--"
me: "ooh, duplexes!"
him: "--are a little seedy."
me: "so what's wrong with the duplexes?"
him: "they're seedy. i don't mind a little 'character,' but that's a little more character than i like to live in, y'know?"
me: *remembers the disputed gang territory/other-side-of-the-tracks neighborhood i grew up in, and scoffs* "um, so?"
him: "so...i dunno. i'll just see what i can come up with."
me: "y'know," *somewhat-but-not-really-joking-tone-that-was-more-hopeful-than-anything* "i can always just check with my apartment and you can move up here."
him: "y'know, i've been thinking about that."
so we talked more, and agreed to give it until the manager at the idaho apartments called back with an answer from the owner. i have to give the woman props. she was really working hard and trying for us. she actually called me not many hours after that conversation with *m* to tell me personally that the answer was no, and to apologize profusely. i was genuinely disappointed, because i'd chosen those apartments mainly because i adored her. she would've been an awesome manager to be renting from, lemme tell you.
so i called *m* back, and we talked a bit more, and he asked for a bit of time to really think about it. he was giving me a lot of, "i guess," and "i suppose." nuh-uh. gimme definites to walk on, or i'll make definites.
around midnight i got a text. "i'll move...yes i'm sure. sweet dreams."
of course, he's upset, and surprise of all surprises, i know exactly how he feels. i've only been living in that mix of dread, homesickness, helplessness, and fearful pain for the past two months. but it's slowly been hitting me:
i'm staying!
driving home from madras last night i was awesome. i had the "for dee" series (as i call them) in the cd player. greggo had made me a few cd's of mixed songs a couple years ago, and they remain some of my top favorites to listen to. especially that 80's mix he did...he really knew my tastes so well. it was 80's covers by modern bands, mostly goth and punk, which are two of my favorites. it's really an awesome cd. and somewhere around mt. hood i was blindly groping for a new cd to put in, and disc 2 of the wall came up the lucky winner.
so i was alone on the 26W, the funkmobile flying at 70mph, with the gorgeous evergreens a chiaroscuro of black sillhouetted guardian sentinels on either side of me, the Big Dipper shining bright just off to my left in the navy blue-black sky, and me singing "comfortably numb" at the top of my lungs.
and where before i'd be driving by all my usual landmarks with a regretful good-bye in my heart, now it was with a sense of having them all given back to me with renewed appreciation. i'm not leaving!
the Funk is BACK, baby!
like those really cool bikes in tron.
and then, just like that, i have to change tack and catch the wind, and off i go again like i'd always been going this way. of course, sometimes i get tangled in the lines and capsize, but i'm proud to say i usually recover fairly quickly.
this weekend of mine was about getting away, letting off a little steam and trying to de-stress at least enough that i didn't end up grinding *m*'s bones to make my bread. but i got three text messages and a voicemail with him telling me, "you need to call me." so i did.
me: "what's up?"
him: "we didn't get the apartment."
me: "what? why?"
him: *long explanation about how the owner was upset that he was too stupid to understand the small tangle that is my name change, and something about a spot on *m*'s credit five years ago*
me: *ranting*
him: "so today at lunch i'm gonna run around and gather up a few numbers of other apartments. the only thing is...everything else is full. and the duplexes i found--"
me: "ooh, duplexes!"
him: "--are a little seedy."
me: "so what's wrong with the duplexes?"
him: "they're seedy. i don't mind a little 'character,' but that's a little more character than i like to live in, y'know?"
me: *remembers the disputed gang territory/other-side-of-the-tracks neighborhood i grew up in, and scoffs* "um, so?"
him: "so...i dunno. i'll just see what i can come up with."
me: "y'know," *somewhat-but-not-really-joking-tone-that-was-more-hopeful-than-anything* "i can always just check with my apartment and you can move up here."
him: "y'know, i've been thinking about that."
so we talked more, and agreed to give it until the manager at the idaho apartments called back with an answer from the owner. i have to give the woman props. she was really working hard and trying for us. she actually called me not many hours after that conversation with *m* to tell me personally that the answer was no, and to apologize profusely. i was genuinely disappointed, because i'd chosen those apartments mainly because i adored her. she would've been an awesome manager to be renting from, lemme tell you.
so i called *m* back, and we talked a bit more, and he asked for a bit of time to really think about it. he was giving me a lot of, "i guess," and "i suppose." nuh-uh. gimme definites to walk on, or i'll make definites.
around midnight i got a text. "i'll move...yes i'm sure. sweet dreams."
of course, he's upset, and surprise of all surprises, i know exactly how he feels. i've only been living in that mix of dread, homesickness, helplessness, and fearful pain for the past two months. but it's slowly been hitting me:
i'm staying!
