Caterwauling

I feel strongly that the more ridiculous things and people become, the more gratitude we should show the universe.

Especially with so many people having a hard time finding something to believe in, it’s up to the rest of us to generate the abundance it may feel difficult to attract.

I am grateful for a good, abundant life.

I am grateful that this strange time is preparing me for an even more amazing destiny.

I am grateful that what goes around comes around, times three.

I am grateful for resilience.

I’m grateful for my biggest fan. Definitely feeling the love, very strongly. It makes me happy to be someone’s muse and No. 1 inspiration to write. You are CRUSHING, ghoul!

I mean, crushing it!

Everyone should be so fortunate. I hope that they are.

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.

If only you knew how hard it is to bite my tongue and not wipe the floor with those who so richly deserve it, you’d nominate me for a Noble Prize.

I don’t even mean to keep a cauldron of insults boiling on the back burner. It’s kind of like the protection I strap to my thigh when I go out. Only more lethal.

I’m too sweet and nice to use most of them. Everyone will tell you that. Anyone who says otherwise is delusional.

I’m proud of myself that no matter what, I can keep moving the pot out of reach. Where’s the victory in playing with unworthy opponents?

The real prize is inner peace. And mine is worth fighting for.

I’ve been quarantined since the beginning of February.

So here’s my Shazam list, mostly from The Time Before.

1. Six Feet Apart — Luke Combs
2. Behind the Mask — Fleetwood Mac
3. Banana Pancakes — Jack Johnson
4. Here I Am — Tom Odell
5. Rules — Doja Cat
6. Silver Spring — Stevie Nicks
7. Lips Like Sugar — Andrew Leahey & The Homestead
8. Say You Love Me — Jessie Ware
9. Does He Love You — Reba McEntire & Linda Davis
10. Cinnamon Girl — Lana Del Rey

Bonus (of course): Norman Fucking Rockwell — Lana Del Rey

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.

Ross Dress for Less, TJ Maxx, Marshalls, the Disney Wedding Pavilion and Delmonico’s.

I asked a friend for a random writing prompt instead of this one. She said how about you write why you are having trouble with this prompt.

Well, then. *rolls up sleeves, takes off crystal bracelets*

I have a magnificent list of places yet unseen. I made it during a new moon last year. These destinations are mystical and magical. Like me.

But why share this list for others to mock or, worse, try to beat me there? Ergo, my block.

Now I say, go for it, if that’s their thing. They’ll never have the best travel companion — me.

Now for my list.

My coven and I had big plans to take a girls’ trip to a witch town this summer. There’s a haunted hotel where our leader stayed that freaked even her out. Spirits haven’t bothered me (yet; they at least leave when you ask them to, unlike the living) so I’d really like to see if I’d be able to pick up the paranormal activity.

We had another, bigger trip in mind for next year, to visit a witch town a little further away. It’s about two hours from where my “sister” lives, so double bonus. Triple bonus that I can work from wherever I please now.

Also, I want to go home. Home-home. To both homes. So this is a two-fer. Not just for a weekend or a week. Like, I want to drive north and keep on going. Don’t look for me for a month. I just don’t know how to keep all my kitties fed when the only friend I had in the area, isn’t.

Basically my fifth destination is all the rest rolled in one. All the trips I was supposed to take for work. We had a big bonfire planned way up north, so I could meet the state (and my fellow employees) without 17 layers of clothes. Several of these people live abroad, so I was really looking forward to getting some culture in my white bread life.

I’m thinking of getting carseats and strapping in all the kitties, and doing an East Coast driving tour.

I think my familiar, Cocoa, would call shotgun …

Just as long as it isn’t another trip to the vet. God it was so hard releasing her back into the wild. Would she ever trust me again?

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.

1. Videos that autoplay. Related: Commercials that are too loud. Either way, I’m super sensitive to noise. And I can’t focus with multiple audio stimuli.

2. Chicago style. Hate it. New company uses it. If it’s the worst thing about the job, I still win. But still. HATE.

3. Hey. It is not a greeting. Hay is for horses. (And grass is for people.)

Bonus one for the times: I have always hated people who take their extended family to the grocery store. Now that my idiot governor has reopened the state, shopping for ingredients for quarantine cuisine has gotten even more dangerous. Dumb little fucks (and not so little) running around in masks like this is a game. A thousand people in Target on Saturday. I don’t like people within six feet of me on a GOOD day. If I want to get pushed around, I’ll go log into my fake social media account on the laptop I don’t use and drop an anti-Trump bomb. Same ick factor, without the cooties. Jesus, people. Are you so starved for touch and attention that I somehow seem like a reliable source?

