Hierophant’s blog

time it was

Dreams, dreams, dreams.

There was a girl's 10-speed that I'd gotten because it was the only one that was tall enough and long enough for me to ride comfortably. I didn't care that it was almost 20-years-old or that it was designed specificially for riding with a vagina. I spent a lot of time pondering the kickstand, though. I remember having to lean the bike to get on it, despite no bar with which to rack myself. We rode around through traffic. I had trouble keeping up...couldn't get my legs to pedal faster, as is typical with dreams.

We ended up at my oldest employer. It had been turned back into a video store. Exactly the same as before. I ran into Margo Davis there. She was in full costume. Asked me if I knew where she could get a hold of Etta James singing "When My Heart Is Covered, It's Protected". I told her I'd call my sister and see if I could burn her a copy. She was distraught that she couldn't purchase it at the video store and said to let her know ASAP because she needed it for a performance the following night. I called my sister (but not for some time...it may even have been another dream altogether) and inquired about the song. "You won't find Etta singing it. It was Dominic and the Bangers that recorded it and she only did some backup stuff." And no, she didn't have it. She wasn't really an Etta James fan, just liked "At Last". Great. How am I going to get this message to Margo. I know nothing about her and could only tell her at the bar the following evening. Oh well. She'd probably forget talking to me anyway.

At some other point, I kept getting trapped in other people's bodies. I kept feeling worse and worse because of the displacement involved in such a process. I had no choice in the matter, though. It was kind of like Quantum Leap. You think you're done and you're going home, but then you just wake up in the middle of someone else's life. The last one was a school teacher. She had to sneak around a lot for some reason. I came to find out that she'd only just been reunited with her father and that was only because her mother died. She found out that she had many siblings. They took her out to dinner. I sat at the end of the table full of strangers knowing that if she were still in this body, she'd feel just as out of place and alone as I did. I said so and I took off back to the life that she had. Her apartment was built on a slant. The entire thing was basically just one huge ramp. Wooden floors, almost as if it were the attic of a building, but as I was chanigng clothes (putting MY clothes back on instead of her yellow dress) there was a knock at the door. A knock and then a shout and them more pounding and someone was walking around outside the apartment (on the ground floor since I could see the sidewalk and the road by looking straight out) saying they knew I was in there and I was going to do what they'd come for me to do. I finished dressing and explained my situation, that I wasn't in fact who they were looking for. They understood and apologized for the intrusion and said they'd be back on the morrow to see if the problem was rectified. There were keys, a wet doll, ramps everywhere, carnivals, pushpins, letters, messages, and fast cars whizzing by through the whole thing.

And then I woke up. I worked some Sudoku puzzles for about an hour before dozing back off until noon. My melatonin will never be corrected.

sweet sangria

I feel like a total retard sometimes because I don't really operate much in the physical realm. The body doesn't mean much to me, so I feel like physical relationships are a bit lost on me. That's not to say that I don't enjoy intimacy or physicality. I enjoy it very much. I just...I'm not like everyone else. So I had a bit of a conversation to express a bit of this. I think that having had a few years to grow accustomed to and be quite comfortable with the lack of intimacy, it was messing with my head to sort of jump slowly back into all of that. I was reliving old relationships and looking for patterns. I can't tell if it's a matter of fear or needing time or...what. I feel bad in those situations because it doesn't only affect me. I can deal with my own frustrations, but to frustrate someone else (whether or not he'd admit it at the moment)...that only compounds my own frustration.

I hate talking about stuff like that, too. I picked out and practiced with words and phrases and sentences that I felt conveyed the thoughts and feelings I'd been having accurately, but as we sat there I became inarticulate, sounded scripted, and the acoustics of the voice bouncing back at me sounded as if they weren't my own. But reactions were good and perhaps I'll be able to elaborate and expand and finally come to some sort of peace about this before long.

I never pee so much as when I drink Penta water. That's really just a mental note for future reference.