driving home from madras last night i was awesome. i had the "for dee" series (as i call them) in the cd player. greggo had made me a few cd's of mixed songs a couple years ago, and they remain some of my top favorites to listen to. especially that 80's mix he did...he really knew my tastes so well. it was 80's covers by modern bands, mostly goth and punk, which are two of my favorites. it's really an awesome cd. and somewhere around mt. hood i was blindly groping for a new cd to put in, and disc 2 of the wall came up the lucky winner.
so i was alone on the 26W, the funkmobile flying at 70mph, with the gorgeous evergreens a chiaroscuro of black sillhouetted guardian sentinels on either side of me, the Big Dipper shining bright just off to my left in the navy blue-black sky, and me singing "comfortably numb" at the top of my lungs.
and where before i'd be driving by all my usual landmarks with a regretful good-bye in my heart, now it was with a sense of having them all given back to me with renewed appreciation. i'm not leaving!
the Funk is BACK, baby!
9.17.2007
i'll have mine with a side of real
so i have my last day set. the manager lady put it in as Oct. 1st, which just so happens to be *m*'s birthday.
i have the day i'm moving, which is the day after *m*'s birthday.
i'm taking time off from life and going down to visit *r* in madras. it's a two-hour drive, but we miss each other. she told me a couple weeks ago that she's pregnant. she told me, like, the minute she found out, and she's so excited. i'm going with her maternity clothes shopping, and to her first ultrasound. i love things like this...
so i'll be gone for a few days. after...well...everything...i just need a few days away.
i have the day i'm moving, which is the day after *m*'s birthday.
i'm taking time off from life and going down to visit *r* in madras. it's a two-hour drive, but we miss each other. she told me a couple weeks ago that she's pregnant. she told me, like, the minute she found out, and she's so excited. i'm going with her maternity clothes shopping, and to her first ultrasound. i love things like this...
so i'll be gone for a few days. after...well...everything...i just need a few days away.
9.15.2007
when all is said and done
i called in to work today. i had a bitch of a migraine that laid me pretty much flat all day. my poor head's still sore, but at least it's not throbbing or threatening to fall off my shoulders.
plus, i think i really needed the day to myself, even though i did absolutely nothing.
my previous post sounded harsh. i'd actually written it the day before, posted it, then retracted it because i was afraid of what *m* might think, or do, because of it. but then i went right back to being hugely ready to just pop. so i re-posted it. and you know what? i felt better.
now that it's all out, even my lack of blatant honesty lately, trying to post only the positive stuff and put the best face i could (or not write anything at all if i couldn't), i feel better. quieter. for the first time in a week, i actually miss the sound of *m*'s voice. that could be me being all clingy-feeling because i felt wretched all day, but whatever. point is, when all is said and done, he's special to me. i keep forgetting how hurt and anger get in the way of that. if i were to die tonight, i'd regret not having talked with *m* more about things. i'd regret that i let his blatant guyness piss me off so much.
i've never done this before. y'know, have a real relationship. like, ever. there's always been something, y'know? like rape, or neglect, or fistfighting and dislocated shoulders, drinking, or just plain mutual contempt and bad sex. i've never given a shit about anyone i was with. not really. but i care about this one, like really care. like what i said here, and i didn't want to actually say what it was, but i knew what it was.
Love.
like, real, true love. the kind of love i feel for my family, for those people in my life who are important. the ones i'd do anything for, whether or not i hated it or even wanted to. without question, you sacrifice for people you love. i love *m*. i've never loved before.
i just had to get out all that crap before i could hear it again.
plus, i think i really needed the day to myself, even though i did absolutely nothing.
my previous post sounded harsh. i'd actually written it the day before, posted it, then retracted it because i was afraid of what *m* might think, or do, because of it. but then i went right back to being hugely ready to just pop. so i re-posted it. and you know what? i felt better.
now that it's all out, even my lack of blatant honesty lately, trying to post only the positive stuff and put the best face i could (or not write anything at all if i couldn't), i feel better. quieter. for the first time in a week, i actually miss the sound of *m*'s voice. that could be me being all clingy-feeling because i felt wretched all day, but whatever. point is, when all is said and done, he's special to me. i keep forgetting how hurt and anger get in the way of that. if i were to die tonight, i'd regret not having talked with *m* more about things. i'd regret that i let his blatant guyness piss me off so much.
i've never done this before. y'know, have a real relationship. like, ever. there's always been something, y'know? like rape, or neglect, or fistfighting and dislocated shoulders, drinking, or just plain mutual contempt and bad sex. i've never given a shit about anyone i was with. not really. but i care about this one, like really care. like what i said here, and i didn't want to actually say what it was, but i knew what it was.
Love.
like, real, true love. the kind of love i feel for my family, for those people in my life who are important. the ones i'd do anything for, whether or not i hated it or even wanted to. without question, you sacrifice for people you love. i love *m*. i've never loved before.
i just had to get out all that crap before i could hear it again.
