Sunday Scribblings: Secret Identity

He’s saving lives, I know he is.

He wouldn’t want you to know it of course, and I’m probably breaking several International treaties by mentioning it at all, but I don’t want him to be so misunderstood.

I’d like to say he uses his powers only for good. I’m sure all mothers would. But I can’t promise you what I don’t know. He slips away, through a rip in the fabric of time and space. He vanishes without a trace and you can turn the whole house upside down and never find him. But hours later, he comes sauntering out of a room you’ve checked a dozen times and he flops across the green plush sack, exhausted with a long day’s work.

Mind you, no matter how relaxed he seems, he’s never unaware. Let a strange set of footsteps sound on the stairs outside the apartment, and he’s 2 feet in the air and then POOF, only a cloud of well shed hair appears in the space he once occupied.

Friends jokingly call him “Snuffilupugus” because only Tag and I can ever see him, but I swear he’s real…. And so much more than a mere house cat. He’s Double-O Dobby, secret agent…. And somewhere right now, he’s sipping a dry martini and saving the world.

(see the tiny eyes in the dark... that's him)

Banditos For Peace

Today, I'm working a half day (joy!), after which I will drag myself over to the Westside to get my hairs did (more joy!) Post salon, I will drive down for a 2 hours session of Kundalini Yoga at the studio.

However my Saturday will not be nearly as lush.... as Tag and I will be participating in the "DisplaceMe" event sponsered by Invisible Children. IC is a grassroots organization, who with their film (of the same name) brought to light the plight of Ungandan children (known as "night commuters") who flee their villages at night in order to avoid being pressed into service as a soldier in the Lord's Resistance Army.

13 different cities across the US and over 61,000 people are participating in the Displacement (6,248 in Los Angeles alone).

Wanna spend your Saturday night making new friends, creating a community of people who care? Then please, come join us!

Taking Action

WHAT IS DENIM DAY IN LA?

In 1999 an Italian Supreme Court decision overturned a rape conviction because the victim wore jeans. The justices stated that the victim must have helped her attacker remove her jeans, from which they inferred consent. People all over the world were outraged. Wearing jeans became an international symbol of protest against erroneous and destructive attitudes about sexual assault. The Denim Day in L.A. protests here in Los Angeles, spearheaded by Peace Over Violence (formerly the Los Angeles Commission on Assaults Against Women), have evolved into an annual county-wide, highly publicized rape prevention education campaign.

Last year, over 250,000 individuals, 400 organizations and businesses and 49 cities in Los Angeles County signed up to support Denim Day in L.A. Thousands of men, women and youth wore jeans, posted rape prevention education materials, supported prevention programs by donating to the Dollars For Denim campaign and talked with friends and colleagues about rape myths and realities.

Even if you aren't wearing jeans today, or you don't live in Los Angeles... you can still make a difference.

There is no excuse and never an invitiation to rape.

Help Stop the Violence!

Toxic Tantrum

Tag and I have begun a month long detox. The 30 days are broken into 10 day segments, each with their own purpose, and thus their own dietary guidelines. However, for the entire 30 days some rules stand fast: No MSG, No High Fructose Corn Syrup, No Hydrogenated Oils. That’s all well and good. I can deal with all those. But there a few other policies in place for the long haul that are killing me. Those include: No Meat, No Dairy, No Sugars, No Alcohol. In short, the 4 staples of my diet. Oh shit!

The first 10 days are the “Elimination” cycle, designed to help break addictions to things like sugar and alcohol (also to caffeine, nicotine, and any over the counter medications). I knew going in that it would be challenging, and that addictions I didn’t even know I had would likely come up and bite me in the ass. Have to say… haven’t been wrong so far. However, I'm somewhat surprised by what I'm finding to be most difficult.

I was raised on fast food. My father worked odd hours and my mother was a busy career woman who didn’t have a lot of time or patience to cook for a finicky child. Burger King, on the other hand, promised that without trouble I could have it MY way, and thus we visited a lot. Partially due to laziness, and partially due to the time constraints of my overly-scheduled life, I have continued my less than stellar drive-thru diet. I know it’s not wise, but it's easy, (and oh the price we pay for “convenience.”)

