The High Priestess counts down...

39 days until first face off of the season.

All is well.

The High Priestess contemplates political activism...

Last night was date night. After dropping Caris off at Taryn's so that they could go to see Chicago together at the Orange County Performing Arts Center, Charlie and I went to The Pub for a "debriefing". It's the usual outing for us. Kinda like the Cheers gang, it's good to go into a place where everybody knows your name, you can sit and have a couple of drinks, talk with friends, play some trivia, and just let the stresses of the world slide off of you. We spent a good deal of time out on the patio and talked about kids, and life, and work, had some dinner, and then went inside for a little while and played NTN. I wasn't doing so well at Retroactive trivia (surprisingly), and Mike (the owner) came over and chatted with Charlie and I about coming out to his place in La Paz. At around 8:00, we decided it was time to go.

I could tell that Charlie was still hungry because he kept talking about fries. He NEVER talks about fries. I'm the carb freak, not usually Charlie. And since we're both on Atkins and in the midst of a weight loss competition with Ron-O and Gordon ($50 a head, per month), fries are not a good thing to be craving. There wasn't really anything on the menu that felt "legal" for us and so Charlie said.."Let's go, we're making a stop on the way home."

We get into the car and we pull into the parking lot of Skosh Monahan's. We hadn't been there in about a year, but the food was amazing. Charlie knew that I loved the beer shrimp there and he seemed to be in the mood for some lobster bisque. There's none better than at Skosh's.

Now, for those of you not in the know. Gary "Skosh" Monahan, the owner of this family restaurant and Irish pub, is also the mayor of our fair city. And there is just something completely comforting to me about walking into a place and seeing Hizzoner da Mayor tapping kegs, pouring libations, and happily chatting with the locals who belly up to the bar. About 15 minutes into our meal, who should walk in and sit at the bar, but the FORMER mayor, Peter Buffa and his lovely wife. Talk about political activism! Is this not a great town? Where the mayor serves the former mayor a drink and a meal? I'm telling ya folks, ya gotta love it. Just makes ya wanna vote, doesn't it?

The High Priestess visits Beelzebub...AGAIN

According to Offspring A; I have to give credit to the very hot Dane Cook for mentioning the fact that I have visited "Satan's Asshole" four times (count 'em FOUR) this summer. Geez Ave, did you think I wouldn't mention your future husband (does Jimmy know)? Hmmmmmmm.

I knew it before, but I just have to say, he's right. Not only is that place a horrible little world unto itself, almost defying description, but the people that work there are minions. It hasn't been easy. Two girls, both getting permits and learning to drive at the same time. In order for this to be possible, we have to make that trek to yes, you got it...DMV Hell.

It's not so much that the people there are terrible people. I'm sure they have their families, and their lives, and they're just trying to plug their way through this life, just like all of us. I always thought of DMV as a drudgery simply because of the THOUSANDS of people who show up at the same time you do. There's an endless stream of humanity in and out of those doors on a daily basis. That is, of course, except for one Monday a month. HOURS can go by. You could go into labor and actually give birth there and STILL not have your number called. You don't go there unless you HAVE to. Well, if you're a sado-masochist or something and you just LIKE pain. Which doesn't say a whole lot about me being there. I, personally, do not HAVE to be there. But THEY do, and someone's gotta get them there. Someone=me. Did I mention labor and delivery? I know what you're thinking; "She's only been through labor and delivery thrice." Well Kiddies, you're wrong. I'm going on number 8. Three times having produced progeny, and four times to the DMV with aforementioned progeny to hopefully walk out with little pieces of paper that say that they are legally allowed to drive me...to complete insanity. No offense girls, you just know what a nervous passenger I am.

Anyway, Caris and I get there at 7:10 am thinking that the gates of hell open at 8:00 am. Only to find that we have arrived on the ONE day of the week that they open at 9:00 am because they were open on the ONE Saturday of the month and closed on the following Monday. Are you following me? Yeah, that's what we thought too. We're probably the 3rd in line and so far the amount of people is pretty sparse, so we think we've done well. So we stand for two hours...keeping busy by quizzing Caris on the law test. Meanwhile, masses of humanity are forming lines behind us. Soon, the line is around the corner of the building...and growing. At around 8:00, a rotund woman dressed in black and sporting bright fuscia lipstick, with one of those little rent a cop badges on comes out to raise our country's flag (over Hades, no less) and while at her chore, begins to BARK orders at us about who should be standing in which line. Suddenly, I feel like I'm in Kindergarten again.

