Big Decision

I had decided after many days of soul searching, do remove myself from my meds, then I chickened out. I cant risk all the things I have rebuilt, including Daniel. SO I'm waiting for a call from my Dr. to advise me the best way to go about this, and what it will take to right the ship. Daniel and I just talked and he assured me I wouldn't lose him by trying this. In just told him this momentous news right as he was waking up. I had to or I would have chickened out. So I promised the next time I threw a news grenade at him, Id yell a heads up first LOL.

Cool Poetry Alert!

Do not go after the past,
Nor lose yourself in the future.
For the past no longer exists,
And the future is not yet here.
By looking deeply at things just as they are,
In this moment, here and now,
The seeker lives calmly and freely.
You should be attentive today,
For waiting until tomorrow is too late.
Death can come and take us by surprise--
How can we gainsay it?
The one who knows
How to live attentively
Night and day
Is the one who knows
The best way to be independent.

-Bhaddekaratta Sutra

LYRICS ALERT

Have mercy on me baby
I'm down upon my knees
Have mercy on me baby
I'll do just as you please
Well you know that I love you
I'll put noone else above you
Have mercy on me baby, have mercy

Have mercy on me baby
Please have a little heart
Have mercy on me baby
You're tearing me apart
The way that you do me
You know you done got to me
Have mercy on me baby, have mercy

She's got you hypnotized
And your brain is paralyzed
You know she's only playing with you
Like a puppet on a string
Remember just one thing
She can't love you like I do, no

Have mercy on me baby
Please give this heart a break
Have mercy on me baby I
'll do just what it takes
You know you won't regret it
So hey there now I said it
Have mercy on me baby, have mercy

Have mercy
Have mercy on me baby
Have mercy on me baby
Have mercy on me
Have mercy on me baby
Please have mercy on me

Loretta Lyn "Have Mercy" 2004 Van Lear Rose

QUOTE ALERT!!

"Writing is a lot like sex. At first you do it because you like it. Then you find yourself doing it for a few close friends and people you like. But if you're any good at all...you end up doing it for money." - Unknown

Communication breakdown Saturday night part 3

*CAVEAT: some of the next part of the story I am remembering the best way I can, I was really upset and tired and hurting when the next part happened, so I will try to be as exact as possible, in the name of fairness*

Sometime about 11PM, Daniel walked up to me and wrapped his arms around me and asked me if I was ok with the whole situation. Um....I started shaking and the first tears rolled. So we walked back to our room and closed the door and the sobbing began, And I let spew forth as much as I could make coherent between sobs. I told him my fears about the lady, I told him I didn't think it was a good idea to propose to me and still play. So he said that's fine, Ill propose another time. That made it worse, because I wanted to be proposed to that night. It finally broke down to him saying I didn't want to be in the lifestyle anymore because I never played at parties anymore, and that him playing made him look like an ass (see previous posts). That in turn made me feel even more shitty and the crying got worse. The he asked me if I even wanted him to play with this lady. I couldn't answer him, he took it as no and walked out to tell her. That pretty much finished me for the night. I tried to finish bartending but I couldn't I was crying so hard. I was so hurt and miserable. Wayne, my friend and partner in the bar, took over while I went back to a back room to try to calm down. I was hurt that she was there in the first place, hurt that he didn't truly understand what I was thinking and trying to tell him concerning her. I was frustrated that I couldn't make him understand the pain of the withdrawal was making the emotions worse. I felt I FELT LIKE A HYSTERICAL, JEALOUS SHREW THAT WAS BEING A BIG BABY. A bit later he came back to the room and held me so I calmed down enough to wash up and go to sleep. He came to bed and we made love and I felt safe again.

I know that most of the problems was a lack of communication on my part, as well as my perception being skewered. Daniel has asked me to talk to this lady, and I have. We have never said a cross word to each other. And I won't tell him he can't play with her, that is his decision. Al I wanted was to have my concerns acknowledged, and he has. Now what happens, happens. I love this man and I just want to protect him from all things that can harm him or our relationship. However, I can't go too far, or the only threat to our future will be me. But, I won't quit listening to my intuition, it has protected me and has worked. So we shall see. He is moving here to be with me, we want to get married and we will. We want to have children, and we will. And (this is for you Daniel) I want to reaffirm my belief in this lifestyle. Swinging is respect and freedom and I am committed to staying in it, contrary to my recent behavior that may be seen as otherwise. All I need is to get through this transition, and all will be better.

