what's that word again?

from the oxford-delena dictionary

revelation (n):

1. something revealed or disclosed, esp. a striking disclosure, as of something not before realized.
2. an enlightening or astonishing disclosure
3. communication of knowledge to a person or humankind by a divine or supernatural agency
4. something delena had the other day that knocked her on her mental ass


i am not what you think i am.

there's been a lot of self-discovery here at iGoddess lately, and it's been Funkaliciously phenominal. i will continue to soar above vistas that i have only heretofore dimly imagined, and anything i learn about myself and the world around me will only propel me further, faster.

however...

i realized something about myself the other day that floored me. for the longest, i've been surrounded by people telling me they applauded or admired me because i am courageous and unrestrained, that i jump headlong into challenges and opportunities where others quail at the sidelines. and i have believed this of myself, and it has been somewhat of a source of arrogance for me, i'll admit. i've owned that arrogance, and it manifested as frustration for those who would stand on the sidelines and refuse to make the jump and yet had the audacity to armchair quarterback my own decision to leap.

i've lately come to learn the difference between really jumping, and the playacting i've been doing up until now.

and i know, lately i haven't really been divulging a whole lot of detail about what's been going on in my life. part of that is because i'm living in my head a lot right now and spilling it onto iGoddess where i know it's safe. the other part is because i'm not quite ready yet to say much. i can say something of the relationship department, however. in fact, it's going quite well. that's part of what i've been chewing on. another part of it is work. lately it's really gone to the dogs (yes, pun intended) and corporate is really starting to micromanage and armchair quarterback to destructive degrees. really destructive. this past saturday, i almost walked out on my job.

i've come too far and learned too much to allow myself to stay in such a toxic environment. *m* will remain my last experience with becoming polluted to saturation with toxicity. i look back on those entries now, on how i felt and how i came across to my friends and family, and it embarrasses me. i'm so sorry i spread that poison around, seriously. i apologize for it, deeply. and i will not go there ever again. lately, in the salon, it's been poisonous. especially with the new things i've learned --and learned about myself-- sometimes even just walking into the salon and picking up on all that negativity makes me physically ill. and it saddens me, because i used to adore my job. but the physical demands of grooming are enough. pile on nausea and lower GI problems because the environment is so toxic i'm physically sick?

yeah, something's gonna give.

emotionally, however, i haven't let it touch me. i've been the warm little center of my universe, creating each day in my own image and walking out untouched by the chaos in there. kind of like at passover, the Angel of Chaos passeth over me. but the negativity is still there to wade through, and it still affects the technicalities of my job. not to mention politics are threatening my actual position there. i'm under investigation right now, actually, because they need a fall guy.

all these things, however, have forced me to do things like look at my goals, to take certain risks, and make decisions that i normally wouldn't have. and it's all totally outside my field of vision. i know i said that "outside the box" is just outside of our own insecurities. well, i finally decided to be truly courageous and not just step outside the box, but to toss the whole thing out the window and walk in landscapes alien to my life experience. it's terrified me, but it's been exhilarating, too.

i'm probably being silly, but that's how i feel right now. this isn't a joke, and this isn't play. this is my reality, and the momentum is intimidating and uncomfortable. apparently i'm not as cavalier, headlong, and daring as i thought. looking back, when i decided to go ahead and do something, i'd been thinking about it, digesting it, playing out scenarios in my mind, getting used to the idea long before deciding anything.

and i always made sure i knew how i felt about it and made sure i was sure...then i "dove headlong," only after all that, there wasn't much daring diving on at that point. it was a calculated jump complete with safety net and parachute, and an escape backup plan.

and there was no solid commitment, so no consequences if i failed. i couldn't lose. all the risk and danger had been scrubbed by the time i moved on anything, using that method.

this version of goal-setting --of declaring what i want, setting those goals high enough to make me actually nervous, and setting a time limit on them-- is serious Headlong Jumping, and the real thing scares the shit out of me...which is probably why i eliminated all danger and risk from the process.

well, i used to, anyway...

perhaps i should make Headlong Jumping into my own personal sport...

what's that word again?

from the oxford-delena dictionary...

theme song (n)

1. an oft-repeated song in a musical play that is identified with the work or one of its characters
2. a melody in an operetta or musical comedy so emphasized by repetition as to dominate the presentation
3. an expression, comment, or subject of conversation that a person or group uses habitually
4. a thing delena often uses to quickly describe where she's at in life


a lot of people have particular favorites when it comes to music. lately it's come to my attention just how ecclectic i really am. in one day, i can listen to a dozen different genres of music, each of them distinct. and while this is nothing special, what i do think as special about it is what it says about me.

"because," she says with a joking curve at one corner of her mouth, "it's all about me..."

i love being ecclectic, out-of-the-box, unable to fit into any one category...as juxtapositional as a Compassionate Loving Trickster iGoddess Daughter of Lilith.

one thing that i've been saying a lot, on a daily basis even, is, "wow, i love my life!"

and i mean it.

every syllable.

the secret really isn't a secret at all, but it's something we all have to learn for ourselves: all we have is Now. the only place to find true happiness is Now.

true happiness.

contentment, satisfaction, joy, esteem, respect, excitement, love, knowledge, peace...inside and out. between ourselves, and with others. in groups, in pairs. ecstatic passion for everyOne and everyThing. the same ecstatic, lusty bliss for grass, velcro, and a lamp post as for a Funky groovemate. the same orgasmic satisfaction you feel at the first luscious sip of a perfect chai latte, extended also toward global warmers, wife-beaters, and PVC pipe.

kill it with kindness and love it to death.

i'm beginning to understand in leaps and bounds. as if my mind were merely a seed up until now, it has opened wide and blossomed exponentially. for the first time ever --on sunday-- i felt shame and unease at the realization that i had reveled in my enemies' misfortune.

i was uncomfortable in the knowledge that i still considered people as enemies.