9.14.2007
and i've forgotten how to remember
my blogs tend to have their own cycle, as with every thing in the multiverse.
first i'm honest. then i'm too honest. then i wonder if i should tone it down a bit. then i start to hold back. then i get frustrated (or disgusted) with myself and return to plain honesty, damn the torpedoes.
fuck the torpedoes.
quite honestly, the last post in which you were able to read the pure, unadulterated, completely honest delena was back on august 9th with the post venus envy. that's, um...that's kinda sad. but *m* read it and got all hurt and insulted, so to spare his feelings i began to hold back. i also began to do the "cup is half full" thing, hoping to cheer him up and show him, "see? delena's positive about this fucking move thing."
but since i'm getting tired of this pansy-ass beating around the bush, saying-it-without-really-saying-it, trying to put the best face on everything bullshit, and since *m* doesn't even read this fucking blog anymore anyway, i'm going back to saying what i want to say, when i want to say it, and how i fucking want to say it, godsfuckingdammitall.
the Funk is still MIA in my life, but i realize now it's because i've forgotten how to be alone with myself, how to meditate and really focus on listening to the multiverse. i used to be able to listen to the breeze and laugh at the sacred puns it whispered to the grass, or breathe the sunshine, see happiness in each maple leaf, and fuck gravity. i used to go to the gym every morning and while my body was running four miles on the elliptical machine, my consciousness was a pearlescent white dragon riding the thermals out to the coast and beyond, to the place where lilith had built D'hainu.
the Funk is MIA because i've forgotten how to be honest with myself. i've been thinking all these thoughts, feeling all these feelings, and i've been choking them down the way you choke down godawful roast beef at your mother-in-law's house so you don't hurt anybody's feelings. i've been choking on only the gods know how much, just so i don't hurt, or annoy, or piss off *m*. or anyone else, for that matter.
and in the meantime i've been dying for a shot of antifreeze with an arsenic chaser.
the last time we talked on the phone was this past saturday night, just about a full week ago. i finally told him i didn't want to talk to him until i'd had a chance to bury a lot of things, and bury them deep. he obviously doesn't want to hear about them because all he does is get defensive and start attacking me, going on about how he's got all this stress too and basically i have no right to feel the way i do.
like he's uprooting his fucking perfect life to move five hundred miles away? like hell.
but this past week, i've sent him text messages when *i* felt like it, and haven't spoken to him when i didn't feel like it. and this past week has probably been the least stressful, least nightmarish that i've had probably since the beginning of august. i've actually laughed out loud.
i know.
i've been singing in the car again. i find i crack myself up with my old, random delena thoughts that i used to have all the time. i find i'm once again capable of simply enjoying the beauty of a gorgeous portland day. and yes, while all my dogs for the past two weeks have all been absolute shits on my table --biting me, growling, making it virtually impossible to groom them-- i find i still love my job. i've been chatty and witty, joking and friendly at work again. i went out the other night to celebrate the 21st birthday of one of the girls at my salon. and downtown? i was getting off the MAX and complimented a perfect stranger simply because i totally loved her skirt.
it's, like, i've been the old me. you remember her? Delena of the Funkywild? i'd so totally forgotten about her.
and yesterday my weird cravings for all-things-bad-for-me disappeared, like, instantly. i'm eating healthily again. yes, i now need to break my new caffeine habit (bad chemical dependency, bad!), but that's easily done. my dreams have returned, too. i really missed dreaming.
however, i still love *m*. actually, i think i might actually love him more now than i've had a chance to thus far. he's human, ergo a fucktard. we're all fucktards when stupid emotions drive us to do stupid things. i know i have a great, long list of instances when i was guilty of being a fucktard. hell, i've even done time as Queen of the Fucktards. doesn't mean i love *m* any less. actually, now that my mind has had a bit of time to quiet down, i can hear the song my love has still been singing all this time, it's just been too quiet to be heard above the din of my crazy, stressed-out howling. with big *c*, my love song was completely drowned out by the din of my hatred, contempt, and rat-crazy human deprivation. i've taken the time to let my inside quiet down, and i can still hear my love, singing away.
i've been able to sit down and admit that yes, i now have no good reason to move at all, other than the simple fact i want to demonstrate i still support his decision to resign from the police force. if i were to say, "nope, not movin'. you can come to portland instead," that would just make him feel like a total failure, which isn't my objective. and that, simply put, is now my only reason for moving. it isn't a strong reason, or even a good reason, but it's my reason. would i love it if he just volunteered to move instead of me? yes, absolutely. do i hope he would? stupidly, i do. i wish he could be so selfless. but i will never ask him to do that, because i know how much uprooting your whole life just sucks ass. but he hasn't volunteered, and i know he won't. he's going to wait for me to ask, which he knows i will never do, so he's kind of safe and i know he knows it. and so...i'm moving.
