breakingsod.com

Not sure what my sleeping mind is trying to tell me, but night before last, it had me decapitate a ginormous snake-with my bare hands.

Phewph!

My sister sent me to get something from my room(present day house)… I started up the stairs only to find it completely blocked by an immense green/blue snake. It slithered down to the kitchen and proceeded to wrap itself around a small, naked toddler!

Eek! Well, I couldn’t just stand by and watch the little tyke become serpent food, and there was nothing weaponish about, so I just grabbed the boa by it’s neck and wrenched and twisted until it’s head(eventually, grotesquely) tore off-leaving a squishy pinkish strand just like in Pan’s labyrinth when the monster bit the fairies heads off.

Eeeuuugh.

What I’m s’posed to learn from this, I haven’t a clue. But if you ever need a snakes head ripped off, you know who to call.

Being self-employed in the years when I don’t get to claim my child credit bites.

The government just ate $1300 of the $2000 I’d set aside to buy my new kilns with. An’ that’s not even counting the $327 that H&R Block sucked up. Grrrrrrrrraaaarrrrrghhh! So close and yet so far…

I feel like an ant crushed by the machine. I was on the brink of victory, finally after so many long years of struggling to get my studio set up again and now WHAM!(slluuuuuurp)! And, of course, it’s nuthin’ personal, the money is just a tiny drop in the enormity of the government hose and they don’t even have a clue who I am or what it might’ve meant to me.

Well, at least I Know I’m Not Alone. Not with all these good, talented people struggling too.

Oh well, as Franti says, it’s not a horse race, it’s a marathon. And it’s Never Too Late.

…to really make a kid’s christmas.

Dang ebay cheatin’ bastidges!

I’d be the karmic asswhuppin’ kind.

I worked on a client yesterday whose left side was all messed up(that’s perfessional terminology) from an accident a year ago. He’d been crossing the street early one foggy morning, when an SUV ran into him! The driver rolled down the window, yelled: ‘Idiot!’ at his prone form and zoomed off into the fog.

Gah.

Stuff like that makes me sorry to be human.

I hate going to the dentist, but it really sucks to get yourself geared up to go and have them try to foist you off on another dentist, who doesn’t even know whether you need a root canal, a filling or a crown and then have her decide you need to go see a specialist while trying to get you to accept the $500 nightguard they made you(despite you having told them to hold off having it made at the last visit) even though it may no longer fit you after the specialist-ordained dentistry happens and they may have to make another one(cha-ching!).

Grrrrrrrick! My wallet is limp enough without that kind of suckfactor.

I stood my ground and came home WITH the nightguard and MY dentist’s assurance that if they have to make another one, it’s free.

Phew.

Now if only I knew what the hell is the matter with my teeth, I’d be halfway to happy with the frickin’ situation.

but traffic was HELL.

At least Sam got to sleep in the backseat for the two hours it took us to get home.

Gack. I’m going to bed now, someone come and rub the stopngo driving knots outta my neck now, please?

What’s life, what’s dharma, what’s art?

We asked those questions tonight in Dharma Art… Talked and talked, came up with all sorts of interesting ideas, but I really liked the potency of seeing life as a process of metabolizing experience.

I’ve been metabolising some serious sadness lately, just walking through the steps of my life, functioning fine, doing my job, having fun, relating to people normally, but there’s this sharp tight edge, like an invisible precipice of grief and loneliness and missingness… I know it’s not real, I’m not actually going to fall off a cliff, everything IS really OK, life is still full of beauty and good people and yummy food and friends who love me and believe in me. So I just let the waves of feeling rush through me, surging, releasing, grasping, reeling, lusting, rusting. I can’t will them away so I’m letting them percollate, even howl if they need to… Whatever. It’s all me.

I have a dear sisterfriend who matches me step for step in this crazy life, whatever I’m going through, she is too, even down to the last little emotional glottal stop on the hairy scarey road of love. Talking to her, holding her, being held, listening to her, letting it all spill out in all it’s ugliness, knowing there’s no judgement-just acceptance and so much empathy!-always helps so very, very much. She knows I’m strong and sane, even when I’m whipped. She holds that knowledge for me when I lose it.

Divinity on earth.

Metabolising experience, all experience, the good and yummy and the wrenching, painful kind-it’s all nutritious.

At least that’s the theory.

Mastering the reality, that’s another story, a lifelong one that I intend to take one little bit at a time.

I had such a pleasant day yesterday, just the Sam and I beaching it… So why am I feeling so tired, sore and unhappy today?

Damn, happiness is so fleeting! But fortunately, so is crankiness, unhappiness and grief… Although the latter can take quite a while to tranform, ultimately everything is transitory.

In the meantime, I just did mountains of dishes-so at least my kitchen is sparkling, so fresh and so clean.

Our teapot will never again whistle it’s pathetic little half-assed siren song-I killed it but good with my bout of midnight poetry.

I hereby dub myself Lord Empress Zan, Supreme Monarch of Potburningdom.

Sorry, Heather, not only did I destroy our kettle, but I took your title too!

There I was at an intersection this morning, just sittin’ waitin’ for the green light, humming ‘A better Version of Me’ in happy reminiscence of the Fiona Apple/Coldplay concert I went to last night, when screeeeeeech!WHAMMMM!!!-the whole car shakes as an Acura plows into the back bumper.

The car damage was negligible, but my neck kinda whipped about like a wet noodle.

Ouch.

The twenty-year old girl who climbed shakily out of her parents car, apologising profusely, explained that she’d been trying not to spill her just-purchased coffee, not paying attention to the rainy-slick conditions and so on and so forth.

Poor kid. She sure spilled her coffee. Not to mention my lunch, my cell phone, and my neck.

Grumble.