Elementally Speaking: What's Your Sign?

"Fire, water...air and dirt...fucking magnets...how do they work?"

Insane Clown Posse

Quoting Insane Clown Posse again was not intentional, I swear.  They're just so fucking brilliant!  This blog will not be...but you'll laugh! 

So, my friend Isa, another Leo/fire sign, and I got together for some Little G Weevil at Blind Willie's.  Of course we sat up front, because the pedestals - I mean bar stools - were too far away from the action.  And of course we were loud.  That's just how it is.  Photo session with Little G?  Absolutely!  Hair?  Fabulous!  Fabulous meaning somewhere between don't fuck with me and just got laid.  Seriously, when it comes to Leos, if you don't know what you're doing...don't touch the hair!  Just get it over with.

The only thing missing was a couple of scorpions lurking in the background. 

For some reason, I'm hearing Cheech and Chong, although they are totally not Scorpios...but for the purposes of this blog, my Scorpios will have hippie Mexican accents.  No offense to either Scorpios or Mexicans.

Scorpio Cheech:  Duuuuude...this water is cold, it's fucking freezing in here!

Scorpio Chong:  Keep it down man, keep it down!  Smell that?

Scorpio Cheech (sniffing):  Ohhhhh...dude...is that what I think it is?!

Scorpio Chong:  Shhhhhhhhhh!  Siiiii...it is fire...and not just any fire...it is the...

Unison:  Jungle Boogie!  Score!  Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh....

Scorpio Chong:  Yeah man, those bitches can hear a hyena fart two jungles away.

Scorpio Cheech:  So what's the plan? 

Scorpio Chong:  We have to study this situation...one false move and they'll eat us for breakfast.

Okay...SCENE!

This isn't complicated.  When it comes to elements, fire and water are very predictable.  Actually, fire is  more predictable...but both are strong forces of nature.  Both have the power to destroy everything in its path.  

Like this:

Source

Or like this:

Source

Either way, you're going to lose the house.  Indeed.  This pairing falls into the category of "hot mess." 

And if you look at what's going on in the world today (or, for that matter, at any time) the struggle between these two elements is obvious. The quest for fire and the need to control it will never cease.  The need for water is obvious.  This is why Leos and Scorpios, fire and water, are such natural magnets.  They need each other.  And while there's an inherent struggle for power that plays out really well in some ways, finding balance in other ways is very tricky. 

Between the two of us, Isa and I have five Scorpio ex-husbands.  We'd be good candidates for cosmetic surgeons specializing in the removal of scorpion ass sting scars.  Apparently, her ass has room for a few more because she has a date with one tonight.  Please join me in prayer. 

Seriously, my last Scorpio husband stung my ass good.  His need to control my fire was so great that I had one tiny little flame left in the end.  Fortunately, it was enough heat to slowly bring me back to the surface of those dark, murky waters.  I had to crawl back to the jungle.  Needless to say, my hair was a mess.  It took years to comb that shit out!

So.  Fire and Water.  Steam heat on a good day.  Sauna in hell the next.  Completely drowning is a possibility as well.

Have you ever tried fire and fire?  Yeah.  I had the brilliant idea to marry another Leo.  Talk about the blind leading the blind.  No kidding.  Every bad habit you have, latent or otherwise, will join forces in a blaze of glory.  This is when all hell breaks loose.  You don't need flood insurance.  And this pairing falls into the category of "fucking stupid."

It looks like this:

Source

I'm not well versed in any of this, but I'm capable of decent general analogies.  Air and dirt?  I'm guessing the worst case scenario is this:

Source 

Since I'm not a meteorologist, I won't attempt to elaborate on the many variations.  There's mudslides, earthquakes, tornadoes, hurricanes...yadayadayada.  It's all about control.

In a perfect world, the elements find harmony.  It looks something like this:

Source

Nice!  Not too windy.  Probably not humid.  I'd save a fortune on hairspray!

Whatever your element, BE IN IT!  Claim it, own it and share it where needed...but don't ever give it away or let anyone steal it. 

Rather simplifies the whole concept of think globally, act locally doesn't it?

Source









The Dating Game Part III: High or Low Maintenance?

"Well it sounds like Contestant number two is just overflowing with

sensitivity Sharon. It's a tough choice so far. Sharon lets have your last

question and see which one is gonna win the rights to your Neden."

Insane Clown Posse

If I ever want to get laid again, I should probably stop blogging. 

Sorry.  When you get the ball rolling with Insane Clown Posse, chances are potty mouth will be kicking it around. 

