Tuesday, March 31, 2015

Missed opportunities?

I was sitting here just now, doing a guided meditation. Running through the chakras, with one of the witches I've met lately. And when I got to the 3rd eye chakra, a face flashed behind my eyes. Someone I haven't thought of in a long while. It startled me enough that it broke my concentration completely and as I opened my eyes, I jumped. I saw clear as day the man sitting in my living.  It was the briefest of visions, but enough to rattle me.
I have no idea if I tapped into something, possibly remote viewing of the man, or if it was something less spooky?
Three is also the idea that he might have been thinking of me and I picked up on it.

One of the main points of this exercise is healing. Identifying issues that are emotionally/mentally/physically blocking you.  I can't overlook the idea that I had a missed opportunity with the man years ago, and the issues that kept me from being with him, are something I've just recently begun to face.

How do we know when a missed opportunity is truly such or if it's just what's really meant to be?

Sunday, March 29, 2015

Read the sign

Signs. Everything is about catching the signs. Sex and the City was a series based on decoding signs/signals between people. Jane Austen managed to give humour to mixed or missed messages/signs in her novels. I believe the old comment is true, we can see clearly others lives but not our own. We can miss the signs that are staring us right in the face like a screaming flashing exit mounted over the door.

By now, most people will agree, no matter if they "believe in the supernatural" or not, that when something repeats in their life, it's a sign. I still haven't figured out what the Queen of Pentacles is trying to say lately, but none the less, other things are popping up.
Turning on the tv to find the same city being mentioned on five different channels for five different reasons. Turning on the radio and having a lyric jump out at me that was directly in line with a problem I was thinking about few minutes before. Having the same number sequence repeat for an entire day until I admit/realize something, then it strangely changes to the next set of numbers that begin repeating.
I spend a good part of my time decoding signs. Sometimes because of the supernatural part of my life, and sometimes because of the SATC part of my life. (you read this blog you know what I mean)

I honestly think relationship signs are the most difficult things on the planet to decode. God knows I've screwed them up more then once. Missed some completely.
But in this case, even I am not that daft.

Repair guy was here to fix the sink. He flirted the whole time. But, was married. Big flashy ring on his finger. I actually wanted to ask him if I was reading his conversation wrong but just kept my mouth shut. He ended up leaving some of his equipment here, and had to come back not once but twice.
Both times he lingered in the doorway, still being flirty and smiling, and blushing the whole time. No one is that forgetful.

I can't wrap my head around it. Married men flirt with me all the time, but yet single men never notice me. Same with the gay men. They are massive flirts, yet again with the straight single men, nothing.

Obviously, there is some relationship sign/signal that I'm not understanding that the universe is hitting me over the head with. 

And p.s. Yes, his name was Jon.

Friday, March 27, 2015

Bad day?

I got a message from my cousin Walsh this afternoon "Was the show on last night?"

Me-:"Yeah. Why?"

Walsh-:"Just cause it never recorded. Thought the dvr was broken."

Me-:"What's up?"

Walsh-:"Nothing. Just getting off work, What's up with you?"

Me-:"Just making sauce for dinner. And trying not to have a breakdown."

Walsh-:"What happened?"

Me-:"Lost three years of my time is all."  I proceeded to tell him about a novel I was working on and how the manuscript is missing.

Walsh-:"Like what do you mean missing?"

Me-:"As in I haven't seen it since the move. I spent the day going through the rest of the boxes with paper, notes, etc in them and can't find it. I only had the one copy of it printed out."

Walsh-:"Haha! That's what backing up your work is for dumbass."

Me-:"First thing I did was put the back up in the computer. Back up doesn't work."

Walsh-:"What do you mean it doesn't work?"

Me-:"Oh my god, okay, the novel was written on my old computer on a program that is out dated, and therefore when I tried to open it on this computer, it read it as just code and symbols and is useless."

Walsh-:"Ah, why didn't you just say that. What's having the print out going to do if you can't work on it anyways?"

