Snow White

Today the goddess speaks about herself:

I keep staring in mirrors to see if I have any pigment left in my skin. A week of snow days kept me indoors and out of the light. There isn't one teensy tiny bit of melatonin left in my biggest organ. (No, not my goddess gut! Go skim your high school biology book now. I'll wait.)
I'm already one of the whitest girls on the planet. If I don't get some significant reys soon I am going to fade away completely. Yesterday, at the market, I noticed another white chick leaning against the bin of oranges with her face turned up to the sun. She had her eyes closed and looked very serene. I was tempted to join her but, thought better of it, when I realized the glare from our duel foreheads could permanently blind anyone walking toward us.
When I was a kid I had all sorts of melatonin. Some people even described me as being olive skinned. I could tan like a marshmallow over an open flame. Not anymore -- now I get very red before peeling, revealing even whiter skin; even my eye color is fading. I don't even want to talk about what is underneath my L'Oreal medium golden brown tresses.
I have to say that getting older does have its advantages. For instance life insurance companies stop bugging you. Also, doctors want to give you a lot of drugs. They just offer them unsolicited. It's very nice. When my dentist inquired about my jaw pain and, I told him it was still 24/7, he offered to write me a prescription for something that would RELAX me. Only a few years ago he was sending me to physical therapy, bio-feedback, and the acupuncturist. My MD was the same with my recent knee injury. When the MRI didn't show any damage, he prescribed me a life-time supply of a top notch pain killer. Score! When I was younger these same docs would have tried to get to the root of the problem so I could get back on the ski slopes. Apparently, I am now past the point of no return. At the ripe old age of 44 and three-quarters I get to look forward to a life of sedation. Now all I need is for my alternative health practitioner to give me a medical MJ card and I'll be livin' large.
Losing weight is very interesting at this age too. The more weight I lose, the more skin heads south. (Weight loss is only attained past the age of 40 by careful 'hormone balancing' -- don't even get me started) As much as I would like to celebrate my smaller pant size, I can't help but notice that my rear is getting caught in the top of my socks, and my breasts keep getting tangled up in my belt loops. And, I don't know what drug I need to cope with the belly skin that just won't snap back to its original position but, I want it! I really really do.
Don't get me wrong; I'm still a red hot goddess! I'm just a little confused about how to arrange all of my parts into my clothes to achieve a desirable shape. It's a little like sculpting. I've become an artist of sorts. So, I have that going for me. Guess that will be my second career -- 'Sagging Body Part Rearranger'. I'm already a pretty good hair and face painter. Really, what I am at this point is a blank canvas, or a giant mass of sculpy clay. Hmmm. . . I always knew that I was a work of art.
May peace and graceful aging be yours from, The Goddess of Everything

Everything and Nothing

Today the Goddess speaks about herself:

The days have been speeding pleasantly along. I have been up to everything and nothing.
Work , work work, then two snow days in a row. Work again, go to class, come home to dinner, knit, watch Frasier, and go to bed. Not a bad way to fill the days.
I'm taking a long weekend workshop called, "High Trust". Hours upon hours of sitting on a hard chair. Every ounce of my blood is now located in my delectable derriere. The high trust relationship I have with my own body, I fear, is almost certainly hopelessly corroded. Not a lot of thinking takes place in my lower regions thus, I believe I am not getting as much out of this class as I had hoped. Perhaps tomorrow I can stand on my head. I doubt that this would be anything out of the ordinary for the teacher as he is quite the cuckoo crazy. He has done/said everything except stand on his head. The first day he said that he would never use "that language" and today, the third day he is exploding the F word here and there. Now saying F- word, in my opinion is just like saying the actual word. Anyone within hearing automatically thinks the word in their head when they hear F-word. Am I not right?Mr. C. C. has totally given up the pretense and is using it in varying conjugations. I don't really care if people explode the F-bomb every now and then. What does bother me is some integrity imbalance in stating one will never do something and then, doing it. There were a few other irregularities like this. My reaction to this kind of conflicting behavior is to become a bit off-balanced myself. I had to go to my happy place several times today.
My happy place is at home with B. I love to be curled up next to him doing anything. Lately, anything is knitting. B. gave me, "Stitch & Bitch", for Christmas. It's a beginning knitting book for women of a certain age. I love it. Everything is spelled out WITH pictures! After the author has talked you through knitting your first stitch, she says, "Sucked, didn't it?" And, it did!! Tell it like it is sister! I have tried to learn to knit a number of times over the years. I felt like I was knitting with the hooves of a water buffalo for hands. No, that's wrong. They don't have hooves, do they? Or, do they?
Anyway, you get the picture. Knitting with any kind of hooves is not going to go well. After my first attempt at some oblong shape with a couple of unplanned button holes (I'm calling it a doll's blanket), I have advanced to a three colored scarf. It is quite satisfying to watch it grow each night. Last night I noticed that the last two squares seemed to be a little wider than the first three. I counted the stitches and there were 12. I had started out with 10. Now, in the book she says to unravel it no matter how far along you've come. I understand the concept of fix it now so you won't forever being noticing your mistake, and dwelling on it. But, I am a positive person. I choose to see this little foible as charming rather than aberrant.
Knitting was a wonderful way to spend my time during the two snow days. I could stay in my pajamas all day, hang out on the couch, watching drivel on television, and still be productive. It was great! Practically no guilt. I will eventually have to deal with the 4 inches of dog hair on every surface of the house since I did NOTHING but knit for two days. The amount of dog hair inside rivals the amount of snow, on the ground, outside. No joke. We can't go half a day without swiffering if we don't want to be wading through wafting drifts of animal fluff.
Hmmm . . . maybe I could knit a dog hair rug . . .
My friend, Tita, claims to be the Queen of Dog Hair but, I don't know. I think I am definitely in the running for the title.
Tomorrow is another day in class. I will try the standing on my head thing and let you know how it goes. Wish me luck!
May peace and your own happy place be yours from, The Goddess of Everything.

