Jupiter is, evidently, retrograding and there is much to learn during this period.  Here are some hints and tips:

Be true to yourself
So what’s the best way to handle Jupiter in retrograde? Look to see if your beliefs reflect your values. Are they truly a part of who you are, or are you blindly following the beliefs of someone else? Do you pay as much attention to your spiritual life as you do your job or family? If not, you may need to make time for contemplation, meditation or religious services, whatever form of spirituality nourishes your soul. Attuning yourself to nature, taking a class on Eastern religions or having your astrology chart read are also ways to energize your spiritual life.

The phony-buster
Jupiter is also about integrity. During the next few months, you may find yourself face-to-face with any pretenses you’ve build up. For instance, if you need the accoutrements of success (fine clothing, high-end car, six-figure income) in order to feel validated, be prepared for a lesson in what’s truly important to you. However this lesson shows itself, just know it’s there to realign your integrity with your soul’s purpose.

Complete what you’ve started
Jupiter also rules education and adventure, while retrogrades prompt you to backtrack over old territory so you can complete your goal. Is there a distant land you’ve longed to visit? Are you needing to finish your bachelor’s degree? Now may be the time to take that trip to Egypt to see the pyramids, or enroll in a college course (or two) to complete your education.

But what if you’re starting college in the fall? With Jupiter retrograde through October 12, 2009 you might need to change your major eventually or readjust your schedule in some fashion. Most important, keep searching your heart to see if what you’re studying supports your destiny.

It’s a sign!
As the planet of the future, retrograde Jupiter will prompt you to examine your goals and how you’ll get there. Heeding your intuition can keep your goals on track – or help you find a new path altogether. Be open to receiving messages from unexpected (unseen?) sources that can guide your direction – signs from the universe, if you will. A sign may come from meeting a long-lost friend who works in a field you’ve been considering, which propels you toward a new job. Or perhaps you’ll suddenly hear a song on the radio that offers a clue about what you need to do.

During this time, be introspective and let the Universe guide you. Then you’ll have a clearer perspective about your life, both spiritually and materially, after Jupiter turns direct.

So, today, very early this morning, I had a lovely conversation with a man who needed my help copying and faxing.  He told me that he was retired but he used to work for the Navy.  During the Vietnam War, he spent much of his time on aircraft carriers but not for what you might think.  They would go out into the open ocean during hurricanes and he was the person who set and then released weather balloons into the hurricane for scientific studies.

What a fascinating job.  However, it was a very dangerous one considering this man broke his back five times, crushed his shoulers twice, and had a very hard time breathing.  All of this came from being thrashed about on the deck of the aircraft carrier.

He was a nice enough old guy… Then a woman came in and started yelling at me because I wasn’t helping her fast enough.  I went over, helped her, and then went back to helping the older gentleman.  She was very snotty and almost downright mean to me.  This old guy told her to “shut yer trap” as she rushed out the door.  I laughed.  I know I shouldn’t have but she was gone and it was funny as hell.  And then… old guy reached over and hugged me and kinda leaned in and I…

Kissed him on the cheek.  That’s right; I kissed a perfect stranger, with whom I’d bonded for all of ten minutes, square on his little old cheek.

Despite the fact that this was totally, and I mean completely and totally outside of my usual demeanor, I did it anyway.

I blame it on the Jupiter Retrograde.

That’s not such a bad thing as long as I don’t make it a habit.  (LOL)

Try it. Retrograde is happening through October.  There’s your excuse…

If, like me, you actually need one.

I started to write something about how windy it’s been here in Albuquerque. I Googled “Winds of March” and ended up on a spiritual path with the band Journey. While I liked that song (though don’t remember hearing it… ever… and thought I knew just about every Journey song) my favorite song is still “Lights”. I totally lost myself in listening to every version on YouTube. That song reminds me of some very special moments in San Francisco and the early days of my pioneering soul.

The first memory to come to mind is on the steps by the bay just down from Ghirardelli Square. I was about 17 and some friends and I went into “The City” for the day. We had rented some roller-skates and skated up and down the steep streets of San Franscisco. I could barely drive (stick-shift!) in SF and remember grabbing street signs at the bottom of the hills to keep from skating into traffic. Wild. We landed at Ghirardelli, had lunch, and went down to the steps where there were street vendors, musicians, magicians, and lots of people shopping, dancing, and watching.