However, I didn’t grasp that my attachment to fast food went far beyond mindless routine and MSG-addiction, and had an emotional compontent until the other night. I had received a disturbing email, at the end of a long drama-filled work day, on top of Day 3 of a killer headache. Although stoicism is not really my nature, I held it together through class and the long drive home. However, fatigue won out, and I found myself in my kitchen, blurting out the whole onslaught of woes in snotty sobs. I collapsed into Tag's arms with this final note: “And I just want some meat…. And a COKE.”

Some people find ice cream and chocolate to be their comfort foods. Others salve their injuries with coffee and cigarettes. But apparently my "woobie" is Combo meal #2. A world of solace can be found sipping 32 oz of syrupy carbonated sweetness as the softly purring motor of the car sings a lullaby. It fills a lonely place in my heart that fresh daikon sprouts and beet juice just can’t touch. And silly as it sounds, without that blanket of numbness that chemicalized beef provides, I’m being forced to face feelings that I have been stuffing down for a very long time.

I’m sure that there will be more writing, more thinking, more purging before my 30 day hell is all said and done. But until then, remember this:

The world might be a safer place if I could just get some “biggie fries” STAT. *sigh*

The Great Turtle Race!

Are you watching?

For more than 100 million years, leatherback turtles have graced our oceans. At an astonishing eight feet long and up to 2,000 pounds, they journey between continents and dive to incredible depths. But in the last 10 years, 95% of the leatherbacks in the Pacific Ocean have vanished, victims of human pressures.

The Leatherback Trust, Tagging of Pacific Predators, Conservation International, Costa Rica?s Ministry of Environment and Energy, and Yahoo! invite you to join the Great Turtle Race. Follow 11 leatherback turtles on a two-week journey as they swim from their nesting sites on Playa Grande beach in Costa Rica to the Galapagos Islands.

Tag is rooting for Saphira (as sponsored by the Bullis Charter School). I adore both Genevive & Billie..... but I also love to root for the underdog. So today I'm putting my cheering power behind Drexelina, who has managed to get herself all turned around on the beach and is heading in the wrong direction. Send her the positive vibes, won't you? That way, she can get herself back on track and headed towards her home in the Galapagos Islands.

Soundtrack of My Life

My horoscope made comment of finding new music to inspire and motivate me. Oddly enough, about the same time, I ran across this meme in Amandarin's archives. (yes, sorry... another blog theft). I used this synchronicity as a prod to make me discover (or in some places re-discover) the tunes that move me, that have memories associated with them, or the ones that just light up my mind with visual images.

If your life was a movie, what would the soundtrack include?

The opening title: Female of the Species-- Space
The waking-up scene: Heavy in Numbers-- Dragster Barbie
The average day/menial tasks montage: One Angry Dwarf & 200 Solemn Faces-- Ben Folds Five
The secret crush: You look like Rain-- Morphine
The first date/blind date: Secret-- Maroon 5
The party: Alcohol-- BareNakedLadies
The dance sequence: Stand Up Fever-- Ludacris vs Peggy Lee Mash-up
The falling in love/"spark" scene: Can't help falling in love-- Elvis Presley
The lovemaking scene: Angel-- Massive Attack
The fight scene: Suck it up-- Die Warzau
The break-up: Vinager & Salt-- Hooverphonic
Long night alone: Wild is the Wind-- Nina Simone
The reconciliation: Call & Answer-- BareNakedLadies
The mental breakdown: Girl Anachronism-- The Dresden Dolls
The stalking: Touched-- VAST
The explosion/shoot-out: Beautiful People-- Marilyn Manson
The get-away/driving scene: Bad Blood-- Ministry
The learning-a-lesson montage: Grace Under Pressure-- Elbow
Deep thoughts: When I'm Down-- Chris Cornell
The flashback: Scenes from an Italian Restaurant-- Billy Joel
Regrets: Full of Grace-- Sarah McLachlan
The death scene: And Dream of Sheep-- Kate Bush
As the closing credits roll: But Not Tonight-- Depeche Mode.

