Thursday, June 24, 2004

Lucky me got an invite to Amama’s house Monday night. She had some left-over ribs (man, can that beach-boy of hers rock a grill! mmm!), some other good sides, and – oh baby – her famous home made lemon meringue pie. I would say that I’m not worthy, but obviously I am, so, YAY ME!
We had a good time. We got to play with baby*, eat all that good food, half-watch some good flicks (HP and Shrek), and have some much-needed grown-up girl time. We were out on the porch at one point, and I asked her what she thought of my Dream Catcher tribute to her (she was the willow circle) and the other girls. She liked it, and it caused her to think of and speak of how very much she feels she has changed in the last year. I told her that I agreed wholeheartedly, and I described her change by saying that I thought she had “biggened”. She is still very much the same wonderful maniac that she always was – thank god. She is Her Self, and a good and conscientious mom, but she has not become suddenly hypocritical of her self, of her past, or of other people**. She is the same woman, but she seems deeper and more centered, and as if, psychically, there is more of her. I guess that’s what having such a close connection with another little being*** will do for you. Well, should do for you.
I don’t think you have to have a baby to “biggen”, though that seems to be one of the things that should cause an automatic biggening. And obviously just plain old hard-knock life xp doesn’t do it, even if you work really hard to understand all of it, because I remain 'unbiggened'. I guess I know this – feel this – the same way that I feel that Andi has. I just started thinking about it later, when I was alone, and I realized that this is the case.
Maybe it’s unimportant? Like the whole “old soul” thing. I’ve heard people talk about ‘old souls all my life’. I think I know what they mean, I’ve kinda’ gotten the same feeling about some people. And I have the same kind of feeling about the fact that my soul is brand new, original to this body, untrained by the Ancient Cosmos, as it were… Admittedly, I do have some off-the-wall ideas about string theory, the chemical weight of the soul, force of will, Mervyn Peake and early 20th century China, but that’s neither here-nor-there. That’s just physics. Maybe I’ll never ‘biggen’. Maybe I’ll always be this sort of five-year-old, “pudgy-handed”, emotionally clumsy, easily distracted and amused, ridiculously optimistic (at times****), exuberant, playful soul who likes to color, can pitch a helluva fit when she is not happy, and always needs a nap. And maybe that’ll be ok. Maybe I’m big enough already? Maybe I biggened early? Maybe this is as big as I’ll ever get.
Come to think of it, everyone in my family, except my oldest brother (and he’s just good at pretending to be Mr. Big Grown-Up Man) feel like “new souls”, like perma-pre-schoolers. I don’t mean that as an insult, not even when I say it about myself, but if you knew all my people, you’d see what I mean. I’m not the left-field weirdo I often seem to be, at least not when in the company of my relatives – despite what they say.
Growing up? Over rated? Let’s discuss.

And now for the good stuff - the News (courtesy of “The Quibbler” and other sources):
I received this tidbit under the subject heading “Here’s a cage match for you”:
‘Brad Pitt has been branded a "wimp" by Hollywood actor Val Kilmer - who claims the Troy star's muscle-bound physique on film posters have been "air-brushed". Kilmer, 44 - who will appear in rival epic Alexander later this year - has challenged Pitt's widely publicized weight training, claiming his beefy figure was faked. The Batman Forever star
says, "I saw those pictures of Brad Pitt, that's all air-brushed in, you know. He's a nice guy but he's a wimp."
-source unknown (but still funny as all get-out.)

This little chunk of yuck is something I normally wouldn’t post, but I thought it might be nice to put this guy’s photo out there, in case he moves into your neighborhood.

And here’s something that is just worth seeing 'cause it's so dang cute and novel. Stewart turned me onto this new hybrid (he's my good friend, and knows me well, so he sends me lots of pictures of cute, ugly baby aminals) yesterday via some cnn link. I assumed it was a new and relatively unknown hybrid, but apparently these cute little mookies have been around for years. I couldn't find the original link he showed me either, so it may be out of date. I dunno.

...and sadly, connecting these last two stories (WARNING: if you are easily offended or under 18, DO NOT click these links), is the personal observation from your very own Q.ot G., that “furries” are HANDS DOWN the most frightening, disturbing, sad group of geeks out there. Frankly, they just SCARE me.
Ewwww…” just doesn’t cut it sometimes.

And finally, let me publicly state, in this EXTREMELY public format, that if I ever say anything here that you all disagree with, or think is hurtful and wrong, well, I just hope you all know that I expect to be called on it. You can write me, you can call me, you can tell me to my face. (The same goes for anything I say out loud, too. Even if you’ve just heard it second-hand, ask me.) I don’t like to be called on anything, of course - I am a human, a woman, a Leo, and a know-it-all with pretty damned good credentials and record, but I am also wrong sometimes (not very often, but still...), and I respect the hell out of people brave enough to say so. I will defend myself, or I will apologize, but what I will NOT do is pretend that this is a private forum here and be stupidly indignant about anyone reading this. I have readers in Spain, Iceland, Norway, England and other foreign climes, as well as all over the US. I am proud of this fact, and if I were going to be an idiot and b*!@# about people reading my “private thoughts”, well, (a.) – I’d hope that my readers would write/call/come over and kick my @$$ for being so !@#$ stupid, and (b.) I’D GET A !@#$ DIARY AND A PEN AND KEEP IT UNDER MY !@#$ MATTRESS.
*sheesh *
Idiots of the world unite. Preferably in Baghdad. Wear red shirts, with concentric circles on. Do it for the good of mankind.

much love – and a little castigation,
-s

*am hoping that she is not traumatized for life by my beanie-baby rendition of ‘The Dance of the Sugarplum Fairies’…
**unlike several folks in my own blood-clan…
***who takes up a pretty considerable chunk of psychic real estate herself…
**** – as howlingly bleak as only migrants from the Chunky Spunky Planet of Mary Lou Retton Clones on irregular doses of psycho-active drugs can be, at other times.

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