I bought a silver and tiger-eye ring and was wearing my love beads. We drank Heinekens (how we got them… I don’t remember) that I had been carrying in my backpack; each bottle exploded when opened from all of the swirling around street signs and slamming into buildings to slow or stop our skating momentum. We danced, on skates, to the Reggae music. We pretended to be drunk but, really, only just smelled of beer because we were wearing more on our chins and shirts than actually made it into our bellies.

We stayed in the city all day and half the night; skating and riding buses all over the city.  We went to a 2AM showing of Rocky Horror Picture Show at The Strand. It was in the red-light district and, boy-oh-boy, what an education that was! I’d never seen hookers or transgendered people or totally-out gay people or so many Transylvanians ever before. I felt kinda butch and shared a joint with the girl sitting next to me in the theater. She gave me a shotgun and kissed me! (I kissed a girl and I liked it… That song is about 30+ years too late for me.) It was all so strange and exhilarating and scary and exciting. I have never liked pot but that night I smoked because of the cute girl sitting next to me (and next to her was her boyfriend and next to me was my boyfriend…HA!) I remember feeling wildly dizzy from everything.

We got home around 6AM and promptly flopped. Ah… Youth! Spend it while you’ve got it.

Anyway… Great memory!

It’s been really windy for the past several days. So much so that you can’t see the mountains from the mesa or the mesa from the foothills or the Walgreens from the mall. Wind makes me feel wildly dizzy. Might be that inner-ear thing or maybe it’s a flashback… who knows?

Juniper and many other irritating irritants have been flying up my nose at an alarming rate. Actually, what’s alarming is the amount of mini-heart-attacks (aka sneezes) I’ve been experiencing. They come in 9’s and, if I’m driving, I’ve closed my eyes at least twice as many times. Talk about alarming at 75 mph! Then there’s the piddle-factor that coincides with each mini-orgasmic-heart-attack. While I can usually be successful at making it home just in time because I should have gone before I left work but had been so busy I couldn’t even take a pee-break; multiple orgasmic sneezing makes it very, very difficult. TMI? Eh…

I was driving home from my mom’s house and the dust/dirt/sand was swirling along the road like snowfall on a blustery winter’s day. Impromptu sand dunes created amazing Sahara-like shapes along gutters, washes, and Petroglyphs. Everything was covered in a brown-gray hue. It was beautifully ugly… And oh-so-damaging to my truck’s exterior… Not to mention what it did to my hair.

That same night, I helped D-man with his shower and, while washing his hair, I could feel chunks of boulders trapped beneath his tight curls. The strong stream of water couldn’t coerce the playground sandbox from his afro; I had to comb and rake it out with my fingernails.

Last weekend I moved all the furniture and rearranged the living room. This weekend I’ll be dusting everything… again. By tomorrow, it will all look the same: dusty. I’ll also be giving poor little Mojo a bath. I’ve been slowly cutting away his matted fur and will have to cut his hair short in order to get the backyard out of his afro. I’m thinking of doing the same thing to D-man. I use the same clippers for both. Sounds gross, I know; I’m not sure which is worse, D-man or Mojo. In any case, I’m thinking the clippers will get the raw end of the deal.

Two days until 50.

I want my cake now before the grit sets in…

From The Daily Humorscope for January 1, 2009:

Pisces

(February 19 – March 20)

You will become fascinated by the unlikely use of the same word to mean very different things. For example, what is the link between “seasons” as changes in the weather and “seasons” as in what you do to food? Or for that matter, why are Fall and Spring named for action verbs, and not Summer and Winter? Shouldn’t those be called something like Wiggle and Shiver?

Yesterday, my mom asked me if I knew another word for “thesaurus”. I actually thought about it, struggled to say it (tough “th” word) and said, “Synonym?” (Actually, I think I said, “Thinnomim?”) She laughed and laughed at her little joke and I laughed with her albeit still struggling to say, “th-th-thetharousth”.

It’s all made me think… Hmmm… What word(s) would I use to describe last year? I can’t think of just one. That and my horoscope makes me think about how I’ve seen the last year and how I may choose to see the one I’m about to enter. Is it positive or negative? Is it half full or half empty? Is it good or is it bad? Is it yin or is it yang?

Only my hairdresser (whom I haven’t seen for over 8 months) knows for sure.

I know that, for a long time, I’ve viewed this past year as being negative, bad, half empty, and yearning (for lack of a better use of a “y” word) for something different or, at the very least, a different outcome.