i was disturbed knowing i took actual pleasure in their heartache and karmic debts being cashed in. which meant, of course, that i still harbored grudges and some anger and sense of victimization, somewhere deep inside, over how they wronged me. granted, i used to operate from a place i had named The Darkness, which was just another name for a void inside us created by insecurity and incompleteness within ourselves. the only way to fill it is by ourselves with ourselves. and i had, but on some level i was still operating from those negative forces that fill that void with Darkness.

i realized it was another burden weighing me down, something i needed to turn into pumice stone and watch float away down the River Funk.

so i did. i took a day and uprooted those negative things that were sapping my Funkarama Bootyliciousness, turned them into pumice, and watched them float away. i have way more interesting things to be concentrating on, much tastier and more exciting events in my life upon which i could be spending my time. who cares about former enemies? they're just human beings, just like me, and we're all one brotherhood of man sharing all the world, as lennon used to say.

besides, without them and their small-minded viciousness, i never could have grown beyond the petty peevishness of their rat race. thanks in part to them, i have blossomed. i will forever feel a deep gratitude toward them; they led me to reject how i've always lived my life and jarred me into a new mentality, a new approach to the universe.

not only am i having fun with this whole new aspect to dating, but i'm meeting a great group of men on a wholly different (read: "superior") level than what i've seen before now. they're affirming my faith in the male of the species, actually, with their intelligence, manners, chivalry, wit, and appreciation for the values and qualities i value, as well. and they appreciate me, and they show it, for which i always make a point to thank them. i have a wonderful career filled with people who not only appreciate me, but shower me with appreciation and affirmation. my family continues to be endlessly wonderful. new and wonderous opportunities are all but throwing themselves at my feet. and the universe continues to shower me with blessings.

my life, in a word, rocks.

and so i give you, beauty and truth fans, my new theme song as of late. i know the video's cheesy, but it's also whimsical. and what else are we here at the pronoiac iGoddess if not appreciative of the whimsical and off-kilter?

what's that word again?

confused (adj.)

1. chaotic; jumbled
2. being unable to think with clarity or act with understanding and intelligence
3. lacking logical order or sense
4. what the male of the species is
5. the state in which delena finds herself whenever dealing with the male of the species


you know what i find most frustrating about being delena? simply this: men within a decade of my age are too immature and mentally dull to keep up with me. the upside? it lets me know i am nose and tail above the crowd, so far above the status quo that i see in color while the unwashed masses see in black and white. the downside? considering a man even as young as 35 is too old for me as far as my dad's concerned, my intelligence and maturity condemn me to a solitary existence.

this, in a word, sucks.

i read something once upon a time that compared women like me to the lucious, perfect, tasty fruit at the very top of a very tall tree. it wasn't so much that men didn't prefer that gorgeous fruit, so much as the simple fact it was so hard to reach. so they would pick the fruit closer to the ground and easier within reach. this, however, had a twofold negative result: the men were okay with their fruit, but not satisfied or content; and the fruit at the very top of the tree wondered what the fuck was wrong with them that they could be so wonderful, yet be withering on the branch.

i've been told --simply within the month of may-- that 1.) i am unattainable and "too much" to keep, 2.) someone couldn't get past just trying to get me into bed and keeping me there, and 3.) that i'm "just not" what someone else was looking for. i think the third statement was the most fair, honestly. but, dispensing with the "they're just stupid not to appreciate you" sort of opinion, what the absolute fuck is wrong here? is it me? where are the chivalrous, intelligent, mature, open-minded men with backbones born in the late 70's? i can't be so rare that i'm unique. i just can't.

this would be undermining my self-confidence if i wasn't possessed of my naïve faith in fairytale love.

who needs a list of "must haves/can't stands" when simply being close to my age, mature enough to keep up with me, intelligent enough to challenge me, and a chivalrous knight-errant at heart is a tall enough order?

what's that word again?

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what's that word again?

from the oxford-delena dictionary

transition
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.

what's that word again?

from the oxford-delena dictionary

woman
n.

1. the female human being (distinguished from man)
2. an adult female
3. feminine quality or aspect; womanliness
4. that mysterious creature who, of tender heart and gentle spirit, captures the imagination
5. a philosophy unto herself
6. (v) (as in to be woman) the continuing struggle of self-discovery
7. so vastly different from a man in all ways as to be a separate species entirely



i used to joke that God made Man first. after all, you gotta have a rough draft before the finished masterpiece.

now, i've commented before on how different men and women are. finally and at long last, i've met someone who has actually motivated me to climb out of my mental rut and educate myself on those differences. for once, i actually care about those differences...and bridging them. last night, in keeping with this newfound concern i have for the differences between the sexes, i asked my dad for advice.

"okay, honey, what kind of advice?" he asked.

"well," i said, "how to talk to a man."

"directly," he said. of course, he went on to say other things. those things were in direct keeping with what i had learned in that book, love & respect, that i mentioned a couple posts ago. however, one thing dad said was that a woman talks in circles. he also said that you can ask a woman "what's wrong?" and she'll say something to the effect of, "if i have to tell you, then you just don't care about me." of course, his response to this was, "...which is bullshit."

i disagree. the female mind works very differently from the male version. she is always thinking of how she can make the lives easier of the person or people she loves, especially her partner. she is always thinking of how to please him/them. if something were bothering him, she would put forth the work, effort, and time to figure out what was bothering him just as she does to figure out what he likes, where he'd like to go out to eat tonight, what his routine is when he wakes up or gets home, et cetera. she likes to know everything she can about him, because knowing him is one of the ways she powerfully shows how deeply she loves him.

the female mind is also always asking, "does he love me the way i love him? would he do for me the things i do for him?" of course, when the answer is no, then the female mind and heart are deeply hurt. it's not "bullshit," it's the female mind, deep as the waters beneath the tranquil surface of the sea, and twice as unexplored.