Communication breakdown Saturday night part 2

We had a swing party in Prestonsburg, Ky this weekend for our club. Daniel was hosting his first party, and I was bartending/representing the owner of the club. I was tired and miserably sick from both the withdrawal from Wellbutrin and the fibromyalgia. However, I am proud to the point of stupidity, so I tried to show as little of this as possible. Most of the day I had been getting rumblings that this would be the night Daniel would propose to me. We had the ring already, and most of our friends were there to begin with. Made sense to me. Daniel, sometime that afternoon, told me that a lady he had played with at Rocker's was coming up to the party, intending ONLY to play with him. Remember the previous post about gut feelings about women who have the capability to go nutso? The sirens were screaming loud for this one. Did I tell Daniel my fears? No, because I had no proof; she had always been nice but kind of cool to me, and she is married. So I generally assumed( never do this PLEASE), that since he was going to play he wasn't going to propose to me. Now I don't know why I felt so strongly about wanting him not to play the night he proposed. I was wacky from the withdrawal, and had a crazy-stupid romantic notion that the one night he proposed he wouldn't want anyone but me. So I was already disappointed and hurt before the party even started. Did I show it-no. Did I tell him my expectations-no. Like I said, I'm proud to the point of stupid.
The party started pretty well. I was stressed from trying to get the bar organized, but not overly so. Most everybody knew of my med situation, and were trying to keep me relaxed. The aforementioned lady showed up when Daniel had left for awhile, and though she was nice to me and I was nice to her, the alarm bells were screeching. Daniel got back and was playing host and talking, of course paying attention to her. I ignored the screeching and tended bar, but the projectile hissy fit was building. Daniel was showing my engagement ring to everyone, and it hit me hard that he just might propose to me, and he still wanted to play, with her. Ouch, big time. I was on the edge of maintaining my fragile emotional state. LOL it didn't last.

Communication breakdown Saturday night part 1

To set this story up, I need to tell two other stories first.
1)When John and I were working in Wyoming, he worked with a female Sous chef. She was friendly but I got a gut feeling she was wanting more than she could have from John. She would accidentally show up at certain places we were ( we later found from friends she was asking others about our location at certain times). She would do silly things at work so that he would have to stay late to work with her. She would show up at our apartment at weird times uninvited, or she would bug John to come over to her place to "hang out" (not including me in the invite). I told John about this gut feeling that she was trouble, but he just couldn't see it. He thought she was just being friendly. It got to the point that, after we both confronted her, she got mean and would leave letters, make phone calls and hang up, etc. Life was generally tense with her till the season ended and we left for Key West (parts unknown to her). He would get an occasional email from her, half flirtatious, half reproachful, until he died. So I have great trust in my intuition when it comes to other women and they wanting more than is offered from the men in my life. It already had happened once concerning a girl Daniel was playing with, who turned out to be psycho. My gut is usually never wrong about such things, even if it takes awhile for the proof to manifest.

2) I have never had a proper proposal of marriage. John proposed to me in the back seat of a car on the way back from a road trip in July, 1995, by saying "Hey, can we go get married soon?" And what I mean by "proper" is on one knee, romantic and wonderful. It was after the third time asking in the space of 6 weeks I finally relented, in late August. We were married in Sept., 1995 (another post for another time).

3) As I have stated in a previous post, I'm changing meds, and am wont to be extremely emotional and quite unable to control these emotions. I cry like a running faucet at the least provocation, despite my best efforts to try to maintain composure.

Now consider all these aspects when reading part 2 of this post.