Let’s look back and then finally just trash this crap and move on, shall we?

• S and I had a major falling-out that caused both of us to reevaluate our lives and our intentions. It was really, really hard but we made it through stronger for it. (+)
• Oldest acted out (horribly) so, S reestablished a relationship with his dad and, after much anguish, sent him there for the summer. Since, dear old dad decided he couldn’t handle him, his new wife decided she wouldn’t deal with it and fabricated some bullshit story about him and they had him committed to a psych hospital. (He has never, ever done anything as she claims and, according to the psych people we spoke with, there was absolutely no evidence of it. There was, however, evidence that their “family” didn’t want him in their home.)They were going to (promised, in fact) send him home but instead, changed their phone number, stopped contacting us and, unfortunately, stopped contacting the other boys (who are heartbroken… yet again), and sent oldest (supposedly; we don’t really know) to a residential care facility. As current, non-custodial parent, S’ options are expensive legal wranglings and a daily source of pain and worry for everyone. There’s a lot more to this but that’s all I’m gonna say about that. This continues to be a negative; times ten, times ten. (———-)
• The job I had never became the job it was supposed to be and quickly began to go right down the shitter. I had a new (and totally inexperienced and inappropriate) DM who was on my ass constantly. I, like many other experienced (and appropriately paid) managers were being performanced out for the craziest crap. I got written up for reading StarbucksGossip.com and questioning the information I read. Crazy. The positive to this was that I saw the writing on the wall, found another career choice, acted quickly, and got out in the nick of time. (–/+++)
• I started a new job. While I really like it, it has been quite taxing to be in that high learning curve, once again, and to always be “on” regardless of whatever drama (oldest) was going on in our home. Hard but good. (+)
• This year I’ve had every illness the boys have so generously brought home. Twice. At least. (-) I live to tell… (+)
• (TMI ALERT!) I stopped having periods in April. I started having wayyyyy intense hot flashes in March that lasted through November. Hot flashes that would cause me to completely soak my shirt and reactivated my *doo* so many times that I had perpetually *crunchy* hair. Mood swings that would cause me to hear “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot” every time I had to atone for my bursts of emotion. Sleeping patterns that were so erratic that I slept (or didn’t) on the couch for most of the year. I was running on about 2-3 hours of sleep a night and would crash for entire days, as a result. I’d wake up and my pillow and the sheets would be soaked with sweat and my head felt like it was going to pop right off. So, I’d grab a blanket retire to the couch hoping that the TV would lull me back to sleep. I was starting my days at one in the morning. I got to the point where I’d take a little blue pill (Advil PM; not Viagra! Much to S’ chagrin…) in the hopes of falling and staying asleep. That eased up sometime in November and, while I’m having erratic menstrual periods, I’m just glad to feel a little more rested and sorta-sane. I turn 50 in three months. This shit had better be over by then! (+/—–/+)
• I sold my house in Tucson and actually made money on it before the housing bubble burst. Necessity is a mutha… But it all worked out quite nicely. (+)
• The stock market took a lil’ dip. I, at one time, thought myself foolish for taking my stock options out, cashing them in, and using the money to invest in my home and a positive change to our lives (the move to ABQ) while allowing myself the time to deal with *stuff* in my life. Turns out those stock options are now worth one-fifth what they were when I cashed them out. Timing is everything and I owe my good intuition and guardian angels a butt-load of gratitude. (+)
• When all that crap was going on with oldest, I was so frazzled that I lost my cell phone. Losing my cell phone is like losing a lifeline. I immediately went to the provider and found out that my contract was just about to expire. As a result, I was able to get a Blackberry for only 50 bucks, changed my plan, and saved money on the whole thing. I am now addicted to my phone. Hmmm… (-…+…? +/-)
• A snarky, bitchy, bitter, old blogger accused me of hijacking her blog in a comment. (Okay, it was approximately 550 words, and ya’ll know how verbose I can be but… Jesus, you know?! It was not my intention to “hijack” her blog and, certainly, there have been others with long-ass comments so I thought, ‘Why me?’ I guess it was just my turn. I can’t think of any other explanation as to why someone would be so hateful and hurtful.) I was taken by surprise by her vitriol attack and it hurt my feelings and made me mad. Now, this was during a very, very difficult time in our lives and I was probably way more sensitive about it than I should have been. I, pretty much, stopped blogging/sharing. Well, F-You, Patricia “Cappy” Cringe… I’m back. Party on, bitch. (–/FU*delete*++++)
• I’ve reconnected with old friends in a very positive way. It’s been a tough year for everyone (lots o’ —’s) but we all still love and support each other. (++ <3 ++)

Okay, wait a minute… Yeah, sure; there’s lot’s o’ negatives in there but, wait! Would ya look at all of those positives!!??!!