Me-:"Then I don't need to worry about the back up not working, cause I'll have a hard copy. But, can't find it and I spent three years working on that novel."

Walsh-:"When was the last time you saw it?"

Me-:"What part of I had it just before the move did you not understand?"

Walsh-:"Re-write it."

Me-:"I might have to try. I started writing that back in 2006."

Walsh-:"Any news on your dad?"

Me-:"They moved him to a long term care hospital."

Walsh-:"Other then your manuscript missing everything else alright?"

Apparently, my frustration was coming through in my texts. "Nope. Don't worry about it."

I finished making dinner and started to think about it, decided to blog it given it was Walsh. Biggest mistake I made was blogging about certain people and letting them know about it. They all either hate me now or just want to see themselves in writing.   There was a knock at the window, Walsh had shown up. I almost didn't let him in, but I did.

Me-:"You did not come here because I wouldn't answer you. What's up?"   He shrugged like he always does, and just hovered inside the doorway.

Walsh-:"Just out in the truck. So what's wrong?"

Me-:"I think I'm done."  he looked at me with his chin sticking out waiting. "I think I'm done trying to write. I'm 41 and the best I can show is a handful of blogs. I think it's time to just...you know?"

Walsh-:"I give you a week. Four days tops."

Me-:"No I really think I'm done. Nothing left in me, nothing good anyways."

Walsh-:"Fairy tales going well. I think."

Me-:"Fairy tale really sucks. I've sort of lost my muse again. Mad Hatter, Rebel without a Cause, Werewolf King, Dimmer, boring the snot out of me. He won't die. I keep trying to kill off the character based on Mad Hatter, and it's like the universe won't let me. Like every time I write the scene, he's standing there beside me yelling at me to save the character. Anne Rice once said that's what writing the character of Lestat was like for her. I'm being haunted by my own writing. I dream of the damned story all the time. The scenes taking over everything."

Walsh-:"Don't say that. You'll hurt his feelings."  he started to laugh then just stopped. "Okay seriously. What's really bothering you?"

We talked for awhile, me crying more than once.

Of all the stuff I've contributed to over the years online, this blog is where I've been able to be the most honest, most raw part of myself. I know more then half the time, there are readers who think I'm nuts, and I admit, even to myself sometimes I think if I was some random reader I'd think I was brain fried too.
But, this is me. The messy details of my life.   I've had readings done, horoscopes drawn out, blah blah blah, all saying that this is the big year everything is suppose to fall into place. The missing puzzle piece.  I've believed that so many times it's funny. Painful, but so funny.
I'm tired of having my dreams made fun of, tired of falling for the wrong men and getting my heart shattered. Tired of feeling like I just don't belong.
This is suppose to be a time of major communication, so this is me, trying to communicate my disappointment to the universe...and confusion.

Thursday, March 26, 2015

What's that queen telling you?

The Queen of Pentacles, has been repeating the last week and a half in my readings.  It's the card of the domestic goddess, a woman who can do everything and do it well. Basically, the Martha Stewart of the tarot deck.
I have no idea what the card is trying to point me to?  I've looked at it from a bunch of points of view, gone and compared notes from a bunch of different decks that I own, and even went online looking at what other people have to say about the Queen of Pentacles.

Just stuck.

A card will repeat until you've learned the lesson or figured out the cosmic message.  Which I guess means, I'm stuck in a stage of my life until I break through the message.
Don't you hate that?  That puzzle piece that just doesn't fit or is missing completely. And when you do figure it out, you feel both relieved and foolish for not figuring it out sooner.

The domestic goddess...this is starting to feel like another cosmic joke...

Monday, March 23, 2015

post it 23rd Monday March

Dear Mr. Scratchy:

My ear has been burning for the last half hour, and it's 9:32pm EST here.  I'm hoping it's just you and your buddies.
Anyways Herman...I imagine you checking in tonight, dressed in brown hiking boots, dark jeans, a navy blue long sleeve shirt...I'm wanting to say there's a chain on your wrist...silver...baseball cap on...chewing on a red plastic straw...