While people have occupied themselves around us, either networking by cell phone, or studying their homework, or chatting with others in line (more like co-miserating and talking smack about the DMV), or playing hacky-sack, time has, if not joyfully, then quickly passed. We've been taking care of business, making the best of a bad situation, and otherwise been in okay moods. Some have decided not to waste their time and left to try this another day (been there, done that. Take it from experience, WAIT IT OUT, it doesn't get better, believe me), some have walked across the street to McD's and gotten some sustenance. The point is, we've been a pretty orderly bunch; friendly, considerate. Then came the female Cujo. She starts every sentence as an order, a new world order. She's almost like the Gestapo.

Cuja: "THE OFFICE DOESN'T OPEN UNTIL 9 AM. WE SUGGEST MAKING AN APPOINTMENT IF YOU CAN TO AVOID STANDING IN LINES. THERE IS NO SMOKING, EATING, OR DRINKING INSIDE THE BUILDING, SO IF YOU ARE SMOKING, EATING, OR DRINKING ANYTHING NOW, YOU MUST DISPOSE OF IT BEFORE ENTERING THE BUILDING."

(disturbed mumbling from the crowd)

Cuja: "I NEED YOU TO STAND IN A STRAIGHT LINE AND MOVE BACK FROM THE DOOR."

(She begins shuffling people back behind an imaginary line. Obviously none of us were standing straight enough for her. After all, we only have another hour to stand here.

Now comes the fun part:

Cuja: "I NEED YOU TO FORM THREE LINES. (She walks to a centerpoint on the walkway) IF YOU HAVE AN APPOINTMENT, PLEASE LINE UP HERE." (one woman gets in that line) "IS THAT IT? ONLY ONE APPOINTMENT? YOU KNOW, YOU CAN MAKE AN APPOINTMENT ONLINE OR OVER THE PHONE, IT WOULD REALLY SAVE YOU TIME" (no one moves...Cuja rolls her eyes in disgust. She points at a GIANT sign on the wall that we've all been standing under which has the number for appointments.) I begin to think to myself, "Yeah, I've tried the online thing; it doesn't work, and I've called the number; they can make you an appointment two months from now. That will save me some time. Uh-huh. I wonder when the last time was that Cuja ever went online or tried to call. Yeah, that's what I thought.

(She moves over to the far side of the walkway)

Cuja: "I NEED THOSE OF YOU WHO ARE HERE FOR REGISTRATION ISSUES TO FORM A LINE HERE"

(Half of the crowd runs over to the line. Meanwhile, Cuja comes back over to our line)

Cuja: "THIS LINE IS FOR LICENSING, WRITTEN TESTS, AND DRIVING TESTS ONLY"

She starts pacing back and forth in front of the lines and looking at all of us over the top of her government issue MIB sunglasses. Meanwhile, the confusion begins and people are starting to throw questions at her..."what line do I get in for such and such" "what line do I get in for so and so", etc.) After she has fielded questions and people have gotten into their proper lines, she barks again:

Cuja: "THERE IS NO SMOKING, EATING, OR DRINKING INSIDE THE BUILDING, SO IF YOU ARE SMOKING, EATING, OR DRINKING ANYTHING, YOU MUST DISPOSE OF IT BEFORE ENTERING." (Uh, yeah, we got that. How about you go to the end of the line, which is in another zip code I might add, and tell the poor slobs in the back who are still partying with their cigs and Egg McMuffins?)

A woman comes up to the front and approaches Cujo. She asks her which line is for registration, and she's holding a blueberry muffin in her hand. Cujo doesn't even answer her question. Her eyes dart straight for the woman's breakfast and she says to her...

Cuja: "MA'AM, THERE IS NO EATING IN THE BUILDING, YOU'LL HAVE TO GET RID OF THAT."

Lady: "Yes, I know. But which line is for registration?"