It’s been hard; it’s been good. It’s been emotional and rough and sad and scary; it’s been loving and soft/cuddly and strong. It’s been hot and wet in a not good hot and wet kinda way. It’s been full; full of life and stuff.

2008… I guess you weren’t the bitch I thought you were. You just had some totally bitchy and scary moments. Kinda like me… Huh.

Here’s to a better New Year… To better and more frequent good-hair days… To love and happiness and joy… To Friendship… To Family… To warmth and comfort food… To finally losing that GD 35 pounds hanging on my gut and butt… To reuniting… To good fortune… To a new presidential era… To Hope…

Y prospero Ano y Felizidad!

What I see:

A turquoise necklace, two bottles of pink nail polish(each a different shade and manufacturer), a bottle of Bufferin aspirin, a green calculator, a cylindrical, meshed-metal pen holder holding no less than fifteen “special“ pens/pencils, three rulers, a pair of wire cutters, a metal ball with chimes inside, Pablo Neruda’s “The Captain Verses”, Hampton Sides’ “Blood and Thunder, Jeffrey Kacirk’s “The Word Museum”, two blank journals, a plaque from APS thanking me for volunteering, 10 Starbucks Vivanno coupons, a purple pen, two silver rings, one silver and tiger eye ring, a pair of turquoise earrings, four watches, a photo of G-Man, a dream catcher, a pelican feather in an odd shaped, glass vessel, an owl feather on a leather string hanging from the top shelf and held in place by a crystal owl figurine, an incense burner, a Keva Juice gift certificate, my Certified Food Safety Manager card, a silver chain with St. Anthony AND St. Christopher medals, two white dots from the hole-punch, a Guns n’ Roses CD and the soundtrack for Coyote Ugly, a bill from Comcast, a metal “Hillary” button, a metal Certified Barista button, three small screwdrivers, a grease pencil, a pad of handmade paper, a black Bic lighter, a pack of cigarettes, a Pepsi, an ashtray, a white, plastic lid that formerly went to a container for bread and it looks just like a piece of bread, one leg stabilizer-thingy for a box fan, a bottle of patchouli, three very small sand dollars, four small Moleskin books, a Moleskin address book, a checkbook, the mouse and mouse pad for my desktop, 80+ blank CD’s, 16 collectible Starbucks gift cards, three lip glosses, cable router, wireless router, two small speakers and a sub-woofer, a dolphin figurine-thingy filled with patchouli, a cedar box that has Lucille Ball adorning its cover, a pair of prescription, “Transitions” sunglasses in a hard case, a three drawer, two shelf, mesh-metal letter/stuff holder (upon which many of these other items reside), a sticker of an orange, sparkly goldfish.

What I hear:

A small autistic child, sniffling, sneezing, talking (incessantly) to himself and to the dogs, the swamp cooler fan, a door slamming, the news on the boob-tube talking about Obama, Biden, and McCain, typing (my own), a snoring dog, small, autistic child singing to himself (sounds like Miley Cyrus).

What I smell:

Something smells *wet* but I’m not sure if it’s the swamp cooler or rain outside.

What I feel:

Tired, sore, soft puppy fur on my left foot, stiff neck, tingling in my right hand, warmth on my wrists as they rest upon the laptop, slightly annoyed, hungry for something savory, to be followed by something sweet, even more annoyed as I resist, not quite happy, not quite sad, not quite sure, soft puppy fur on both of my feet as Mojo has just shifted, a paw on my leg from the snoring dog, ready to burst (blame the Pepsi), a little hot and sweaty ’cause the swamp cooler doesn’t seem to be cooling anymore(must be fixin‘ to rain), sorry for my neighbor who is, for pity’s sake, on a bender this weekend, annoyed at drunk neighbor, wanting to get up and close the front door…

What I am sure of:

Trash. Taxes. Death.

Everything else is, quite simply, a Moveable Feast.