And then there's this:

The 12th-century book The Art of Courtly Love advised that "True love can have no place between husband and wife." According to one view, clandestine meetings between men and women, generally outside of marriage or before marriage, were the precursors to today's dating.

Having said that (and probably unrelated), it has recently been pointed out to me that I am too low maintenance. Lady friends are chomping at the bit to elevate me to a higher level, and I'm getting all sorts of advice on the do's and don'ts.  I told one friend that I didn't want to be too high maintenance and she immediately cut me off and said, "You should be!"

This is a conundrum.  I do not know exactly how to be high maintenance. I've made attempts, but somehow I just haven't pulled it off.  My masculine Ruby Lou energy definitely has the attitude and the sex appeal, but I think my downfall has always been Kimmy Sue...the overly intuitive part of me that sees the good in everyone, and makes excuses for everything else.  And then ultimately, just gets pissed off. 

Talk about a vicious cycle.  Self abuse anyone?

Yep, Kimmy Sue was raised to speak when spoken to and always clean her plate, no matter how bad it is. You could put a bowl of shit in front of her and she'd say, "Mmmm...shit...I love shit...can I get nuts with that?...oh, is that corn? I just love corn!"  Hell, KS will ask for seconds. The bad news is she simply must have the recipe so she can take it home and make it better, at which point she will turn it into a casserole and throw it back on the table.  On a good day, she might give you a shit biscuit to go with it.  On second thought, that might be a bad day...as in, that's probably KSRL for "getting even."

(Translation:  Codependent behavior, followed by a shit fit.)

Obviously, a big part of my evolution is a struggle to find the balance between being polite and speaking up for myself.  This could also be referred to as compassion with boundaries. 

If you are a girl raised in the south, you know exactly what I'm talking about. 

Back to compassion with boundaries.  When you miss the mark regarding compassion with boundaries, then you have anger and you have to acknowledge that anger projected is usually anger with yourself.  If the law of attraction dictates that you get what you ask for or expect, then you really can't be angry with anyone but yourself.  Forget all the bullshit you believed based on your PAST personal experience. It doesn't matter.  All that matters is what you accept for yourself right now.  I'm learning this at a faster rate than ever before.  It ain't easy let me tell you, but I am determined. 

So.  Low maintenance.  I once dated a guy for over a year and he took me out to dinner once.  Nice guy actually, but very selfish.  Now, the Kimmy Sue part of me understood why. It had nothing to do with money either.  But I accepted it.  Oddly enough, he never got a shit biscuit.  Possibly because he was the best kisser in the world, ever, to this date. At least I got something out of it. Anyway, that was one wounded little boy and all I could do was shower him with kisses and a compassionate ear.  Yet, I felt unappreciated.  After I broke up with him, he told me he loved me.  Go figure.

Somewhere in the middle was a history teacher that I dated for 2 1/2 years.  He satisfied my need for quirky conversation and we took turns buying dinners.  Truthfully, this seems fair to me.  I've never been on board with men having to pay for everything.  He also had the best butt in the world, ever, to date.  Seriously, he could be a butt model.  You know, now that I'm thinking about this experience I want to say it was a pleasant, benign break from everything.  It wasn't exactly right, but it wasn't wrong. 

I did have one really good experience with a wounded little boy.  And it gives me hope for the future because the memories remind me that it is possible to find the balance between mutual comfort (we're all wounded right?) and codependence.  We saved each other. 

I won't bore you with more stories, but here's where I mention a close friend and unofficial spiritual teacher who highlighted my tendency to attract wounded little boys like stink on shit. 

In closing, I will admit that I still haven't found the perfect balance between being polite and speaking up for myself.  It's a work in progress.  However, Ruby Lou has truly shown Kimmy Sue her balls.

So, ladies...KSRL speak for high maintenance:  if your balls are bigger than what's knocking on your door, it ain't got no business "sniffing your Neden."

By the way, this is not an angry blog.  I am grateful for everyone that has crossed my path and helped me to get where I am now.  I'm also laughing. Hey, better late than never.

And I can't tell you how much fun it is to have names for my own duality.  KSRL is but one way to evolve.  There are many, but this is my way...spiritual comedy.  Unfortunately, sometimes I nail the punchline and sometimes I don't. 

Also, (having a Leo moment here) I'm an official acronym...check it out:

http://www.acronymgeek.com/KSRL

Source

Cats In A Hot Tin Roof: Drop It Like It's Hot!

