Halloween and the Day of the Dead

No wonder I feel like jumping off the Golden Gate Bridge lately.  The rhythm of nature is now signalling the season of death.  Since ancient times Halloween has been when the veil between the physical and the spiritual is at it's thinnest.  Even those who are not usually "sensitive" experience visits from the beyond this time of year. 

Tomorrow I will celebrate with my pagan sisters doing what, I don't exactly know...  We may set up in my haunted office to see what Mortimer really wants and why the spirit is hanging around.  I guess during all these years nobody has genuinely bothered to ask.  As it stands right now the plans are to either contact Mortimor from beyond or go hit the bars/clubs and dance. 

Choices.

2:27 AM Wake Up: Elton John

I was so restless last night.  I woke up at exactly 2:27 AM to this old Elton John song that was half dream/half wake state.  I actually caught myself trying to sing along in my not-quite-consciousness.  I can still hear my sister playing this on the piano as kids, and my soul can still process the lyrics.  Fast forward 40 years and the same lyrics haunt me now in a totally different realm. 

Selfie: Narcissists

Our culture has even become more narcissistic with technology (if that's even possible).  It's as if everybody now feels the need to document their daily events over social media -- complete with the dreaded "selfie" where the only purpose is to convey, "Look at MEEEEEEEEE!"

 Is that how now we value our worth as a human?  Do we measure ourselves by how many posts, tweets, twits, instagrams, whatever we generate? 

Why do we feel the need to disclose painfully private information and should-be-private-intimate-moments between family and friends?  Why do we feel the need to announce the obvious to the free world like, "I love my boyfriend!!!  My life is now complete."

Are we so self-absorbed we feel the need for an audience for every little thing or we will be forgotten?  Are our egos that pathetic?  I had no idea narcissism could be taken to another level, but we managed it. 

Canada: America "nice"

"Now what" I ask of my sister country to the north after the killings in Ottowa.

Growing up in Minnesota I got plenty of the "Canada is just like the USA -- only better, nicer, and less violent."

A personal pet peeve of mine is the bragging by Canadians (usually ones who are living in the USA) of their non-violent, the-world-loves-us-more-than-you, and pious snobbery of being uber liberal and how they are not like us nasty, gun-loving, knuckle-dragging, ignorant Americans.   Canada is portrayed as a type of social Utopia of how they are beyond senseless bloodshed and killings. Too bad their weather sucks so much and many of them leave.

Which now goes to my first statement now that they are experiencing attacks on their own turf of, "Now what?"

Canada is not immune to attacks by whack-o extremists, either.  It will be interesting to see how Canadians react. 

Ghosts in the Office

I work in a historical building.  It's long been rumored that it's haunted.  For years, I've been blaming misplaced files on Mortimor the Ghost. About 15 years ago I was getting new carpeting in the office and the carpet layer looked at me strangely and said, "Who is that man standing in back of you?"

Huh?  There was not anybody in my office.  I shrugged it off.

My building is really creepy sometimes.  I could go on and on about weird instances over the years, but I will refrain.  The past year or so I've been visited more and more frequently by a male, shadowy figure that walks past my office door.  Even my assistant notices and has said something -- and she is NOT somebody who believes. 

This shadowy figure is now getting noisy.  Yesterday shortly after 5:00 a loud, forceful knock was at my door and the mail slot opened, but nothing came through.  I thought perhaps it was an UPS delivery or something of the like so I jumped up to catch the delivery person before s/he left.  My office is at the end of a hallway.  There is NO way s/he could have left that quickly.  There was nobody there.  I even jogged down the hallway hoping to catch whom I thought the delivery person to no avail.  I even called out loud. 

No mail note, no UPS note, no FedEX note.  Nothing.

Mecury Retrograde

Oh yeah, Mercury is retrograde for most of this month.  Expect to feel frustrated, stuck, and have technical glitches galore.  Expect to be agitated, annoyed, and want to punch somebody. 

I think there may be something to astrology and energy.  I know that belongs to woo-woo science, which many dismiss as pseudo-witchcraft, but whatever.  I'm not one to sell my worldly belongings and follow the Hale-Bop Comet and commit suicide with like-minded fellows in matching sneakers with Heavens Gate devotees. 

What the connection is or isn't I can't prove nor explain.  I can attest to personal "a-HA" moments that defy all measurable scientific theories.  I don't expect anybody to believe me.  I don't preach, either.  All I know is that time is in my favor while I silently sit back and wait for technology to catch up and "measure" to satisfy the masses.  

The world was flat 900 years ago, right?   Germs did not exist 600 years ago.... or did they?  We were not able to quantify it down to human comprehension and measurement.  So we dismissed what actually was, but did not (at the time) have the ability to measure to satisfy our limited human brain. 

Ebola: The only thing spreading is ignorance

Let's put this entire ebola thing into logic, shall we?  I know that is contradictory to manufactured media hype and panic -- the thing that sells papers and draws viewers.  So sad that humans fall for this 'fear and panic' tactic time and time again.  Sigh.

Anyway, I'm really trying to understand how the ebola virus spreads.  This is what I have thus far:

1.  Close contact with an infected, contagious person.  Close contact meaning feces or vomit;
2.  The spread of the virus in West Africa is due to handling infected, contagious corpses by mourners.  Apparently, in their culture handling of the corpse (kissing, hugging, tossing into the air) is part of their funeral.  Sanitation in that part of the world is less than desirable by Western standards;
3.  The virus is not easily spread by what Westerners consider " public, social contact."