Passive Agressive Catharsis 2007

A little over a year ago, Amandarin did a fabulous meme titled “Passive Aggressive Catharsis.” At the time, I contemplated doing the same, but didn’t feel in a safe place to do so. But as I’m about to start a month long detox, I find myself readying to get rid of what I no longer need. This includes things that need to be said, but never have been. And so…I now step up to the plate and play along.

List up to ten (10) things you want to say to ten (10) different people. Do not state who these people are. Do not confirm or deny any ‘comment speculation’.

1. Stop Whining! It’s not all about you, your job should not be your whole life, and WOW you are exhausting to be around.
2. I feel like you’ve already gone, and I know I’m going to miss you more than I’ll ever express.
3. I bet you still sit on your high horse thinking everyone else needs to sort out THEIR issues. Denial is a powerful thing.
4. 15 years later, I still remember your touch.
5. Thank you- for being here, for listening, for accepting me, for laughing with me. Endless thank yous.
6. When I leave, I replay our conversations in my head, just to make sure everything is still “ok”.
7. I did as asked and stopped communicating with you. But I cannot and will not ever forget you, or stop caring about you. Be well.
8. I wonder what you say about me when I’m not around.
9. Some of the lessons you taught me still scar me daily.
And lastly….
10. Still at the bottom of a bottle? It’s wrong I know, but sometimes I hope so. Because if you did for her what you flat out refused to do when I was around, then I’m PISSED. I have such mixed feelings about you. I miss you. I’m still angry at you. I wish I could apologize to you for the fact that when we were together, I was NOT in my best place. Some days I curse you. Some days I mock you. But on my best days, I remember you kindly and then release what we had to the Universe, trusting that the wind will blow blessings to you, erasing all the bad memories from us both, and leaving us with a faint but happy essence of what we once shared.

101 in 1001- Latest Update

I realized that it had been a while since I'd updated my list on line, and that lots had been accomplish (or changed) since my last posting. So I've made some updates on my progress


Read the latest 101 in 1001 here

Words to Catch at my Heart

"The soul should always stand ajar, ready to welcome the ecstatic experience."
- Emily Dickinson

"The world is composed of rival gangs of hypnotists, each competing for your entranced attention." --graffiti on the wall of a public restroom at Northgate Mall, San Rafael, California

*****************
That's it. Wish I had more for you, but the daily grind has sucked dry my brain like a grape left on the dashboard of a car in a Southern Summer. *sigh* I finished Eat, Pray, Love and now find myself in that same void that one feels when one returns from a blissful vacation, only to plunk back into the morass that is everyday routine.

Trancendance, Table for One- Part 2

Friday afternoon is light, and I've decided to let myself off the leash again for a lunch moment. I cross the street to a little eatery where the salads are lovely and corners are dark. Here, I can disappear for an hour, and yet never feel any panic about being far from the office.

Over a goat cheese appetizer and tuna salad nicoise, I read about Elizabeth's further adventures in the Indian Ashram. I envy her meditation caves and her silent turets. I wonder how anyone can get close to the divine in this busy madcap world.

That's when a few distinct noises break through my reading focus (a difficult thing to do, for when I read... I block out the world)

The first is a conversation between a waiter trainee and the day manager of the restaurant. They are speaking of "sunday school", of verses and psalms, of religion and teachings and things that ease their hearts.

The second is a line from the song playing on the restaurant's overhead speakers. It is the 70's hit "Rock the Boat".... the line that is instantly absorbed by my consciousness is "love and devoooootion!"

I throw my head back and laugh out loud, aware for a moment that the "all-encompassing divine" is in fact in full force around me. It always is, whether I am in an Indian meditation cave or a North Hollywood restaurant. I just need to be reminded once in while.

