Caterwauling

I could retype my last five journals if you want some sort of spell, mantra or profundity to help you deal with stress, pain, and frustrating people and situations.

Instead, because I know my audience loves my memes, I’ll give you a more serious one that speaks to me.

Mom and I have always looked at good-looking men with admiration. And then we looked over at … whatever they were with … and said, “SHE got a man?!”

Like, why does someone like that attract someone like this.

And it hit me awhile back that the hot mess feels they deserve that hot guy. So they got him.

What they do to keep him, ain’t none of my business. I’ve known and dated a lot of guys who had no idea how awesome they were.

Maybe they really weren’t that great, or else I’d be with them. That’s the going theory because I got nuttin else.

However, to put the “me” in meme because it’s all about meeeeeee (my blog, my money, my rules) …

You can’t manifest what you don’t feel you are worthy of.

Those hairy-toed bitches got it right. So why the hell can’t the rest of us?

We’re all waiting to be thin enough, happy enough, solvent enough, etc. — ready for that soulmate to see how awesome we are and sweep us off our feet.

Here’s the thing.

I meet people when I am least expecting it. When I am in pigtails waiting in line for my first coffee of the day. (Oh, The Before Times, how I miss you so.)

Of course, I exert some sort of effort. Always clean. Always happy. Always coordinated. Maybe light on the mascara and perfume, but it is nice to feel good. People pick up on the vibe.

I think in my case it’s that I never set my intention on meeting anyone. Let alone someone good.

In my tarot studies, I find EVERY girl asks me when she will meet someone.

That’s not how it works. That’s not how ANY of this works.

I can’t give you a date, in any sense of the word.

What I can do is tell you what you might want to think about doing to welcome more love into your life. Beyond scrubbing your butt and shutting your cakehole once in a while.

I’d say don’t be a Cunt Bag. But that seems to work for some folx.

If ever I do want to manifest someone again, I’m going to ask what I need to do to invite a soul connection into my life.

If I had to rely on intuition alone, I’ll attract another Twin Flame situation before something real. Damn supernovas — I can’t quit you!

But I control my destiny. I know more this time. I know I am worthy of getting at least as much as I’ve given.

In any event, manifestation comes from the fusion of the conscious and subconscious minds.

We kick our own psychic asses when we want something consciously but don’t feel deserving of it beneath the surface.

TL;DR: I deserve to receive $420,000 cash, no loans/payback/taxes needed, that comes to me in a way that supports my highest good and that of those around me. So it is, and so it shall be.

I’ll never reveal the actual treasure map to my heart. Maybe it’s that even I don’t know the exact way. But for anyone looking to have Rapunzel let down her hair extensions again, here are some things they can do or say.

1. Love your momma. I melt for men who think their mom is the most beautiful, kindest, sweetest woman who ever lived.

Not the ones I know with, or who will probably end up with, Munchausen syndrome because of their “mummies,” of course. Ick.

Some women get jealous of the “original” Mrs. (Lastname). I don’t get that. I would love to have a second mom who’s great to me, too.

Sure, I get where some mothers-in-law are concerned about who gets their family name. They want to make sure their little boy gets the best girl out there; a lot of men settle because they don’t want to be alone. My divorced guy friends often end up admitting their moms never liked their ex-wives in the first place. Go figure.

So ghouls, win her over at every opportunity … if you love her boy enough, of course.

2. Treat servers well. Tip generously. Be kind. I’ve fallen for people in such random moments. Yes, in the exhilarating ones. But I’ve fallen a whole lot deeper when the service is terrible and he gets us ALL through the meal with a smile.

Also I really love when they handle it — like when I get double onions when I said none. When he says, hey, waiter, she must have gotten someone else’s order; would you fix this please?

Swoon.

Hell that swoon deserves its own mention …

3. Those three magic words. No, not I love you. Rather, “I got this.”

Even when someone offers to take care of something for me, I say no. That’s because I don’t want to get out of the habit of doing everything. Everyone is ephemeral, and I end up “having it” again eventually anyway.

4. Saying “I got this” … and ACTUALLY HAVING THIS.

Some people are full of promises. Some actually fulfill them. Even if it’s just for a season, it’s nice to feel like you’re on a team of more than one.

5. Three more magic words. “I believe you.”

I had a situation where someone was trashing me recently. Two situations. I got some good advice — head up, mouth shut. And it passed.

Karma has a great GPS, too, so I don’t worry about them OR me.

The trash doesn’t take itself out; sometimes you just have to keep throwing it out the window till it gets tired of coming back. Someday, they’ll learn.

To have someone listen to what’s going on and say “I believe you,” “I support you,” and “I will defend you against petty people who have no reason for being on this earth other than to eventually fertilize it” …

You guessed it. Swoon.

It is said that we are the average of the five people with whom we spend the most time. So, surround ourselves wisely.

