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What Came Before

2005.05 2005.06 2005.07 2005.08 2005.09 2005.10 2005.11 2005.12 2006.01 2006.02 2006.03 2006.04 2006.05 2006.06 2006.07 2006.08 2006.09 2006.10 2006.11 2006.12 2007.01 2007.02 2007.03 2007.04 2007.05 2007.06 2007.07 2007.08 2007.09 2007.10 2007.11 2007.12 2008.01 2008.02 2008.03 2008.04 2008.05 2008.07 2008.09 2008.10 2009.01 2010.01 2010.03 2010.05


From the ghost land of the easy life.

31 May 2005

Mystica. :

I am a gypsy soul. Sometimes because I want to get up and go and sometimes out of necessity. I like change and traveling. I haven’t done much of the latter but the former is my total A Number One buddy. Don’t know why.

I know I’m psychic. Go ahead and laugh. I have dreams about my future – sometimes years in advance. I always remember them. I read tarot cards with frightening accuracy I’m told. I have practiced palmistry, hand writing analysis, I Ching divination, reading playing cards and writing fortunes for my friends. I know when the phone’s going to ring, when something bad is coming down the pike and it irks me when someone says “What? You didn’t see this coming?” – I’d be rich by now if I had that kind of access to the universe. I don’t know if it’s a gift or a curse, I do know people will pay you to tell them things they already know. They also act like you are somehow a giant psycho freak when you talk about these things. I don’t actively do readings for people anymore. Moved around too much to keep that going, but I still do my own. I don’t think your cards can be read over the phone/internet, so I’d never pay a dime for any of those services. I have my own astrology software so I can do chart readings and used to be gung ho about learning all the stellar trines and transits.

Things have passed me by. I want to learn Linux but I’m finding it hard to convince myself I can do it alone. Practice makes better users and I even had a copy installed on my computer last year but I couldn’t figure it out and no one I knew used it. Like the astrology dream, no one I knew was interested and it fell by the wayside as I pursued living and making the rent. It’s funny how you can be meaning to do something, put it down and forget it even exists. That happens with so many things. I’m a little hopeless at remembering things for very long. Like the months I spent learning guitar. I tried everyday to learn 2 chords. No big deal I can do that. I’d play until I couldn’t physically hold the guitar anymore, I got callouses. I broke strings. I never did remember the next day what chords I spent hours practicing the day before. Couldn’t for the life of me remember where to put my fingers to make that sound again. I went to bed praying, “Just let me wake up and play G.” It never happened. All in all I tried learning A, D and G for about 4 months. People came by to cheer me on and ended up learning the chords instead of me. Eventually I sold the guitar; I knew I was pursuing futility.

I went to school for a very long time. I like learning and excel at standardized tests. If it doesn’t have complex math questions or those damnable sequences of subtly different shaded shapes where they show you 4 more and ask which one you think is next (they all look the frigging same to me) – I’ll ace it. If I could remember half of what I forgot, Ken Jennings would be quickly off the Jeopardy top winner’s list. I know he’s second now but I can’t recall the new winner’s name. It’s a curse I swear. The worst part is knowing the information is in there somewhere, I just can’t access it. I know it’s there because I’ve pulled it out and used it before. It always happens when my brain hits panic mode and starts screaming, “Don’t open your mouth you’ll look like an idiot!” and then something oh so intelligent and intriguing comes out. Either I’ve got an uplink to the collective consciousness or I knew that tid bit all the long.

It’s pretty scary not knowing what your brain’s coughing up until it falls out of your mouth for all to hear. But I do turn such pretty shades of red. Mental fur-ball anyone??

I don’t know anyone who wants to look bad in public, drunk or otherwise. I don’t know many things, yet. Someday I’ll have more knowledge in this oversized head of mine. I’m sure of it, and who knows what I’ll have to forget to remember all of it J Oh and I do have a big head. One of my earliest ‘you’re different’ moments in school was the time in grade 3 when we all had to trace outlines of our head and cut them out and frame them for whatever reason. I have a full head of hair I hate it, hairdressers adore it – you try brushing it. I had way more hair then though, mom was going through the total I want girly girls phase and I wasn’t allowed to cut it. She didn’t like brushing it and neither did I.