"All she wants to do is dance..."
Don Henley

If your current life finds you in Atlanta, Georgia in the vicinity of Tin Roof Cantina and you wander in on a Wednesday night, beware - you just might wake up to more than another day.

Thank God.  I discovered the Mike Veal Band on the arms of a crappy marriage that shared nothing more than a love of music and watching everyone else have fun.  We drowned our sorrows and smiled through our favorite cover songs.  I think we danced a few times, but it never felt right.

Shit happens.  And the only way to get rid of shit is to take a dump.  So, I took a big dump and moved on.  I feel much better, thank you.

But lo and behold, the universe does not revolve around me.  I'm still in shock.  You mean it isn't my job to save the world?  Really?  Well, damn.  Now what?

Fortunately and unfortunately, like attracts like.  Everyone I know is on the edge of something - trying to figure out where to go from here and looking back for clues as to what keeps getting in the way. 

I love it.  Even when it sucks.

After all, a circle of influence will never contain anything other than what you need or ask for when you need or ask for it.  It's called the law of attraction, and I am definitely attracting everything I need and, on some level, am asking for.

I'm also in the fast lane right now...desperately avoiding a familiar exit that leads to a little town called "Search and Rescue."  I've been there so many times, I could drive blindfolded and still find my way around.

I'm very good at feeling my way actually, but seeing as how I don't want to wreck my new car I recently yanked the blindfold off in hopes that I might see more clearly where I've been going. 

Whoa.  I'll be damned.  The writing on the wall.  The one that says:

STOP TRYING TO SAVE US YOU ARROGANT FUCKING MORON

SAVE YOUR OWN DAMNED SELF

WE'RE ALL JUST YANKING YOUR CHAIN ANYWAY

Ain't that some shit?  And they're right.  I've been yanked around enough and it's my own damned fault.

The next time you get pissed off because someone is yanking your chain...back it up and get real! You let them do it.

So, I'll just fix my ass on the dance floor.  I can back it up and drop it like it's hot...and if I get too low, someone I can see will pick it right back up! 

Cats in a hot tin roof are friendly like that!

KS:  Where are those damned earplugs?
RL:  Here, you can borrow mine!



Crackheads and Doormats: It's all about boundaries!

"have you lost your place?
I wore my doormat face.
I hung my this or that.
I laid my welcome mat."

R.E.M. 

A crackhead spit on my new car this morning.  Zippityfuckingdodahday!  All I did was tell him I didn't have two dollars or a sausage biscuit, unless I wanted to give him my daughter's breakfast or the money I gave her for after school.  Forgive me, but my child takes precedence.

I wasn't always so quick to say no.  Once upon a time, I wandered my stomping grounds with a big, fat sign on my forehead that said please dump your shit here and take my money and take everything while you're at it because I obviously don't need it.

Whatever the sob story was, I bought it. 

Not judging at all.  As we locked eyes through my windshield and he bestowed upon me the most hateful expression I've seen in a long time, I felt empathy for him.   Even as he bent down to hock a wad on the hood of my Honda, I felt compassion for him. Wow.  I don't care about the spit, but I will never forget that look.  He visually stated:  I HATE YOU LITTLE WHITE BITCH IN YOUR SHINY NEW CAR! 

He judged me. 

For a second, I felt guilty - until I remembered that codependence is often disguised as a bleeding heart. 

We all get lost sometimes, but I'm pretty sure we have to find ourselves.

And his anger had nothing to do with me, so I drove on and said a little prayer for that lost soul.

Source

Mirrors In a Weird Ass Nutshell

"And the wind blows up his coat and this he scribbles on a perfumed note
if I'm not here, then you're not here."
Sheryl Crow

Interesting.  I can't get the text to align left.  No matter how many times I click on align left, I am stuck in the middle.  I wouldn't call it "non-duality," but Kimmy Sue and Ruby Lou may be forced to join hands for this one.  How annoying. 

Seriously.  This is fucking annoying.

There is no beginning or end to this, only what is.  What it is is uncomfortable.  And being in the middle is probably the most comfortable place to be, but it could also be said that truth resides there...which isn't necessarily comfortable.

Am I cocky?  To a degree, yes.  Am I cryptic?  Sure, but it comes naturally.  I love a good blues song for these very reasons.  To be honest, I have always preferred naughty innuendo to the vulgarity that you hear in some forms of music today.  I'll take Bessie Smith over Missy Elliot any day.

Not dissin' Missy.  She has a few choice words that put a grin on my face! 

