Time To Be Funny, Again

Today the goddess speaks about herself:

It's time to be funny again.
I haven't been, or felt, particularly funny the last couple of months.
Last night I went to see, 'Wild Hogs'. I laughed so hard I wet my pants--
several times.
I have no idea what criteria movie critics use to critique a movie. I don't think they consider the watchability factor. Sure, a Brokeback Mountain, or a Capote are swell movie fodder, but you don't necessarily want to watch them more than once. Give me a two star movie any day over an art film.
There's a time and place for artsy fartsy, but there are many more times and places for fun-time movies.
The best time I ever had at a movie was watching, 'Snakes On A Plane', at the Baghdad, eating beer and pizza, and shouting at the screen with the rest of the movie revelers. I knew it was going to be good, and it was!
This year I refused to see most of the Oscar nominated films because they were too much of a drag. I need laughter in my life. Not watching the movies didn't stop me from dressing up like a dreamgirl, and partying down at the nearest Oscar party. However, the only movies I cared about were Dreamgirls, and Little Miss Sunshine. Two very fun movies.
This is going to be the year of fun for me. No raining on my parade from anyone, inside or outside of my personal reality.
Today I went shopping to buy a new pair of pants, and a purse.
I came home with two hot dresses, a ridiculous pair of shoes, and three pairs of wild earrings. I will not be constrained by the hum-drum right now. Apparently, hum-drum is not an exclusive category. I may have to wear evening gowns to teach in, having no desire to buy sensible attire, but the kids will love it!
Who knows what the future holds, but at least I am sure it won't lack for laughs.
May peace, laughter, and a silly pair of earrings be yours, from, The Goddess of Everything.

A Little Amped Up

Today the goddess speaks about herself:
Aaahhhhhh!!!! Is this day over yet?!
I have been busting it out all day. This morning I conducted a conference call while applying my eyeliner, attended several meetings in person, and over the phone. Plus, many many e-mails to keep everyone in the loop. This is so not me. I am not this person.
I like to spend my days with small children, and my nights with my honey or the girls or both.
I like the hardest part of my day to be when the students are hooligans in their pigtails and shiny, innocent face disguises.
KIDS! Kids are adorable.
Adults? Not so much. (Yes, a phrase coined by Jon Stewart)
Yesterday we were talking about Presidents' Day. Several of the kids wanted to know why we didn't go to school, and what they were expected to do that day to 'honor' the presidents.
I told them they could write a letter to the president. (Now I live in a largely conservative town,
some of these kids' parents don't think the abolition of slavery was necessarily a good thing).
I try not to bring up the current occupant of the White House. It is just all too depressing for a Progressive, Bleeding Heart like me to hear the dark-side opinions of adults sweetly intoned out of the mouths of babes.
Today was a little different. It must be a sign of the times (maybe those poll numbers are true) because so many of them raised their fists to say the prez was a bad guy.
So, when I suggested they write a letter they said, "He wouldn't listen to us; He does whatever he wants; He doesn't care about anybody". Wow.
Well, I assured them, regardless, they still have a voice. they can write, with respect, what they think the president should do, in their opinion. At the very least, they'll get a form letter back, on White House stationary. If they are very lucky they will get a glossy photo to throw their spit wads at, or perhaps store their gum upon. I know one of those things came in real handy for me in the early eighties. Think poor, unwed mother, college student trying to get an education, and find a sliding scale clinic while Reagan was president.
Think again sister!
Those were dark days.
Thank goodness I had that glossy photo, of the guy with the big hairdo and movie star smile, on which to take out my frustrations.
May peace and a clear conscience be yours from: The Goddess of Everything