In a state of bliss, I finish my lunch.... chuckling and feeling loved.

I'm DEFINATELY making lunch a more regular event.

Imagini-art

Saw this on Mardougrrl's page, and just couldn't resist all those yummy images.

Read my VisualDNA™ Get your own VisualDNA™

If you'd like your visualDNA, go here.

Trancendance, Table for One

Lunch. It’s an infrequent luxury in my world, and as I walked away from the office today, I actually heard the “Rocky” theme music in my head…. As if unchaining myself from the desk for 60 min were a feat of Herculean proportion.

My intention was to pick up some Taco Bell and drive to a near-by park, where I would read my current obsession, Eat, Pray, Love. I believe that this book was an Oprah recommendation or something similar, and I admit that did not really fill me with confidence that I would find it either inspirational or motivational. However, my dance studio offered it up as the book for discussion one month, and I wanted to have some idea of what people were talking about.

I couldn’t be more pleased that I did. What an amazing discovery!! This book fills me with hope and drive and all things that feel bubble-bath good in one’s soul. It has been a long time since I repeatedly laughed OUT LOUD at a book’s passages, much less chased someone down (usually poor Tag) saying, “Wait… you have to hear this. It’s hysterical.”

Elizabeth Gilbert’s telling of her year long adventures in Italy, India and Indonesia rousts parts of my soul that had settled into the numbness of neglect, giving it both wings, and the urge to fly. It has lightened my heart and filled it with giggly madness and joy. This is the kind of book that poets weep for and established governments should fear, because it cajoles me to be bigger, to be more courageous, to be more alive, to be inspired, invigorated, & ignited into a sacred flame.

As such, I found myself driving past the Taco Bell, and instead to a restaurant (one of my favorites) where I had not been in a long time. There I settled into a table by a sun-heated window, ordered some white wine and a salad, and allowed myself to be indulgent, reading at the table, drinking mid-day, and not keeping any sort of strict eye on the “lunchtime clock”.

While I ate my organic turkey burger and sipped my chardonnay, I found myself entranced by the words on the page. Gilbert’s description of the daily routine of the Ashram is reminiscent of the fantasy I’ve often had about life in a convent, or other spiritual temple. (And yes, I am aware how conflicting that desire is with my inherent inclinations to take long, wine-filled lunch breaks.... bear with me. )

Still, it was all a fairly innocous until I got to the conversation on soul mates:

“People think a soul mate is your perfect fit, and that’s what everyone wants. But a true soul mate is a mirror, the person who shows you everything that’s holding you back, a person who brings you to your own attention, so you can change your life. A true soul mate is probably the most important person you’ll ever meet, because they tear down your walls and smack you awake. But to live with a soul mate forever? Nah. Too Painful.”

When I finished reading the passage, I had to turn my head towards the window, and stare into the bright California sun, blinking back tears and the gasp that was caught in my throat. It’s not that the words were foreign or some epiphany exploding inside of me. The words were much identical to a conversation I had with a dear friend when I lost my first “soul mate”. But perhaps, because so much time had past, and my heart was miles from hurt, I was able to take those words inside of me as I never had before. There was a sigh of relief from within my soul, and I felt both validated and set free.

There have been a few loves in my life, that when they appeared, I was swept off my feet by the disorienting power they had over me. The signs of the Universe blinked in neon, telling me in no uncertain terms “PAY ATTENTION! This one is VERY important to you.” Those loves were passionate whirlpools of intensity, swirling wildly from indescribable joy to unbearable fury and pain. Those loves were also, oddly enough, the shortest in my history. They swept in, broke through walls, ripped open scabs, spilt their iodine and left without so much as a band-aid in thanks.

And here was a book, years later, confirming that it just might be a part of the bigger plan. *sigh* It was an amazing relief.