No less than three times a week, I get letters addressed to Hoops. One of the very first letters came and there was no name for the addressee. I opened the envelope and found an enrollment form and a check for $75. Oops. Not for me. I plopped it in a new envelope with the correct address (I'm PO Box 6678, they're PO Box 6778...it's printed CLEARLY on the form) and dropped it in the mail. Since then, I've gotten no less than 38 letters for these guys (some basketball tournament, best I can tell). I always just write "Not at this address" on it and drop it back in the box. I got one back where my note had been scratched out and someone wrote "yes it is" instead. They didn't bother to open it and check. I decided it was time to let these Hoops people know what sort of jackasses they were dealing with. I saved nine letters in one week's time and put them in a bigger envelope with a note describing the situation. There's really nothing they can do, though. *shrugs*

Met Dan (again) for the first time tonight. For the life of me, I don't remember him at the cG meetings. Either he's really that good at being stealth, or he's changed a lot since then. It HAS been a couple years. Oh well, 'twas nice to have a personality to go with the pictures and words.

Ran into Dawn and Matt at KT's before heading to the Monkey Wrench. Randy didn't recognize me, of course. I think I've given up on even saying hi. Not out of spite, I just don't want him feeling awkward.

I think that's it. Two migraines in the past day or so. It's a bit out of the ordinary. Hopefully pictures tomorrow.

more than I ever
wanted

I laid there at 7:55, having smacked the piss out of the snooze button almost a half-dozen times, telling myself that it was either now or never. I laid there for another ten minutes pretending to doze off, but opening my eyes every minute or so. I talk about the calculus of sleep often, so I won't attempt to explain the pre-cognitive calculations that would have me leaving the apartment at 8:51 so that I could be walking into the building at exactly 9am. But I did it. Star's room was darkened. I checked the schedule posted on the door again just to be sure. Yup, Safety meeting at 9am. Oh well. I'd start working on some shoe orders until she got in and settled and made the usual page for the start of any meeting.

It took me close to two hours to get the shoe orders in. Not because there were so many, but because Stoker was taking in trucks and I (as per standard operating procedures) was the only one taking calls. That's not a slam on Stoker. I'm glad she's here when she is and she does her job well. It's not really a slam on anyone else, either, but it gets frustrating when I have all these projects sitting there and I can't do them because I'm the only one here to cover lunches and handle customers and answer questions and print tags and make signs and print out payroll forms and refill coffees and point at the salad bar when something's empty and to help with the evening front and to keep an eye on so-and-so and to make sure they don't pull soups too early and to help buffer the busy moments in departments where it's usually just the one person and to take in the trucks and count the safe and unlock the back door for the smokers and change the music and reset the host, etc. It builds, but I'm afraid that it looks like I do nothing. On paper, I don't guess I do. It's just a bunch of little things. I'm a little upset that someone was told "You know, you can't plan on using him as a crutch" when they asked if I could be scheduled one day in their department because they have someone on vacation. Yet every other department with three or four times as many Team Members can use me at their will? It just goes to show how out of touch people are with what I do while I'm here. Sure, it's an easy/cushy job. I don't have much stress, aside from the fact that more people come to me for answers for every Administrative function and would prefer to deal with me than most people on the Admin Team. I'm pulled in forty-two different directions at once, and when I ask for a little help...but anyway. That's not what I was wanting to get at. It's just that I was trying to take a quiet lunch for thirty minutes and I got no less than nine pages in the first twenty minutes. That's not typical, but it seems to be typical of my lunchtimes. At least during the day when I'm the only one here. (Stoker left to renew her driver's license.)

Despite all that. Despite coming in early and I didn't really need to. Despite not having a moment's peace (but I've had a good ten minutes to sit here and tap-tap-tap all this out, amazingly). Despite how much I wasn't looking forward to how long today was going to be...I'm in a pretty good mood.