This is getting old..The medwars and how they fuck up everything

"Depression is merely anger without enthusiasm."
-- Unknown --

This quote made me laugh, it was so true. Since I haven't posted for so long, most are out of the loop about my antidepressant situation. Simply, and as they are wont to do, my Wellbutrin quit working. This happens periodically, as my long time readers will know, happened about this time last year. Last year, there was no alternative meds available, so I had to go off the meds then restart them after a month. That was not a pleasant experience. This year, a new med called Cymbalta has been released that helps with depression AND fibromyalgia pain. WOO HOO! However, the same shitty experience has to be dealt with: tapering off the Wellbutrin. Even though it had quit working, it still hurts like hell to slowly wean ones self away. Now I can't even begin to dare to presume how horrible it is to withdrawal from other drugs, but antidepressants are pretty bad enough.

For one, your judgment is skewered. I am a walking, open seeping wound. The least remark, the most minor things annoy the hell out of me at best, tear my heart out at the worst. My poor baby Daniel is having to deal with this. All the things that meant nothing to me a month ago are now ripping at me. The biggest thing: sex. This is how I first could tell I was maxing out the Wellbutrin, I had lost interest in having sex with others who I wasn't well acquainted with first. This has effectively shut down the escort business, and that really doesn't break my heart any. It makes swing parties miserable as well, for two reasons: I don't feel like playing and that makes me feel guilty for letting Daniel down, and makes Daniel feel guilty for playing even though I have told him to do so. I just don't want anyone who isn't very close to me to touch me. No one new interests me. There are couples that only swap with other couples, and I don't feel like wanting a strange man to touch me, so that effectively knocks Daniel out of playing. This isn't putting too much of a strain on us so far, but it hurts me deeply to disappoint him.

Phobias that tend never be in my nature surface when I'm either maxing out of meds or tapering.
The updated list: http://www.phobialist.com/reverse.html
Anything new- Neophobia
being severely criticized- Rhabdophobia
Crowds -Enochlophobia, Demophobia or Ochlophobia
Noises, loud- Ligyrophobia
Places, crowded public- Agoraphobia
Strangers - Xenophobia
This normally will right itself when the new meds....but my patience wears thin. I just have to maintain until I have righted myself again and hope I don't drive Daniel away in the process.

3 years...Letter to a dead man.

Dearest John,
At 12:23PM today, it will have been three years since you have been gone. I am not the same woman you married, and I don't even know if you would like the woman I am now, much less love her. I have learned in your absence how low I can go, and how very base I can be. I have learned how to lie, cheat and steal very very well. I have sunk into the very pit of ugliness the human soul can dive to. And yet....

I have learned that pride is a very useless, trite thing, and that if I want to be generous, I need to let others be too. I have learned how to make less go way more. I have discovered I am a good artist. I have made very deep, loyal friends who love and respect me, despite the numerous flaws. I have discovered I am beautiful despite all the things I tell myself to the contrary, just like you said. And like you told me, I have survived your passing. I have survived it, not with the grace I would have liked, but I have.

As you also have said, I have moved on with my life. You would like Daniel, he is a wonderful man. He's not as jealous as you were, but just as kind and generous. He's also younger than I, which probably makes you laugh. We plan to marry and have children and plan a life together. It was marriage with you that prepared me for this new life, never forget that.

So I get ready to spend the day with Daniel, know that even though the distance in time keeps growing, you are always as close as a thought.

Love
Zezrie

The countdown begins...Differently....

In 9 days time, it will be the third anniversary of John's death. Last year I wrote a long extended series about his death. It was cathartic. But this past year my life has been blessed with joy and healing. Thus, I will be writing anecdotes and stories celebrating his life, his humor and stubbornness. Here is the first....

I met John at a Society for Creative Anachronisms event in Cincinnati, OH, on Feb. 1995. He was my friend LJ's dad. LJ and I were heavily into the SCA, and he suggested that we meet his dad, who lived in Cincy with his ex wife (who I never met, but the child they had, Jocelyn, is a wonder). LJ looked a lot like his dad, but he didn't talk much. He told me later he didn't know what to say to me; he was tongue tied. The may of the same year, John moved to Lexington to be closer to LJ. That's when I realized the whole quiet guy thing was a ruse. He was verbose and volatile, and funny. For the first two weeks, he was really nice, always seeming to have some little gift for me whenever he saw me. I thought that was weird, but didn't ponder on it much.

