Friday, October 7, 2016

Dirty Laundry 61

Pussycat-:"Remember, Pluto has shifted and now it's all going to be death and rebirth."

Me-:"It's gone direct. It's been retro most of the year."

Pussycat-:"That's what I said, it's gone direct. hahaha!"   We were talking about the general crappiness of the last week.   "But that is odd." 

I had told him about running into my ex yet again, not once but twice today.  The first time I was standing outside freezing to death waiting for a bus, and the second time was about four hours later when I was slugging groceries home.

Me-:"Yeah, it's been all safe since that first day the other month, like I actually thought he'd moved again. Then poof, two times today."

Pussycat-:"Did he say anything? Do anything?"

Me-:"He spotted me the first time, he was like ten feet away pulling out of the parking lot, looked right at me, adjusted his mirror and then fixed his hair. Like he was wearing a hoodie and pushed the hood down, finger combing his hair and looked at me a few times before moving on. There was no traffic for him to be needing to linger on the edge of the street. Then  later on, he literally cut me off by two bloody feet when I was returning with my five hundred bags of groceries. I just don't get it? Why? After all this time, twice I see him in a matter of hours."

Pussycat-:" Oh girrrrlll! Hit that! He was making himself pretty for you! I said it before he's still thinking of you if you know what I mean."

Me-:"I don't need that in my mind. And he's like the biggest whore in town. But I've been racking my brains all day trying to figure out why the universe keeps dropping the ass in my lap like this? I think we should do a final removal spell. Just when I start getting comfortable and happy-ish; poof there he is."

Pussycat-:"Yeah that's bit on the shady side. Is it possible that he did it on purpose?"

Me-:"What move in to my building?"

Pussycat-:"hahahaha! No doll, happen to be there the second time today? Like, maybe after he saw you the first time, he just circled around all day waiting?"

I was about to say that my ex isn't that smooth, that he was never the type to lounge around after a woman, but I stopped myself. I stopped myself because I did not want to defend him in anyway.

Pussycat-:"What if the universe didn't do it to you? What if the universe keeps dropping you into his lap because he's got stuff he needs to work through? Ever think of that?"

To be honest, no I did not. I was trying not to think about anything. In fact, I had a couple of episodes of  the New Company in the machine from the past month, and randomly picked one for a distraction, just as background noise.

Pussycat-:"What colour is his hair?"

Me-:"Dark brown nearly jet black natural. Why?"

Pussycat-:"What if  he's the guy the tarots have been talking about? Have you thought about that? The Knight of Cups?"

Me-:"Knight of Cups is light brown to blonde hair, with blue eyes and pale skin. My ex has dark brown eyes and badly tanned skin. Practically orange at times. Not him thank god."

Looking at the tv screen, I realized I don't care for the conservative look my New Favourite has been sporting last few episodes. I liked the hairdo he had few months ago, when he was a few pounds heavier in the tummy and before he waxed everything. He's starting to look too much like every other wrestler out there.

Pussycat-:"The fact he did show up the second time just as you were coming back from being gone all day, that's not just coincidence. He was looking to have you see him doll. Feel free to love it! Love it doll, he was waiting for you to get home I'm sure of it."

I sat there staring at the tv screen, rewinding the end of the match as my New Favourite was screaming at the camera man, practically spitting everywhere, trying to read lips, as I had it muted. Refusing to let any of what Pussycat was hinting at infect my brain for the night, I made plans with him for after the weekend, cause god forbid you get between a drag queen and the weekend; made a coffee and sat down to work on the fairy tale. But instead, I ended up writing out this post. With the tv screen still on pause, wondering just how many cameras get mucked over by the wrestlers spitting when the ringside cameraman gets too close? 

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