Cuja: (pointing to the line) "IT'S THAT LINE THERE MA'AM, BUT THERE'S NO EATING IN THE BUILDING."

Lady: "Yes, I know. I'm all the way in the back of the line, it will be awhile before I get inside."

Cuja: "OK, BUT THERE'S NOT EATING IN THE BUILDING"

Jesus, Mary and Joseph...we GOT it, she GOT it, the whole friggin town GOT it already. Let the poor woman eat her damn muffin. God knows, it will be three hours from now before she even gets close to the front of the line. The door isn't even gonna OPEN for another half hour for chrissake! Did I mention to you that the last time I was here with Ave, Cuja was inside the building, going from desk to desk and eating candy out of employee's candy jars? Yes, that's right, eating INSIDE the building. This woman is definitely the poster child for Spawn of Satan.

About two minutes of blissfull silence passes and then the barking starts again:

Cuja: (pointing at the center line where the one lone woman stands with her little appointment) "IF YOU HAVE AN APPOINTMENT OR YOU'RE RE-TAKING THE WRITTEN EXAM, YOU SHOULD BE IN THIS LINE!"

Hold on just a minute, didn't she say before that that line was for appointments ONLY? Evil Cow on a power trip. Now Caris and I begin the move over to the next line as other people start RUNNING and we end up right behind Lone Appointment Woman...nyah nyah. It's now 8:45 and Lone Appointment Woman is visibly annoyed. She starts an exchange with Cuja:

Lone Appointment Woman (LAW): "If the DMV doesn't even open until 9:00, why in hell did they make my appointment for 8:45?"

Cuja: "I DON'T KNOW MA'AM"

LAW: "Well, I just think it's ridiculous that they don't even know what they're doing. This was supposed to save me time and hassle, and now I'm still late for work. Your appointment system is crap."

Cuja: (shrugs her shoulders and walks away) "SORRY"

Yeah, that helps. We do what you want us to do and we still get screwed? Right now I'm thinking about Dane Cook. The man is a genius.

LAW decides it's not worth it and storms off, leaving Caris and I in first place. Woohooooo! Cuja tells us when the doors open to go directly to Window 4. What? No number? We don't have to get a number? Hallelujah!

Doors open. Cuja starts barking again...does this woman ever stop?

Cuja: "WE WILL ADMIT ONE LINE AT A TIME AND ONE LINE ONLY! PLEASE STAY IN YOUR PROPER LINE!"

Ok, ok, ok, just let us in. 9:00 am.

We go to the window, Caris gets her papers, gets her pic taken, and is handed her test. I go sit down and contemplate the fact that I have to come here again within the next couple of weeks. Ten minutes later, she's getting her permit printed out, and then, we're walking happily out the door past all those poor people still listening to Cuja bark at them. I look to the back of the line and Muffin Lady is happily working on the last bite of muffin...right in front of Cuja. Caris and I laugh. 9:15 am

Health Spandex?

Ok, so the morning starts out crazily...just like always. I swear I don't know how these kids managed for 4 summers while I was working. Averie to a job interview, Caris to the doc to get a TB test read and pick up sports paperwork, drop Caris off at school for volleyball, back to Averie at the job site.

As Averie and I are going along, with her filling me in on the rest of the day's schedule and how the interview went, I notice this guy on his racing bike. He stops on a side street and takes two emply water bottles out of his little bike pack and THROWS them in an alley. WTF??? He friggin littered!

I was so flustered by it that I nearly pulled over and got out of the car to yell at him. I said to Averie.."Oh my gosh, did you see that?"

"See what?"

"That bicycle guy, he just threw a bunch of empty water bottles down the alley. Oh my god, he littered! That Mr. Bicycle Dude with his fancy bike and helmet and ...and...and...his HEALTH SPANDEX! He littered! Bastard!"

At this point, I'm so flustered by what I saw, that I'm literally sputtering.

Averie says.."HEALTH SPANDEX? Did you say HEALTH SPANDEX?" and she's laughing her ass off.

Now, I'm laughing because I realize what I said and it made no sense..but she understood me.

"Yes, dammit. Mr. Look at me in my Lance Armstrong bike Healthy Sporto Man shorts. You know what I'm saying."

