Saturday, February 25, 2017

Dirty Laundry 67

I just got a message from Marie asking me if I knew who the new tarot reader at the cafe was?  I didn't. Have to admit, little bit hurt to learn they hired someone new. Could be why my ears have been burning for the last 3 days, not too sure.  Could also be why I feel like something has shifted last few days. At first, I thought it was just where the temperature has jumped and the pressure has dropped. But, it would seem it's something more than just that.
I just finished reading a book, one that I had read 20 years ago. Found myself crying a lot for some unknown reason while reading it this time. It's not particularly a sad story, but for whatever reason, this time around it really got to me?

And if you're wondering, no I never did hear from Yoga Guy. Then again, I wasn't putting any stock into it. Not to say it wouldn't have been nice to finally get back off the shelf, but I knew the second Pussycat told me he'd tried to play cupid that nothing would come of it.  Love him to death, he's got a good heart. But really crappy taste in men.

Jane Austen once said "for a woman to find the perfect guy, she has to write him herself".  Fits right in with my Frankenstein themes.  Would you be shocked to know that I can't even hear myself think right now because I've got my music blasting in my ear phones? Have to, the neighbour's on the other side of my kitchen wall, are going at it like rabid dogs. Seriously, I guess someone took the blue pills instead of the red.

Wednesday, February 22, 2017

post it note Feb 22nd

Dear Mr. Scratchy:

Deep breath, letting my shoulders slump, eyes closed. It's been one of those days where I've taken in everyone else's energy.  Which for me, keeps me distracted from writing. My one real love.  Anyways, I keep being told to step out of my comfort zone if I want to actually change my direction in things. I have to confess something. I've been sober now for almost two years. Yeah. no painkillers, since April of 2015. Round the same time I stopped watching company number one actually. But I digress. Damn, I had been living on those things since I was 10 years old. So roughly 30 years of my life had been spent on Demerol and Oxycodone.  I've talked about my injuries so that's really not much of a shocker.
Stepping farther out of my comfort zone, which I'm sure will be laughable to you, but I spent the other day commenting on people's youtubes. I don't comment. Ever. I just panic when I simply think of leaving a comment and never do. It's got the same irrational effect on me as phoning a man does. Sets off a fear and cold sweats. So for the first time, I spent an hour on some of my favourite youtube channels and actually left comments. 6 goth fashion tubes, 4 cooking tubes and 1 wrestling tube later; embarrassment filled but lest I didn't vomit, so that's good.  I know, I've become such an emotional hermit, and you wonder why I blog so much?

I'm not sure why I continue to address these to you Herman. We both know you're more of a figure head now than an actual man anymore. Which pretty much seals it in stone you are/were who I thought you were back in 2008. But addressing 'to Herman's buddies who might have taken over the role' is a bit long to write all the time. But hey, there has been like 5 actors over the decades that did play Herman Munster so what the hell right? The metaphor is very fitting.

Anyways, Mr. Scratchy, I think you're checking in tonight, dressed in a pair of green boxers. Yes, green. And I believe you are wearing a black t-shirt with mustard stains on it. I believe you are sitting with a cup of coffee beside you and a plate of nachos. Yes, nachos. I think you're having a real relaxed sort of night. Maybe have a Doors cd on in the background.

As always, Herman, I hope I made you smile.

Dirty Laundry 66

Pussycat-:"Tell me how it went with Yoga Guy?"

Me-:"He never messaged."

Pussycat-:"Really? I'm sure he will still."

Me-:"Okay sure."

That's how my morning started. Smooth when you think about it. Then, Marie messaged, asking me if I've had any issues with facebook lately? 

Me-:"Haven't been in there in months. Can't say."

Marie-:"Can you please? I'm having issues with messages in there. I sent one to buddy and he hasn't answered. I need to know it's working."

So I did. Everything ended up being fine, the message to her went through, her message back to me went through. Smooth right.  Yeah.

Me-:"Why wouldn't he be answering? You get into a fight?"

Marie-:"No. Don't know?"

Me-:"Has he asked you yet this week about going to Vegas?"   This guy lives there, and about three times a week, he tries to convince her to join him.


Me-:"I'll take that as a yes. Why do you keep turning him down? He's going to stop asking soon."

Marie-:"Everything in it's divine time remember."

Me-:"Yeah, well I've got no mind for being patient."

Marie-:"So tell me about your guy?"

Me-:"What guy? You been chatting with Pussycat?"

Marie-:"No. Why what's going on there?"

Me-:"Nothing. He's been playing cupid so nothing."

Marie-:"No, I mean the one I saw the other week for you. The one with the light hair and the pink and yellow."

So this was one of those random moments Marie, who is a witch/medium was referring to.  I'm lucky to be accurate once out of twenty when I get those random tarot moments. But Marie, she's scoring 100% every time. This happened about two weeks ago, we were talking about her daughter in law, when she just started giggling and snorting back a laugh pointed at me and declared "there's a new guy, yellow and pink and he's got light coloured hair. Pay attention."   Which, of course could mean anything. So I'm suppose to be on the watch for a guy with either light brown hair or dark blonde hair or red hair or white hair or dyed pink and yellow for all I know?

