Priorities.

Let me clarify, I really don’t believe in astrology.  However, I’ve now found myself using it as a sort of daily Tao. . well weekly garbage, but whatever – it inspires, and really gives me a focal point in which to discuss my world as of late.

My car got broken into Sunday night (I think).  My laptop, my precious new toy, was taken out of my trunk.  In addition to that, they took all my darling burlesque performers’ music, as well as a good chunk of petty cash. 

Even as Jim Carrey’s words, “I’m getting what I deserve I’m reaping what I sow” came racing into my head, I did what I usually do when something horrible happens to me (aside from the fiasco in Alaska).  I sulked for about five minutes, then blast Pantera really loud.  One humorous aspect to this, is that when I turned my car off Saturday afternoon, I had the Yeah Yeah Yeahs blaring extremely loud.  When the robber type people tried (unsuccessfully) to rip my stereo out, they simply dislodged the faceplate so none of the dials work, volume included.  Which means I was trapped listening to the Yeah Yeah Yeah’s at extremely loud volumes for the whole 30 seconds it took me to fight with my dashboard before I punched it and caused it to shut off, thereby showing me the trick to get it to work.

Now, I am so ghettofied I have duct tape holding my back window together, and I have to push REALLY hard to get my stereo to work.

I see the silver lining on this cloud though.  They didn’t take my CD’s.  All my CD’s, in all four cases, are intact.  And my new Quantum Physics book!  I was so grateful I almost didn’t care about the laptop, or the violation.  Almost.

This afternoon however, I realized they also made out with my workout bag.   My fucking yoga pants and sports bra were in there!  A bigger loss of course is the Ipod my mom got me for Xmas, loaded with all my favorite workout songs, but ironically, I’m more irritated that they made off with my work out shoes and the bag I planned to use in school.

Bastards.  Electronics are less important to me than simple pleasures, such as exercising.  This experience has taught me that. 

So, as you can see, my horrorscope for this week is quite telling, and makes me less than enthusiastic about the next week.  To top things off, I dropped a jar of jelly this morning.  Talk about a MESS. 

To add to the whole surrealistic events of this week, some guy who was randomly (?) driving by my house thought I *might* be selling my Blazer, which I am. . .and he offered me the exact amount I need to pay that bitch off and get it out of my driveway.   A little too coincidental, don’t you think?  I have no sign on this car, it’s been parked in my driveway for three years just waiting to be paid off. 

With the full moon rolling hugely into Pisces, that most idiosyncratic of signs, next week, September’s likely to be a very surreal ride. You couldn’t call it especially bad or good. In fact, I’d be surprised if you could categorize it at all. But “normal” is likely to take on a whole new meaning, and expecting anythingwould be a mistake. This is surely a test of some of the newfound flexibility and adaptability you acquired this summer. You’ve already passed some simple hurdles: Making lemonade out of lemons, though, was easy. What’ll you do when life hands you children in need or burning houses or starving cats?

Pluto is history

As of today, leading astronomers say Pluto is no longer defined as a planet.

This is fabulous really, because it shows that scientists are open to adapting to the rules. Even if it means changing something that has been considered fact for a long time. Otherwise, we’d have about 500 other entities suddenly defined as planets.

Imagine though, our kids will not be taught that Pluto is a planet. Odd, isn’t it? You know it will still get honorable mention, simply because of its longevity, but eventually something that we’ve had drilled into our heads as fact will fade out of our science books.

These things fascinate me, because usually scientific changes (or the acceptance of them) are made rather slowly. It’s inspiring to watch history happen right before your eyes.

Holy shit, Wikipedia has already caught up!

Pluto is a dwarf planet and the prototype of a yet to be named family of Trans-Neptunian objects.^[1][2] It was considered the ninth and smallest of the planets of the Solar System, by the International Astronomical Union (IAU) and the general public from 1930 (the year of its discovery) to 2006. After much debate, the IAU decided on August 24, 2006 to reclassify Pluto as a dwarf planet, requiring that a planet must “clear the neighbourhood around its orbit.”

I definitely feel like I’m going into the right field. Sometimes a little cosmic reassurance is nice

Atoms.

I keep reading and hearing about how we can’t observe atoms. Scientists have become so desensitized to those words, that they sometimes fail to explain what they mean. They simply say, “well, since we can’t observe atoms, blah blah blah. . “

What do you mean, we can’t observe atoms? Can’t we just put a high tech camera on them and watch them do their thing?

That’s the beauty of it – no we can’t. Why not? Because the little fuckers change their path when they know their being watched.

Sometimes it’s the simplest part of the equation that holds all the beauty.

Basically, atoms have one, inexplicable way of behaving, but for some reason this way is a big huge atom secret, and they don’t want us to know about it. So when we do turn a camera on them, they behave like totally normal particles. Nothing fishy here, they say. Sneakier yet, the camera can be pointed at them, but they won’t change their path until it is turned on.

At this point, I envision atoms as having tiny little pitchforks and tiny little devil horns, prancing around in a circle, laughing at how confused they have us mere mortals.

Art and Science

I’m consumed with this connection between art and physics and how to combine the two in my studies. If you google, “Loki” you get an equal number of images from both the planetary aspect (Loki is the name of a volcano on Io, one of Jupiter’s moons) as well as the God of Mischief (Norse mythology).