I turned from the window, back to the room full of diners and felt… just a little different. The couple at the table next to me received from the waitress two plates of pancakes, and I laughed while crying at the beauty and freedom of that. (I can’t explain what I found particularly moving about it…. Just that I did). There was a brief moment of wondering if I was being watched; if anyone noticed the tears glistening in my eyes, or the smile I couldn’t seem to erase. Just as quickly as that thought appeared, I realized that I couldn’t possibly care. I was in that moment perfect and pure and enjoying a state of amazing bliss.

I finished my glass of wine, paid my bill, and returned to my car. A moment of transcendence, disguised as an everyday meal.

I really should make a point of taking lunch more often.

Under Ice

News reports that two mammoth ice shelves in the Weddell Sea have collapsed into the sea. While the event is a sad & tragic example of global warming at work, it has opened up a portal into which marine biologists can peep, and see some of the glorious and mysterious creatures of the cold deep.

Among the findings was this new species of epimeria, sampled near Elephant Island, Antarctic Peninsula.

However, my favorites have to be this brilliantly colored shrimp-like creature

and this remarkably magic octopus.


I will forever love and be in awe by the unexplored portions of our watery world.

Open Water (with a twist)

In a sea of flannel sheets, the couple clung to one another, desparately trying to hold on to sleep that was slipping away with the growing light.

It was in that silence of early dawn that the first attack hit. A nudge, a whisker in the ear, and then a void that was as startling as the tickle.

Next, one sandpaper tongue began to wash the woman's eyelid. Over and over its unforgiving texture lapped at her unprotected flesh. She flailed and twisted away from the pain. Her pursuer slipped back into the abyss.... leaving a false sense of security and hope.

Suddenly in mass they swarmed..... One head pounce, one eyelid wash, and from one below, one paw of razor-tipped claws sank into his unsuspecting butt-cheek. He yelped in unspeakable pain, the noise of which pierced her ear. She ducked, seeking santuary in the endless tangled wrappings of the sheets, but her actions only caught the eye of the ever watchful predator, who mistook the gesture as the beginning of a game. Sharp talons of death came out for real as the near-slaughter continued..... all was lost for our heroic couple.

...

...

And just as the pain was subsiding from his mangled hiney, the alarm sounded, and poor Tag had to get up and feed the beasties before heading off to the office.

yeah.... like this...

only our sleeping bodies in the same perilous position

as that poor catnip plant.

Dear Duchess of "Rap"*

Read It, Live It, Learn It.

Spelling does not count as song writing.


I first noticed it during “Pump It” when you felt the need to remind us that we were listening to the “B-L-A-C-K-E-Y-E-D” Peas. The spelling was quick the beat was danceable and I let it slip by.

Then you went solo, and took your one trick pony with you. Not only did you repeatedly point out that you are “D, to the E, to the L-I-C-I-O-U-S” and “T, to the A, to the S-T-E-Y”, but you also offended the literate by not even spelling the last word correctly. *headdesk*

The final straw came this weekend, when I was subjected to a larger than life big screen, with your image prancing across it, declaring for all who would listen that you won't change for the “G-L-A-M-O-R-OUS”

I know I sound like a crotchety old person who can’t stand that music that “the kids are listening to these days”, but let me assure you… that is not the case. I like to be open to a wide variety of different tunes and beats. Given my mood, I can be found listening to anything from Punk to Classical, from Rap to Rock, from tribal drumming to full orchestra Musical Theatre.

But I haven’t gotten into a spelling song since Sesame Street had me humming along with “C is for Cookie”

So please, for the sake of us all… Get some W, to the R, to the I, to the T-I-N-G skills.

Kplsthx!



*note that rap is in quotes because I use that term really loosely when it comes to your music.

Being & Becoming

From "Words of Wisdom for Women" by Rachel Snyder

Be

Remember that life is in the being, not the doing. Be every bit of everything that you are. Be tough, be soft, be dramatic, be subdued. Be a little bit of this and a little bit of tha. Be the one who always shows up on time or be th eone who lives according to her own inner clock. Be the one who never forgets a detail or be th eone who never remembers. Be happy when you feel like it and be sad when you are down.