I don't know what I happened. When Star still wasn't here at 10am, I went for breakfast. I grabbed some Maple 4-grain hot cereal thing and some coffee. At some point I noticed that Ashley-Brooke wore her hair down. In conversations with people, I've talked about how I don't think there's much I could learn from a yoga class with her. I don't take yoga simply for the stretching/health/exercise aspects of it. Yoga is something deeper and more profound. She's young. She's led a privileged life. She has her dramas, but really they're no less important to her than my stupid dramas are to me. I watched her for about ten seconds while I was getting my coffee and saw something different. She embraces the magic of every moment of every day. Sure, she's a "silly little girl" who smiles way too much and cares far too much for her foolish boyfriend...but she embraces magic. She very much believes in it. And regardless of how she dresses when she's not at work (don't ask...you'd just have to see it to understand), there's most definitely something I could learn from her. I stopped to mention her hair. She fussed with it and mumbled something about forgetting her ponytail holder, all with a huge grin. Later, she came by me in the back hallway and she squeezed my arm. To date, I don't think we've ever touched, save for when I shook her hand during her pre-screening last year. Everyone giggled that day as she waited. They dubbed her Coco (Chanel) because of her ridiculously large (non-prescription) glasses and her loud cropped jacket. But she smiled bigger than ever and was a believer in magic back then just as much as today.

This old dog certainly has a few tricks left to learn.

My goal is to embrace a little bit of magic every day. Today it was seeing Star in her chef's coat (she's working in PFDS today, I could've checked up on that meeting instead of assuming...but it allowed me to get some extra work done this morning before the barrage of pages started) and telling her she's not permitted to come over to Courtney's before I leave around 9:30. The Booj is all mine until then. Well, mine and Bland's. I hope it doesn't start raining again. The forecast says no.

Pandora's been my friend this morning as well.

I know I've said it before, but I really think I'm just going to stop eating. Period. I'll take anything I can get in liquid form, please. My body's just been so uncooperative lately. Can I blame that on the weather change, too? Probably.

I'm doing some ridiculous hip openers as of late. I've got this strange ache in my lower back. Not the kidneys. I know what that feels like. This is different. This is lower. Under my beltline. Of course it starts doing that two days before I get my yogajournal.com newsletter that focuses on the flexibility of the hip flexors as opposed to the hamstrings. I curse my hamstrings on a daily basis, but they're probably not my problem. Dammit. So...hip openers. They tend to be a favorite of American yoga classes anyway...we're all so tight and tensed up there because of our desk jobs and how often we're sitting in chairs. Sitting on the floor would be different, but how many people do you know that do that? I do it when I can, but that's not necessarily a lot. I'm sitting here, drinking tea, taking a short break from dividing up the 800 tags I have to hang by myself tomorrow.

Tomorrow. Yuck. I'd forgotten about a Safety meeting at 9am, so I'll be here for that. Then there's my 10-6 shift. I was going to leave early since I'm coming back in from probably 10pm-2am or 3am, but Peter doesn't like to check the Admin schedule (even though he counts on being on there at least twice a week) and doesn't find out until the last minute that he's supposed to close on a day when he scheduled himself off. So he called to let me know he wouldn't be in until probably right at 6pm since this would be his sixth day (meaning Admin picks up his overtime...but he'll find a way around working any of that, I'm sure). And in between work and...work, I get to go walk with Buja. Surprisingly enough, that'll be the fun part. Hopefully I can grab some food for Bland and I and we'll take him for a walk together before I grab the biggest Chai I can wrestle from Heine and then head back in to work...oooh, I guess that means I'd better load up the mp3 player tonight since I'll probably just be getting up and going to work in the morning.

I've had these movies from Netflix for over two weeks. I watched Babel the other night (I'd be willing to discuss it with anyone who so desires) and then finished the last disc of the last season of Arrested Development. Tonight I'll probably watch the Ayurveda video I got. I should watch Brenda's Jim Henson DVD he lent me, but I'll probably watch that on Wednesday since I'm off practically the entire day.