i've worked this whole week on burying my resentment. he asked me to move, and i said i would. but then so many things changed, things that seriously were the foundation of my agreement to move...like the fact he used to be a cop, and he used to be part of their S.W.A.T. team. and now he's not. but a good woman stands by her man and supports him, so i'm going to fuck myself and move anyway. yeah, i'm resentful as hell. it doesn't help that when i'm angry, or stressed-out, or panicking again, or afraid, i can't come to *m* with it because he gets all defensive and wishes i'd just drop it and change the subject, pretend i'm all happy and everything's okay. last time i was in that kind of relationship, i bore the guy a child, almost died from it, then dumped his ass and have been spending the rest of my life feeling contempt for the pussy little fuckwit.
i don't know what to do here anymore. it's stupid, i know, but i'm actually hoping things improve after i move and we're actually, y'know, together. it's a stupid hope, i know, but it's all i have. *m*'s behavior doesn't exactly fill my heart with invincible joy. i'm burying things that should be freely breathing beneath the golden sun and growing silver in the moon. but instead i'm planting the seed of a festering disease and i know it. but *m* doesn't want to hear it. the man who said he loved to listen to anything i had to say, who said he loved my strong independence and ability to tell it like it is...doesn't want to hear it. what else am i supposed to do with it?
first i'm honest. then i'm too honest. then i wonder if i should tone it down a bit. then i start to hold back. then i get frustrated (or disgusted) with myself and return to plain honesty, damn the torpedoes.
fuck the torpedoes.
quite honestly, the last post in which you were able to read the pure, unadulterated, completely honest delena was back on august 9th with the post venus envy. that's, um...that's kinda sad. but *m* read it and got all hurt and insulted, so to spare his feelings i began to hold back. i also began to do the "cup is half full" thing, hoping to cheer him up and show him, "see? delena's positive about this fucking move thing."
but since i'm getting tired of this pansy-ass beating around the bush, saying-it-without-really-saying-it, trying to put the best face on everything bullshit, and since *m* doesn't even read this fucking blog anymore anyway, i'm going back to saying what i want to say, when i want to say it, and how i fucking want to say it, godsfuckingdammitall.
the Funk is still MIA in my life, but i realize now it's because i've forgotten how to be alone with myself, how to meditate and really focus on listening to the multiverse. i used to be able to listen to the breeze and laugh at the sacred puns it whispered to the grass, or breathe the sunshine, see happiness in each maple leaf, and fuck gravity. i used to go to the gym every morning and while my body was running four miles on the elliptical machine, my consciousness was a pearlescent white dragon riding the thermals out to the coast and beyond, to the place where lilith had built D'hainu.
the Funk is MIA because i've forgotten how to be honest with myself. i've been thinking all these thoughts, feeling all these feelings, and i've been choking them down the way you choke down godawful roast beef at your mother-in-law's house so you don't hurt anybody's feelings. i've been choking on only the gods know how much, just so i don't hurt, or annoy, or piss off *m*. or anyone else, for that matter.
and in the meantime i've been dying for a shot of antifreeze with an arsenic chaser.
the last time we talked on the phone was this past saturday night, just about a full week ago. i finally told him i didn't want to talk to him until i'd had a chance to bury a lot of things, and bury them deep. he obviously doesn't want to hear about them because all he does is get defensive and start attacking me, going on about how he's got all this stress too and basically i have no right to feel the way i do.
like he's uprooting his fucking perfect life to move five hundred miles away? like hell.
but this past week, i've sent him text messages when *i* felt like it, and haven't spoken to him when i didn't feel like it. and this past week has probably been the least stressful, least nightmarish that i've had probably since the beginning of august. i've actually laughed out loud.
i know.
i've been singing in the car again. i find i crack myself up with my old, random delena thoughts that i used to have all the time. i find i'm once again capable of simply enjoying the beauty of a gorgeous portland day. and yes, while all my dogs for the past two weeks have all been absolute shits on my table --biting me, growling, making it virtually impossible to groom them-- i find i still love my job. i've been chatty and witty, joking and friendly at work again. i went out the other night to celebrate the 21st birthday of one of the girls at my salon. and downtown? i was getting off the MAX and complimented a perfect stranger simply because i totally loved her skirt.
it's, like, i've been the old me. you remember her? Delena of the Funkywild? i'd so totally forgotten about her.
and yesterday my weird cravings for all-things-bad-for-me disappeared, like, instantly. i'm eating healthily again. yes, i now need to break my new caffeine habit (bad chemical dependency, bad!), but that's easily done. my dreams have returned, too. i really missed dreaming.