Be who you are-- not who they told you you should be. Be able to cry in front of someone you hardly know, if it's time to cry. Be willing to be real. Be talkative if you are; be quiet if you are not. Be ready to drop your masks and your protective armor and be genuine. Be in the moment. Be in the light.

.... And just when they think they know exactly who you are, be prepapred to be something altogether different.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Class was good today. Stirred my soul, moved my aching body (damn the migraines... damn them all to hell), and allowed me for a moment to slip the surly bonds of the everyday, and just Be. I wish the same bliss for you today.

Sunday Scribblings: Yummy

WOW.. what an easy prompt for me.

For years now, my alias has been YummyTeece. It came as a combination of my then boyfriend's nickname for me (Teece), and my favorite word, Yummy.

To me, Yummy is about so much more than taste. Yummy is the epitome of all things good. Sunshine after a rainstorm is yummy. The smell of newly-mown grass, which stirs memories of childhood's carefree summers... That's yummy. The warm glow of a first date gone wonderfully right... you know, that cloud you walk on for week after? That's the essence of being embraced by a big pink bubble of Yummy. It's the feeling of being loved, the feeling of self-confidence, the feeling of entering a room and stopping all the traffic in it.

Maya Angelou captured it when she said:

"The span of my hips
The stride of my steps
The curl of my lips.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally
Phenomenal woman
That's me."

Phenomenal women are Yummy!


Therfore when I embraced "YummyTeece", it was my way of speaking into the Universe the idea of me, to my highest power. Me at my most invincible. Me at my most self-loving. Me at my most courageous. Me- unfiltered, undiluted and unfraid.

I put Yummy out there to others when I meet them and have this conversation. I challenge them to find the Yummy in themselves, to embrace the Yummy in others. Paint the whole town Pink, a warm yummy bubble-gum pink of sugar sweet honesty and love.

Yummy....

I'm in such a better mood now. THANKS SUNDAY SCRIBBLINGS!!

Pouncing Anxiety

For more than half my life, my winters (specifically January and February) have been plagued with a diagnosed bout of depression. It hangs on, unwelcome, like the cloying scent of decay, and is terribly annoying to boot. My physical body aches and spasms, my sleep & eating patterns go out the window. I become irritable and moody.

Knowing that this is a biological cycle, I do what I can to fight it. Try to watch what I eat and drink, keep an eye on whether or not my response to any stimulator is ‘overly dramatic’ or otherwise unwarranted. I don’t like to think of myself as a depression “sufferer” but more one who trudges through the slime and muck and arrives eventually on the other side.

However, in the last few years, my winter visitor has come hand in hand with a new friend, Paranoia. I find myself questioning motivation for each comment addressed to me, as well as constantly checking myself in the mirror for what may have gone horribly wrong since last look. (and yes, I'm speaking of something more than just fresh zits or spinach in my teeth.) Each car behind me is either ‘undercover police’ or ‘intentionally harassing me’. Hang ups on the phone are stalkers trying to find me. Each ache and pain is sign and symptom of some incurable malady. My emails are being monitored; my bank account is being secretly hacked. It’s hell on my nerves, and even more of a drain on the folks around me.

*sigh*

BUT… even in the darkness, there are moments of light and joy. Just last weekend, Tag and I decided to celebrate his birthday with a visit to our local zoo. It was rainy and cold, and thus there were few folks meandering about. We headed to the snow leopard cage, hoping that the darkened winter weather would have aroused them from their usual mid-day slumber. Sure enough, they were not only alert and out in the open, they were in the mood to play. Upon hearing us approach, one of the young males climbed to a vantage point in his habitat and readied a pounce. Seeing him, I dove behind a bush and rustled the dry leaves on the ground. Intrigued, we watched each other for a moment before I sprang out and ran down the path. Inside his enclosure, he ran the corresponding length of his cage. I doubled back and so did he, and when we reached our starting point, I flopped slightly sideways in submission, and he did similarly, with a big cat “chuff”, clearly proud of himself.

