{insert Expletive Here}

I don’t now which god of karma (you should pardon the pun) that I pissed off – but could somebody please point them out so that I can make the correct propitiation?

My goddamn car is DEAD. Actually what I should say is ANOTHER fucking car of mine is dead.

Let’s see…let’s count these up, shall we? Since December 2000.

1989 Toyota – electrical issues ($800 of them, thank you very much)
1982 Hyundai – bought it for $1000. Threw a rod on the way to DFW. Car dead.
1994 Toyota – just bought it. One week later I got smashed into on the lower deck of 35 in a hit and run. Car dead.
2000 Metro – won’t start, electrical problem. $580
2000 Metro — yes, the same car — a month later. Starts. Can’t get it out of Park. Transmission issue. And who knows how much that will cost.

I am going to be calm about this because getting angry will not accomplish anything. I think instead that I will go over to the park by J’s house this weekend (the middle of North Austin Suburbia Hell) and practice my whip. It will scare the locals, it will be violently energizing and I’ll feel tons better.

In the meantime….*deep breath* I shall persevere.
But, I’ll tell you what. This was the WRONG week for my boss to let me know that they are adding “customer tech support” to my job duties because of the Helpdesk overflow problem.
The WRONG week.

Advertisements

Tired Tonight

It’s been awhile since I written anything of substance. Anything that had meaning or relevance. I poke my head into Journal-space, read up on m’friend’s lives, maybe take a silly quiz and post the results. *sigh* Not a very good way to maintain a journal.

I dreamed last night that I was in a hotel. It (the dream) was very gray and umber and sienna. In trying to describe it to BFF, The closest I could come was “it was terribly X-filean”. I hate using a TV show as a description but that’s the best I could come up with. Everything that I saw, I just took for granted. It was gruesome in places but, not shocking.
At any rate, I was going through the rooms of this hotel looking for something. Not sure what. I came to this one room and there were these huge cocoons with people inside. I knew that they’d been injected with a venom that was causing them to liquefy so that something could drink them. But, as I said – it didn’t shock or alarm me. Just something that I knew and made note of.
That’s about all that I remember of the dream. The weirdest part to me is that what disturbed me the most about the whole thing is that I was more upset by the colors than anything else.

My cat’s looking at me from the pile of clean laundry next to the desk that I keep meaning to put away. She looks so comfortable. I’m not-so-secretly convinced that she’s a plush toy brought to life. No other cat I know has fur as soft, as thick, as luxurious as she does.
Behind me on my bed, my daughter sighs in her sleep. I told her she couldn’t sleep in my bed; that she had to sleep in her own room tonight. “I want snuggies” she replied. I’m such a marshmallow.

It’s quiet and dark in here.
I hear outside noises. Voices, doors opening and closing. Car sounds. “the People” the Girlie calls them. The folks who live in our apartment complex.
“Girlie, what’s that noise?” I ask.
“The People.” she solemnly replies, eyes wide.

I feel like grieving tonight – I’m not sure why. Not that I don’t have reasons for sorrow. I do. It just seems like a night to grieve. Not in an over-the-top beating your breast kind of way. More of a deep, quiet river of melancholy that winds through my soul. so much has happened in these last few weeks, months.
I realized yesterday how and still September 11 affected my world view. What did it take? A couple of jet planes running maneuvers over the place where I work. They were very low; and running in circles. They passed overhead 8 times. Each time they did, my heart froze a little more. Nobody else seemed to notice or care. I can put it off to my paranoia but what caused the paranoia in the first damn place?

Today is my mother’s birthday. I gave her a call and wished her a happy birthday. She told me that she’d already gotten her gift.
More time with Dad. Poppy, as my kidlet calls him.