Averie: (Still laughing) "Yeah Mommy, I know what you're saying, I just have never heard of it in those terms before."

Me: (laughing harder) "WELL, I'm mad.. and that was just wrong what he did."

Just goes to show you, spandex IS too tight and makes people do bad things. You heard it here.

Only say the word and I shall be healed...


Raphael: The angel of healing. Raphael is drawn to
injured souls which cry out for kindness and
patients. You are a sweet and caring person,
and make a great friend.


Which Angel Lays Within You?
brought to you by Quizilla

Call me Raffi.

Just Peachy!

I took the fruity fruit quiz

made by rav-chan

Check out which fruit you are

Thanks for asking.

The High Priestess casts the runes...

Your Name: Puamakana Okalani
Your Date of Birth: 09/08/1960
Your Question or Information: wife, mother, empathic soul surfer

Past Perdhro - Unexpected gains, hidden secrets coming to light, discovering that which has been lost, spiritual evolution.

Present Eihwaz - Banishing magick, removal of obstacles and delays, invoking foresight, clearing up hidden issues and situations.

Future Berkana - Growth, abundance, fertility, Mother Earth, protection, the zenith of an idea or situation.

Cast the runes here:
Rune Caster

"cool na grena"

So, I'm surfing, surfing, surfing, and BAM! I fall headlong into the intellectual nirvana of my life. I'm constantly feeling the sense that, as my friend SG would say, there's been a fuck-up at the cosmic Fed-Ex and I've been dropped off on the wrong planet (or time continuum). It's been overheard by others who share my breathing space that I think I have a target on the top of my head (so as to give the Super Powers a clearer shot at me) and I'm just the bullseye of some ethereal entertainment. A puppet, if you will. If there REALLY is a God, that is to say. So, on that plane, please digest the following:

DAZE OF WHINE & NEUROSES

Bad luck hounding you like the plague? Forget bad feng shui and astrology. There's a better expanation to all the crap you've been getting. Check these out.

MURPHY'S LAW.
If something can go wrong, it sure will.

THE THIRD MONEY MAXIM.
Just when you think you're about to make both ends meet, you realise someone's moved the ends.

FIRST EXTENSION TO MURPHY'S LAW.
If a series of things fail, they will do so in the worst possible order.

THE TUNNEL THEORY.
Just when you think you can see light at the end of the tunnel, the roof caves in.

THE LAW OF DAMAGE.
If it's fragile, you'll drop it; if it's robust you'll fall on it and hurt yourself.

HORNER'S FIVE THUMB HYPOTHESIS.
Experience increases in direct proportion to equipment ruined. (I actually like to call this one the TIM TAYLOR HYPOTHESIS).

And THAT, fellow Blogizens of the Blogdom, is THAT.

The High Priestess likes to participate!

I got these questions from Wayne, who got them from Crash, who got them from...oh, I think you get the idea.

If you want to participate, leave a comment saying "interview me" or send me
an e-mail.
I will respond by asking you five questions - each person's will be
different.
You will update your journal with the answers to the questions.
You will include this explanation and an offer to interview others in the
same post.
When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five
questions.

1) If you can be any kinds of TV commercial, what would you pick? And why?

Even though I don't like Corona cerveza, I LOVE those commercials. Always centered around the ocean, always the thought of being away from the rat race and out of the ordinary. Under a sun-drenched palapa, toes dancing in the white sand, sound of the sea tickling my senses. For me, it's not so much about the product as it is about the setting. I would more than likely be a travel commercial to some exotic locale. Preferably tropical to appeal to my cultural sensibilities.

2) If you are in a TV commercial, what kind of a PRODUCT would you be? And
why?

I may be overthinking this, and perhaps it's not quite the "pc" answer I should be giving. But I still love the idea of being away from the typical. I don't wanna be a fast car, I don't want to be trendy clothes, I don't want to be a restaurant. I'm not about materialism. Yet that is what a commercial is for, to advertise a product and encourage consumerism. I'd still want to be something out of the ordinary, but definitely worthwhile. I think I'd be a surfboard. Yeah, a surfboard.

3) If one person can use You in anyway. (If you are a specific product or
not) Who would that person be? And how he/she will use you?