however, i still love *m*. actually, i think i might actually love him more now than i've had a chance to thus far. he's human, ergo a fucktard. we're all fucktards when stupid emotions drive us to do stupid things. i know i have a great, long list of instances when i was guilty of being a fucktard. hell, i've even done time as Queen of the Fucktards. doesn't mean i love *m* any less. actually, now that my mind has had a bit of time to quiet down, i can hear the song my love has still been singing all this time, it's just been too quiet to be heard above the din of my crazy, stressed-out howling. with big *c*, my love song was completely drowned out by the din of my hatred, contempt, and rat-crazy human deprivation. i've taken the time to let my inside quiet down, and i can still hear my love, singing away.
i've been able to sit down and admit that yes, i now have no good reason to move at all, other than the simple fact i want to demonstrate i still support his decision to resign from the police force. if i were to say, "nope, not movin'. you can come to portland instead," that would just make him feel like a total failure, which isn't my objective. and that, simply put, is now my only reason for moving. it isn't a strong reason, or even a good reason, but it's my reason. would i love it if he just volunteered to move instead of me? yes, absolutely. do i hope he would? stupidly, i do. i wish he could be so selfless. but i will never ask him to do that, because i know how much uprooting your whole life just sucks ass. but he hasn't volunteered, and i know he won't. he's going to wait for me to ask, which he knows i will never do, so he's kind of safe and i know he knows it. and so...i'm moving.
i've worked this whole week on burying my resentment. he asked me to move, and i said i would. but then so many things changed, things that seriously were the foundation of my agreement to move...like the fact he used to be a cop, and he used to be part of their S.W.A.T. team. and now he's not. but a good woman stands by her man and supports him, so i'm going to fuck myself and move anyway. yeah, i'm resentful as hell. it doesn't help that when i'm angry, or stressed-out, or panicking again, or afraid, i can't come to *m* with it because he gets all defensive and wishes i'd just drop it and change the subject, pretend i'm all happy and everything's okay. last time i was in that kind of relationship, i bore the guy a child, almost died from it, then dumped his ass and have been spending the rest of my life feeling contempt for the pussy little fuckwit.
i don't know what to do here anymore. it's stupid, i know, but i'm actually hoping things improve after i move and we're actually, y'know, together. it's a stupid hope, i know, but it's all i have. *m*'s behavior doesn't exactly fill my heart with invincible joy. i'm burying things that should be freely breathing beneath the golden sun and growing silver in the moon. but instead i'm planting the seed of a festering disease and i know it. but *m* doesn't want to hear it. the man who said he loved to listen to anything i had to say, who said he loved my strong independence and ability to tell it like it is...doesn't want to hear it. what else am i supposed to do with it?
9.10.2007
9.07.2007
smile makers, from iGoddess to you
these are just a few things i enjoy from time to time and decided it was high time i share...
1.)
ritterschlag...or "knight fwapping," to be vernacular about it. it's a hilarious spin on dragons, damsels in distress, and those pesky paladins who love them.
2.) ze end of ze world
this is a favorite among the House of Dragons' Rest. we can't stop quoting it.
3.) street installations
this is funky and unexpected street art by a pronoiac genius named mark jenkins. he brings the artistic objective of pronoia to life. finding the treasure amidst the trash, the jewel in the junkpile, the Funk in the fucked-up...
4.) imagining the tenth dimension
go ahead, boggle the freak out of your mind. stretch your limits of comprehending the multiverse. click on the button on their side menu that says "imagining the tenth dimension."
i dare you.
5.) the televisionary oracle
actually, being the Funktastic and rockalicious host with the holy ghost grin that robert brezsny is, he actually has freely given all 43 chapters of what is now my bible on his website.
1.)
ritterschlag...or "knight fwapping," to be vernacular about it. it's a hilarious spin on dragons, damsels in distress, and those pesky paladins who love them.
2.) ze end of ze world
this is a favorite among the House of Dragons' Rest. we can't stop quoting it.
3.) street installations
this is funky and unexpected street art by a pronoiac genius named mark jenkins. he brings the artistic objective of pronoia to life. finding the treasure amidst the trash, the jewel in the junkpile, the Funk in the fucked-up...
4.) imagining the tenth dimension
go ahead, boggle the freak out of your mind. stretch your limits of comprehending the multiverse. click on the button on their side menu that says "imagining the tenth dimension."
i dare you.
5.) the televisionary oracle
actually, being the Funktastic and rockalicious host with the holy ghost grin that robert brezsny is, he actually has freely given all 43 chapters of what is now my bible on his website.
9.04.2007
what's that word again?
from the oxford-delena dictionarytransition
n.