A Little Freaked Out

Today the goddess speaks about herself:
It was a cranky, after the full moon day, for me. Right off the bat I was dithering in my head.
Dithering in the head is when many thoughts, that make you anxious, queasy and mad-all-over-again (that would make a great title for another blog) were rolling over each other in waves--literally, IN MY HEAD. It started with reading my horoscope. No, it started with me not being able to sleep, getting up to hang out on the net, and reading my horoscope.
Anyway, 2007 is apparently going to be a roller coaster ride of change for everyone. This got me to thinking about all of the changes I would like to make in my life. Big changes, Baby! Right at the top is my job. I work in an insane asylum. Individual people are fine. The basics of my job can even be very enjoyable but, the system itself is bad enough to make a refined goddess rip a few heads off of skinny little necks.
As I was obsessing-I mean mulling things over, my son was running around getting his stuff together to go snowboarding. He's an adult with his own apartment but, my brain still goes into worst case scenario mode anytime he is about to do anything remotely dangerous; and I know about it. He is a very conscientious son. He will always call me after the fact. I got a call right after he jumped out of an airplane the minute he turned 18. However, he does not know that things like, snowboarding, which he has done several times since being home for vacation, is one of those things I would rather not know about until he is safely home. (A goddess lets her children experience life without showing them her fear. . . for the most part).
With all the dithering in my head I was kinda lookin' for a fight when who should arise from the marital bed but, my beloved. Our first fracas was over the tea kettle. He turned the stove off and opened the lid on the pot letting the steam out. This always makes me shake my head. Today I wasn't about to stand for it! I took the kettle off of the burner and snapped the lid shut.
We argued over which way kept the water warm longer. Of course, he had no logic to back him up on this; I had just taught a two month unit on weather. I think I know which way keeps the heat AND the water in best! Well, you can kind of see how the morning went. We have nothing big to fight about and he doesn't really fight anyway; it's so maddening. Plus, after a half a dozen little tiffs like this he had to go to work. I got three separate kisses out of the deal. I did make him reach up from below and kiss me over the top of the stair railing. Ha! Take that!
My day at work was ok. It was at the end of the day, when I was happily painting on the stage, where my worry button was pushed. The secretary found me to tell me I had a phone call. For one second I was relieved to hear my beloved's voice. The next second I was quelling panic. Our son had tried to call but, had not gotten through. He also wasn't answering his cell. Every kind of worst case went through my head: landed upside down in a snowbank, went off of a cliff, sustained a head injury, car accident on the way down the mountain. . . Since there was nothing I could do but wait I went back to painting with my cell phone in my back pocket on high and vibe. I spent the next hour trying to visualize my son in a safe place, waiting for a phone call that never came. Every time I tried tried to call either my husband or son there was no answer.
Finally, I decided to go home to wait. As I drove up to the house I could see that my son's car was parked right where it always is when he's home.
Of course, I was relieved. However, when I walked into the house to find my beloved, blithely sitting on the couch, eating bread and cheese, and watching the Sci Fi channel, I went from a little freaked out to a lot more than mildly frustrated. (A little head ripping off would have felt good). A switch clicked over in my head just then, and a voice said,
"Refrain from ripping off anyone's head; hug your loved ones, who are safe, and ask what they want for dinner." So, girding my goddess loins, I did just that (after a teeny, tiny, itsy, bitsy bit of reproach).
May peace be yours in this year of change from, The Goddess of Everything