The News Is Now

Don't get the upgrade for Windows Media Player. It's trying to play President Clinton's most famous speech ("I did not have...") right now and it sounds like a stripped DJ Irene track. The "American people" parts are hilarious, but I'd prefer to not have every song in my list beatboxed, you Microsoft-produced mofo.

I pretty much just realized how long it had been since I have posted. A lot has happened since then, so I'll go as chronologically as possible:

1.) I got new roommates. It's still a very tentative situation, but thus far all things are going well. They're sitting behind the tapestry that screens off their futon, playing video games, and if it weren't for Media Player's sudden transformation into a cut-rate Moby remix, I wouldn't even know they were here.

2.) I got seriously rededicated, spiritually speaking. I received the Dao from Fung Dien Chuan Shur, to whom I was introduced by my friend Emma V. I moved, cleaned, and rededicated every altar in the house. I made a new, all-Hindu altar, at which we threw the first puja last night, which was pretty awesome. And, since I had my court thing coming up, the no-atheists-in-foxholes principle (which, alas, my friend in Iraq has now proven wrong, wrong, wrong) kicked in too. It's the New Year (still no highlights, I'm busier than a one-armed paperhanger up in here) and I'm usually better after solstice, but I can't say this level of spiritual activity is my norm. I went to temple last Sunday and sponsored the archana (I think that was it, but the piece of paper with the word written on it is currently under several pounds of clean laundry, and....no), which is a very inexpensive donation to the cost of running the temple and having the pujas (here's a hint: it cost me $40 just to throw the one for six folks that I gave at my house, and they have an image at least six feet tall of Lord Ganesha who gets garlanded with fresh flowers, bathed in milk, orange juice, yogurt and honey, none of which we can do to my deities because they're not made for it) that gets you extra prasad (a bag of food and flower offerings to put on your home shrine) and a specific blessing for yourself and anyone else who needs it. Besides that, I gave thanks to all the deities and to Kshipra and Heramba Ganapatis, the two forms of Ganesh to whom I've been doing specific japa malas (sets of prayers done on beads called malas, about twice as many as a standard rosary, Catholic-style), who I think helped heal GoddessA's bunny and make #3 happen too, and perhaps even #4. I wrote an awesome spell (I almost never write spells, but this one was cool) using the Hebrew angels that SFGod looked up for me, including the angels for the day of the week the hearing was originally scheduled and my zodiacal sign, not to mention law, forgetfulness (for the cop), hope/penance, and a bunch more I can't even recall off the top of my head, plus all the names of G-d that correlate with the Psalms related to favorable judgements in court cases (viz. the 6th & 7th Books of Moses And Magical Uses of the Psalms.) It was wicked awesome and I copied it into my Book for posterity (we of the social sciences know how to do our research). When I randomly ended up at Goddess A's yesterday under the mistaken impression that SFGod was going to be there and drive me home after I dropped off the coffee table and showed him the finished spell, and decided to walk home when they didn't show back up, they speculated for a moment or two as to the identity of the dreadlocked back walking down their road, before driving past me, carrying my Rainbow Brite bag and holding that (lit) candle, and picking me up and driving me home, laughing hysterically. It was fun, in a weird way, and better than walking the rest of the mile.

It says something not terribly nice about me that it's partially taken the threat of probation to get me going, spiritually speaking, but at the same time...I'm going. And out of it, by my belief system at least, have come the next two big Important Things from my brief hiatus.

3.) I got a new job. No more hold music for me...well, actually, yes. But no more selling cubic zirconia, no more looking up gram weights of gold, no more home shoppers, and no more sales. I've decided to really debase myself and become a bill collector.Yeah, yeah. But the company is pretty reputable, the pay is right, the environment is hella better, and the money potential if I get good at it looks verra verra nice indeed. Also, it gets something medical-related into my resume, which, since I've heard medical billing pays the bank, would be nice in terms of the future if this doesn't work out. Only one wrinkle....

4.) My court date got continued again. I found this out at 5 pm today on the same week I am supposed to be starting a new job at which I will not have accrued any off time for a while. The worst part, short-term anyway, is that I won't even be able to speak to my attorney about the continuance date until tomorrow morning because of how late this fell through.

Now, there are two ways for me to look at this: the goddammit way, which was my first reaction, because I really, really want this job and don't want to start out being mentally identified as "the girl who always has a problem" by my new boss, and arrgh, and gah, and paranoid and ohmigod. But I talked to my dad, and then to the new bosslady, who appears to be entirely sane, and they both said it's no problem, the latter adding that all she needed was a letter from my attorney for my file informing her of the new date, like turning in a doctor's note.