men can put forth effort to learn how to speak to us, however. it's not difficult, or illegal, but it does take effort.

now, i've been putting what i've learned into practice with *m*, and so far i daresay it's been making a lot of headway. i love him, therefore i'm going to try to learn how to speak male by reading "male to recognizable english" dictionaries when i find them. i fervently wish he would make the same effort for me.

like any woman, all i want is all i give.

lately there's been a lot of social and political bullshit flying around *m*'s office, of which he is the last and final of four targets. two years ago, during the sheriff election, he and three other men were leading roles in supporting and voting for the other guy. now, only *m* is left in the force, and they're doing everything they can to push him out. it's *m*'s own version of the Summer of Funky Kali Love.

well, they've succeeded, and he's put in his letter of resignation today. last night, when i told my dad (a cop as long as i've been alive) what was happening, his advice was to stay, to go on record, and then begin the process of leaving. otherwise, he said, the implications can and will ruin any chance he ever has of picking up his career in the future. i, being a woman who loves her man and (now) knows a man's work is part of his identity, became extremely worried for his sake.

i emailed him about it and gave him my dad's email address. i begged him to email my dad and see what he had to say. i begged him. i said --twice-- "i am begging you, please do this." i even said that it would make me happy if he did, that it would put me at ease.

he said no.

now, it's not that he didn't take my dad's advice that hurts. it's not that he went ahead and set things in motion which we won't feel the repercussions for quite some time. it's not even that he didn't do what i wanted him to.

what cuts to the core is that i begged him to do a simple thing --just send my dad an email-- and he wouldn't do it. i begged him.

do i seem like a person who would beg for anything?

yesterday i woke up and realized that i was finally taking the first steps up and out of this Void of nonFunk. by no means was i out of it, but i could feel i was slightly "higher" than how low i've been lately. i made a few decisions that i've been stressing over lately, and i actually felt like i was ready to make those decisions. of course, dinner with my parents always helps, and i felt fantastic after an evening with them.

spending time with them always makes me feel so charged, so loved and confident and so much better.

when i woke up this morning and read *m*'s email refusal to my request, that shaky confidence fell. i was on the brink of tears all day. dogs struggling and being difficult on my table, which normally leaves me nonplussed (unless it's just a real shit of a day), had me using all my willpower to simply remain stoic instead of dissolving into a frustrated puddle of hopeless tears right there in the salon.

*m*'s seriously thinking of filing a lawsuit because of the final straw in this whole stupid fiasco. to me, the "last straw" was over sticks and stones. namecalling. yes, i know to a man, "integrity" is as much his definition as "motherhood" would be to me, and attacking his integrity is just as insulting, degrading, and undermining as when my bio-mom said i should never have been a mother and li'l *c* was better off without me. to this day, it still hurts and angers me. but if i filed a lawsuit over every defamation of character i've endured, i'd be in litigations until fuckin' doomsday.

i'm uprooting my life for this man, giving up being near everything i hold dear. i'm going to be the breadwinner, seeing as how he's resigning from the police force and is taking a significant pay cut in his new job. every problem, headache, and crisis that comes from this lawsuit is going to be just as much mine as it will be his. i'm throwing my lot in with a man who cannot even do one thing when his woman is on her knees begging for him to do it.

to me, this doesn't just tell me he didn't want to. to my female mind and heart, it tells me he doesn't hold me in high enough regard, doesn't respect me or love me enough to do something for me even though it is difficult.

how many things have i done, am i planning to do, and will do in the future for him even though i find them terrifying, intimidating, difficult, humiliating, financially near-impossible, or just plain unpleasant? how can i know that i can come to him and feel confident i'll get my needs met, that i'm safe asking him for things, when begging him gets nothing?

what little confidence i had is gone. this isn't reassuring to me that i'm doing the right thing, moving. i can't ask him for things. i've learned now that i just can't, and it's not like this was the first time i tried, either. i still don't know how to talk to him. he has enough burdens right now, i would hate to add one more. but my confidence that my heart is safe with him is pretty shaky right now.

if he begged me for anything --anything-- he knows i would drop everything and already be thinking of ways to meet his request even before the words are completely out of his mouth. when he asks me for things, to do things, to go places, even when i don't want to, the word "no" doesn't even cross my mind. it just doesn't. he asks, and i say yes. i love him. instantly giving him what he wants, simply to make him happy, is all i'm thinking of.

i begged him, and he couldn't do one thing. a simple email, even if only to humor me, and he couldn't even do that. how is it going to be when we're actually under the same roof?

what's that word again?

from the oxford-delena dictionary

hidden
adj.

1. concealed, obscure, covert
2. concealed from sight, prevented from being seen or discovered
3. obscured from knowledge or exposure
4. what many of delena's truths have been until now


so today i did it. in a moment of distraction, of total non-paying attention, i slipped up and used the words "our" and "goals" together in the same sentence. i've been so careful to only use inclusive words like "we" and "our" only around *m*, *cc*, and *mj*, for obvious reasons. anywhere else, i've said, "*m* and i," or, "last week with *m*." discussing ownership or anything else regarding this new life of mine, i've avoided calling anything "ours."

i've kind of been refusing to refer to or even look at *m* and delena as a single unit.

but i went out with *v* tonight for dinner and a movie, and she happened to ask how long i had until the move. "beginning of october i leave," i said. we talked a bit more, then i heard the baleful words come out of my mouth: "yup. i'm not sure how close it'll be, but the first week of october's our goal."

it didn't hit me for over an hour just how fucking huge that was, or how disturbing.

of course, all day long all i could think of was the future. and not just any future, but the best possible future.

i realized something else tonight, driving home. it's funny. dancing queen used to be my theme song, but that was also back when i actually was seventeen. i just kept it because i couldn't find anything else fitting. but i've really liked my life by billy joel for quite some time. i always end up playing it five, six, ten times in a row and singing it at the top of my lungs in the car.

