Elevator Confessions 7/2

Elevator Confessions:
* I confess I cannot abide inferior adhesives in any form, but specifically, cheap tape. Godamighty, bring Dollar Store tape in my house and you will be excused. 
* I confess that I'm on the fence as to trying to decide if there are more assholes inside the house or out, but considering it's just me and the two cats, I'm thinking it's in. 
* I confess that I know that I would be a great personal "handler" for either someone wealthy, busy, on tour, or all of the above considering previous engagements, language skills, willingness to fly, "go" bag preparedness, and tanks for both shenanigans and fakery up with which I will not put, that can be shot up or down with a simple look, I'm kind of a keeper. Add to that I'm a decent shot and can look at a city map once and get the gist, I can drive on any side of the road, don't get seasick regardless the size of the vessel or wave, and will bait, catch, clean, and cook my own fish. Shit was that a resumé?
* I confess GREAT PRIDE to have picked Everton Football Club as my "Home Club" in the EPL. after much trepidation, asking so many opinions and getting so confused, After loving them through the season, they pulled a not too shoddy 5th in Barclay's, went on to Europa League.Then, USA side made into the World Cup and Our ‪#‎TimHoward‬ goes and breaks 2 footy records. First, with sixteen saves in a 38 shot onslaught match against Belgium, pity someone else couldn't have managed another goal to have lipped his stunning performance at the Keep. That said, not damn shabby at all for a bloody 35 year old who earned his 104th cap, breaking the American record, in the same match, as a sufferer of Tourette's, and supporter of Ink not Mink. Well done love, bloody well done. 
* I confess to wishing that I could write FOAD letters for a living. 
* I confess to being really pissed off at people who say they 'get' me and really don't, but insist, and seem to be thoroughly convinced that they do, then try to convince me further with how well they know, which, in fact, just pulls more dirt out of the hole, up into the air, then back down on them. Oopsie.(There are some of you who actually DO get me, the two insisters who don't, can't see these anymore.) 
* I confess to having made a couple of forays into the online whatever THE FUCK that is they're calling 'dating' these days and there will be a photo comment as to how I feel about that. Maybe several.
* I confess to watching a LOT of episodes (I think all) of CATFISH the show) and if you DO give me your phone number, and I am remotely interested in you, I AM going to look you up, It is neither creepy, stalky, or weird. It is called being SAFE, and holding your ASS to a level of integrity in that, I expect ZERO violent convicts or shady fucks near my life.
* I confess to having an ongoing struggle with read, journal, write. Gonna have to start using a timer, or at least stop arguing with myself about it in public. 
* I confess I have an acquaintance who believes that e-book publishing is not considered "being published." I'll make sure that the cruise it pays for isn't considered a "cruise" either, or a "house," or a "BMW". Wonder what we're going to "consider" the solar-powered electric fence…
* I confess that VA hold music is not music. it is seizure-inducing torture that attempts to get one to hang up in under 3 minutes. 
* I confess to honestly believing that some days, the VA and DMV randomly switch out employees. The examinations seem equally perfunctory, the questions equally asinine and unrelated, the humans as bored and uninterested in your presence. Same badges… same number system… red pens… lots of paper….equal amount of actual things accomplished… SHIT I MAY HAVE FOUND THE BACK DOOR TO THE SENATE!

Rube Goldberg and Organic Relationships

ALERT: I am by no means an expert, a therapist, or even someone whom I would say has been in a hugely successful relationship, but I will say that I am experienced in that I have seen a vast spectrum of them.

I've been out of a relationship for some time now, and thinking about new ones. I don't get out much, I am awkwardly shy at times, so I have been half-ass browsing on line. Yes, the only thing I have ever done half-assed. There are some odd damn birds out there. People who want to meet immediately, people who want to drag it out, analyzing each and every step like a chess match. People who immediately want to invade every aspect of your life, and people who… you wouldn't want around your livestock.

In speaking with some of these folks, and in watching all of the past and current episodes of the show Catfish on MTV, there is a very skewed vision of relationships these days. It's like everyone believes they are Rube Goldberg machines. Set up as if/then quantum potentials with known outcomes at every juncture. Yes, there are some that have known quantities. If my girlfriend goes to work at a strip club we will break up on the spot. No ifs ands or buts about it, zero questions about great money and getting ahead, fantastic vacations. I could give two shits, it ain't going to happen in my world ever again. That said, not every relationship is a specific chain of events. For example, why would someone go on line, put in their profile that they are a "hopeless romantic" looking for a relationship, and then be asinine about 'what' a relationship is by the very definition, and then immediately say that they do not want a relationship? For Fuck's sake, tell me not with me. Tell me that you've met someone else, that you're only capable of focusing on one person at a time, but do not unload your shit truck  at my door step, and tell me that something is wrong with me, a person you met in person 3 weeks ago.

A relationship, in my humble opinion, should be something that grows. An organic entity that develops between two people not by force, not by labor, not by gravitas, not by grandeur, gifts,  nor good words. It should evolve as the individuals within it evolve, changing, growing, adding layers, and releasing other layers as they become unnecessary, together and separately. Each relationship between individuals being totally different, uncompromising in their approach to respecting one another, being kind, being sweet, and being understanding of the individual that approaches that relationship.