Then there's the way, in the light of all the recent spiritual praxis, I ought to be looking at things, which is that I've done, and had done for me, a lot of work with two main objectives: generally getting me cleared of charges, and specifically getting the cop to forget or otherwise miss the court date to get the case thrown out. Obviously the Big Kahuna(e) wouldn't have caused this to happen so quickly and unexpectedly if it weren't what had to happen to accomplish the objectives. When I took a sec to think about it, I realized that even a short continuance will make six months since the original arrest. The cop is going to forget, or just say fuck it. So let it be written, and stuff.

5.) To obey the law of Fives, I will add a fifth: I donated my second gallon of blood for the American Red Cross. Actually, I finished it back in May of last year (five of oh-five), but it took me over five months to find out about it. Unless my recurring winter-induced sinus infection comes back, I'll be doing a phaeresis next Tuesday afternoon. Only five percent of eligible donors choose to give blood, so unless needles make you faint, you should think about it. They'll give you a t-shirt, and after a gallon you get a neat pin and a sticker to put on your car telling everyone you donated eight pints of blood and saved at least twenty-four lives. (Plus, putting "blood donor" under your community service/awards and honors part of your resume makes you look like a badass to those who don't donate because they have needle fear. Or like a sucker for punishment, which some people look for in their employees.) And if you can take the time and do platelets or plasma, the need for those is even greater. (Two needles, though, and it takes anywhere from an hour to two hours from the time you walk in until you leave, but you get your red cells back so you don't even get faint afterwards, and they'll let you watch TV or a movie if you bring one.) Please donate blood. If you know your tattoo artist or piercer uses clean needles, just lie about the question; they'll test your blood anyway. Thanks for listening to this Public Service Announcement, which was sponsored by Parce's veins; now back to your regularly scheduled post.

So, other than being a bit nervous about all the changes (from what I remember of the stress test, I'm getting fairly dangerously high on the stressors list) and uncertainties in my life, I'm actually doing fairly well. There's a large orange cat in my lap, my house is cleaner than it's been in months, I have pretty shrines and I even managed to get almost all of my books on shelves. In some form of order, if that can be believed, although that "order" is relative, still requires some fine-tuning and probably means trying to jam one more large bookcase into this somewhat crowded apartment to replace two of the small ones and still make room for the books stacked sideways on shelves, nestled in plastic Rubbermaid boxes and languishing in cabinets to have shelves of their very own. But, if you had ever seen my library (GoddessA can attest to its sprawling nature), and can be troubled to take into consideration that I live in an 800-square foot apartment with three people and three cats, you'd be almost as impressed as I am with that achievement.

I also went and had a lovely time with my mother this afternoon before the drama, and, after I introduced her to Baja Burrito, one of my favorite places in all the world to eat tacos, we took a little trip to the fabric store, where she bought me (at her own insistence -- I had my debit card halfway out of my bag before she said something) two and a bit yards of some gorgeous, heavy corduroy that I'm going to use to make a neat stripy pillow (I think -- I haven't cut it, just looked at its bounty, because I think I'm too stressed out to start a sewing project, what with the need for precision and my current, distracted state of mind), as well as some thread and a zipper to replace the one that's broken on one of my nicer pairs of pants. I found some much better fabric for the pair of Chinese restaurant chairs I've been meaning to put seats on and recover for four goddamn years, although since its price made me want to gag and I didn't know exactly how much I needed yet, I did not give in and buy it. I've made the bottoms for the chairs. which I got for ten bucks for the pair back in the day, out of heavy pressboard, but the odd shape of the seats means I have to go get the chair foam crap from Home Depot, which is never on my list of places to visit under any normal circumstances. But now I will probably get off my ass and buy both the filler and some of the expensive-but-oh-so-pretty fabric, as those chairs would look awesome with the table that is now by the front door, and I wouldn't need so much fabric that I'd have to hock my firstborn to afford it. Also, I got a much-belated Christmas card (for her, I'll skip using Xkzule) from my Grandma Parce, who is precious, and then called her with the no-longer-broken phone and had a nice conversation. I didn't realize she was pushing 81; I need to go see her soon.

There are a few householdy things I had ought to be doing, but since my life has been, yet again, thrown into disarray, and since they are totally minor in nature, I think I'm going to sit and read my copy of Stephen King's Black House, which I thought had been gone for over a year and I am really, really happy to get back. I knew there had to be a reason I never wanted to spend the money on another hardbound copy, even when I found it cheap a time or two. See #4.....there is a reason for everything. It's just not always evident.

If I keep telling myself that, maybe the butterflies in my stomach will go away.


confidential to FNR: reading this, you dirty fucker? Hurt my beloved sister in law, and I will beat you to death with an Oxford Study Bible. Complete with the Apocrypha. The five-oh are onto you and you are going down. Enjoy your new roommate, Big Gay Ray!