I would want to be the surfboard belonging to the amazing Rell Sun. I loved her. She was a beautiful soul who left this life much too early (1998; Age 46). She was the epitome of the Spirit of Aloha. She brought an awareness of the natural resources and beauty of the Hawaiian Islands through her community activism. She encouraged women to really consider surfing as not only an athletic pursuit, but as an artform. World class surfer, world class human being. She was a woman of the sea, who loved the sea, and life, and people. She was a trendsetter who was ahead of her time, and her time to leave us came much too early. Nothing would give me greater joy than to be used by Rell to ride the waves that she loved. I'm sure she's still riding them in heaven. :o)

4) The phone rang. You picked up the phone and found your talent agent on
the other line. “Okay, based on your skills and look, we have found the
perfect role for you… We decided to cast you in….. and be……” What
film/commercial/TV series do you think you have been cast? And what kind of
role is it?

I would probably steal the idea from the reality show bandwagon, but I did get into WB's "The Boarding House: North Shore". Maybe because surfing has been such a big part of my own life, and maybe because the North Shore was home to me growing up. I would, at this stage in my life, probably be like the House Mom, since I'm too old to be a serious contender. Caregiver to the competitors that come to stay while they participate in the Triple Crown or some other event. Watch over them, mentor them, something like that.

5) The director had a bad day. He walked out of the production set. The
producer got pissed off. She looks at you in the eyes. “Okay, You. Yes You.
I want you to finish up the rest of the production. But, I want to change
everything.” It is up to you to finish up the filming. Based on your answer
from the previous question, how will you change the theme and your role?
(Yes, you have to change it no matter what)

Hmmm...be kinda difficult to change this scenario since it's such a specialized theme. Maybe we'd turn it into a comedy instead of a "serial" type drama. In fact, change it to a bunch of old timers like me. A group of middle aged longboarders who, as part of their mid-life crisis, leave their professional lives and come to Hawaii to pursue that big dream of competing...and all the aches and pains that go with the fact that we're not so young anymore. And how our families all think we've gone completely daft with sunburned brains, and do everything in their power to get us to "see things clearly". Sounds kinda like Jimmy Buffett. Instead of "A Pirate Looks At 40", it would be "A Surfer Looks At 40". Okay, so it's dumb, but it's mine. :o) And that, as they say, is a wrap.

The problem is...sometimes I just wanna slap her. Would that be wrong?


Take the SBSP test!

You're a dare devil, you live life to the fullest. You are an honest person and would like everyone to be the same. So your philosophy is probably 'do to others what you would like done unto yourself', this includes your environment.

Was there ever any doubt?


You come from the Ocean. You've always been drawn
to the sea, the sound of the waves, the crystal
blue water, near the sea is where you belong.


Where Did Your Soul Originate?
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I didn't think so.

Of all the gin joints in all the world....


"You must remember this, a kiss is still a
kiss". Your romance is Casablanca. A
classic story of love in trying times, chock
full of both cynicism and hope. You obviously
believe in true love, but you're also
constantly aware of practicality and societal
expectations. That's not always fun, but at
least it's realistic. Try not to let the Nazis
get you down too much.


What Romance Movie Best Represents Your Love Life?
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If it's at all possible, The High Priestess has had TOO much fun today...





Although she is quite surprised to find that her progeny's evil percentage is QUITE a bit higher than her own. Dammit!

...No Wayne, WE are not whores! We're just drawn that way.


Your medieval name is: Magdalen. Out of conformity
and inducing sexual meaning, you're seductive
and passionate, silent until spoken to and only
violet when provoked. Gorgeous and mysterious,
you've got it all.


What is your Medieval name?
brought to you by Quizilla


::giggle::

I AM sincerely touched!

My new friend Wayne (well, I think I'm more "new" to him than he is to me ::wink::) has linked me on his blog. Considering that I really don't think I have all that much to say, that has touched me in a profound way. Wayne, if you read this, I want you to know the worlds you've opened up to me without you even knowing it and I thank you. It's great to see things through someone else's eyes sometimes. By the way, since your commenter is currently "offline", and even though it might take me some effort to get through the thought processes that would be required, will you interview me? :o)

The High Priestess gets to go see Ellen!