1. movement, passage, or change from one position, state of being, stage, concept, etc., to another
2. change
3. an event that results in a transformation
4. that period in the middle of flux when everything is everywhere, including thoughts and emotions, so that one glance at the overall picture results in stammering speechlessness
in effort to help me accomplish Field and achieve my certification faster, i've been moved over to the tigard salon for this week. yesterday was my first day back there, and everyone was very happy to see me. i think it's because they're so accustomed to students (they were the hub of groomer training for years), but they had nothing but the sorts of dogs and haircuts i needed. in one day i took two technical tests on a schnauzer and scottish terrier, which rocked. in all the time i'd been at my home salon, i'd only taken one. and that was the most basic: a contour on a...i don't even remember what breed. lhasa apso?
anyway, so already i've leapt ahead from where i was only two days ago, and some of my frustration has eased. now, i only require two more technicals (on a poodle or bichon, and some long-legged terrier like an airedale), and twenty dogs. the twenty dogs will be cake and pie, since i can groom six or seven dogs a day easily and do the job very well. and when i'm commissioned, that'll be like making around 25$ an hour.
not too shabby.
so i'm in flux at work, driving between my home salon and tigard, but i don't mind. i love the girls at the salon in both places, and at my home store i'm finally getting to know everyone and be comfortable joking and talking about personal things outside work. the manager lady and i are planning on going out for sushi before i leave. it's painful, though, knowing that just when i'm really starting to make more-than-superficial friends and feel truly comfortable at my store, i'm going to be leaving.
at home i've tamed some of the chaos that was the business of putting the sum of my worldly posessions and personality into boxes and stacking them like so much cargo. i've had to seriously --and i mean seriously-- resist labeling half of them "misc" because half of what i own just doesn't fit neatly into categories. i have papers and cross stitching supplies mixed in with purses and pictures simply because it all can happily fit into one box together and it was all in my closet anyway. that's enough similarity for me, as it were...even now, most of the items you can see floating around my bedroom have already found homes in boxes. and *ds* working at xerox has literally saved my sorry ass, financially. boxes are expensive nowadays! however, having a sister at xerox means i get all their old boxes if i but request she set aside a few for me. it's been wonderful. everything's stacked in easy-to-carry copy paper-sized boxes with fitted lids. she even brought bubble wrap! i'm going to have to do something extremely nice and fun for her by way of thanks. because, seriously, my gratitude for cardboard is unbelievable right now.
i'm having one last buffy the vampire slayer marathon before i move because a.) i was kinda itching for one since it's about that time anyway, and b.) *m* doesn't like buffy (the poor thing) and so i wanted to get the need for a marathon out from under my skin before we moved in together. y'know, kinda spare him for a few months before the itch came back. plus, it would give me some time to acquire my own set of dvd's. so i've been watching buffy and packing. the xbox 360 is staying right where it is until the last possible moment, as is my computer. i'm thinking that the buffy marathon will last me until i leave, so i've been thinking it might be high time to pack all my movies. i was leaving them out so i had something to fall asleep to. i like a bit of a movie while i wait for sleepiness to kick in. after a few doses of melatonin, it really helps, actually.and the demon children are adding their own new element to this new life i'm transitioning into. ling's shown herself to be quite affectionate, scolding me if i so much as get up to go to the bathroom. she'll follow me and squeak at me in that teenie kitten voice of hers, then rub up and purr with her little kitten motor going 90 miles a minute. her sister still remains nameless, and is quite aloof and likes to do her own thing. i've been taking time out to just hold her and get her accustomed to being handled because, dammit, i'm going to want snugglies with my kitties!
they still keep me up all night, though, wrestling, biting each other on the head, playing The Feet Must Die, and scrabbling on top of all the boxes stacked everywhere. if ling didn't curl up with me and fall asleep purring, i'd wonder if it wasn't punishment for something i did in a past life. oi vey...
and *m* and i finally made up and made things right between us. things had pretty much been tense between us since he came to visit early last month. the way i saw it, we'd settle the immediate issue, but the underlying theme was never resolved. but we finally fixed it, and the fixing was such that all my doubts in *m* slowly evaporated.
i now know why i needed to go through that bunch of fuck, though, to come out the other side. while i knew that the universe was giving me exactly what i needed exactly when i needed it, i couldn't for the life of me figure out why i needed it. now, however, i do, and i know a lot more about myself, actually. yes, delena makes sense. i learned that i had a fear that's been around since *jd*'s time. my bio-dad introduced the concept to me, and *jd* solidified it with his fickle, selfish, and asshole behavior. it's why i've always broken off every relationship since then: i never wanted to be blindsided like that ever again, to feel the world fall out from beneath my feet like that. but i knew that i loved and trusted *m* to the point where i'd stay and give my trust until he ripped it from beneath my feet, and it terrified me because i knew i'd never see it coming if it happened.
irrational fear. it was time to let that one go.
there are other things i learned, but that's enough for now. at least i know that while i'm sad to be leaving, i now honestly look forward to the end of this transition to find out what it is i'm becoming.
9.03.2007
status report
i'm one of those people who balances their checkbook three or four times a week. if five days go by without balancing, i sit online with WaMu banging my head on the desk and up to my eyeballs in self recrimination.
it's hilarious.
this is my way of saying that delena is a bit anal-retentive. not, like, potty-trained-at-gunpoint anal, but i'm pretty hard on myself. yes, go ahead and laugh. it was funny.
so anyway, i figured i'd repost my goals just to see where i am.