Dad had surgery last month. 3 weeks ago, actually.
Details, details…the devil is in the details. My father has a whole string of things wrong with him. ‘4 outta 5’ is how he puts it. Congestive heart failure, morbid obesity, high blood pressure, sleep apnea, insulin dependent diabetes, cirrhosis of the liver (due to his weight), capillaries seeping blood in his stomach because of the liver damage. He’s 59.
The doctors were not optimistic at all. They told him that he had 2 years (maybe) to live if he didn’t have the surgery.
Do you know what’s involved in a bypass? what about a triple bypass? He came out of the surgery with staples in him to hold his chest together.
I know that he is ok. I know this because he did amazingly well in the surgery and recovery. I know that he is fine.
That doesn’t change the fact that someone had to saw through my father’s chest so that they could hold his heart in their hands.

I can remember Dad sitting in the garage fixing my bike chain. He’d invariably (at the time) have a Kool King 100 burning, hanging from his lip. He always sat cross legged – tailor fashion.
Sometimes when the smoke from his cigarette curled just right around his head, catching the sunlight he’d look like some god of ancient times. A big god, a laughing god. A god who liked to fix things; and who loved to eat. A god who made the best cannonballs in the swimming pool, ever. The god of my youth.

He’s ok – he went home in record time. Of course he’s sore and weak. But according to the doctors he’ll be better able to shed the weight and attain a far more healthy state. Far more so than the state he’s been in for the past forty or so years.

I must go and bathe and get ready for sleep. I think I need snuggies too.

Spring Cleaning, part the second

Very mellow day/evening. Listening to the Ramones as I clean house….the music naturally swings into ambient/trance stuff as I sit down to write. It’s been that sort of day. *happy sigh*

I’ve had a nice day today. Went to b’fast w/BFF to what used to the Bluebonnet. Then we went our separate ways — only to run into each other at 1/2 price books. It’s always lovely to go to a bookstore on someone else’s money. I’d gotten a gift certificate for my bday some months agone. I found it whilst cleaning today and out the door I went! Goodbye laundry, hello bookstore. But I couldn’t berate myself too much for being a slacker today. Even though it was brisk…ok, even tho it was damn cold outside…the sky was beautiful – -all those clouds racing by. I love the wind. I love how it feels against my skin; how it feels in my hair. And how it always seems to blow my soul clean. I realized that we are halfway to March already. When I got into the car – the radio played only good tunes. I turned to the eighties station…Depeche Mode told me to “Enjoy the Silence”,…I turned to the dance station and “Voodoo Nation” poured out of the speakers.

 

At any rate – once done w/shopping for books I came back home and went back to being industrious again. Yay, me! I’m even going through all my clothes and putting some in bags to take to the shelter. For those that know me — BIG step. I’ve got clothes from the early nineties in my closet. Taking up space, cluttering things up; gone now! In a huge pile soon to be converted into a bunch of plastic bags full of clothes. And baby clothes my Girlie has outgrown. A very productive and happy day for me.

Tired of typing now. Must rest.

Spring Cleaning

Driving home yesterday was so beautiful in a way that I’ve only ever seen Texas do. These moments almost unfailingly come when I’m thinking about all the reasons why I hate living here. And then BOOM! the Moon peeps from behind racing clouds shining cold light on a lone tree in a field. Or a deer goes bounding across the 2 lane that I’m driving, giving me a look that clearly says “where in the hell did you come from, anyway?” Or as in the case of yesterday – the wind causes the dead brown grass growing like patches of fur on a lion with mange to ripple and undulate. And then its not dead and brown anymore – it’s Rumpelstiltskin’s thread & it flickers with golden life.
The wind pressed up against the car like an overeager groom on his wedding night trying to find an entry. My light little car (all in white, no less – how appropriate) – acted like a terrified virgin. She kept skidding over and trying to jump into other lanes as the wind groped her.
I drove mesmerized for a long time – just watching the wind scud the clouds across the sky and the grasses along the side of the road. I cracked a window to let some of that wind in – to blow clean my soul, so to speak. It was cold and bracing — powerful. And the car quieted as the wind filled her.
And whether I want it to or not, I begin to think that the dreary winter really will end.