Thanks to my wonderful first-born, I just received a call from Veronica at The Ellen Degeneres Show. I have been "awarded" 4 tickets to the September 8th taping. How convenient that that just happens to be my birthd....my natal anniv...oh shit, it's just that day I dread every year cuz it adds a higher digit to that number that I'm not supposed to worry about anymore. But it's gonna be a good one this year! Ellen! I love her! Have I mentioned that I love her? Well, I do. I love her! She's brilliant. And so damn cute. If I were...oh nevermind...I love her. Thank you Averie. I love you too.

The High Priestess fears the loss of intelligence...

I've spent the better part of an hour scouring "most recently published blogs" and have realized that I really have no significant contribution. I have read political blogs, religious blogs, blogs containing damning diatribe about whether Mel Gibson is a Hollywood sell-out because he caved to being "PC" when it came to his new movie "Passion" (he hired actors to portray "sympathic Jews" to keep from being labeled an anti-semite). I have read blogs discounting Janene Garofalo's qualifications to be a guest co-host on PBS's Frontline (oh please, shut the fuck up; the girl knows of what she speaks), and blogs bemoaning the homophobic tendancies of our country's elected leader (one word; agreed). I have read blogs which detailed the MURDER on Sunday of a Reuters photojournalist by US soldiers who thought his camera was a rocket launcher and therefore riddled him with machine gun bullets. On a lighter note, I have learned about the sXe movement which endorses the "Straight Edge" lifestyle of no drugs, no alcohol, no sex before marriage. I guess if you give it a funky logo and call it a "movement" then it makes it cool. Otherwise, you're a dweeb. For the most part, it seems that today I've visited blogs of people who seem to be card carrying members of MENSA.

I guess my point is this; I DO feel I've received an education of sorts today. It's probably one of the reasons why I can justify having a computer. On the other hand, I can't help but feel that the IQ test I took that told me that I was 9 points shy of "genius" lied to me. As time goes by, and the prospects for actually finding a job seem to wither, I can almost feel the personality and intelligence factor being leeched out of my system. But, I have the comfort of knowing that Sonic the Hedgehog will be the new anime addition to the fall Saturday Morning lineup. Therefore, I continue to learn.

The High Priestess is unwanted...

..by Johnny Rockets. A "thanks but no thanks" email showed up in my mailbox at 7:23 pm. They've decided to go with another candidate but hope they can keep my info on file in case it doesn't work out with the newbie. Yeah..whatever. I think I'll go get a Ruby Burger. Take that.

The High Priestess needs an energy boost. That, or a vacation.

I could use a couple of days away. Maybe that would get me out of this funk I'm in. I noticed while we were at Target yesterday that many people were buying luggage. We did that a year ago too. It was fun. The anticipation. Packing a suitcase to actually go somewhere terrific. But, that is not to be this year. In the meantime, I would like to say this for the record: Johnny Depp is delicious the second time around, there are NO Mickey Mouse silhouettes in cannon smoke blasts in that entire damn movie, Ok, you win Averie, the Keira Knightly line about corsets is cheesy, and Johnny Depp is delicious the second time around. Yes, I repeat myself...but it's true.

I can't have a vacation, BUT, I DO have beautiful new carpet AND living room furniture. I've also noticed some really wonderful benefits of that already. Ave hasn't wheezed since that evil carpet left to live in the carpet dump of the world. I walk by her room at night and while she sleeps, I hear nothing but her soft, gentle, HEALTHY breathing pattern. No asthma. Not to mention that when she has gone running in the evenings, she has come back absolutely glistening and excited. It's good. Very good. I wish we could have done it sooner.

It's amazing I think, what "new" can do for the soul. I think it causes libidos to wake up. Not mine. But I'll take whatever I can get. If new berber has the same effect as the little purple pill, then so be it. I might, however, get pretty worked up over a new porch and driveway
:::lacivious grin:::

Up from the low, down from the high, back down to the lowest low...