it's my new theme song, gods damn it all.


and other things have been hidden until tonight.

i was in an absolutely fantastic mood tonight. i was driving home feeling like the world was mine. all was right with my world. the word "goodbye" was even on the tip of my metaphorical tongue, watching portland speed past me as i drove down the highway.

then tonight i finally got to talk to *m* after a few days of nothing, for stupid phone company reasons i shall not go into at this time. but i've been in an increasingly frustrated and foul mood because of my *m* deprivation. so i caught him on the online messenger and we talked. and my foul mood worsened instead of dissipated like i had expected it to. i watched myself get increasingly dry-humored, blunt, and bitter the more i talked to him. even as i didn't want to stop talking to him --because it's been days since we talked and we've never gone a night without talking-- i really wanted to just be refreshingly, cathartically, unrestrainedly mean and nasty tonight.

i was in a bad mood the entire time he was up here vacationing. my mood continued in idaho. it vanished the moment my plane took off. but tonight it came back in full force so quickly that i'm forced to admit it never disappeared to begin with. it merely went below the surface.

i don't get it, but it's something i have to figure out. i'm so run-down and un-Funkified i'm getting sick.

what's that word again?

from the oxford-delena dictionary

ambivalent
adj.

1. exhibiting or feeling uncertainty or fluctuation
2. the feeling within an individual of positive and negative feelings toward the same person, object, or action, simultaneously drawing them in opposite directions
3. the emotional state of juxtaposition
4. something i'm feeling so strongly right now it's actually tiring me out



i've given up trying to get greggo to see. some people are just determined to argue for their limitations. i really can't blame him for how sick he is. i used to be just as fucked up, and more.

i've sat here for almost two hours debating between myselves whether or not to blog, what to blog about, and then i remembered today was "what's that word again?" and them deliberated over what word to choose. i'm tired, cranky (because i'm tired), fed up, malcontented, restless, tired, impatient, excited, eager, hopeful, hesitant, unsure, tired, , afraid, adventurous...and in general about to pass out from the emotional exhaustion.

i drive around this town and realize all over again how fucking much i'm in love with it. i feel in the marrow of my bones and the crux of my soul, all over again, the spell i cast years ago that bound me to this place using my blood, my tears, and the ashes of beloved possessions of mine --love letters-- i'd burned in sacrifice. i'd severed bonds i valued, in order to create even stronger bonds that now tie me to this place.

usually, the sensation of them goes unnoticed, a feeling i'm so well-accustomed to that i don't think about it anymore. but lately i've felt them. they grow red-hot until bile and acid rise like a geyser to the back of my throat. they twinge at my third eye until the headache is unbearable. they pull at my ovaries until i lose my balance, gasping and sweating and pale from actual pain. they clench around my heart and my throat.

it hurts.

what's that word again?

from the oxford-delena dictionary

stoked!
adj.

1. extreme excitement
2. totally revved about something
3. uncontainable passion and/or jubliation
4. what delena is right now, and what every single avid reader and fan of the Funk should be!!


delena got a car!! yes, beauty and truth fans, iGoddess has a vehicular mascot!!!

i'd love to write more, and i will, just not now. from now until probably saturday afternoon, iGoddess is going dark. i was in Bend, OR this weekend getting my car, and tonight i'll be somewhere, and tomorrow night i'm taking said new car to visit *m*, which is a nine-hour drive. or, well, four hours if you drive the way he does...

but yeah, so i'll be unavailable of the internet for the next few days. i'll be home friday, but i'll be working until closing time, and then i'll be dropping dead to sleep so i can then open up shop the following morning.

literally.

so yeah, i'll be wishing for death, but i'm telling myself it's worth it. =)

laters.

what's that word again?

from the oxford-delena dictionary

manamana!
(?)

1. a random exclamation when you really don't have anything to say
2. a silly word called in a singsong voice, customarily used to see if anyone around you "gets it"

3.

what's the word?

from the oxford-delena dictionary

wild
adj.

1. living in a state of nature; not tamed or domesticated
2. growing or produced without cultivation or the care of civilization
3. uncivilized or barbarous
4. unrestrained, untrammeled, or unbridled (as in by reason or prudence)
5. (informal) intensely eager or enthusiastic
6. delena


pronoia is all about making the oxymoron an intimate beloved. the art of pronoia is about a lot of things, the basic idea being the universe is conspiring to shower you with blessings. that the universe is wildly and innocently in love with you. that an infinite number of secret helpers are working right now to help you become the phenominal masterpiece you are destined to become.

i work with exhilarating beauty, crazy wisdom, outrageous goodness and generous freedom. my secret allies are benevolent pranksters, lyrical logicians, chivalrous rock stars, macho feminists, lunatic saints and mystical scientists. and we all work with insurrectionary love to overturn the world rightside up so "love one another shall be the whole of the law" shall Be What Is.

sacred janitors, wild humility, joyful solemnity, bohemian revolutionary freedom fighter. it's all oxymoron and a totally crazywhacked, funked-out mindjob.

and it works.

a few weeks ago i resolved to resort to exotic measures to rip me out of a rut. one of the things i promised to do was make a collage of all the neuroses and negativity i've had the un-pleasure to sample over the years and on midsummer have myself a merry little bonfire. and i did. i wrote a list and printed it out, then cut up the phrases and placed them in a box. i then wrapped and decorated that box with big, fat black letters:

***ACHTUNG, BABY!***

DELENA'S

F.L.A.M.I.N.G.

inner

APOCALYPSE!

then i bunched up a whole freaking wad of newspaper --the irony not lost upon me-- and set it on fire in my hands. only when the flames grew dangerous did i drop the entire thing into the fire pit. and on top of that, i cast my Old-Delena-in-a-Box upon the flames and watched it burn, baby, burn.

burn to a fucking char! ashes, ashes, we all fall ecstatically in blinding love!

i let it smoulder.