Anyways it was apparent from the first time that overhead projector came on that my head was bigger than the rest. If I were a little thing I’d look like Vanna White. You know she’s just a bad haircut away from being a bobble head and, well, so am I. I have narrow shoulders, I can’t even carry a purse they’re so rounded, and a wee slip of a neck – therefore I am a human bobble head. I have a hard time buying hats of any kind because they don’t fit, whether my head is shaved bald or not. I don’t have a beautiful baldhead either. I look like a bigheaded freak with no hair. Still for some years I did the whole fringe bangs and ¼ inch stubble thing. I got called dyke a lot and asked what the statement was. I just didn’t want to bother doing my hair is all. I’d had enough of it. That phase really let me know about the people I knew. My mother never asked but boy was she relieve when I got married. PS. I’m not gay. There’s nothing wrong with it, I just really like da mens.

So me and my big head went through life with relatively little event. I suffered blunt force-esque trauma only once. I ran full tilt into a brick wall in kindergarten. Got a concussion and a time out for it too. They made my mom come to the school and check me out. She was pissed and after seeing I wasn’t dead or anything left me there to suffer my own stupidity for the rest of the day. I don’t consider being punched in the face/head, or hitting my head on things, or being hit in the head by things that flew at me outta no where part of the list of reasons I have a hard head. I think that maybe why it’s so big, it’s armour plated. Would explain why a guy equal to me in everyway couldn’t knock me down with repeated headshots and barely left a bruise. Of course I’m serious –said guy was my brother in law and I pressed charges all the way. The low bruising didn’t help a lot but he got a year’s probation and I got a peace bond. Could be I’m just really good at taking a punch.

My head, myself. I have little to no luck with hair accessories. Barrettes fall out of my hair. Ponytail clips tend to snap after a few days/weeks use. I never could stand banana clips, combs fail, bobby pins are annoying, and those ready made head bands that look like pieces of t-shirt sewn together just slide up the back of my head and pull off the front 'til they meet like a huge disappointment in a tangle of hair behind my big head. I have long hair right now (my idea of long, it’s mostly past my shoulders) and my arms hurt trying to braid my hair. I don’t do it well at all. I can’t totally blame that on my big head, my manually dexterity relies heavily upon looking at what I’m actually doing and since I don’t have eyes in the back of my big head I’m lost. If I want braids I have to go to a salon and pay for them. Where in the hairdresser will gush or sigh about my big old head of hair.

My big hair and my big head don’t make me believe I have an ability to see the future. It’s not like I can see your future the same way I see mine. Given a little time and some observation I can figure out the kind of person you are and what you’re apt to do under certain circumstances. That’s all being a reader is, being observant and able to pick up visual clues from the person to let you know if what you’re saying rings true. I know myself which is why I’ve been oh so disappointed when I turn to someone else for a reading. It’s never accurate. They never get me right and usually they contradict themselves giving me my future. It must be because I’m so good at retreating into my big head that the reader can’t judge whether or not they are on the right track. Or maybe it’s because I’m MUD.

I’m a Capricorn, born o the cusp of Aquarius. I display traits of both signs, much to my detriment. Being that Capricorn is a workaholic homebody and Aquarius is a nonconformist social butterfly. I often get hog tied by my warring natural tendencies. I’m 2 girls in one, and all my personalities have something to offer and they’re well acquainted. It’s taken years to mix the 2 sides and so I’m either working like there’s no tomorrow or rebelling from it by doing bupkiss in a big way. It’s why I call myself a slacker. While half of me really wants to try it takes so much out of me to convince that half of me can’t be bother that ultimately nothing gets done. In other words as much as I’m all JUST DO IT ALREADY I’m also incredibly indecisive and unable to decide which IT to do. It may have nothing at all to do with my sun signs; it could be my life number has taken a slide to the dark side, whatever it is I’m trying to fix it I swear.