In The Days of Old, that would have been Mom, my boss, and My Boys^TM.

I don’t call the new guys My Boys. I like them just fine. I like them even more when someone from The Days of Old texts about one of the boys. We joke that I dropped them off at foster care to let someone else raise them.

For a while there, one did inspire me to be healthier, more social, more open, more free, more vocal, more me. I needed that. I took that with me when I left.

Who inspires me now? Someone else I hired, believe it or not. Has so many interests. Has boundaries. Is so smart. You don’t know how amazing they are till you take the time to get to know them, like I had the pleasure of doing.

I’ve had ordinary people put me down because I don’t care for small talk. But that’s the thing. I want to hear about big dreams and big loves and big achievements.

I want to make more deeply intoxicating soul connections. Feel the heat from unexpected sparks of light and life.

I want to know what is possible, when we dare.

Show me your extraordinary, and I’ll show you mine.

I had that once. I’ll have it again. Bigger and better this time.

With that, maybe I’m my own biggest inspiration.

There’s an email in my inbox that I will never read.

That’s because I can guarantee my last email wasn’t read. Or, at least, received.

Two different things.

Everyone gets the final say, this way.

My skin is too light now for the makeup I was wearing. I think the color was “Sun and Sand.” I’m about the shade of Manic Panic these days.

But that’s OK. Wearing a mask all the time means I only have to do my eye makeup.

I just got a cute mask in the mail. From China. That one went straight from the package to the washing machine.

Can’t wait to do a car selfie with that one. Who doesn’t love a good car selfie?

I think I’ll do a fashion show today. I have dresses I was planning to return to Ross since boys don’t like girls who like to look and feel good. So I’ll get a shopping bag, pull the stuff with tags and it will be a productive “shopping trip.”

Speaking of productivity, I am now *checks cute pink Fitbit* 36 hours into a renewed social media distancing effort.

One doesn’t have to see a tree fall in the forest to know it is proud of its refusal to stand.

Enjoy all your lies and delusions. You don’t deserve any more of my attention.

Goodnight, moon pie.

That time when I contemplated opening up my social media again and pulled The Devil, Three of Swords and The Chariot.

TL;DR: Hard pass, G.

That’s what set me off in the first place. I was trying to lie low and basically fuck off. But I got a follow that started a series of events that turned any shitheel feelings into irreverence.

I didn’t realize that till the same entity tried again to get my attention the same way.

Interesting how they have to bother me to come play with them. Hard p…

This time, the part of me that once again wanted to point out their lack of understanding, suddenly didn’t need to.

Funny how the second tag pushed me out of the very rabbit hole it was meant to suck me back into.

I lost a friendship that will never come back for as long as this continues. Or maybe ever.

Maybe next lifetime, possibly.

That’s the alpha and omega, bookended by tweets.

No hot tools for me. My hair is curly from no longer putting crap in it. Curls of Instagram, ahoy!

I’d say “at the risk of TMI,” but this is me we’re talking about …

I was rationing TP to the point of basically pretending I’m in an outdoor-concert portajohn, wasting three minutes air drying before finally succumbing to a limited number of squares.

Then out of the bloody blue, Mother Nature reminded me once again that my reproductive system is still ready and waiting for me to meet someone worth reproducing with.

The good thing about dating men with kids is you see if they can make a cute one before you take your chances.

In any event, rationing ends here. TP, not BC.

Also, I don’t want to be knocked up unless this is the sonogram I’d get …

Always clean. Always happy.

Down to my last roll. Can anyone spare a square?

Fished Bella out of the dumpster/shredder/trash compactor thingy again late last night. Forget coronavirus. For as filthy as I am after these adventures when I get in the car at night, I will be lucky if I don’t invent a new strain called cAronavirus.

*Ba dum bum tss*

I figured out that’s why she has a wound that keeps reopening. But she is super good about sitting still and letting me clean it.

My backseat is looking like a pet hotel/hospital. Not quite what I envisioned when I bought this car.

And I certainly didn’t envision having to forage for supplies. Seriously. Stores get trucks in every day but if you aren’t there during senior hour, you ain’t gettin’ dick.

Sorta jealous of all these folks who are doing not a goddamn thing right now. Like self-isolation is an extended spring break or something.

I’m not trying new recipes or playing all that much online. Not going out so what is left to post about?

I still try to pull a tarot card a day. Got the Sun today and put a piece of citrine out to attract more positive outcomes.

Had a dream this morning after a shit sleep. Saw him in a mullet, my favorite shirt and his stupid sweatshirt, but otherwise he was still him. We had a good moment and went our separate ways.

I wanted to go after him, with him. But I didn’t look back.

So I don’t know if he looked back. He’d be an idiot not to.

It’s nice to be at a place of peace with everything.