THINGS I'M DETERMINED TO GET DONE, DAMMIT:
(in no particular order)
1.have all my stuff packed by the last week of september
2.save up enough to be able to afford the ass-rape that will be moving expenses
3. be in idaho by the first week of october
4. get my field training finished at work
5. get my certification as a commissioned groomer
6. get down to a decent jeans size
7.get both pairs of my chica shoes fixed before i leave
8. make a new AMV
9.adopt those two kitties *m* and i liked over at the tigard adoption center
10.straighten up my room
11. get back on a regular gym regimen
12.clean up my diet after this loss of Funk
13.get the oil changed in the Funkmobile
14. get the Funkmobile's windshield replaced
15. give the Funkmobile a funky new paint job, black with pink airbrushing
16. get the Funkmobile new tires
17.finish the list of Things to Get for the New Apartment
18. decide on and get a decent haircut from my stylist
now, no. 1. there are still some things yet to be packed, but those aren't going into boxes until the day before i move anyway. so pretty much, i'm already packed. you should see my room. nothing but empty bookshelves, a bare headboard, and naked white walls. it's depressing.
no. 2. i was surprised i managed this one. or, rather, looking at my budget, i'm pretty darn close. if i had to do it myself, i could. and for that, i actually find i puff up a little in pride when i think about it. *m* is helping me with expenses, though, which seriously lifted a tremendous weight of financial stress off my shoulders. it's what enabled me to be able to do things like no's. 7, 13, and 18, which is happening on 9/11.
no. 9 is a hopeless cause. looking at finances for moving, adopting kitties just wasn't all that practical. and then the demon children came into my life, and there you have it.
no. 10 is hopeless. i actually did manage to have my room beautiful and neat --the way i like it-- for a day.
...then i started packing. so kick that one right out the window... but i did it!
no. 12. ...i miss taco hell. man, i really did need to clean up my diet if i'm missing taco hell...
no. 17. as far as i'm concerned, it's done. we'll be thinking of things to add to that list for years anyway. but it's cute. i'm actually getting all homey and crocheting all these dish rags and towels 'n things. i'm so cute...
i'm rather proud of myself. in two weeks, i managed to accomplish eight out of eighteen goals. and not all of them were simple, easy things, either. so here's the revised list:
1. be in idaho by the first week of october
2. get my field training finished at work
3. get my certification as a commissioned groomer
4. get down to a decent jeans size
5. make a new AMV
6. get back on a regular gym regimen
7. get the Funkmobile's windshield replaced
8. give the Funkmobile a funky new paint job, black with pink airbrushing
9. get the Funkmobile new tires
10. decide on and get a decent haircut from my stylist
it's hilarious.
this is my way of saying that delena is a bit anal-retentive. not, like, potty-trained-at-gunpoint anal, but i'm pretty hard on myself. yes, go ahead and laugh. it was funny.
so anyway, i figured i'd repost my goals just to see where i am.
THINGS I'M DETERMINED TO GET DONE, DAMMIT:
(in no particular order)
1.
2.
3. be in idaho by the first week of october
4. get my field training finished at work
5. get my certification as a commissioned groomer
6. get down to a decent jeans size
7.
8. make a new AMV
9.
10.
11. get back on a regular gym regimen
12.
13.
14. get the Funkmobile's windshield replaced
15. give the Funkmobile a funky new paint job, black with pink airbrushing
16. get the Funkmobile new tires
17.
18. decide on and get a decent haircut from my stylist
now, no. 1. there are still some things yet to be packed, but those aren't going into boxes until the day before i move anyway. so pretty much, i'm already packed. you should see my room. nothing but empty bookshelves, a bare headboard, and naked white walls. it's depressing.
no. 2. i was surprised i managed this one. or, rather, looking at my budget, i'm pretty darn close. if i had to do it myself, i could. and for that, i actually find i puff up a little in pride when i think about it. *m* is helping me with expenses, though, which seriously lifted a tremendous weight of financial stress off my shoulders. it's what enabled me to be able to do things like no's. 7, 13, and 18, which is happening on 9/11.
no. 9 is a hopeless cause. looking at finances for moving, adopting kitties just wasn't all that practical. and then the demon children came into my life, and there you have it.
no. 10 is hopeless. i actually did manage to have my room beautiful and neat --the way i like it-- for a day.