I guess that leaves me somewhere in between. I'm not quite sure where I am, or where it is exactly that I'm supposed to be. A little confused perhaps. I just checked, and I've sent out 53 resumes, filled out 22 applications and I've been on 15 interviews. You'd think somewhere in there, there would be a job. I've actually been to one company THREE times in the last month. They still haven't made their decision. Or so they say. Perhaps they have made their decision, but it wasn't in my favor and they just didn't want to hurt my feelings after leaving me hanging for over a month now. Of all of them, I really wanted that one. I've read the AJMs about the author having applied for every job in Orange County. I honestly believe that I HAVE done that. 53 resumes in 3 months. I believe that averages out to around 17.6 resumes per month. If there are 20 working days in a month, I've almost sent out one resume per work day. I would say THAT is an effort. But what is the result? Nothing.

I'm feeling just a bit worthless these days. I put a lot of effort into things that bear no fruit and then wonder why I suck so much because I have nothing to show for it. There aren't a whole lot of kudos for being a driver or errand runner. Can't get a job, feel like less than zero on the worthiness scale, can't even look at myself in the mirror because all I see is an obscene obese monster. I can't even get up enough joy to pretend there's joy. I'm in a constant state of pain lately with my back and shoulder and yet I feel too guilty to go to the doctor to get it fixed because there are so many other things that need attention. Haircuts, furniture, summertime fun, running people on errands. There really is no time. Time is spent trying desperately to be a supporter, encourager, righting wrongs, apologizing for everything I've ever failed at. But what is the result? In all honesty; nothing.

I understand missing friends. Sometimes I wish I had someone who truly understood me. Who I could talk to, hang with, be honest and real with. Watch SNL and eat ice cream with and who would just love me when I am unloveable. I don't have that with anyone. At least anyone that lives here. She moved back to Hawaii a long long time ago. It's a really hard thing to be surrounded by people and yet feel so very alone.

I can't remember the last time I felt good. Physically or mentally. I think it was linked to a paycheck and an outside job. In losing that, I feel like I lost what perhaps best defined me. And yet its really sad to think that way. I had some value when I brought home money. Now, I'm not really sure I have much importance. To myself, or anyone else. When the money runs out, I'll be worth even less than I do now. I'm sure that's not true. It's just the way it feels.

I remember being blissfully happy once. It was fleeting, but happy. From around January 2000, to May 5, 2001. I didn't think I would ever be that unhappy person that I was before that again. I was wrong. I fell down a flight of stairs, and now She's back. And it looks like She plans on staying awhile. She's made herself quite at home lately.

I always hope that someday, kind words would be expressed when people speak of me. I think that in my head the thoughts are grandiose. I probably give myself more credit than others do. In reality, I'm probably nothing more than tolerated for company's sake. I suck at just about everything that I thought that I was good at....being a wife, a mother. For God's sake, I can't even get a fucking job. Worthless to the very core of my being. My first roll of abdominal fat is bigger than my bustline. Food is nothing more than a drug to numb the pain, but it doesn't work. Alcohol helps me sleep, but then I wake up and the pain is back. I'm not sure what's worse sometimes. Maybe it's time to go back to therapy. At least then I get Prozac.

The High Priestess doesn't want any more rum...

Had just a little bit too much fun in relieving the very long and stressful week last night. Enough said.

Just as in life, appearances can be deceiving....

Ping Pong

Game On!

The High Priestess just wants things her way....



Is that too much to ask?

The High Priestess feels ancient....

Ok. SO, after having recovered from the stomach flu.. we've ripped up carpet, washed walls, stripped wallpaper, bought carpet, packed boxes, moved furniture, accepted delivery of a bed, scraped floors, painted, stopped and had a very nice protein filled dinner OUT, gone to a screen test/casting call, packed more boxes, painted again, done laundry, packed more boxes...I just have this to say...I'm absofrigginlutely exhausted. I'm so grateful there are no carbs in Wild Turkey....or rum. :::hee hee:::
How was YOUR weekend? :o)

The High Priestess is thirsty....


Duh. You are "But WHY's the rum gone?!"
You're not the smartest one in the bunch, but
you're sweetly appealing and you don't let
disappointment get to you. Everybody
identifies with you, because let's face it, why
IS the rum gone?


Which one of Captain Jack Sparrow's bizarre sayings from Pirates of the Caribbean are you?
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