Me-:"Nothing. I'm starting to think that all the straight single men on the planet have been vacuumed up into oblivion."

Marie-:"This new guy, he's a keeper so keep an eye open."

Me-:"Eye open for a flamingo got it"

Monday, February 20, 2017

Dirty Laundry 65

My phone rang. Scared the life out of me cause other than my mother, everyone else texts. So it rang, and the caller id said it was the hospital. I went to full on panic mode. Ended up being Pussycat.

Me-:"What happened?"

Pussycat-:"What. Nothing, lost my phone so stopped in here to use the phone. Oh my god, I couldn't even think where to go to find a phone anymore. They need to bring back phone booths for when stuff like this happens."

Me-:"You bastard! What do you want?"

Pussycat-:"I met a guy!"

Me-:"The guy from Valentine's?"

Pussycat-:"What? No doll, not him he's done. Done had and no repeats remember. No I mean I met a guy for you."

Me-:"I'm not interested."    as much as I love Pussycat, I'm not sure I want to trust his taste in men. Which is sad, cause if he were straight, I'd be totally after him. Yeah, dude, that's messed up I know. The irony is not totally lost on me.

Pussycat-:"You know it cost 75 cents for this call? Oh my god, I remember when it was 10 cents for local calls."

Me-:"Well, like you said no one needs phone booths anymore."

Pussycat-:"Well, they should. Make it so much easier for when you loose your phone. But, you need to meet this guy, he's perfect for you. He's a bartender..."

Me-:"I'm not interested."

Pussycat-:"Shut up and listen. He's a bartender, met him in my yoga class. Girl! The ass on him was like a big slab of butter! I wanted to cry his ass was perfect! Like that guy from that superhero movie the British guy Cubberbutt or what is his name?"

Me-:"Benedict Cumberbatch."

Pussycat-:"Yeah that guy. He's hot."

Me-:"Yes he is. His butt is little on the flat side for me but...all puns intended."

Pussycat-:"Well I think it's perfect. Anyways, he's got a beard, long dark hair..."

Me-:"I'm really not interested. No seriously, I hate long hair on men. I'm not overly thrilled with beards either." 

Pussycat-:"He's just gotten divorced..."

Me-:"I don't date divorced men either. Give up. Thanks for thinking of me, but everything you just listed, I've dated before. Like, broken my own rules gone against my gut instincts and massively regretted it; dated before. I'm grateful you thought of me when you saw him, but he's not my type in anyway."

Pussycat-:"Okay miss thang. Miss king shit. What then is your type?"

Me-:"For starters, short hair. And I mean short hair, like if it's at the collar it's too long. Clean shaven, thick thighs. Bit of a tummy, chest hair. Men who look like their age you know. I don't want to be with a guy wondering if I should be blowing him or burping him. That too smooth skinned waxing thing men do way too often is a turn off."    when guys are like walking skeletons that's a turn off too. I've lost a lot of weight in the last year, but I have this thing about being with men who's thighs are at lest as large as my own.

Pussycat-:"The Salesman had a beard."

Me-:"Not when I first met him he didn't. And he only had the beard for like a month before he shaved it off again."

Pussycat-:"Well, pretend to be interested because I gave him your number told him to text you."

Tuesday, February 14, 2017

Dirty Laundry 64

Pussycat was drunk when he called me. Yes, called me. Not texted, but actually phoned. That's how drunk he was.

Pussycat-:"What's your perfect man?"

Me-:"Don't you mean who?"

Pussycat-:"No. what? I'm going to find you someone tonight! Girl!"

Me-:"I'll believe that when I see it. Where are you? I thought you were on a date?"

Pussycat-:"Later, later not till he gets off work. I'm with my girls."   he actually meant his drag queen friends. When he's with actual female friends he calls them by their names. "Pub crawling doll. Tell me!"

Me-:"God, I don't even know anymore."

Pussycat-:"We're going to the next one now cause, it's all good baby. I've got your instagram up dolly. I'm going to be your fairy godmother get it. Fairy. I'm your fairy god drag mother."  he mumbled something I couldn't catch and ended the call.

Here's the thing about Valentine's Day. Most people don't realize it started off as a pagan fertility rite. Names would be put into a bucket or bowl or what have you, and people would randomly draw a name, then go off and have sex. So if a half dozen couples had been trying for a long time to have kids, and nothing was working, this was their chance to see who was the cause of not having kids, without cheating. Really romantic right? Some places used masks instead of the draw. Which is where part of the whole masquerade ball came from. Party goers would have these elaborate masks and without knowing who, they would hook up with someone. Good in some ways I suppose, bad in others.  And lets not forget the fact, the sex rites were to make sure the crops were good for the coming year. Sex magick is still the best way to add energy to a spell.