I'm also as scared, insecure and confused as any other soul forced to land on this crazy, forsaken planet.  Some of us are just better at hiding from this.  Not that there's anything wrong with that.  We are all on a path unique to who we are and where we're at in terms of what we're ready to evolve.
 

No one escapes this life unharmed, but everyone has the potential to break through the walls that harm builds.  It's a process.  Choose your method.  And, most importantly, don't back down.  Grab the biggest sledge hammer you can find and knock the holy fucking hell out of that wall. 

(On the off chance that saying holy and fucking in the same sentence is a mortal sin, I am forgiven.  I was baptized in South Carolina, which means I can do whatever I want and Jesus will still open the door and let me in.  I'm so glad I'm not Catholic...purgatory does not appeal to me.)

In the manner of "controlled chaos," I'm going to jump to the subject of meditation. Loosely. Years ago, I had the unusual experience of meditating with a very tall, very androgynous Irish woman named Johanne. I have an annoying habit of seeing faces when meditating with another, and this was no exception. At the end of our session, she asked me what I saw. Well, I saw a series of faces "in the mirror."  The only face I was compelled to mention was that of a very evil looking man.  I told her I thought it was something I saw in her. 

And then she asked me a very poignant question:  "How do you know it wasn't you?"

In a nutshell, we have all been victims and we have all been perpetrators.  From that perspective,
how can you judge anyone or anything? 

You can't. You shouldn't. It's wrong.

Judgment may very well be the only wrong there is.

The only thing that is right is forgiveness. 

And without forgiveness...the wall remains.

So, I'm cocky enough to put myself out there in crazy and embarrassing ways...but that's okay.  We all have a purpose. And if my cockiness and craziness resonates with you, amen.  Believe me when I say that the only pain more unbearable than my own...is yours. 

Source

The Dating Game Part II: What DOES single mean?

"No I don't need another half to make me whole."

- Natasha Bedingfield

"Interestingly, snakes shed their old skin when their new skin is formed beneath it. The new skin has the same patterns and colors as the old skin that is ready for shedding. When the old skin is shed, however, it doesn’t look exactly the same as its replacement. It takes on a nearly transparent appearance."

I'm not a big fan of snakes, but I find it interesting that when they shed their skin the process is called "going into the blue."  I love blues music.  No correlation whatsoever, I'm sure.

And if this blog was a song, the bridge would be out of order.  But that's okay.  Not everything has to make sense.

Kimmy Sue's taking a break and since Ruby Lou doesn't think too much, this post will be a breeze. 

The response to Part I has been very interesting.  I guess since the institution of marriage has been turned upside down and kicked to the curb, more people are back on the market and shopping for non-traditional alternatives.  Although I do have one friend who makes no bones about the fact that she wants to get married again.  We all want what we want.  And whatever that is, we should just be honest about it.

Isa, a fabulous new female friend that I like to refer to as "the cupcake lady", suggests I forego thrift stores in favor of Saks.  Sorry Isa...no can do.  This girl has never set foot in Saks, and probably never will.  I personally think a special kind of stupid is required to pay $80 for a pair of jeans when you can get a perfectly good pair at a thrift store for $5.  But I get your point. 

I don't need to wax poetic on this subject. 

Part I is all the time we spend letting the past get in the way of the present and, in turn, predict the future.

Part II is where you just don't worry about it.

I could erase every bad day of my life (and don't we all wish we could do that?) and I still wouldn't be a shopper.  It's not that I don't care.  I simply see no point in spending money on something that I don't need.

However, if I'm browsing through the "hand me downs" and catch a glimpse of something interesting...I will try it on.  And if it fits, I'll buy it.

But, if you're a shopper...good for you.  Go for it!  I love hearing your stories. 

Now if you'll excuse me, there's a really tough piece of skin that needs shedding.  It seems to be stuck around my ass. 

Source

The Dating Game: Who's in charge?

"We can dance, we can dance, everybody takin' the cha-a-a-ance...is it safe to dance?"

- Men In Hats

So the subject of dating has come up.  Damn.  There is nothing in this world that makes me more uncomfortable.  I'd rather stick toothpicks in my eyeballs than do what a lot of my friends do...advertise and shop.

I didn't realize until recently just how much I've avoided that whole process, in one way or another.  At a rather young age, the balance between trust and caution tipped the scales in favor of self preservation. 

And I'm not the lone ranger here.  Life is hard sometimes.  At any given point in time, we are a culmination of everything that has gone before.  If we're smart, we learn from it...and let it go.  If we're stupid, we get stuck.