After being in town, John and I and a few friends decided to go to Lynaugh's for dinner. John proceeded to get sloppy, shitfaced drunk. He was hysterical. We all went back to LJ's that night and it was summer so I was on the porch. John came out to join me, and launched into this monologue about how he -was-always-a-gentleman-he-never-got-fresh speech. Of course he was drunk and this was coming out of left field. After about 20 minutes when he paused for breath I asked him what his point was. He looked surprised, then shamefaced then asked, "Well, since I've been a gentleman up to now...Do you want to 'fool around'"!
A feather could have knocked me over. I had no clue he was interested in me that way. I just considered him a friend, nothing remotely more. I kind of stammered I'd have to think about it, and fled the porch headed for home, kinda stunned. I was a virgin pretending I wasn't one so my friends wouldn't think I was a freak. I was not quite 24. I had know idea what my answer was going to be.

More places to help Hurricane Katrina Victims

The Federal Emergency Management Agency lists these organizations for those seeking to assist victims of Hurricane Katrina:

Donate cash
American Red Cross (800) HELP NOW (435-7669) English; (800) 257-7575 Spanish

Operation Blessing (800) 436-6348

America's Second Harvest (800) 344-8070

To donate cash or volunteer
Adventist Community Services (800) 381-7171

Catholic Charities, USA (703) 549-1390

Christian Disaster Response (941) 956-5183 or (941) 551-9554

Christian Reformed World Relief Committee (800) 848-5818

Church World Service (800) 297-1516

Convoy of Hope (417) 823-8998

Lutheran Disaster Response (800) 638-3522

Mennonite Disaster Service (717) 859-2210

Nazarene Disaster Response (888) 256-5886

Presbyterian Disaster Assistance (800) 872-3283

Salvation Army (800) SAL-ARMY (725-2769)

Southern Baptist Convention -- Disaster Relief (800) 462-8657, ext. 6440

United Methodist Committee on Relief (800) 554-8583

Loss

I was watching the news footage about Hurricane Katrina this morning online. There was a man with a small child, howling with grief when the news crew walked up. They asked where he had been; on top of a roof with his wife and family he tells them. "But where is your wife?"they ask. He sobbs that they cant find her body, that he tried to hold onto her but she slipped. Right before she lost her grasp she tells him to take care for their children and grandchildren. The she sank out of sight.
There was so much devastation that it overwhelms you and numbs you. But that one news cast will haunt me for I don't know how long. This is what people need to see, the human cost.
How you can help:

The American Red Cross
http://www.redcross.org/

The Salvation Army
http://www.salvationarmyusa.org/

Love and separation and love some more

Daniel and I have tried to keep a steady, every weekend visiting policy. He's been with me the past two weekends, and its been heaven. It is getting so painful to see him go, and it's always traumatic each time. I used to think people who tried to keep long distance love going were dumb to waste their time, and masochistic. LOL let me enter the club, because now I understand.
We are talking about deep, important things now: marriage, children, future. Our life views are amusingly different on so many things. He has a Protestant work ethic, whereas I will work like a Protestant only if the work has meaning. I tend to let stress either bounce off like water or just pile up until I have a huge anxiety attack, but Daniel hits it head on like a challenge.

The biggest thing is that he worries that I will fall out of love with him. I was crying on the way home from breakfast Sunday because: 1) He was leaving sooner than I had anticipated, since our friend who he was taking home needed to leave, and 2) My antidepressants aren't working that well and I've been crying at toilet paper commercials. It was the first time I'd let myself cry in front of him, the biggest sign of love and trust there is. If I cry in front of you, then I trust you enough not to hurt me, because when I cry, I am an open wound. He asked me if this was a "breaking up" kind of cry, which made me cry harder because it was the farthest thing from my mind. I wanted to keep him by my side, as long as I could, and short of cutting his tires or removing his distributor cap, I was helpless to make him stay.

