There's a Bob Schneider song that goes: "The world exploded into love all around me..." and my version of it today is: "The world exploded into woots all around me..."
Hell, I got a CnS on my big order last night! There's just something about knowing that your deferred gratification is about to be consummated. And this is a big order (for me, relatively) of Kali, O, Osun and Ogun. I love O so much and I was afraid I was going to use up the bottle that I now have prior to getting another. I'm probably going to have to order a big bottle the next time that I break down and order a LE.
I need to get ready for work. I'll ramble more later.
My hairdresser does have a good sense about what is trendy, because she cut my hair into this cut about a month ago, and I haven't been entirely sure about it. It's a lot healthier, but I just wasn't sure. My hair does grow really fast, especially in the summer, and now it's probably a half-inch longer. Anyway, last night I walked by the TV and there was Sandra Bullock on Leno, with my haircut. Mine needs another half-inch or so to hit the same length as Sandy, and I have sideswept bangs and she doesn't. But I'm taking in the Sandy photos at the end of this month and instructing Brandi that I want to maintain at Sandy's length. Same cut, just a bit longer.
Sandra, you probably know, went with Matthew McConaughey for quite a while. What you might not know is that her next boyfriend was that my favorite singer and designated ideal cutie-pants, Bob Schneider. I am not very jealous of her about Matthew, but about Bob, oh yeah, I'm jealous. Not really, I just say "good for you, sistah!" Then she married Jesse James, the West Coast Chopper guy. He doesn't do much for me, but I think Sandra is a biker chick at heart.
Last night I was listening to Caroline Myss, and sometimes I find her to be borderline moonbatty, but in general I really enjoy her perspective. And that perspective is looking at the intuitive, mystical side of life, as seen by a really brassy Chicago broad who doesn't mince words. I was lucky to pick out the CD that I did, because it was equivalent to getting a good lecture from a friend who pulls no punches. I am not going to lay all my garbage (or as I like to say it in this context, "garh-bhage") on you, but I really need to get my shit together. If I would detail all the complications in my life right now, you'd probably not believe me.
Caroline makes some statements that always help my perspective -- to look at the people in your life, especially those who have a great impact upon you, as someone with whom you have a sacred contract. It's not your job to figure out why they are there, or why you are there. And don't worry about your life working or not working if they are there or not there -- because you know what? You weren't born to live for them, you were born to live for yourself. And at the end of the day, if you're meant to be together, it will happen. And if you're not meant to be together, it won't happen. Simply endeavor to live out your end of the deal as well as you possibly can, giving respect to yourself first, and then to the others in your life. But don't take shit off of them if they aren't playing fair. She calls it living in the heart of the paradox, and that's very true.
Ah, should it be that easy. I'm there a lot of the time, but then there's always a person or two who are huge, huge challenges. And then I feel like I'm being eviscerated. It's such a lovely sensation. But as one of my other favorite wise women, Pema Chodron, likes to say, a lot of these really strong emotions have a shelf life of 24 to 48 hours.
So I'll wait it out, kind of like how I'm waiting for my hair to grow out to Sandra Bullock's length. Actually, I'll forget about how I'm feeling faster than my hair will grow, and I'm not upset about my hair, so what gives?
My day blew chunks, but then I got a CnS for my Monster Bait: Underbed order, and the dark clouds parted and the moon came out! (The CnS arrived at 8:04 p.m., sun wasn't around.)
I am really, really tired after my week at work. A minor rant follows.
I work for a state legislature and everyone in my office tends to specialize in certain policy matters. I was assigned a legislative bill last year that has morphed into something that's not within my subject matter specialty. Because it's a terribly controversial issue that keeps morphing, and because the person working with the subject matter that my bill has now become is the newly-hired golden boy in the office, my boss didn't reassign the bill to him. He's making me keep it and I'm going to be the one whose name goes on what may be a controversial analysis document.
Now, WTF? Some of my coworkers told me it's because my boss trusts my work, but I don't believe that for a minute. I think he likes to run my butt up the flagpole and spares the men in the office. If the new guy did the work, my boss would have to trot along with him if a senator is upset, because the new guy is a poor little baby and we can't have his feelings hurt. With me, no way. And it's not like I even did that much of the difficult analysis -- economists in an agency did that work. But my name goes on the document, and we do have the ability to disagree with agencies. But I didn't, because it's damn near impossible to accurately figure out what's going to happen. I said there was no basis, at this time, to disagree. How's that for weasel words?
And here's the worst part: I was telling my boss today about an obscure part of the bill and he said to me: "I didn't know that was in there... good girl for finding it." Now, WTF? I am not his fucking dog who retrieved a bone, nor am I a girl. I am fucking over 40 years old! Patronizing 'nadless sack of shit.
And they all wonder why I have such an attitude.
I do need to investigate those TAL blends and see if there's one for my boss. Any suggestions, TAL experts?
I buy coffee from a guy who is a custom roaster. He used to have a little downtown storefront where he served coffee beverages and roasted and sold his beans. About five years ago he closed the storefront and built a roasting hut on the farmstead where he lives. Now he sells beans on his web site, but he still delivers beans to the old downtown coffeehouse crowd.
He also sends out very chatty emails to his clients to tell us what coffees are in stock, to remind us of the weekly order deadline, and to give us his opinion on current events, or whatever else might be on his mind. It's a bit like walking in on his surreal and rambling discourses when he ran the shop. The man is never short of opinions and is rarely afraid to express them. Did anyone see the movie "Blue In The Face" with Harvey Kietel? (It was the follow-up to the movie "Smoke.") Lou Reed had a cameo role in that movie, and our roaster man is more than just a bit like Lou Reed in "Blue In The Face," sans the cigar.
Now don't get me wrong -- this man knows his coffee and roasting techniques thoroughly, and I consider him a master roaster. As a political pundit, it's another thing, although I'm rather amazed he isn't a guest commentator on Fox News. To illustrate this point, here's a sentence from his most recent email. It is one of the most weirdly hilarious things I've read in a long time, if only because I know he was dead serious. Read it and weep or laugh or howl:
"So, now what do you think of this? A 25-year-old female Spanish language schoolteacher has been arrested for having sex with an 18-year-old male student. It seems that Texas passed a law against teachers having sex with students. The initial bill was for students 17 years of age or under taking into the fact that the age of consent is 18. But some old fart in the legislature had that dropped and made it any student. Now come on, this man, can sign contracts, he can vote, he can serve his country, he can marry but he can't have sex with his teacher."
Well damn it, a man has a right to bonk his teacher! But isn't turn around fair play and that 18-year-old female has a right to bonk her 25-year-old science teacher? I may have to ask him that when he drops of the coffee beans. He'll probably say: "Hell yeah!"
If I could play music to close out this segment, it would be The Police, with Sting singing: "Don't stand, don't stand, don't stand so close to me..."