I am stupid.  I've been married three times for all the wrong reasons...and without really meaning to.  It just happened.  And there was love, or something damned near like it, in the safest place to be - off the market. Gotta hide somewhere, right?  And we all hide from something...mainly, ourselves.  Or maybe it's just me.  Maybe I'm the only idiot on planet earth.  I highly doubt it, but it's possible.

Fortunately, I have a saving grace or two - a very deep sense of humor and a strong connection to "spirit."  I am very grateful for these attributes.  They allow me to laugh at myself and understand that from a big picture perspective, none of this really matters.

However, here we are.  On planet earth.  Human.  Admittedly, I've had some "out of this world" experiences in meditation and, on occasion, in my growing energy healing practice.  I don't see people so much as I feel them. As a result, my circle of influence has shifted quite a bit the past few years.  So now, at least, I know I'm not alone in that respect.  Thank God...or, whoever is in charge.

However, here I am.  On planet earth.  Human.  Luckily, the past few years of my life found me in exactly the right place at exactly the right time.  I unloaded thirty years worth of anger that I could no longer run away from.  Now that I'm "clear" of that, I'm left with the only thing to be found beneath any mask of anger.  Fear.  Double damn.  I may not be angry, but I still suck at being vulnerable. 

Which brings me back to dating.  Double doody damn. Where are those toothpicks?

Alright.  Kimmy Sue's gonna shift gears and give Ruby Lou a chance to run with reality and bring it down to earth.  (Or maybe it's the other way around?)

Why do people date? 

Well, I think it's safe to say that as human beings we all share a very basic human fear of dying alone.  It's normal.  As independent as I have always been, I can honestly admit that the thought of dying alone doesn't appeal to me either.  I'm pretty sure we all would like to know that in the end someone will be there...someone who cares enough about our stupid ass to call 911 when we fall and can't get up, or feed us when we can no longer feed ourselves.  That's what it really comes down to isn't it?

But...how to get there?  That is a question that seems to be forgetting the answer more often than not.  Especially today, with divorce rates being what they are.  I personally think marriage and divorce should be eliminated from the relationship dictionary.  The only thing you should ever have to sign for is a loan.  And a loan is something you borrow.  Just saying.

Either my gear shift is sticking, or Kimmy Sue and Ruby Lou are on the same page today.  Lucky you.  Ruby Lou swears way too much.

Where was I?

So, I've got friends trying to "fix me up."  I'm not quite ready for that, but for now I am rethinking my methods.  Mainly, I don't have any.  It's just not in me to "shop."  Should I?  That is so strange to me.  I don't even like to shop for clothes.  I run to the thrift store when I need to replenish my supply of denim and occasionally find a dress that I like, but I'm just not a Mall person.  Ugh.

Years ago I had a boss who pushed me to try an internet dating site.  "Oh, you have to try it!  It's fun!"  So I tried it and it was completely stupid.  I understand it works for some people but, for me, it felt too much like applying for a job.  I had a job.  I have one now.  Anyway, my five day adventure yielded 3 therapists (the humor did not escape me) and a 19-year old who lived in Scotland.  I have nothing against long distance relationships (never mind the fact that I was 38), but I didn't have enough frequent flyer miles for that.  Actually, I didn't (and don't) have any...I'm pretty sure you have to fly in order to accumulate those. 

With the exception of a few wild years in my 20's, I just haven't dated that much.  So it's easy to remember a friend who pushes you to meet someone.  I was so resistant at the time that she invited me to dinner one night...and two of her co-workers showed up.  This friend really wanted me to hook up with this one particular guy, but seeing as how I don't really like being told what to do I dated the other guy instead.  I heard through the grapevine that the guy she wanted me to hook up with "came out of the closet" not long ago.

I ain't too stupid.

Right now I'm simply enjoying the adventures of my best friend.  She is a shopper.  She's been on more dates than anyone I know and she's gotten really good at it too.  She even had a date with a man of an ethnic origin that I will not mention, but let's say the culture is very much about "the resume'."  He very meticulously rattled off all his qualifications over dinner and later, in the car, zipped down his pants to show her his penis. He wasn't a pervert getting ready to attack, he was seriously presenting himself.  I am not making this up!  It's one of her better stories...and the reason I prefer not to shop.

I do like men, they just make me nauseous.  I'll get over it.

For now, I'm content.  I have work that I love and daughters who remind me that life is unpredictable, a little crazy, but altogether worthwhile. 

Even if you're single.