Daniel,
I can honestly say that I have had two great loves in my life: John, and now you. I told you last night that I don't fall out of love, I just reshuffle people on my love hierarchy. You fill my heart, and will be there as long as I am breathing. I was scared to have children with John, and I never told him that. I am not scared to have them with you. In fact, this is the very first time in my life I have wanted to have a child this badly, and ONLY with you. You have such a caring, loving soul. Your are as wise as you are passionate ( and for a Scorpio passion is paramount so.....). To say you complete me is pretty damn cliche, but you bring out the very best in me, how's that ( saying you had me at hello is also true but pretty bad too...I hated Jerry McGuire). I just know life is too short, and I want things sooner rather than later, so I need patience. But know that I love you, you are my all.

POETRY ALERT!!!!!!!

I've said before that every craftsman searches for what's not there to practice his craft.
A builder looks for the rotten hole where the roof caved in. A water-carrier picks the empty pot. A carpenter stops at the house with no door.

Workers rush toward some hint of emptiness, which they then start to fill. Their hope, though, is for emptiness, so don't think you must avoid it. It contains what you need! Dear soul, if you were not friends with the vast nothing inside, why would you always be casting you net into it, and waiting so patiently?

This invisible ocean has given you such abundance, but still you call it "death", that which provides you sustenance and work.

God has allowed some magical reversal to occur, so that you see the scorpion pit as an object of desire, and all the beautiful expanse around it, as dangerous and swarming with snakes.
This is how strange your fear of death and emptiness is, and how perverse the attachment to what you want.

Now that you've heard me on your misapprehensions, dear friend, listen to Attar's story on the same subject.

He strung the pearls of this about King Mahmud, how among the spoils of his Indian campaign there was a Hindu boy, whom he adopted as a son. He educated and provided royally for the boy and later made him vice-regent, seated on a gold throne beside himself.

One day he found the young man weeping.. "Why are you crying? You're the companion of an emperor! The entire nation is ranged out before you like stars that you can command!"

The young man replied, "I am remembering my mother and father, and how they scared me as a child with threats of you! 'Uh-oh, he's headed for King Mahmud's court! Nothing could be more hellish!' Where are they now when they should see me sitting here?"

This incident is about your fear of changing. You are the Hindu boy. Mahmud, which means Praise to the End, is the spirit's poverty or emptiness.

The mother and father are your attachment to beliefs and blood ties and desires and comforting habits. Don't listen to them! They seem to protect but they imprison.

They are your worst enemies. They make you afraid of living in emptiness.
Some day you'll weep tears of delight in that court, remembering your mistaken parents!
Know that your body nurtures the spirit, helps it grow, and gives it wrong advise.
The body becomes, eventually, like a vest of chain mail in peaceful years, too hot in summer and too cold in winter.

But the body's desires, in another way, are like an unpredictable associate, whom you must be patient with. And that companion is helpful, because patience expands your capacity to love and feel peace. The patience of a rose close to a thorn keeps it fragrant. It's patience that gives milk to the male camel still nursing in its third year, and patience is what the prophets show to us.

The beauty of careful sewing on a shirt is the patience it contains.
Friendship and loyalty have patience as the strength of their connection.
Feeling lonely and ignoble indicates that you haven't been patient.

Be with those who mix with God as honey blends with milk, and say,
"Anything that comes and goes, rises and sets, is not what I love." else you'll be like a caravan fire left to flare itself out alone beside the road.

Rumi VI (1369-1420) from 'Rumi : One-Handed Basket Weaving

Hawthorne

Once again, Kelly (www.kellyrae.blogspot.com) posts a snippet about Portland, OR and it sends me into a tailspin of memories. The Hawthorne District of Portland is a hippy liberal paradise. I absolutely adored every sublime inch. The biggest memory her blog brought back was about a Goddess Temple there. I can't remember the name, and when I looked I couldn't find it online. It has been 6 years, and is probably gone by now.
But it was there when I needed it, after my aunt Tish died of lung cancer in October, 1999. It was a huge Victorian house with a wild and perfect garden on all four sides. They never questioned my motives, just gave me a tour of the house and told me I was welcome to all they had. Each public room was dedicated to a particular deity or usage.