...then i started packing. so kick that one right out the window... but i did it!
no. 12. ...i miss taco hell. man, i really did need to clean up my diet if i'm missing taco hell...
no. 17. as far as i'm concerned, it's done. we'll be thinking of things to add to that list for years anyway. but it's cute. i'm actually getting all homey and crocheting all these dish rags and towels 'n things. i'm so cute...
i'm rather proud of myself. in two weeks, i managed to accomplish eight out of eighteen goals. and not all of them were simple, easy things, either. so here's the revised list:
1. be in idaho by the first week of october
2. get my field training finished at work
3. get my certification as a commissioned groomer
4. get down to a decent jeans size
5. make a new AMV
6. get back on a regular gym regimen
7. get the Funkmobile's windshield replaced
8. give the Funkmobile a funky new paint job, black with pink airbrushing
9. get the Funkmobile new tires
10. decide on and get a decent haircut from my stylist
9.01.2007
the demon children
so word had gotten around at work that delena was looking to adopt a couple of kitties. of course, it's also old news that delena is moving, and there's a bit of financial hardship because of it. hence, the not being able to adopt the kitties i wanted from our cat adoption center inside our store.
of course, one of the myriad girls in my salon was trying to find homes for kittens her horny-ass cat had given birth to a couple of months ago. so, naturally, she offered me kittens.
now, i had not wanted kittens. and i had originally not wanted two felines to begin with. however, *m* had seen a kitty at the adoption center that totally suckered him, and we just started operating under the assumption that we would be living with four felines in our house.
so this girl from my salon brings by these two little sisters for me to check out. of course, she just had to say they were inseparable at home, always playing with each other and that they look for each other if one's not in the same room with the other. *rolls eyes and sighs* so, naturally, i couldn't be Big Bad Delena and rip the two sisters apart only to toss one into the wild that is my apartment, let her get used to it for a month, and then rip her away only to toss her in with *m*'s anti-social freakazoid cat loki, and his dowager empress bitch, her highness ashlee.
what? i'm not that cruel...
so i took them both home.
...i said i wasn't cruel. i never said i wasn't a sucker.
of course our mafia twins, andrew and harley, were all goose-eyed and puffed up. like they'd never seen a kitten before. hell, it wasn't too long ago that they were the runts of the house. glanze, *mj*'s cat, got all insecure and kept trailing around her daddy. "daddy, daddy. look at me, i'm cuuute. daddy. daddy! you still love me, right? daddy. ...daddy...?" and mookie, our king of the crow's nest, was just like, "*sniff, sniff* hmm, too small to play with, too small to annoy me. whatever."
i'm waiting for them to tell me their names, but after one night of games such as, "FEET ARE EVIL! THE FEET MUST DIIIIIIE!" and "DEATH FROM ABOVE!!!" *plop on delena's sleeping head from the headboard* i'm thinking that the tri-color sister will be dubbed "Ling," short for "Chitterling," which is, so i am told, a Minor Demon of Annoyance. don't let her cuteness fool you. she's evil.
i still don't know what ling's sister's name is, although if she keeps up as she is, she might very well be "Azrael," if not "Andariel." greeeat...both my fuzzy feline children will be named after demons.
heh. demon children...
of course, one of the myriad girls in my salon was trying to find homes for kittens her horny-ass cat had given birth to a couple of months ago. so, naturally, she offered me kittens.
now, i had not wanted kittens. and i had originally not wanted two felines to begin with. however, *m* had seen a kitty at the adoption center that totally suckered him, and we just started operating under the assumption that we would be living with four felines in our house.
so this girl from my salon brings by these two little sisters for me to check out. of course, she just had to say they were inseparable at home, always playing with each other and that they look for each other if one's not in the same room with the other. *rolls eyes and sighs* so, naturally, i couldn't be Big Bad Delena and rip the two sisters apart only to toss one into the wild that is my apartment, let her get used to it for a month, and then rip her away only to toss her in with *m*'s anti-social freakazoid cat loki, and his dowager empress bitch, her highness ashlee.
what? i'm not that cruel...
so i took them both home.
...i said i wasn't cruel. i never said i wasn't a sucker.
of course our mafia twins, andrew and harley, were all goose-eyed and puffed up. like they'd never seen a kitten before. hell, it wasn't too long ago that they were the runts of the house. glanze, *mj*'s cat, got all insecure and kept trailing around her daddy. "daddy, daddy. look at me, i'm cuuute. daddy. daddy! you still love me, right? daddy. ...daddy...?" and mookie, our king of the crow's nest, was just like, "*sniff, sniff* hmm, too small to play with, too small to annoy me. whatever."
i'm waiting for them to tell me their names, but after one night of games such as, "FEET ARE EVIL! THE FEET MUST DIIIIIIE!" and "DEATH FROM ABOVE!!!" *plop on delena's sleeping head from the headboard* i'm thinking that the tri-color sister will be dubbed "Ling," short for "Chitterling," which is, so i am told, a Minor Demon of Annoyance. don't let her cuteness fool you. she's evil.
i still don't know what ling's sister's name is, although if she keeps up as she is, she might very well be "Azrael," if not "Andariel." greeeat...both my fuzzy feline children will be named after demons.
heh. demon children...
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