This is where it gets murky for me to follow.  There must have been a breakdown in communication somewhere with the Texas nurse who contracted the disease.  I don't think it was disclosed by hospital protocol what she was really dealing with and the hospital did not want go on record of harboring the virus until it was too late.  Something is greatly amiss there. 

Bottom line:  You are more likely to die of the flu than the ebola virus. 

The Pictures

This weekend I'm visiting my active military son.  I have not had a chance to *really* talk with him for 9 months.  Since I've seen him last, he has traveled to Asia and the South China Sea.  Last night I finally got to see pictures from his Asia adventure.

He was scrolling through photos on his phone.  One caught my eye.  I asked him to stop and go back as I wanted to get a better look at the picture.  It looked like a cave.  There was nothing descript about the picture.  For whatever reason I got a sudden rush of sadness and despair.  I asked him what the picture was.  He drew a deep sigh and said it was a picture of an assasination site of American POW's on Wake Island.  I know nothing about the history of Wake Island.  I then got a rush feeling of the irony of being on this beautiful, heavenly island and being tortured to death.

I can't explain how, when, or why I get unpredictable waves of undeniable psychic energy.  All I know is that it happens.

O0h-OO0hhhhhh

Look closely above.  Is that a numeric zero, or an alphabetic O?

O00h-ooo0Oh???  How do we tell the difference?  

Great question... as I'm sure you've all been caught in the "is that a zero or an O" game in submitting codes, passwords, etc. 

Every self-respecting-code-specific-computer-geek-engineer ALWAYS puts a slash through a numeric zero to tell the difference...kind of like Europeans putting a slash through sevens to distinguish them from ones.

Sonoma County History Lesson:  About 20-25 years ago, when Highway 12 was first going through major growing pains, one of the first planned intersection revamps just west of downtown was slated for major construction.  The engineer did marked either what could be interpreted as a 7 or a 1 on some blue print construction plans (I'm going back to pre-computer everything).  The construction crew interpreted incorrectly.  Mess.

Moral of the story... always draw a slash through your sevens and through your zeros.  Expensive, time consuming, mishaps happen.  

Next Generation: Family DysFUNction

Yes.... my family put the FUN in dysFUNctional.  This weekend unloaded a lifetime of latent emotions that have been lingering since I was small.  I finally got sick of it.  What are they (meaning my family) going to do to me?  Take away my birthday (I wish).  Cut me out of the will (I have my own financial plan).

The point of no return was when I learned my barely 18 year-old niece, who recently gave birth in June, was turned in by her boss to Child Protective Services because she was showing signs of being physically abused  by her boyfriend - and also her infant daughter was showing signs of abuse.  A court ordered hearing was set.

No, the boss is not some hate mongering busybody who wants to ruin my niece's life.  She was also a teen mom hooked up with an abusive asshole (she eventually dumped him and now runs a multi-million dollar business) trying to show my niece there is a better way.

I'm sorry, but this pattern of accepting abuse as LOVE was leftover from at least three generations that I can attest to.  It has infiltrated its way through and around to to contaminate at least two more generations of females who render themselves stupid, unworthy, and unable to truly understand what unconditional love really is.

Yup.  I spilled my guts.  My niece hates me now because I dared to tell her how I was tangled up with an abusive asshole who pretty much is the clone of the father of her  child.  I told her how lies were told as truth, promises were unmet, and sucking up my money for his bills/wants/toys/DUI's was the norm, only to be rewarded with physical/emotional abuse and anger that I could not produce MORE to bail him out and cater to HIS needs.  Typical co-dependent.  I actually felt shitty that I did not produce more.

Well, I also dared to tell my niece that the father of her child is a registered pedophile/sex offender who spent 2 years in prison.  Wake the FUCK UP.  Anybody in their right minds would run.

My niece is not in her right mind.  Why should she be?  She has been subject to another generation of Family Bullshit.

My sister (her mother) and her husband have had a lifetime of fucking up my niece and controlling her like she was living in a POW camp.  Now they scratch their heads in disbelief when their daughter rebells.  Duh.    Gee, maybe my niece really did not WANT to spend the weekend at isolated religious camps trying to cram Jahovah Witness bullshit down her throat?  What else were they trying to cram down her throat?

Parenthood: Little Moments of Pride

When my kids were younger I often wondered if my efforts were all in vein.  I never slept.  I was either working at my job, or working at trying to be a good parent.  That was my existence.  Period. 

I know some parents like to measure their parenting skills by test scores, athletic achievements, jobs attained, blah, blah, blah, or other external attributes they can point to. 

Not me.

I had confirmation last night while chatting with my college-age daughter over dinner.  Somehow, we got on the subject of relationships and how some girls her age get caught up in an abusive situation and how they struggle to get out -- if they ever do.  My daughter said, "I have high standards and I'm extremely picky about who will get close to me."

She has a healthy sense of self-esteem and a strong sense of what a balanced, healthy relationship should look like.  With that being said, I do have to give her father credit.  He made it very clear from her birth that she's of worth, and deserves to be shown respect from guys.