I’m not excessively spiritual. I don’t belong to or attend any formally recognized religious community services. I have my own beliefs and they do well to get me through the daily grind. My body is a temple with it’s own religious iconography – that’s right I have tattoos. I like tats and dying my hair, I wear 8 earrings but only my ears are pierced. I don’t want anything more. I remember asking my dad if I could get my ears pierced and he pulled out the big scare guns telling me how it’d be done with a red hot giant needle and if God had wanted holes in my ears he’d have put them there. I told my dad that it was the 80’s and now they used a gun to pierce ears. I didn’t tackle God; my da wasn’t even religious so despite my wondering what was up with that - it wasn’t a point I wanted to argue. I went on the school trip and my da didn’t talk to me for over a month afterward. I was his wanton daughter then. He never lived to see me paint my rented university room china red. Poor dad woulda beat me senseless for that J Always the rebel – even when there’s nothing to rebel against. Just old echoes of voices in my head.

Onto another tangent. I love being different. I’m getting quite a kick out of being single again. Not really newly minted but feeling fresh enough to go the distance. I’m stuck in a small town though, so the dating pool is so limited. I’m trying to meet folks online – but that bankruptcy thing really limits my online dating site membership. Everything costs these days. Just a few years ago a girl could get online and chat away for free. Good times. For a while there I was even a playa. Well it didn’t last long and it didn’t make me happy. Not permanently anyways, and it really freaked my then friends out. It’s so fun to shatter people’s illusions of you, in a good way of course. I’m not going to go axe murder someone just so people will stop thinking I’m nice, but I’ll tear a strip off anyone who crosses me. They never see it coming. Now don’t go thinking I’m one of those who just goes along being all sweet and then one day BAM I rip you to shreds. I just don’t take no guff from no one. I stand up for myself. Really, who else will?

I do rely on first impressions. How I feel about you, the identifying words that pop into my head when we first meet will always rule how I feel about you. It really doesn’t have anything to do with what you say, do or how you look. I get this little pop up feeling in my head that tells me if I should or shouldn’t trust you and if I go against it, things always end up badly. My feelings about people I meet have never been wrong, but they have changed over time. I didn’t much care for this girl I met once and years later met her again and felt differently about her. We became good friends. Earlier on mustn’t have been the right time for us to meet. I’ve gone against my ‘gut’ feeling many times and always lived to regret it. It works for me and so I believe in it. Saves time and hurt feelings all the way around I think.

The world says to me that I should be many things, buy many things and be happy. I don’t believe any of that. I am a consumer, but I try to be picky, environmentally friendly and involved in my community. If I ever stopped moving around the latter might get much easier for me. I tend to be soft spoken and seem aloof; I like to know what I’m getting into before I commit to anything. Mostly because I have this velcro soul. I get attached to people so easily. I can find something to hold onto about anybody, even those that are not so nice to others or me. There are people out there with no redeeming qualities, I’ve met them, seen them on tv and feel the chill of their presence in my dreams. I hold out hope that one day they will take a good look at themselves and change their ways. See, I find a way to see something good in everybody, I also see the rest of it too. I’m not blind and I’m not into making excuses for bad behaviour.

See I believe we’re all responsible for ourselves here. You screw up you gotta take the blame, consequences and make amends. Some people never learned that, some can’t say sorry to save their lives and others are so responsible that anything anyone does they feel it’s their fault. Been there, done that, cancelled the world tour. I’m on just this side of being responsible and taking it on the chin when I fuck up. I’ve got the karma thing down. I’ve got some good will in the bank and I know when to pull a punch or when to walk away. I know myself. I need some friends. So if you want to, drop a line. Maybe I’ll tell you your future.

ghost writer Ambrrrr at 1:47 PM

MenTal fUrbAll