The moment lightened my spirit and reminded me that this life I’m currently living…. 9 – 5 at a desk 5 days a week, is not one that I’m truly meant for. I need outside time and interaction with animals. I want to attend school again, and move forward in a way that feels so fitting. I want to talk with the animals, walk with the animals… play hard and live big. Perhaps when I finally fully inhabit the life I’m intended for, these winter doldrums will ease their hold on me.

Living is achieved in the same way that depression is conquered- one day at a time. Moving ever forward, not sitting and waiting it out. Fighting and winning small battles each day. Getting up and getting dressed, when you really just want to pull the covers over your head. *sigh* WOW… this little pep talk is nauseating even me.

What can I say? It’s January, almost February… and I’ve never really liked that time of year. I’m grouchy and nasty-tempered, in pain and in a lousy mood. However, I remain ever thankful for a love that stands beside me, and pouncy moments at the zoo.

Peace out my lovlies.... go do something fun with your day!

Riding The Wind

“Wild nights are my glory”
- Mrs. Whatsit, A Wrinkle in Time


That quote struck a chord in me as a child, and stays with me still to this day. If you don’t know the book, first let me say, “Go read it!” Mrs. Whatsit is an entertaining creature that Meg (the book’s protagonist) mistakes for some sort of homeless tramp. I often envisioned her as a nearly vomitous burst of colors and smells that is both alluring and off-putting at the same time. By today's adults, women fitting that description are often passed by, dismissed or overlooked. But like a child full of wonder, I would like to think that if I discovered her today, I would have the insight to find her as fascinating and enticing as Meg and her younger brother Charles Wallace do.

There are three such magical women who aid the children in their travels, Mrs. Whatsit being the youngest and most verbal. Perhaps I connected with her for that reason alone, although I think more that it had more to do with her transformation. Mid-book (and I don’t mean to be a spoiler, but hey…it’s my blog) Mrs. Whatsit turns into a beautiful centaur-like creature. Now being Sagittarius, I felt some sort of bond with her equine form, and dreamt of shimmering into such a shape. The cover art showed iridescent rainbow wings spreading out where arms might be, and in that corporeal body, she rides the children up, out of the atmosphere, for a “bigger picture” of the Universe & the endless battle of Dark vs. Light.



Last night, as the unusually strong winds whipped past windows and shook the apartment, I did what I often do in windstorms. I closed my eyes and pictured the great Mrs W spreading those glowing wings, facing a fierce headwind, then with a leap, sending herself bucking and blowing across a star-filled sky. I imagine her laughing loudly and robustly, reveling in the whirling torrent. I dream of her riding unharnessed wind and rejoicing in the wildness of night. And I wish, once again, that I was her.

Wrapping up 2006

Oh my dears.... so much time passed. I guess that when I'm happy, I'm a less prolific writer. Therefore pardon my absence, but know that by and large, it's due to a busy and blissful life.

December was a rush. I helped plan the Company Holiday party, which also just happened to be on my 35th birthday. 900+ people at a plush Hollywood hotspot..... quite the way to ring out 34. And as you can see... I looked quite sassy doing so.

After the holiday party, I decided to further celebrate my refusal to get old by coloring my hair a fun and unusual color. My colorist called it "Electric Cranberry".... but usually people tell me it's either Pink or Bright Red.

Winter Solstice brought an early gift for my beloved Tag.... in the form of an ever-curious kitten named "Cash" (as in "the Cat in Black"), seen here giving my schnoz a nibble...

Lastly, we rang in the New Year at an intimate gathering hosted by the SlackMistress , where fun was had by all. Even those who didn't quite make it through the whole party (but I won't name names.... *wink*)

Instead, I'll post pics. *grin*

The Night begins with a little Champagne and a whole lot of Silliness.

Midnight Snugglies ring in 2007.

Oopsie..... turns out Champagne and Bombay Sapphire don't mix well.

I hope that you and yours were able to celebrate as happily and as safely, and that 2007 opens doors that mystify your sense of wonder and elate your heart.