Can't Sleep

Today the goddess speaks about herself:
Can't sleep, can't sleep, can't sleep. . . . . . . . . .
Once again I was awakened by some unknown force only to lie in bed, feeling deprived of a full night's rest. Is it the damned moon shining in my window? Is it a surge of hormones knocking my brain into hyper drive at four in the morning? What? What? What?
I don't want to get up and start my day because I know that I will be drooping again two hours later. I have this surge from four to six. I have no idea what causes it, but I will have no problem blaming the moon. The very same moon that insists that I come outside to look at it. Never mind that it is twenty-eight degrees outside (that's below freezing, for you non-Americans). Never mind that there are wild animals alerted to my presence as I stand underneath its demanding glow, shaking my fist. Although I probably look too crazy to the bears, raccoons, coyotes, mountain lion, and fox to bother with. They are more than likely shaking their heads at the idiot standing in her 'Juicy' pajama bottoms and Cher, The Final Tour, t-shirt railing at the moon with waving fists and two feet of hair going in every direction.
Fine. It's big. It's bright. It lights up the night sky, and causes the waves to go in and out.It's a freaking force of nature. I get it. It's THE MOON!
Does it have to come out so many nights of the month; waning, waxing, gibbousing. It never stops. Night after night after night another phase insists that I personally, stand under it, and admire it's versatility and brightness. "Look at me, I'm full" "Look at me, I can make a crescent" Blah, blah, blah, blah, freakin' blah.
I JUST WANT TO SLEEP!
May peace and a dark bedroom be yours from, The Goddess of Everything.

Where Are Those Melanopsin Ganglion Cells When You Need Them?

Today the goddess speaks about herself.

It's a sunny day outside but, I choose to sit here in front of my portable luminaire. You know, the light box that is supposed to replicate sunlight for those with SAD. My annual Seasonal Affective Disorder started coming on a couple of weeks ago. It really hit last night. All of a sudden. The experience was very similar to feeling the 'whoosh' of serotonin leave my brain during PMS time.
I was just sitting in the big chair, the one that makes me feel like that Lily Tomlin character -- fill in the blank -- I can't remember her character's name; the little girl one, who sat in a big chair.
My big chair also has a giant ottoman so, my feet were up. I had my dinner plate on my lap. One minute I was enjoying my dinner and, caring about watching a particular show on TV. The next second I just didn't care about anything. I mechanically finished my dinner and kind of zoned out for an hour.
I went to bed very early in the hopes that I would feel better in the morning. Morning. Nada. Sigh.
I think my melanopsin proteins jumped ship, possibly my cones and rods as well. What's a SAD girl to do when she doesn't have enough melanopsin ganglion cells to trick her into feeling happy in the gloom of winter? I need some feedback here. Make it funny; I'm not interested in self-help. I've read all of the books. I need to laugh! Except-- wait-- I take that back. I do not want to be sent a lot of cute pictures of puppies and internet jokes that have been sent to me a million and one times already. (Trust me, there are no new ones). I need something bawdy, baby!
I need to kick up my heels and DANCE!!!!!
My remedy for my lack of melanopsin thingies is a laundry list of little things that may help.
1. Sit next to my light box for 30 minutes
2. Wear jeans to work on top of sexy underwear
3. Wear a sparkly top and pink lipstick
4. Make my students dance around me and sing 'She's The One', from A Chorus Line
5. Make slime, in Science, instead of doing the boring lesson that was planned
6. Buy a new pair of earrings
Retail therapy really helps a lot but, I don't love to shop when I am in this mood. Also, there are a limited number of stores in my town. I can however, find earrings at the local art gallery. Notice that there are no food treats on my list. Due to my my internal flora balancing, of late, I have no cravings. Damn. All I do is sit around losing weight. If a girl can lose weight just by sitting around, and still be feeling down in the dumps, you know this is not the normal blues. So,
I have a plan. A plan should be on my list of What To Do In Case My Melanopsin Proteins Jump Ship.(copyrighted title to my next book)
7. Make a plan to compensate for loss of melanopsin ganglion cells
I have my plan. Do you have yours? I'd love to read your list!
May peace and an abundance of melanopsin thingies be yours from, the Goddess of Everything

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