I'm rambling. But my back/hips hurt and I don't feel like moving much at the moment.

let go in small doses
but spare some for spare parts
you might make a dollar

Sleep, dream. Dream, sleep. Ever since the meeting last week where I worked tags until the wee hours of the morning and then had to be back in there at 6:30...my sleep's been all jacked. Monday night was an attempt to sleep in. It lasted all of a day and then...my melatonin kicked back in and I can't seem to do anything but sleep. I'm yawning at all hours of the day. No amount of caffeine or other stimulant helps. Seriously. But I'll get "back in whack" soon.

The dreams I've had lately are ones I need to take an inventory of when I wake up. I'm not sure if the events have transpired in real-life or not. Typically when that happens in the other world, I'm faced with something I need to fix. Some secret that's surfaced. Something from the past that's circled back around and I have to take care of it. I get scared when I wake up that it's still there. That I need to address it while I'm awake instead of just in that subconscious plane. But...why? Or how? It's rarely anything of relevance. Anything of importance. Anything of consequence. Julie mentioned that she's been visited by exes in her dreams as of late. Apparently it's something in the rapid and polar temperature changes that take place here in the Ohio River Valley during March.

Maybe I'm just hashing out the leftovers from old relationships because I'm scared that the one I'm staring at will end just the same. But there's no reason or need for fear. I don't fear being alone or loneliness. Some might say I prefer it. Anyway.

Lots of things go through my mind all day every day and I feel like I should put them here, but then I just...don't. And then I have to either whittle down a list that's a mile long or just ramble on and on...much like I am now.

Had a meeting last night at Patrick's with some work peep. I such at agenda-making, but I feel like we at least got to cover a variety of topics. And Bald Britney as the moderator was probably my favorite part. Well...that and the Boys Updates (all animals are "Boys", regardless of gender orientation). I only wish she was in full color. I'm sure I'll make more at home and give them to people just as giggles. It's funny how when you drive home after a couple drinks, you can have conversations with yourself. Practice things to say, putting feelings to words. I write some of my favorite things while under slight influence. Sometimes, breaking through blocks in your emotional circulatory system happens when you thin the blood a little. Of course I ruined it all by having another of my St. Patty's Day celebratory beer. It's a fine line between revelation and sloppy.

the truth lies between
the first and fortieth drink

I guess I should get to work now, then.

that the pain down in your soul
was the same as the one down in mine.
that's the pain,
cuts a straight line
down through the heart;
we called it love.
so we wrapped our arms around each other,
trying to shove ourselves back together.
we were making love,
making love.

Every time I hear this song now, I just want to get way too "into it". It's genius. And true. At least it feels that way sometimes. You can watch the movie version here if you want. Or you can watch Kevin sing it. The choice is yours. I won't post the Constantine (from American Idol) version or the Anthony Rapp (from RENT/Adventures In Babysitting) version, but I think Constantine has the best non-film/stage rendition.

It shows up on my mp3 player lots. It did tonight at work and I listened to it three times before I had to change the song. I get sad sometimes. Moreso lately than anytime recently. I'm not generally a "sad" person, but I feel like I'm fighting it lately. I have ideas on root causes, but who can say for certain. I have a sneaking suspicion that at least part of it is Id and Ego being jealous that I don't spend much time with myself anymore. But that's only a suspicion.

Spent almost 8 hours at work tonight. It's weird to be there when everyone leaves and still be there when they all come back. My mp3 player's battery nearly ran out. That never happens. I probably have irreversible hearing damage, but it wouldn't be the first time, now would it.

Blah. I can't hold a thought in my head for more than a few seconds. I'm worried my clothes won't be dry in time and that I'll be late to work. Of course, showering soon could help me not be late as well. I just wasn't tired when I got home and I have animals that won't let me sleep very late, so...yeah. I'm not physically tired, so much as mentally. I think too hard and too often.

I have lots of pictures I need to post. Perhaps tonight or tomorrow morning.

You said
"first let's just unzip your religion down."

I pull back. I don't do the things I want to. I remind myself that old habits die hard. Phone conversations end awkwardly, in my opinion at least, because there's that momentary silence where an "I love you" would normally slip in. I've said it quickly in the past. Not that I didn't mean it, because I did...but perhaps some things are better left to a stronger scrutiny to find out exactly where they are on a very slippery and precarious sliding scale. I'm just more careful. I'm better at feeling than knowing. Who knows what I'm talking about.