I set my alarm for 3:50AM and actually went to sleep in my bed (versus the couch) last night. The alarm went off in what seemed like just moments later. In fact, it was just 3 hours later and it wasn’t my alarm going off; it was the phone. I use the alarm on my phone and the ring tone is the same for both the phone and the alarm. It was 2:03 in the morning and who in the hell was calling me? It was my neighbor, Mr. DoesnottakecareofhisdogsandIcalledthecityonhimandheisnotspeakingtomeanymore.

The conversation went like this:

Me: “Hello?”

Neighbor: “Who is this?”

Me: “What? What the hell? Who is this and why are you calling me at 2 in the morning?”

Neighbor: “I’m sorry; I don’t know who this is because I’m not sure who I dialed.”

Me: “Neighbor? Is that you?”

Neighbor: “Yeah. Who’s this?”

Me: “This is Natalie, your neighbor; are you okay? Is there something wrong? Do you need help? What’s going on?”

Neighbor: “No, I’m fine; I just wasn’t sure who I was calling.”

Me: “What the hell, Neighbor? It’s 2 in the freakin’ (not really what I said) morning and I have to be at work in a couple of hours. What in the hell is wrong with you?”

Neighbor: “I don’t know. I’m sorry. I was trying to reach someone else.”

Me: “Well, I’m going back to sleep. Goodbye!”

You know, people going through a break-up are so tedious, boring, self-centered, and just plain dumb ‘n full-o-drama. My neighbor and his soon-to-be ex-wife have been spending a lot of time together and rumor has it that they are getting back together. So, what in the hell is he doing calling “someone” at 2 in the morning? I don’t want to know and I sure as hell don’t want to hear his voice again. Lord have mercy!

Two hours later, I was awakened by the alarm and a wind-whisked, rainstorm of epic proportions. It was raining so hard that the cat began meowing in alarm. I was almost lulled back to sleep by the sound of the rain, the warmth of our comforter, and the purring of an anxious cat now very glad to know someone was stirring and about to get up and keep him company.

As I drove to work, I noticed that all of the last remnants of leaves were gone from the trees and collected in puddles, drains, ditches, and gutters along the road. There were piles and piles of flattened and soggy tumbleweeds lining the streets as I maneuvered through the neighborhood.

It had rained so hard and so fast that every leaf, piece of trash, and loose desert foliage coagulated along the roadways. It made for a fascinating collage of winter weather scenery. The mish-mash of previous fall colors were now taking the place of white lane dividers; lit-up from the fog lights on my truck and channeling my early morning thoughts from an extreme need for coffee to a lasting impression of wintery Southwestern decoupage.

Later in the morning, I drove to the bank to make our daily deposit. I noticed that the leaves, twigs, trash, and tumbleweeds had been pummeled by traffic into a thick mash of compost the color of baby poop. I guess this description was more apt for that time of day and the fact that I’d already had two triple espressos. Caffeine can sometimes make the world seem too real. I’d rather be a dreamer running on no sleep than pushed into the throes of poopy comparisons.

By mid-afternoon, I was now a half-a-quart low on my caffeine intake and was, once again, back to surreal landscapes. The mountains were darkened by heavy-sooted clouds from a smoldering fire in the Manzanos. The mesa was a sun-brightened wheat color reflecting madly against the windshield. You could clearly see the snaking basalt adjacent to the volcanoes of Petroglyph National Monument. It was a dividing moment.

And I felt much divided because I wanted to just keep driving. I wanted to drive to Angel Fire to make snow angels. I wanted to skip stones in the Rio Grande River .  Head for Taos and stop for tacos in Truchas. I wanted to grab another triple, extra-dry cappuccino and head for the hills before anyone noticed I was actually gone.

Alas, I had a huge order of change that was so heavy I feared for the straps on my bag while leaning into my crooked gait and feeling the burn from indentations on my shoulder. Pennies, nickels, dimes, and quarters weighed heavily on my hindsight.

The days’ change was certainly needed but not nearly as much as I needed another espresso, some good music, a long drive, and decoupaged day dreams.

My life: one big, sleep deprived, espresso impaired, hallucinogenic, double-entendre.

There’s gotta be a pill for that.

I’ve been waiting for S to get her camera back from the shop.  She’d been promising to take photos of Creepy Barbie and the piggies.  I’ve decided to throw in the wedding dress photo just for kicks and giggles.