Okay Herman, as always...smile smirk and snarl.

Tuesday, March 17, 2015

just need to vent

Dear Herman:

Do you ever find that something you work on that you really dig, really put your soul into and think people will totally click with, is the one thing that gets ignored?  The whole video thing, driving me nuts. It's this horrible clique that no one wants to shuffle a foot to let anyone new in. No one bothers to watch anything unless you message them and say you are replying to their stuff. They subscribe, then unsubscribe, then subscribe again...we're not talking kids either. Most of them are in their mid-30's upward.  And oh my god, the high school mentality of it...if you talk with so-and-so, then person A won't talk to you, and if you comment in a supportive way to person D then so-and-so #30 gets huffy with you. Dude, it's starting to be so not worth it. 

I know from doing blogs for over a decade, that things I think will be total hits more often is passed over for the silly crap that I think no one will care for. Stuff I wrote because I was in a goofy mood, or bored. I'm always surprised when the goofy crap gets like 40 hits in an hour, while the serious stuff I spent hours over is lucky to get 4 hits in a week.
I guess it's true, people just want filler.

Okay Mr. Scratchy, I just really needed a moment to vent.  I'm betting not what you were looking for tonight with the check in, but...I need  want a hug.

Anyways, I think you're checking in tonight, dressed in your gear still from tonight's show. Coffee in hand, chomping on cinnamon gum. I don't know why I think cinnamon, but I do.

As always Smile smirk and snarl.

p.s. the little bounce at the end of the shoulder roll during the extra promo on the company website from Monday's show that Mad Hatter did...cute.

Friday, March 13, 2015

Friday 13th march 2015

Dear Herman:
Okay, straight up it's just after 9pm EST here, Mr. Scratchy, I need to ask, did you do something to your nose?  I know I must sound totally bonkers half the time, but when I get these weirdnesses -out of the blue pains, images, vibes- I need to know what's causing them? So, in the last hour, did you fall or get punched or have someone smack into you?  Cause I was sitting here working on the next segment of the fairy tale and suddenly felt like someone had hit me in the nose. I'm sitting here alone. Now there's this weird ghosty feel across the bridge of my nose.
You don't even have to answer-answer cause you never have before, just hit the post like five times in a row and I'll take it as a yes.

Friday the 13th. 

I wonder, do you watch yourself on tv? I bet you do. Sit there on your days off and clean out your dvr from a week or month's worth of episodes and stuff. I know I would were I famous.

Anyways, I imagine you checking in tonight, tired. Bare feet, dark underwear on, hair slicked back. Yogurt in hand. Blueberry...

Okay Mr. Scratchy, as always, smile smirk and snarl.

Monday, March 9, 2015

Insecurities to gratitude

The video project was suppose to make me feel good. To connect to other witchy types. To help find Mr. Right. So far, I just feel like I'm standing outside the window with my face pressed against it watching everyone else have fun.
Being the new person in the community sucks.

As I mumbled there last week, all the witchy-men are gay. Doesn't build confidence at finding a compatible mate. I don't understand why I'm still banging my skull against the wall? I've chatted with everyone, done the "love your work" comments when I actually do love their work, subscribed to everyone who seemed genuine at what they do; and yet, here I am talking to myself. 

Herman, I have to admit, I seem to have lost any ability to make friends. Well, guess I should be grateful that I can identify that. Now, if I could just identify where I'm going wrong... admit it Mr. Scratchy, you're secretly a witch aren't you?  Would make sense, all part of the cosmic joke. Which keeps slapping me in the face. One after another I keep meeting guys names Jonathan. But the last two, both gay men.
Can't tell if the universe is laughing at me or trying to encourage me?  Either way, I'm grateful for this space to put these post it notes. I know you read them Mr. Scratchy, even if it is just to relax and laugh for a moment.