i let it cool.

then the lid was removed and i let the wind carry the ashes far and away from me.

and actually, it didn't even take that long. as it was burning, the box filled with the old me bubbling and blistering and turning black and illegible, i could feel its last feeble grip on me lose its hold and slip away. there was no thunderous breaking of chains, no sudden burst of freedom. it was like spider silk softly coming apart, like the last trace of fog fading beneath the strength of the morning sun, like the whisper of a door opening as you let someone in.

i breathed deep, and sighed, and smiled. "feel better, hon?" said *mj*.

i laughed to myself. "i do, actually. i do."

this afternoon i finally wrote that Funky Love Letter to those loose ends i promised i was tying up this coming week. i wrote it in wild and euphoric gratitude. i gave heartfelt apologies for soul-ache or heart-sickness i may have imparted, without explanation or expectation. i sent it without ego, but with everlasting thanks and joyful, pronoiac gratitude. i love them more than i love them. their harsh lessons and ostracism was exactly what i needed, exactly when i needed it.

for the first time in my life i truly understand what humility really means. "without ego," as in with no trace of delena pride, and i found a fucking wealth of treasure just waiting to be discovered. through love --ecstatic, wildcrazy, Funky LOVE-- i am freer and truly wild.

unbridled.

irrepressible.

lady godiva on her horse galloping through coventry, her loose hair flowing behind her.

ecstatic.

orgasmic.

aphrodisiacal and pardisiacal.

gorgeously genius.

wealthy anarchist.

lyrical liberationist.

Funkywild, crazywhacked, fiercely tender, ironically sincere, magically Funkalicious Me.

what's the word?

from the oxford-delena dictionary

dreamer
n.

1. one who dreams
2. a visionary
3. someone guided more by ideals and higher aspirations rather than practical considerations
4. someone delena met today


i spent my day off with a friend of mine from the salon, *v*. she's been "one of the other groomers" or "one of the other girls at the salon," on iGoddess, but today she's earned a name. we've always been friendly, and from the very beginning she reached out and tried to make me her friend. of course i was open to it, and she's absolutely great.

she invited me to her house and we played videogames, ate chinese takeout, and drank energy drinks and watched movies. i brought my xbox 360, MY baby. i bought a new game, an extra controller, and signed up for EB/GameStop's card just because of today.

it was worth every shiny penny.

she let me into her life, and i loved what i saw. she was excited to show me what she'd only shared with her husband, her life of dreams and goals and passions. i met a family of huge dreamers. shel silverstein's lilting words kept singing in my head as i spent my day in her home and her life, as i listened to the glorious trilling of her daughter's small voice, as i joked and laughed with her and her husband. . .

if you are a dreamer, come in. if you are a dreamer, a wisher, a liar, a hoper, a prayer, a magic-bean-buyer, if you're a pretender, come sit by my fire. for we have some flax-golden tales to spin. come in, come in...

she's certainly a dreamer, a wisher, a hoper, a prayer. and they're not afraid to dream BIG! like, BIG big! she created a scrapbook, a work-in-progress, of all the dreams and wishes she has, all the things she sees for herself and her family. all the wonderful places she wants to see, the health she wants to be in, the "financial freedom" she talks about with diamonds in her eyes and glitter on her tongue.

but she believes.

it was beautiful. and she has faith she can touch and hold and smell and taste and live and sleep those dreams in their waking life. and he believes it, too. they're so perfectly matched in their dreams and aspirations, and in their fearlessness to believe they can dance along the milky way.

"i want a lamborghini!" she said in the car as we were driving me home, and started talking about what color it would be. she couldn't decide between two colors. it was all but already hers, and her husband smiled and said, "you can have both."

i smiled to myself. i want a 1970 VW squareback, navy blue. or that awesome 1970's pea green everyone hates but i love. or a 1967 chevy pickup, canary yellow, because yellow is such a happy color. that's as far as my thoughts of cars has gone, aside from one day regaining my status as a BMW owner, because by the gods how those cars handle...

but compared to *v*'s dreams, mine are so modest, and as we sat on her bed looking at her scrapbook, i realized the components of my dreams are the stuff of her reality.

as is.

she has a loving relationship with a man who values her. they're so good and generous to each other, and yes it takes work, but it's there. being her girlfriend, i'm let in on those confidences women share with each other about their lives, so i know it takes work. but work accomplished in love is not work, it's a gift given freely. and they give, every minute of every day. she has a beautiful little girl full of life and energy and those bright, shiny things that children are made of. she knows where she is, what she wants, and she has a family she helped build herself.

family is my passion. i've yearned for a family my whole life, even going so far as to dream of the picket fence, toys in the yard, family dog in the backseat with the children and little league gear. i tried so hard to foster that with big *c*, but he would have none of it. my bio-parents knew nothing of family. i changed my last name in order to solidify a sense of kinship with people who had built their own family together. i adopted my parents as wholeheartedly as they adopted me. i take my honor as a sister and daughter seriously, and love my family with joy and passionate belief.

as much passion as *v* has for her own dreams. but there was something about her family that made me ache inside, if only just a little, in that little place in my heart that still kinda dreams about that sort of family of my very own. i miss the excited treble cry of, "mommy!" ringing like bells and birdsong in my ears as a grinning bundle of three year-old comes tumbling into my arms. i miss it with an ache i hesitate to go near, because i know if i touch the tip of it i'll feel the entire submerged iceberg. i know it seems backward, but it's the reason i don't call li'l *c* as often as i want to, because that excited shout --"mommy!"-- hurts exactly as much as it heals.

my dreams are very modest. i want freedom, which i have. i want love, which i also have. i want to be surrounded by a family who loves me, supports me, and builds me up --which i have. i want happiness and the Funk, which i have in spades. as of right now, dear Funky Yayness, my life is perfect and only getting better every single day.

you could say i've accomplished my dreams and i hold them and live and breathe and taste and sing them every moment of every day. i thank the universe a dozen times every day, and a dozen every night, for the blessings it showers upon me every moment. it gives me exactly what i need exactly when i need it. so. . . i hope one day i need a family of my own like *v*'s.

it's this little dream i have. . .

what's the word?

from the oxford-delena dictionary

crowing
v.