If you google Io, you see images of the moon itself, as well as paintings of the male incarnation of Io.

There is even a painting called, “Juno Discovering Jupiter with Io.”  Doesn’t that painting just mean more if you know that Io is one of Jupiter’s moons?

This connection exists because for so very long, humans attributed our existence to gods and goddesses, and even though science has now uncovered so many things we didn’t know, we seem to still pay tribute to those myths. Terms and names just carry down through the centuries. For example, the Milky Way gets its name from the Greek myth of Hera, whose breast milk was spilled into the sky.

The history of art and the history of mankind. Somewhere there is the perfect career path which blends the two.

Find Robert Langdon. Ha.

Isn’t this lovely?

Let the rain come down.

This is just to say that sometimes it’s imperative to rock the boat, to see how firmly your sails are tied down. Or whatever kind of boat reference you can come up with. What good is a best friend if they’ll spread all your secrets across town? What good is trust if you never test it? Is love true if it’s conditional? How do we know where we stand with people?

We test them. Or at least, we should.

Go ahead, just tell the truth. What’s the worst that can happen? They will LEAVE YOU? If that’s the case, perhaps they weren’t as right for you as you thought. They will tell you what a stupid bitch you are? Well, now you know how they really feel. Sometimes being honest is hard, and it’s a choice you have to make. Either NOT TELL someone something, until you have a whole long list of never tolds, or you make the conscious decision to PUT IT OUT THERE. Even if things are wonderful in your relationship, and you don’t really want to rock the boat. . .really, you’re just lying to yourself then. Or maybe not lying, but certainly not telling.

Maybe they’ll curse you and punish you for your honesty. Then you can count your blessings because you were lucky enough to see their true colors earlier rather than later.

Maybe they will tell you they love you and thank you for your honesty. Then you can really count your blessings because you know they’re golden.

Maybe it’ll be something in between, some kind of fucked up I hate you for telling me this, but I’m kinda glad you were honest, but I still didn’t want to hear it, but I’m still not going anywhere because I love you, but you do SUCK, but at least I know I can trust you to be honest even though you’re ripping my fucking heart out right now kinda thing.

And then you’ll know they’re human, and that they can still be your best friend, because they listened. Even if they cried all the way home, they listened.

And then you never have to hide anything again. From them, from yourself, from anyone.

Today is my little duckling’s birthday.

I have a ten year old, neener neener neener.

I got her a Migo cell phone. It took my sister a year to convince me that this was a good choice, but now I’m glad I made it. Here’s what it looks like:

There are only four numbers that she can call, and we all happen to be on Verizon, so it will cost her nothing per minute. Just the ten dollars a month to the family plan. So now instead of sitting outside for an hour waiting for her to come out of rehearsal, she can just press one and call me.

There’s also an emergency key, plain as day, in case fate suddenly places her in unfamiliar territory, or something worse happens and she needs help.

The best feature though, is the GPS tracking system. Phone in backpack, backpack on kid, kid in child molester van. Kid hopefully saved. It’s a good thing I think.

Plus, she already called me to tell me she made it to my aunt’s safely, where she is staying the night. Peace of mind, I tell ya, it’s worth its weight in gold. As was the look on my daughter’s face when she opened the phone.

When we left dinner, she said, “Give me a better kiss.” Heh, that’s my line

Happy Birthday Lucy.

Paris

And he says don’t write about me in your little erotic world, just go woman

because you can’t help yourself and I am manic

But those memories, in the bar when she was right behind us, and we snuck a kiss, or wanted to, I can’t remember which, haunt me through these streets. I pull my car up to the curb and put it in park. I lean on the steering wheel and feel your eyes on me, as you tell me you wanted to kiss me, and I want you to somehow, and it wasn’t right then but it

Is so right now.

I feel it too he says.

And then you think, well perhaps just one kiss, but we all know there is no such thing. There are mistakes and there is luck, and little room in between.

On the up and up.

I was a little fucked up there for a couple days. A little depressed. It’s interesting, because I hardly ever get depressed, so when I do it seems so traumatic. I mean, I’m always aware that, “I’m not depressed, I’m feeling a depression,” (there is a difference, try focusing on it next time), but it can still wear me out to the point of not functioning for two days or so.

I have a lot to write about, but feel like I can’t say what I really truly deep down want to say. It has occurred to me that this journal is not as private as I’d hoped it would be. What to do, but get on with it already?

Have you guys seen War of the Worlds? As much as I’ve seen of it, I think it was a pretty stupid movie, but for some reason I was on the edge of my seat the whole time. Good ideas, horrible actors. I think I’m just anti-Hollywood.

It’s kind of funny how we progress entertainment-wise, but seem to immediately regret it. As movie technology advances and things get bigger and flashier, there also seems to be a whole barrage of “real people” films exploding on the scene. Movies like Chumscrubber or Happiness, or for you more mainstream kids “Adaptation.” Movies that depict people in “real” situations, with no hint of Hollywood drama. Forget aliens, we’ve got Bill Murray falling in love!

Anyway. I want to write some poetry, but I feel I need to do some damage control and say THIS IS ALL MAKE BELIEVE!!
No, I haven’t fallen in love with the milkman. I’ve simply found this vast holding cell of inspiration that exists somewhere between now and never. Which is to say, I feel it now for one man, my blue eyed sniper, and every man that never came before.