Pussycat called back shortly after 8pm. Again, asking me what my ideal man would be. Again, mumbling something and having the call end. I think he was trying to show people photos while still trying to talk on the phone? Yeah, like I said, he's already drunk.  Which is sad in itself. When I met him, he had been two years sober. Now, he's toasted a lot.

So while he's being him tonight, I'm sitting here listening to the neighbours sneak into the hallway, and talk to the people they are having affairs with, or the girlfriends they have out of town, while the other neighbours fight over what restaurant they are going to, and why they feel disappointed by the lack of attention. Etc, etc, etc.

He called again while I was typing this.

Me-:"Norman Reedus. I like guys who look like Norman Reedus."   well, doesn't everyone?  He wouldn't know who any of my wrestlers are so there isn't a point in telling him.

Monday, February 13, 2017

post it note Feb 13th 2017

Dear Mr. Scratchy:

It's 9:30pm EST where I am, sitting here trying to write the next piece of the fairy tale, yawning my head off.  I posted something few weeks ago on that blog. It got five times the normal amount of hits in three hours, than I get for a post in a full week. I will assume you saw the post and know what I'm talking about. I have to admit, Herman, the fact it went unanswered sort of left me deflated.

Anyways, I just felt the need to write a quick note. Just to say hey. So hey.  My friend Marie was running the psychic fair this weekend. She told me that most of the clients wanted to know about if they were going to meet a new boyfriend/girlfriend this year? There really is only two things people want a reading for, and thats to find out about love or money. Pussycat and I had a small bet going, that he would be asked out before tomorrow night. Just when he thought he'd won the bet, one of the guys who used to be a regular at the cafe texted him. So I win. The craziest bit of serendipity happened during my chat with Marie. I commented about the blog post and the number of hits, and she quoted a line she'd heard from a song once. "That you need to remember when you're dreaming of someone, there is someone out there dreaming of you". Neither of us could remember the song or the band or what have you, but it made me smile thinking of that idea.

I imagine you checking in tonight, sweat pants, and an orange-yellow shirt. Some faded logo on it for one of your buddies. I think you've got a bowl of instant ramen in hand, and a banana.  Don't ask, I have no idea why. I also think you've got a radio station on in the background. Oldies station. 70's music. I believe your hands are covered in paint. Cause I think you've taken up painting again. Shades of black-blue and coral. The craziest part of this is that I want to say your painting something for your grandmother.

Well Herman, Mr. Scratchy; good night and I do hope once and a while you maybe dream of me. It's comforting to think someone does.

P.S. Tell New Favourite, I just discovered his old comedy show. Unless you're which case Herman; I don't know what to say.

Thursday, February 9, 2017

Dirty Laundry 63

It's been one of those days again, where I couldn't keep up with the texting. I got a message from my cousin Walsh asking me if I was okay.

Me-:"Yeah, why?"

Walsh-:"My mom said you fell. What happened?"

Me-:"For once nothing. Wasn't me it for once. It was my sister. She was walking their dog and slipped on a patch of ice. Broke her tailbone and tore up her knee."

Walsh-:"Damn eh? She needing surgery?"

Me-:"Not sure yet. The doctors told her to come back in a couple of days when some of the swelling has gone down, cause the x-rays weren't clear."

I barely managed to sit down with my coffee when I got a text from Pussycat. 

Pussycat-:"The Salesman was asking about you!"

Me-:"Oh? When was this?"

Pussycat-:"This morning. I bumped into him at the fancy tea place in the mall."

Me-:"Yeah, I bumped into him last week too while I was there. What was he saying?"

Pussycat-:"Asked how often you go to the occult shop and when you might be there again. He's so still interested!"

Me-:"Have you ever actually seen him there? Cause I haven't. Like ever."

Pussycat-:"No haven't either."

When I had bumped into him last week, I commented on a necklace he was wearing, mentioning I'd seen something similar at the occult shop. The Salesman told me he hung out there all the time. But I've never seen him there. Nor has any of the staff mentioned seeing him. They are starting to play matchmaker, and last few times a new guy has come through the shop, they've messaged me. The Salesman has never been on their radar.

Pussycat-:"I told him you should be there on the weekend."

Me-:"What you do that for?"

Pussycat-:"Cause doll, he likes you"

Me-:"Then why not just ask me out the other day? Or ask for my number?"

Pussycat-:"No idea. But go find out."

I couldn't get the whole thing off my mind all day. I haven't thought about The Salesman in months, and suddenly he's popping up like weeds. I texted my cousin Walsh.

Me-:"Do you think I should bother with The Salesman again?"


Me-:"Okay, why?"

Walsh-:"Just a gut reaction."

Me-:"Can you explain that?"

Walsh-:"Not really."

Me-:"Big help thanks."

Walsh-:"You asked."

I have to admit, I need to know, when I walk into a room, the guy I'm there to see is happy I'm there. To actually see that look where I know the guy is having that butterfly moment, because he's near giddiness that I'm there.  The Salesman doesn't do that for me.