Someone once claimed that l am anti-LGBTQIA and anti-people who seek mental health treatment (or should).

I considered the source. Which should have been the end of it.

But I got to typing about it with my “sister” and she gave me the perspective no one else has, or could have.

So I guess this post is a two-fer.

Hard to write when you have a souper-slooth reading and providing a blow-by-blow to literally no one.

But then you realize you have a fan club, and it’s easy to shine on.

Day 1 of the 30-day writing challenge is to list 10 things I love.

Just 10?

1.a. My sweet ballerina Bella who does backflips when she sees me.

1.b. My little stinkerbell Cocoa who waddles to me as fast as her short little legs will take her.

Funny, neither even cares that much about the food I bring. They just want scritches and human touch.

1.c. My Shawnee, who only wants food. And all of it. But that’s OK. He’s not used to a loving touch and he doesn’t know how to react.

1.d. Then there’s Kadie and Morris who are mean to everybody but each other. But oh, how they purr and dance and rub against each other and share food!

1.e. Bernie and the two other gray-and-black tabbies. I’ve had to train each where to sit so I can feed them without all the others eating their foodz.

1.f. Kenya, tiny little Kenya, who will ignore your big duckie ass if you try to push him out of his bowl. He’s got the tiniest balls I’ve ever seen, and yet the biggest metaphorical ones.

1.g. Cal, Magic, Baby Magic and all the others who stop by for a bite but for some reason freak out when I try to GIVE them one.

Funny enough, they all have food they love and food they hate. So now I bring five or six different flavors a night. And if you’re a wuss (BERNIE) and let some other cat get your bowl, you’re stuck with what is left or nothing at all.

2. My momma. Need I write more? Best cook. Best friend. Best any label I can conjure up.

3. My old job. The owner not only treated me like a daughter, but calls me one. I will always wonder “what if” I stayed. But being the prodigal daughter, I have a home should I ever wish to go back.

And that is what gives me wings to enjoy …

4. My new job. Honest to god, we are doing such cool things. It’s hard not being everyone’s boss and go-to psychic healer, nurse, guru, teacher, and library of fun facts and figures anymore. But I’ll get there.

We are doing something super cool this week, and I’ve been doing something else super cool for the last three weeks. Something my old boss wishes he’d done with me.

That’s validating. And it’s nice to have friends who are family-like.

5. My sister. Not by blood. But still. State lines and craziness separate us. Her daughter is a perfect mix of the two of us, oddly enough. Who needs men, really?

6. My supernatural studies. Tarot, intuition, crystals, oils, spells, candles, herbs, intentions and books. My coven. The sun. The moon. The long line of witches I’ve descended from. This all keeps me centered and grounded.

7. My apartment. Lots of good memories and meals fill these walls. Not the most ideal place to work, with too much light at the south end and none at the north, where I spend all my time. But I have four walls and the bills are paid in full.

8. My car. It wasn’t the one I would have chosen for myself, so it took me a while to consider it “mine.” But it’s taken me wonderful places, and a lot of them. Thousands of podcast hours and conversations are in the fabric. It’s the one thing in this world that’s mine, all mine. Well, except for the part the bank still owns. But I hack away at that debt like I should have done with my student loans.

9. My spirit. I always see the good in people, to the point of missing a lot of the rest. I smile with my whole soul. I love with my whole heart. I work with all my passion. And I play like I’ll never have the chance again. When I say my nightly prayers, I acknowledge that I might not wake up, but I sure hope that I do because there’s more life to live and I can’t wait to greet it.

10. My mind. I can usually get out of any jam. I can dazzle just about anyone with my memory, my stories, my ability to think five steps ahead. My favorite is when people think I missed something or didn’t anticipate it or, gasp, I didn’t see it in the cards. Sure, I move so fast I miss things. But sometimes I see the oncoming freight train and run right at it anyway. Do it for the story, I say. And boy, do I have those.

11. My body. I’m healthy and strong and flexible and resilient. It gets me where I’m going, and it has all the memory of where we’ve been.

Ok so more than 10. Not a bad problem to have.