I wanted only to commune with Kali Ma (http://www.themystica.org/mythical-folk/articles/kali_ma.html). My own patroness was, and still is, Hecate. Kali Ma is somewhat like Her, except where Hecate is old and wise, Kali Ma is furious. As I was furious and helpless over Tish's death, a death that came at such a young age (she was a few months shy of 40). I was 28, and hers was the closest death to me I had ever known at the time. I wanted to feel blood and taste blood. The Kali Room was blood, saguine red, with soft red pillows all laying on red carpet. I spent quite a few hours in that room, crying and asking why. I gradually came to the conclusion that it was not my place to ask why, just to deal with what happens. It was a cleansing, and very useful lesson that would serve me well later in life.

I often wish that a place like that was here in Lexington. But, I don't think magick like that really could exist anywhere else. Portland, especially Hawthorne district, has a spell all its own. McMennamins has the best beer, and the shops added a presence. Lexington is too Southern, a different vibe. I so miss it sometimes....thanks again Kelly.

Heros come from all places

I have been following Cindy Sheehan's story for the past week now. It's only been today that I have been compelled to write. To begin here is something about her:
Cindy Sheehan was a normal housewife from a normal family, with 4 healthy children from California. She bothered no one and minded her business. Many would have called her the picture of normal American middle class values. Then her son Casey, a father of twins himself, was killed in the line of duty in Iraq. Devastated by her loss, she eventually met with our "president" (my quotation marks). To Cindy, his reaction to her seemed remote and unfeeling. A few weeks later, Dubya called her son's death "noble". That's what set this otherwise placid woman off.
She wants to meet Bush again and ask him some fairly simple questions: what made her son's death noble? If it was so noble, why isn't Bush's two hellion daughters in the armed forces, in Iraq? And finally, she wants to ask him to quit using her son as an example to boost morale about an immoral war.
This is not an unreasonable request. She is camped out a few miles from his ranch in Crawford Texas until she gets her answers. What got my nickers in a bunch about the whole thing was one woman's criticism about Cindy Sheehan. This woman, the mother of a serviceman, claimed Cindy was disrespecting the troops, that Cindy doesn't support them.....
This woman is trying to make sense of her son's death, and have the troops that are on duty returned home safe and sound. What is disrespectful about wanting our troops out of harm's way? What is disrespectful on wanting accountability for the death of her son that was caused by a war based on a LIE!!! Bush started this war on a lie, there were never WMS in Iraq. What do you call a president that uses thousands of American troops in a personal vendetta, not giving a flying fuck if they live or die? What do you call a man who personal agenda is the ends that justifies the means, at the cost of American lives? I have many names for such a man: Satan, Hitler, despot, lunatic, sociopath. My favorite is Scumfuck....
I consider this woman my hero....and here are ways we can help her. The following comes from the website http://www.meetwithcindy.org/

What you can do to help:
1. Come to Crawford
We need your support. There is power in numbers. Join us in Crawford now!
Crawford Peace House
Mapquest
Directions to get there
2. Help Others Get to Crawford
If you can't come to Crawford, please contribute to a fund to cover the costs of assisting others with their travel and their stay in Crawford.
DONATE to the Crawford Peace House.
3. Contact the Media
Ask the media to cover Cindy Sheehan's request to meet with the President, and to cover the contrast between pre-war claims for why war was needed and current knowledge of what the facts were known to be. Here's how.
4. Call the White House
Call the White House and ask the staff there to contact the President on his ranch and ask him to meet with Cindy Sheehan.
Comments: 202-456-1111Switchboard: 202-456-1414FAX: 202-456-2461E-Mail comments@whitehouse.gov
Contact Congress
Sen. George Allen (Republican, Va.) has publicly encouraged the President to meet with Cindy Sheehan. Has your Congress Member and each of your Senators done so?Ask them to!

Hmmmmmmmm

Ok, here is an update to the status quo that is my life. Have heart, I shall return to posting pithy, intelligent entries in the near future.

* The money situation still sucks, but I did get another job at the university with my own office and everything, just not a raise.

*Ebay business is finally running, albeit slow.

* Escort business is pitiful, I wonder how long it will take for things to pick up.

* Daniel and I are better than ever, and very much in love....and looking at rings.

Some creative things going on, but not nearly enough.