1. to utter the characteristic cry of a rooster
2. to boast or exult
3. an inarticulate and jubilacious cry of pleasure
4. something delena's doing on the inside, even though on the outside she merely looks like the proverbial cat who caught the equally proverbial canary


by the Cosmic Jiggy of Funky Wowness who made me, just...just oh, wow.

*stunned silence*

just. . .

he's wonderful.

what's that word again?

from the oxford-delena dictionary

amazing
adj.

1. surprising greatly
2. inspiring vast amounts of astonishment in a positive fashion
3. what trying on delena's life feels like


this afternoon i got off work exactly at 13:00, as scheduled. my 08:00 appointment stood me up, but it worked out because a walk-in low-shed came in an hour later. i received nothing but compliments and courtesy from customers today, face-to-face and over the phone. one particular trouble customer that everyone else said was a total heifer was beautifully pleasant to me. i clipped her yorkie and she left with a smile. customers requested appointments, but at my convenience, when the shop wouldn't be so busy. they asked my opinion on particular issues regarding their pets and made me feel i was the only one in the world qualified to answer their questions. all the other girls in the shop were stressed out and griping and trying really hard not to snip at each other...

...and i was the warm, juicy center everyone crowded around. well, not really. no one wanted to be around me because i was too happy to be brought down by their snipe and venom, drama and politics.

i'm finally back down to a five day work week, after an incident last week when i tried to get friday off and was called in anyway. after memorial day, when i lost all feeling in my legs with two hours of my shift yet to go, and then woke up and cried tuesday morning because the back pain was crippling, then wiped my tears and got ready for work anyway...yeah, i was ready for a break. i really don't cry much, and already i've been reduced to tears twice in the last few months. but i came in, and was thanked profusely. my effort has been noticed and much appreciated. i was given two days off back to back but i'm keeping my full-time rap. i'm finally being put into the system as qualifying for benefits (thank the Wild Divine). i made an extra thousand dollars for the shop last week, which is awesome.

i ask, and the universe answers. actually, i've been doing quite well with my homework from mr. brezsny last wednesday, aggressively searching for the information that will help change my mind about two of my most long-standing worldviews. my two new ideas are rapidly turning from head-thoughts into heart-beliefs, and it's a wonderful thing.

remember that idaho boy i mentioned earlier? well, quite unlike my past pattern of keeping it to myself and not caring about the opinions of the people around me, i've been keeping my family appraised of the situation down to the pleasant details. remember what i said about thinking i might be ready for some company? companionship, friendship, chemistry...remember all that?

so far, the family likes what they hear. a lot, actually. he's decided to make the nine-hour trip this weekend so he can meet my parents, actually. this sits very well with my father, who is more protective than my bio-father ever was, and yet i not only accept it, but i accept it joyfully. the difference? respect. much respect, and love. of course, if my father says 'no,' then that'll be the end of the idaho boy, but i don't think it'll come to that. he's got a lot of points in his favor, according to my dad.

i'm almost giddy with anticipation, but i'm making sure to keep myself in check. the last thing i need is to get my head lost in the clouds again. i want to do everything right this time. for once, sheesh... i want to keep my feet on the ground. if my heart goes floating up in the stratosphere, i want a string firmly attached so i can rein it back in at need. it's one thing to surrender joyfully to the bombastic and funky Wild Jive and get down with my funky self, but it's quite another to be stupid. i refuse to be stupid.

and yet, already i can't help but look around and i'm imagining what it might look like through his eyes. it's like introducing a totally new part of me: my city. my world. it's as much myself as, say, my family, or my sanchez nose. but...i'm actually, truly considering letting someone in.

for the first time, ever.

the difference? i know i'm totally fantastic and complete unto myself. someone as wonderful as him could only enhance the living experience, but life is just as bombastic and Funky whether he's in my life or not, and my feet are sure beneath me. i don't need anyone to be my foundation. and that is the lesson.

he's coming on saturday. there's a spark inside me that could grow into something...well...something big. work is fantastic. the Funk continues to be its funkalicious self, and we groove to the rhythm together. i am secure within myself. my homework is coming along great, mr. brezsny. and do you know how it feels?

abso-fucking-lutely amazing.

what's that word again?

from the oxford-delena dictionary

tension
n.

1. intense, suppressed suspense, anxiety, or excitement
2. a strained relationship between individuals
3. a force tending to stretch or elongate something
4. a measure of such a force
5. something delena experiences on a daily basis nowadays...


there are all sorts of things going on in my head, many of which actually render me quite absent-minded. i've done everything from run the swinging door into someone's face at work, to forget portions of a "top dog" package at work (which is too much for what we do, i think, but what do i know?), to simply wander back to the same place a dozen times knowing i went there to get something but not knowing what on earth it was supposed to be.

but that's the result of a good kind of tension.

there's also the not-so-good tension that revolves around wanting to call in sick to work because, oh, i dunno...my back was so jacked up after sepuku sunday that i actually lost sensation in my legs for a few hours and only sheer will kept me somewhat mobile. that, and a lot of stoicism. some days i'd wonder how come i'm not a whimpering little sobbing ball on the floor, except i know it's simply because i've grown accustomed to what used to be crippling amounts of pain.

the situation at work has gotten to the point of blatant disregard for what i'm doing there, and how much i'm doing to make up for the slacker, the lack of manpower, and the sheer volume of customer demands. yet again today i open the shop only to find someone has erased my blocked-out time slots and written in yet another dog, thus overbooking me to a heretofore untold ricockulous degree. i was already overbooked, but that dog sent me into such stress levels i'm still dealing with stomach cramps four and a half hours after clocking out. the disrespect is outrageous.