My life is just hilarious.  In fact, it’s so funny… I forgot to laugh.  These photos are there for the remindin’… to really yuck-it-up when the moment hits you.

Enjoy and make fun of ‘em all you like:

Hideous, isn’t she? (Quick addendum ’cause S saw adena’s comment and made me: she’s made of porcelain.  There.  Ya happy now?)

When looking at this next photo, keep several things in mind: 1.) It was in the wee hours of the morning and I have bed-head and absolutely no undergarments on save a pair of tube-socks; 2.) I initially agreed to do this because the dress didn’t fit S and it did fit me.  It was never intended to be shared.  Don’t ya’ll feel so special (or totally weirded-out) now?; 3.) When S photographs me, I either have my mouth open or I am piercing a pre-laugh-smile.  This would be an example of just before the laugh; 4.) I am, in fact, a glowing angel for even putting this thing on and allowing my photo to be taken.  I’m still reaping rewards because of it.

Piggies:

Blue frosting lip gloss:

The real me.  I clean up pretty well but I’m still a poseur when pressed.

Normal?  What’s that?

I woke up and immediately asked for coffee. Then I was told that I was a blanket-hog all night. Yes, there is a chill in the air… it was only 53 degrees when I woke up this morning. This caused the boys to sleep longer than usual. Each of them was wrapped tight in their little blanket-burritos and didn’t want to greet the morning air. They all complained of being “cold.”

How far we’ve come from our definition of cold and haughty, nanner-nanner‘s back at our Midwestern friends. If we’d still been in Chicago, we would have described the morning as “balmy” or “lovely” in comparison. However, I checked my favorite weather website and saw that it was 67 degrees in Chicago. What’s up with THAT?

This weather definitely energizes the dogs. They are up and at ‘em in the morning and itchin’ to get out of the house. Maybe that’s because the neighbor’s dogs have been up and at ‘em since 4 in the morning, braying and baying at anything that moves. This includes the wind, a leaf on a tree, and each other’s wagging tails. That cute little puppy that my neighbor got a couple of months ago is now a huge, lanky, howling-hound-dog. I know exactly what time they get up, get home, go to bed, and leave for the day. There’s no order to that; I know. That’s because I’m annoyed no matter what time it is.

I’m calling the city today. You know, I hate to be the asshole neighbor and call about the stench of too many dogs and someone not bothering to clean their yard, take out their garbage, feeding and watering (They are back to using the huge, half barrel, mosquito incubator for water and it‘s green and gross and, oh, those poor dogs!) their dogs… but I’ve had enough. There are also the people across the street that park their boat on the street and then park in front of my house. I can barely get out of my own driveway.

Yeah, like I’m the asshole neighbor… But I’m sick of it and will now stand up for my legal rights ’cause talking to them in a civil manner hasn’t done a damned thing. *sigh*

Otherwise, S and I are planning our escape. We have most of the day to ourselves and, if we can decide where to go, we are GOING! We haven’t had any time to ourselves because of our schedules and the kids and the dogs and our work and the house and the cars and the non-existent-grass-in-both-the-front-and-back-yards. (‘Cause grass is such a concern… don’t ya know!)

I’m thinking we should head north (and never look back) and see if the Aspens are turning yet. It’s been cool enough and, well, it is breathtaking in New Mexico this time of year. I’d be happy with a carne adovada burrito, some papitas y frijoles, a hot, sticky, honey-filled sopapilla, and a nice cuppa coffee. So, S is going to have to drive… hahahaha! But that defeats the purpose of time alone together because then she can’t take photos out the window while I scream along the back roads at 75 MPH. Hands must always be in the 10-2 position when she’s shooting out the window.

Maybe we should just pack up some PB&J sammiches and hit the road, sans camera, sans kids, sans dogs, sans sanity.

Spontaneity is the burrito of life. Unless it’s a blanket-burrito and then we call that a “JammyDay.”

Whatever works.

Do ya ever feel like the gods are tryin’ to tell you something? You know how that is: no matter what you do to try to push the river, the river pushes back and, there you are tryin’ and tryin’ only to be treading in place so you might as well just go with the flow.

That happened to me yesterday. No matter what I did or what happened that seemed to allow for what I wanted; it just wasn’t going to happen.

I’ll be patiently waiting and, well, praying…

Oh, well… there’s always Queen Ida and the Bon Temp Zydeco Band… in the middle of monsoon, downtown, same damned time, same damned place…