Had a date with Bland and Varla Jean last night. It was stereotypical, but funny. A good time. Not a great time, but a good time. As far as performances in drag go, she's good; has excellent voice control. The only ATM at the KCA was broken, so I didn't feel good about waiting in line just for a picture and an autograph. She looked good up close...or, as close as we got anyway. It would've been fun to meet him/her. I checked his schedule to see if he was playing in the area anytime soon...perhaps somewhere within a few hour's drive. I'd told Pants I'd make my way down to Birmingham soon, so perhaps I'll take the long way to New Orleans and see them first. I've got a couple weeks I can take off, so...why don't I? I know. It'd be silly just for Varla Jean, but maybe that'll quench my "flight" bug for a little while.

Hmm...I guess I need to check the pressure in my tires and get an oil change.

Today was going to be a decent journal entry, but it seems as if I've lost that drive for the evening. Tomorrow I'll be taking Marley's birthday card to my sister and getting her social security number so I can get her a Savings Bond. After that, Bland's birthday celebration. And by celebration, I probably mean a walk through the park, some food/wine/movies, and sleeping in tomorrow.

Yesterday they posted a 20 song track listing for American Doll Posse. Can we just say that any song named "Fat Slut" is probably guaranteed to be one of my favorites?

mama got it
all you want
big wheel turn
in a fantasy
don't you throw that
shade on me

I find words coming out of my mouth that I don't intend. It's not that they're untrue, but I had wished to maked them sound less...jaded...before they made their way to the light of day. Yes, I learned the hard way that you need to care enough to protect yourself, even if you fully trust the other person in a relationship. Yes, I learned the hard way that "never" and "always" don't exist. But I don't mean to seem like I'm bitter or angry that I had to learn those lessons. In any case, they come out and I don't stop them. Too late? Nah. "Speak the truth in love," mom always said; yoga teaches the Three Gates of Truth. Same thing, really. I shouldn't care what "people" think when I'm only speaking honestly about my past, but I do. Anyone I relay the stories to...I worry how it shapes their perception of me. I come from a long line of storytellers. Both sides of the family. Mom can't tell a story to save her life, but her dad could. And my dad. And his dad. And so on and so forth. The way my virginity was taken from me, the way I should probably have AIDS right now because my first boyfriend was fucking around, the way I'm still dealing with the fact that people I thought would always be there are usually the first to abandon you...all of it. I struggle to find the right words to talk about those things and to put universal truths on very specific situations so that people gain the most from my own experiences and so that the perceptions people have of me don't change based on what I've had to deal with.

The park was beautiful today. He didn't want any semblance of a secret because he didn't want anything to hinder this relationship we have. I tried not to pause. Because it is a relationship. And it's not that I don't want more. It isn't that at all. I just still wonder if I'm ready yet. It's like the pause when someone tells a soldier in training that he's been assigned to his first battle. You always have to consider "am I ready?". But in the end, it doesn't matter if you are or not. You can prepare and prepare and prepare...but you'll never know until you're waist deep in it. I still don't know what form I want this relationship to take, so I'm glad it was mentioned. Now the fire has been sparked and we shall see where it goes and what it illuminates. As with anyone, there are things that he does perfectly and that surprise and delight me, things that unlock secrets inside me. And conversely, there are things I worry about and have to smile and shake my head at. I bite my tongue, usually. I don't want to seem as if I'm picking or nagging. I never want anyone to change for anything I've said or anything I want. I want people to be who they are, I want people to want me to be who I am...and any relationship we have will be formed around those two individuals. Thus far...it's very much like that.