i love what i do. i love what i do. i don't love the self-absorption, lack of intelligent thought, and disregard going on. especially not when it means that every single day i work, i'm overbooked and end up staying late, thereby being present for walk-ins and it's mandatory we take them. i get stuck, and my body does not have enough time to recover before i have to do it all again. one day off (especially when 95% of the time i'm called in anyway) is not enough.

and then there's the tension of...well, the tension of wondering, of hoping and laughing and anticipating and wondering. the tension of six hours on the phone, or four, each night and every night all week. the tension of knowing there's a line somewhere, but not knowing where it is or what will actually be considered crossing it. the tension of envisioning things to come and just...

it's like the movie crank. you ever seen that? it's like that. like a slamming shot of adrenaline that just won't quit.

what's that word again?

from the oxford-delena dictionary

amalgam
n.

1. a combination of diverse elements
2. a mixture
3. the most accurate word for all of delena's feelings right now


i actually sat here for about ten minutes trying to figure out what's that word again. tired? yes, but... accomplished? well, yeah, but... ah, satisfied! definitely, however...

*sigh*

it's just so many things. then it hit me: amalgam! yeah, that's it! it's that variety of tired that comes from completing very satisfying work. y'know, when your bones are water and your muscles quiver at their limit, your smile is a quiet effort and your head is hollow...yet it's not the kind of tired that leaves you wasted and empty, only filled larger than you were when you began?

yes, that's it. that's it completely.

i found out today that i pulled in twice as much money as projected, twice as much as the girls in my position. and i did more dogs. like, double-digits more. i had more add-ons (extras to include in the basic grooming package), more premiums (top-dollar grooms), everything.

i so rock!

of course, in order to rock as hard as me, you gotta work almost two weeks straight, have one day off, work another nine...close the salon back to back with opening it the next day...work overtime...come in on your days off...take the brunt when someone doesn't feel like coming in to work and she's booked solid (or overbooked). y'know, the usual.

we're down less than a skeleton crew over there, and everyone's feeling the hurt. it feels like i'm the only one working as much as i am over there, busting my back to the point of burning (my tailbone's on fire constantly now, and The Spot is in perma-spasm). i'm taking anti-inflammatories and painkillers when i abhore pharmaceuticals. it's a measure of the pain that i take them at all, and i know that. carpal tunnel syndrome has reared its ugly head this past week or so, and it got so bad i couldn't flow any energy at all out of my hands.

at all. that's never happened before.

but it's been good. i'm tired. by the Funky Ya-Ya, i'm so dang tired...but it's a good tired.

what's that word again?

from the oxford-delena dictionary

restless
adj.

1. characterized by or showing inability to remain at rest
2. unquiet or uneasy, as a person, the mind, or the heart
3. never at rest, perpetually agitated or in motion
4. without rest; without restful sleep
5. what delena's been lately


honestly, i don't get it. last night i couldn't settle down to save my life. i finally got to sleep around 01:30. and this is after taking melatonin and jeagermeister at, what, 22:30? i wanted to sleep. but i also wanted to stay up and watch a movie, read a book, figure out this stupid corner i've written myselt into with the heartbreaking work of staggering genius.

i wanted to call someone up and see if they wanted to hang out. it didn't matter who, either. i wanted to go take a drive, go fly a kite, go smoke a clove. i wanted to find some nice, mind-altering substances because i'd been on edge all day yesterday. sundays at work make me want to commit sepuku. they're horrible, horrible days. i almost actually cried at work yesterday. we just get so slammed, and i had three difficult descriptions (what people want us to do with their dogs) in a row that were all the same thing. every single one of my dogs went out late, some of them two hours late. the customer couldn't even complain in a civilized way, she had to be a fucking cunt about it, and then the manager lady took it out on me. she later said it wasn't that she was upset with me, she was more upset with the customer, but still. all i could think of was here i landed this fantastic job and now i'm going to get fired.

well, thank the Multi-versal Jiggy Snake i didn't get fired. thank all the Funk who made me. but still. sundays are horrible, and i just wonder where the fuck they all come from. don't they go to church or something? jeez...

and i still have that feeling of the unknown reality tsunami. It's coming. i don't know when It arrives or what It'll be or look like, but there's still that feeling. thank the Divine Wow it hasn't affected my appetite, otherwise i'd have to be upset.

but i kept getting up and wandering around the apartment early this morning. for the life of me, i couldn't figure out what to do with myself. i hate that. sometimes i still get the complete aversion to falling asleep, that vague and tiny dread of tomorrow. that desire to simply remain in the dark quietness of the middle of the night. the vague, sick, twisting feeling that i haven't done enough today, i've wasted what hours i had and i didn't do enough in them.

i've had that feeling for years, about night and sleep and bedtime. i wish i could say it's why i have such horrid insomnia, but i've had that for half my life -- literally. no, this vague the-tsunami-is-coming feeling is different. i can't stand being restless.

what's that word again?

from the oxford-delena dictionary

righteous indignation
n.
1. retribution, retributive justice, anger, and contempt combined with a feeling that it is one's right to feel that way
2. anger without guilt

enraged
adj.
1. marked by extreme anger

heartbroken
adj.
1. crushed with sorrow or grief

speechless
adj.
1. temporarily deprived of speech by strong emotion, etc.

all of them, dammit. there simply are no words.

man is a sick, cruel son of a bitch.

i hate people. this is well known. anyone that listens to me talk --or reads my blogs-- about customer service and working in that particular midden heap knows how i feel about the raging droves of ignorant and self-centered humanity. humans can be disgusting creatures.

