I was going to put this rant in the FML thread but I guess I'll put it here since "Being Crazy" is like a job or whatever.
So I see signs and stuff and it's like a job, but a very lonely one because nobdy ever really says "Oh those are good signs you saw there Amie, Good job.
" so I get no feedback other than feedback in signs which is kinda a closed loop because sure I'm going to tell myself I'm on the right track, right? I'm crazy, I want to believe these signs are true. So anyway, it's like my job is to assert there's a mystical "sacred feminine" at work in the cosmic world and the mystery of the woman, long suppressed, is what fuels miracles and hope for humanity or some such thing. So there's that.
Then there's this "union" thing I got going where I believe I'm talking to my soulmate who happen to be Morrissey and together we fight evil and catch bad guys and keep people and animals safe and keep everything calm and sorta event-free. A slow news day is an awesome news day kinda thing. So sometimes, in my job, I get absolutely exhausted and I breakdown and I think "Why doesn't he love me? Why doesn't he want me?" because he never calls or writes or anything, it;s always this hermetically sealed from each other bullshit that sometimes feels like is controlled by muckymucks who prefer a good miracle to knowing that two birds are cuddled in their nest together, so there;s that aspect of it too. So anyway, I had a meltdown last night after watching that Edith Piaf movie and I jsut asked "Why doesn;t he come get me?"
I know this thought pattern is irrational. I know this. I am also just a fan like everyone else, but I'm sorta touched in the head too, but not in a stalkery way, just a quiet, colorful way.
A N Y W A Y...
So I think this thought and wait, lemme backtrack.
So I';ve been housesitting for a week in East LA and I came home last night only to find that our dog Teddy (he's the house dog, Barney is my sidekick who goes with me everywhere) was in the hospital. Apparently while I was gone he ate something bad, or something and was, and I quote my mother "scratching his swollen fannyhole."
So part of being a signsee-er is seeing everything in metaphor, so I have to think all night why Teddy or TD or Ten4 has lost a pound of weight from dehydration from vomitting all day and not eating because of his swollen fannyhole. In America when my mom says fanny, she;s referring to his butthole.
So this morning I wake up and have to take a quick shower because the water to our house was scheduled to be off for four hours. After my show'er I drive to the vet to check on Teds and the vet takes me back to see him, in a cage with an IV (yale anyone?) attached to him and I can't take him home, He quivers in my arms but stick to this yellow bag of liquid, given to him by the SAME VET who "accidently" used a cotton swab on a wooden skewer and poked a hole in my dog Barney's ear drum causing infection and everytime you treat the infection with a liquid, it bubbles out his nose and down his throat because the vet f***ed up. He;s an okay vet, he just doesn;t seem to know what he's doing and my Teds is hooked up to an IV in a cage and the vet tech says, "He's okay. He's happy!" I know my dog and he wasn't happy.
So all of that after getting Rick Rolled this morning and melt down last night and my mom saying fannyhole over and over because of the whole sacred feminine butt=vag thing...sometimes it;s just too much and I f***ing hate my job. And I'm on the other thread sounding like a f***ing lunatic going on about parrots and alchemy and now all you guys KNOW I;m a f***ing nutjob but really I'm not.
Teddy's home tonight though. That makes me feel better.
And I love that photo of Morrissey, I just can't stand having to contemplate the era it was taken and any subsequent "swingers" parties unrelated to Moz that might've...nevermind. Bleh. That photo did make me quite happy this morning. I love those little parts of the job, seeing new images of him.
Okay. I'm done ranting.
, not being a potential date anyway. I see you're still trying very hard to be in it...But no.