WTF

Ok my life is now been broken down into a series of "what do to now" lists. Here is the breakdown:
Financial;
* Attempt to make a living at a 8-4:30 job at a university, failing miserably at it.
*Atempt to augment living with being an escort, but it is a slow spell.
* Attempt to augment living working for Mr B, but its sporadic.

Social;
* Attempt to run a swing club with limited resources (see above) while owner VERY SLOWLY recuperates from illness.
* Attempt to paint every blue moon.
* Attempt to keep a incredibly fulfilling relationship going despite distance and time constraints (luckily this one is working better than the rest).

Emotional;

*Attempt to avoid nervous breakdown....
*Attempt to avoid nervous breakdown....
*Oh did I mention I'm trying not to lose it?


It explains the existential funk I'm trying to stave off right now, just the hint of depression in the air. I had an interview with another department today and it went well, but wont be much more money. I wont be attending SCAD, and have no prospects in the future of doing so, unless I learn the ancient art of shitting 100$ bills. I have another business opportunity I'm checking into, but its vague as of right now. Do I have any creative outlets going right now? Besides my clandestine affair with a 16 year old (Harry Potter) and this blog, I have nil. I cant paint, it just makes me cry. my sewing has hit nothing. I'm just got my feet stuck in the knee deep mud you call life and I cant pull myself out, and the one person who could help me yank myself out is too far away to reach, with no fault of his own. Sigh...

The spell is broken..and its a good thing

I know it has been a long while since I have posted. This summer has been hot and hectic and monumental.
My pentacle broke away Saturday night. Ok a down and dirty lesson in magical items: they have a power all their own. When the reason for them being there is gone, they too will move on. When the chain breaks, the pentacle no longer wants to be worn. My husband's pentacle ( a pentacle is a 5 pointed star within a circle, one point up, worn around the neck, normally made out of sterling silver), which was hanging on his bed rail, disappeared 2 days before he died. It was the ultimate sign of his oncoming death. Thus, when he did draw his last breaths, my pentacle was on his heart to feel it's last beat. That pentacle has been around my neck for 6 years, only being removed for the most dire of reasons. It held John's essence, and his protection. It was the last remaining thing from that previous life I still actively wore. On Saturday afternoon, the chain snapped and fell beside me on the bed.
I cried for an hour, out of so many emotions: grief, fear, and loss mixed with unfathomable joy and renewal. John's pentacle, the one he had custom made for me, had decided it's purpose was done. All the lessons that needed to be learned from his life and death have been completed. I can now remarry and have children with absolutely no remorse. This means I get a new pentacle to represent the new life before me, purchased by the man who will be the biggest part of my life in the next stage. I didn't have to explain any of this to Daniel, he was overjoyed when I told him and he knew exactly what he needed to do. This new pentacle will be more important to me than an engagement ring, because even though Daniel is a Christian now, he knows its meaning and importance behind the pentacle and respects it.
I will still miss the man that pentacle represented, and the life I had and could have had. But the new life and the future is what's important.

A pop quiz kinda LYRICS ALERT

Here's a bit of a challenge: Tell me the name of this song, you get a bronze star. Tell me the band, and you get a sliver star. You translate it into English, and you not only get a gold star, you get my neverending admiration.

Ecce Mundi Gaudium
Ecce Salus Gentium
Virgo Parit Filium
Sine Violentia

Ave Virgo Regia
Dei Plena Gracia

Natus est de Virgine
Sine viri semine
Qui mundat a crimine
Rex qui regit omnia

Ave Virgo Regia
Dei Plena Gracia

Angelus pastoribus
Natus est in gentibus
Qui dat pacem omnibus
Sua provedentia

Ave Virgo Regia
Dei Plena Gracia

Regestria premia
Offerentis varia
Stella ducit previa
Ad salutis gaudia

Ave Virgo Regia
Dei Plena Gracia

Cumnul scira potuit
De nato rex fremuit
E tota gens tremuit
Christi natalitia

Ave Virgo Regia
Dei Plena Gracia

Cum mori per gladios
Rachel videt proprios
Mesta plorat filios
Nulla sont solatia