*cc* just got a phone call from her friend that his wife was driving on the road and saw a bag of something tossed out the car window. it was then run over by a semi.

a kitten was thrown from the sack.

she pulled over and rescued the poor little orphan. the rest of his brothers and sisters were killed when the semi ran over them. his teeth are barely growing in, so he's probably not even fully weaned yet, and someone had the fan-fucking-tastic idea to bag 'em all up and toss them into traffic from a moving vehicle!

no thought about the animal shelter. no thought about neighbors who might want an adorable, playful little kitten. noooo, let's just throw them under the wheel of an eighteen wheeler, get rid of the whole problem!

she was so concerned about saving the survivor that she couldn't get a good look at the license plate of the cat killer and animal hater. gods-damned son of a syphillis-ridden whore. i hope he contracts a historical case of incurable anal seepage! i hope he goes home to find his wife in bed with his redneck best friend, his son's a crack-addict taking it up the ass for money, his daughter's doing it with the neighbor's dog on film, and someone's stolen his identity online and racked up $4000 in phone sex calls and two first class tickets from JFK to london-heathrow. i wish people could experience the exact same pain and cruelty they inflict on animals. then they'd know how it feels and how horrible it is!

i wish i could say that i instantly pray for the murderous assholes for their crimes against Life, but i'm not exactly fully immersed in pronoia just yet. my sense of helplessness, dismay, and frustration oftentimes get the better of me and i just want them to burn.

sick motherfucker. i hate humans!

i hate their cruelty and manifest destiny. i hate their prejudice and god complex, their top-of-the-foodchain ego and blind adherence to sexist dogma over practical reason. i hate their "me first" attitude and "now" generation that's really not a "new" thing at all. i hate their primitive religious wars and barbaric might-makes-right mentality. i hate corporate takeovers and political upheavals. i hate a race that produces environments that makes it totally acceptable for someone to toss a bag of brand new, innocent lives under the wheels of a semi truck.

it's murder, cruelty, and abomination of the highest order.

is there anyone in the portland-salem-vancouver area that can and would like to adopt a very young kitten tragically orphaned? email me (my email is available through my profile, the link's to the right), or leave a comment with your email address and i'll get back to you.

what's that word again?

from the oxford-delena dictionary

dog tired
adj.

1. utterly exhausted
2. worn out
3. that feeling delena gets coming home after an unexpected day at work


i got called in to work today, from 3pm until closing. i worked really hard today, actually, and i loved every minute of it. the pointer finger on my left hand is throbbing like hell because i gashed it deeply right at the second knuckle, my lower back is screaming, and my arms from my hands up to my elbows are agonizingly dry. you know that sting, when it feels like a thousand little paper cuts with lemon juice rubbed in?

yeah, they feel like that. after constantly being soaked and scrubbing with soaps --from oatmeal to almond to medicated to flea-treated-- they're drier than the sahara in summer. already they look like laundress' hands, red at the knuckles, swollen, wrinkled, and dry.

i love my job!!!!

no, seriously, that wasn't sarcasm. i really do. for every single pitfall in the grooming world, i have a remedy that fixes it right up. like, after friday when my entire body was screaming with a thousand varieties of pain, all i had to take were a few anti-inflammatories, some ibuprofen, melatonin to get me to sleep, and a shot of jeagermeister. that was the treatment all weekend, and it worked like a charm. i'll prolly do something similar tonight (she says as she nurses a hard cider while blogging...).

of course, i get to open up shop tomorrow, after closing the night before. yayfunjoy!

another good thing, though. as i was passing the office and waved good-night to the general manager, he called out, "i've been hearing you're doing a really good job!"

me: (stunned) "really? you hear about me?"
GM: "yup. i think the Union's gonna be calling us about you, saying that you need to slow down. making everyone else here look bad."
one of the closing groomers: "oh, she's terrible. just terrible." deadpan expression. "she had the entire shop cleaned up and was finished before we were done with our last dogs."
me: *devilish grin*
GM: "oh yes, been hearing many wonderful things about you."

i. LOVE. my. job!

gotta love the dog days of grooming.

what's that word again?

from the oxford-delena dictionary

pleased
adj.

1. experiencing or manifesting pleasure
2. feeling pleasurable satisfaction over something by which one measures their self-worth
3. what delena finally is when it comes to her life

i guess this is where i say the words i've been waiting a very long time to say: i have arrived! now, before you get your knickers in a twist, lemme finish.

when i say "i have arrived!" i don't mean that this is it, there's no more growth for me, no siree, i'm done, estoy listo! uh-uh. what i mean is that i have arrived at the place where i've been trying to get to for the past year. the place where i can look at myself in the mirror and know that i have it in me. i have It in ME. that certain something that says, "i'll always get up one more time than i'm knocked down," and which says it with that absolute, sparkle-in-its-eye confidence that's unshakable.

no more simply "surviving," like a flimsy tree in a storm, flapping this way and that, at the mercy of the storm. i've been a survivor, yes, but i've been so only because what doesn't kill you only delays the inevitable. i can't die from sadness, and believe me, i've tried. but now, i've established my place in the world, and it's a place i've chosen, and with which i'm ecstatically happy. for the first time in my life i feel like i know who i am, and it's not an identity dependant upon my relationship to anyone else. i am delena, and i stand alone as delena. i'm not delena-and-so-and-so.

i am delena, and complete unto myself. and i fucking kick ass.

three different times in the past ten years, i've worked at pet grooming salons. at my first job, the shop owner hated me and i was apprenticed to a groomer behind her back. i desperately wanted to learn, because even at 18 i knew that i couldn't be stuck in back-end, entry-level jobs forever. today at work, my manager and i were talking about the different aspects of the shop.

"see?" she said. "you're gonna be so easy, i can tell. i'm so excited!"

inside, i glowed. finally, all that shit i put up with at all three shops was finally putting up flowers. while the other new girl was figuring out how to blow dry a bichon frisé, the mgr and i were talking about different shampoos/rinses and how they, and grooming technology, have changed in the past ten years.

totally. i've so arrived. now i just need to keep going, hehe.