I honestly think I would rather be alone now than have it any other way. I don't want to be in a machine. I don't want to be quantum projection. I want a living breathing organism filled with joy, abundance, sweetness, love, happiness and above all kindness and mutual respect; that, or nothing at all.

Next blog on Crazy Makers I promise LOL

When my guides disagree with your guides: Riding an Ass Down the Spiritual Canyon

Sub Title: The Lady with the Spiritual Pants
A hundred years ago, I worked in a very unique place of business. It was geophysical to metaphysical. We literally sold maps and flags of the world and maps and flags of the universe. We were a set of odd birds there. Switching gears from selling different guides, reading people as to what kind of tourist of the Ukraine they were going to be, and the next customer, do we sell them the quartz we founding the parking lot or the one we just picked up from a personal trip to Brazil known to not be regularly handled by anyone in the store? This was my JOB. My daily routine of clocking in and while someone would take the time to look up "you know, that purple book, that's about this big, by that lady who talks about angels," I'd be to the shelf and back with said book in hand, taking the customer back to the section, getting that 'read' and asking questions telling them about similar titles. It was a joy to work there.
We also had Psychic Fairs. At the old location, it was in the store space it was across the way, very manageable. At the new location, it was a mad house. Still fun but a madhouse trying to keep the sections separate. We had a variety of methodologies. Horary astrologers, regular astrologers, Tarot readers, angel card readers, Native Shamen, Aura photography, the practitioners changed every month but we had staples. One woman put down tarot cards, but she didn't need them at all. To this day, if I need a check in that's who I would see. She keeps telling me, "you know this is as well as I do, and as clear as I see it, but I get you're just getting a second opinion." YOUBETCHA.
There were a few readers that rang true for some folks that were regular clients, but I thought they were a load of crap because I knew their personal life was interfering in the clarity of the readings. That person tended to attract only people who were going through major drama with relationships. People are drawn to different things and I respect the individuality. Off work they were all a hoot. There was really nothing that wasn't fun about the whole experience. I am still fairly close to them all except one guy who just dropped off the grid because that is who he is, and that too, is okay.
We had all kinds of events. The monthly Psychic Fair, author readings/signings and weekend workshops. Here's where it gets interesting. It is the seeking for meaning, not OF life, but IN life. Millions do it every day, every year, every weekend. See? There's the catch. Weekends. It's the hypocrite with which I take issue. Arsehole all week, first at First Baptist on the weekend, and they wonder in Wanderlust why they can't find happiness. There have been many incarnations of "This Woman," but this one applies to this story alone. She was a banker's wife, of the Country Club, season tickets to the Symphony set, black tie events all the way. Yet on the weekends, here she'd come, dripping in diamonds, both Herkimer and DeBeers, a medicine bag around her neck full of crystals, a floppy hat with an illegal as hell eagle feather in it, a Peruvian shawl, a bag of books, a gold AMEX to buy more, and these blue batik pants. All the other items could change, but never the pants, thus they came to be known as the Spiritual Pants, and an extended metaphor throughout my life for these people. This woman spent thousands of dollars to learn to read tarot, to read the Akashic records, to move energy with crystals, to do Reiki, to channel, to speak to Angels both higher and minor, she ran the gamut. Yet, was and, probably IS still seeking. Please don't get me wrong. Go… look… find… start…stop… do whatever…the only fault I find in all of this is in not giving one's self the time to absorb and integrate information, and for those who find ONE thing and think that it is the ONLY thing, and that THEIR GUIDES are the GUIDES for EVERYONE. That said let's get into some deeper intricacies of guides.
I have personally known folks who channel. I have met several who channel to larger audiences, and I am familiar with those that channel on a huge scale. As stated above, some are crap as they let external issues interfere in the information. Some you can tell there is a divine hand in it as a universal truth because it is true today, tomorrow, for me, for you, that guy over there; it just matters. That is clear presentation. I use this analogy: channelers, as with people who facilitate healing sessions, are supposed to be sterile tubing. A straight shot from source to the receiver. Noting from the conduit should interfere or get stuck in the tube, noting from the receiver should go to the conduit back to source, that is between them. It is a very simple clear process. Some are naturals, but it can be taught. Just like remote viewing. It CAN be taught, but the naturals are just better; not set above, just more fluid, making something difficult look easy. Part two. Constant, clear contact with guides/source/devas/whomever is not meant for the current human neural system. It is very draining. It is exhausting. Those that do it for a living will tell you the same information. They have to go to retreat to recharge after big sessions. Those who say that they are in constant, conscious contact with their guides are full of it. Yes, they, the guiding entities, are accessible at all times, but to be "on the red phone" all the time… utter BS. My personal experience is that sometimes, things will "fall out" I quickly acknowledge that it was not mine. That it was neither something I knew before, nor did I know where it came from. I don't say, "Oh those were My Guides speaking to you. They need you to know this." Not ever going to happen. I simply say, you may want to pay attention to that, because I don't know what it was supposed to mean. I am not a healer. I grind my teeth at those who say they are. I am and will always profess to merely be good company on the ride be it healing or a spiritual journey. I am loud and soft-spoken. I am big and little. I am cocky and yet have little ego. I am the Ass and I don't mind carrying you as long as you're not the average tourist. Otherwise, you're going to get the 10 year old Berlitz guide, and Donde esta la biblioteca?