I'm grateful Herman for you. And your buddies who I'm sure are leaning over your shoulder right now as you guys get ready for tonight's show. I'm grateful for the fact you found me, all those years ago.

Anyways...I imagine you checking in, a coffee in hand, tape falling off your wrist not secured, a plastic spoon hanging out of your mouth...no a stir stick from the coffee, dressed in black pants...track pants, and a grey shirt. I want to say a baseball cap on backwards...Igor reading over your shoulder out loud laughing, and I think he's dressed right now in brown cords and a brown plaid button up shirt.

Okay Mr. Scratchy- Herman, one of these days I'll figure out what the key is.
until then Smile, smirk and snarl.

Sunday, March 8, 2015

Post it note March 8th 2015

Dear Herman:

It's actually a lovely day here outside, -3C with a -7C windchill. Melty. Too bad we have a strict no open window between Nov - April rule on our building. Comes with a $250 fine if you're caught with windows open during winter.
Anyways, was doing a video project, which has become my latest obsession. And thought I'd come in and just write a quick note to say hey....Hey.  How's the playlist? Liking anything I suggested?

I imagine you checking in today Mr. Scratchy, dressed in dark jeans, a yellow-ish-orange-ish t-shirt with a little tear at the collar, two hoodies layered, and an iced-coffee in hand. Yeah, I think you stopped off for coffee and without even thinking ordered yourself an iced one. Or maybe you're like me and find that chomping on ice-cubes in winter time helps to relieve sinus headaches from the weather changes.

As always Herman, smile smirk and snarl.

Wednesday, March 4, 2015

Post It note march 4th 2015

Dear Mr. Scratchy:

Was thinking about some of my favourite love/slow songs. So, here's a playlist...

- Dream On by Helix
-Foolish Love by Lord Tracy
-Surrender by Trixter
-Honestly by Harem Scarem
-Red Rose by Roxx Gang
-1000 Degrees by Vain
-When a heart breaks by Rik Emmett
-Living without you by Shotgun Messiah
-Forever by Kiss
-Every time I look at You  by Kiss

That's enough for the moment. So Herman...I imagine you checking in tonight, dressed in grey pajama bottoms, a grey thermal long sleeved shirt that fits your arms like a second skin, bare feet, hair slicked back, and a cup of tea beside you. I imagine it's in a travel mug, something that you got at a gas station maybe with the logo on it, all scratched up from being used constantly. And I think you'll have a new playlist for bedtime.

As always, smile smirk and snarl.

Monday, March 2, 2015

Monday March 2nd 2015

I have this fear, that I won't know how to cook his favourite dish.

Herman, do you hear me? You Mr. Scratchy can laugh all you want, but it's a real fear. I realize that I'm going to have to learn how to cook more then vegetarian meals again. I've no illusions that Mr.Right will be a vegetarian/vegan. That's just too much of a stretch.  I mean, twenty years ago when it was the "it thing to do", yeah I would have believed that the right guy for me would have been vegan but now...there's more important things to have in common.

But Herman, what if when I met him and his favourite dessert or meal is something I've never heard of?  I don't think I could handle having to take ethnic cooking classes just to make one dish well.  I am going to have a difficult enough time re-learning how to make veal chops again, and the perfect beef gravy, and scallops, and ox tail soup. I'm totally cruising if his favourite dish is meatloaf and scalloped potatoes or thick beef and sausage chilli. I must admit, I secretly would love to learn how to make a really great roasted squab with fig sauce.  Okay not so secretly now.

I know Herman, I will ask you help a girl out. Toss me a hint or something, feeling like my apron should say "kiss the needy chick-chef" or something.

Okay, I imagine Herman, you checking in to this tonight dressed in track pants, a grey t-shirt, a hoodie also grey, with a yellow and orange argyle toque.  Cup of take-away coffee in hand, and a large cinnamon roll hanging out of your mouth.

And as always, smile smirk and snarl.