After the park, I drove to mom's. Lorie wasn't going because MarsBars BooBooBear had just fallen asleep. Nathan got there less than ten minutes after I showed up. He had his new girlfriend with him. He was born in 1972. She was born in 1987. No, that's not a typo. And it's really not all that shocking. She's gorgeous. She's sweet. She's funny. She reminds me a lot of my family. She loves games. She loves Jayde. Yes, she's young and it shows sometimes. But for the most part, I can't do anything but approve of this because she is a wonderful person. I had my doubts in the beginning. She has things she'll need to experience as she grows older and chances are that she'll leave Nathan at some point. But that doesn't mean I can't be glad that he's happy right now. I feel bad that I made a joke about the age difference at one point. I can sense that it's a touchy subject. Not for him, but for her. And this WAS our first time meeting, so...I hope no offense was taken. She seemed fine the rest of the evening. I made sure she knew I was only kidding, but it wasn't stated between us. As I was walking out the door, Nathan hollared out to me. "Did you just hear that?! Jayde looked at Sarah before you could even get through the door and said, 'See? I told you he was funny.'." It made me smile. I always wonder if Jayde knows that we love her. I mean...I'm sure she knows because uncles and aunts and grandmas and grandpas are supposed to love their nieces and nephews and grandchildren. But...does she know? Especially with everything that's happened? In a heartbeat, I would drive to Toledo in the middle of the night and snatch her right out from under her mother's nose if I thought she needed me to. I wouldn't think twice about it. We have plans to go to Ikea when I go visit next. I need to save some money for that, then. And measure the inside of my car so I know exactly what I can bring back with me. I think I'm going to modify the plans for the couch that was in ReadyMade a few issues back and put a loveseat in the other bedroom when Heather and I switch rooms. I also want to make a desk out of a door and a sheet of glass. I can probably get the desk frame part while I'm at Ikea then just modify an old door I could pick up at some antique place. I need some tools. Uncrate had a great Skil power sander a few weeks ago...I need to see if I can find it again.

Saw 300 last night (well...two nights ago as it's 1:30 in the morning again somehow). Gorgeous. I'll probably go see it a few more times. Matinees, of course. Makes me want to do nothing but work out for the next few months. Hey, if Jared Leto can go from what he was to what he is in six months (look at a recent spread he did for some magazine of the before/after shots for a part he ballooned for)...so can I. I worked out yesterday, so my arms and chest are a bit sore. My legs are worn out from all the walking I did in my Earth shoes today. I won't really have time tomorrow or Sunday for much of anything since my schedule's just so jam packed, but...I'm sure I'll do something. Perhaps the weekends will just be a break from working out and I'll only do raw-ish food. I'm not giving up my tea, though. We'll see how long this lasts. It's nice to boast about losing 45 lbs, but when you're out of shape, you still look pretty disgusting. I guess I owe Bland one for coming with me to the movies last night. We were going to go see it tonight/Friday night, but the opportunity came to see it at midnight on Thursday so I'd resigned myself to seeing it twice this weekend. He didn't like that. He wanted to see it with me the first time I saw it. I'm glad he came. I feel bad, though. When I didn't get any sleep, it was all of my own accord. This, I feel like he did for me. So...I owe him one. Perhaps that's why I can't sleep now and why I'm still not in bed, even though I have to be up at 5am for work. I was going to walk tomorrow morning, but...nah. Not happening. I'll set both alarms so I don't have a repeat of last weekend, though.

I want one of these. C'mon...who wouldn't want to crawl inside a 7-foot wide blow up ball and roll around? Don't think I won't get one. Because I will. I'll do it, dahling. I'll adopt a Romanian baby...

Hey, Mendy...come join the fuzz.

And Philly's my favorite. He sends me these:
Big Wheel
Bouncing Off Clouds
Secret Spell

the whole world
is magnified

I've been craving this garlic hummus I've had in the fridge like it's the last batch they'll ever make. The garlic marinated olives were especially...garlicky today. With all the chewing I've been doing (not so much with the olives, but with dinner and now with the hummus), I feel like I have TMJ. Not really. I can tell it's just an earache, but...yeah. It hurts like hell.

I think we can officially add Evangeline Lilly to the "list". You know...of..."women".

Advil and then bed.