I’m Fine. Why Do You Ask?

I’m currently sitting at work, waiting for a call from my mechanic, to tell me what’s wrong with my car and how much repairs are going to cost. Again.

I don’t think I trust this mechanic. His hands are too clean.

I’m not exactly surprised – the car is 17 years old, and shit happens when your car is practically old enough to vote. This, of course, doesn’t make it any more pleasant to shell out a ton of money on what-the-fuck-ever is jacked up THIS time.

So why not get another car? I hear you asking.

Well, that brings us to last night, and me sobbing, uncontrollably, to Jay.

See, I’m in my mid-40s, and I have never, even once in my life, decided on a car I’d like to have and then went and bought it. Every vehicle I have ever owned or driven, including the current one, has been the result of taking what I could get at the time.

A while back, though, I made up my mind that I was going to set up a plan, and I was
getting what I really wanted next time.

Since the age of 16, I have really, really wanted a Jeep. Originally, my teenage heart was set on a Wrangler, but adult me has decided on a Patriot.

No, Sam. Just… no.

With all the redesigns Jeeps have had, most of the lineup looks like every other SUV on the road these days, and the Wrangler and Patriot are pretty much the only ones left that still look like Jeeps, but the Patriot is about half the price.

And I do NOT want a $500 a month car payment.

Just writing that makes me shudder.

Anyway, plan is in place, and things are trucking along in the right direction. Until a couple days ago, when I’ve suddenly got a rough idle out of nowhere, in the aforementioned 17-year-old Saturn, and we come to the conclusion last night that yeah, we have to get this checked out.

And since my brain hates me, it set up a lovely anxiety spiral, where in a
matter of minutes I had myself convinced the repair was going to be way more than we can afford, which means getting rid of the car and finding something else before we’re ready, which means getting what I actually want for the first time in my life is out the window, which lead to the aforementioned hysterical crying, while I told Jay I am never going to have anything and I was stupid and selfish for ever thinking otherwise.

So that was dramatic. (ummmm… yeah? xoxo Dissy)

Thank the Goddess I have Jay, and he has figured out how to talk me through moments like these.

Don’t get me wrong… my mechanic is a great guy. He’s fair, honest, and has never charged me more than what was reasonable for whatever needed to be done. My car just likes to break in the most expensive ways it can think of.

So here I sit, doing the same things I do every workday and waiting for the phone
to ring.

ugh.

BARBARA:

STOP it. We just did all that yoga. Find your peace, sista.

XOXO,
Dissy

Until Next Time…

P.S. Just so you all know, Barb’s car repairs were reasonable, and she is able to keep on track to her goals. She is not going to die of a heart attack, but she may give herself an ulcer, and she needs to chill. ❤

Cent’anni Bitches!

Witchy Wednesday: Take 12

DISCLAIMER: This blog post is going to wade into some touchy subjects, specifically politics and religious based discrimination. If you don’t want to read about that kind of thing, we totally get it. (not me (Dissy) I don’t get it at all. I read plenty from all sides. You can put up with this blog for the 10 minutes it will take you to read it.)

As most of us are already aware, evangelical christians have been flooding the court system for a number of years doing everything they can think of to dismantle civil rights protections for, well, anyone who isn’t them.

Which is why this headline caught my interest:

The fight over whether religion is a license to discriminate is back before the Supreme Court

Now I’m fully aware of clickbait, so I did what any reasonable person would do, and started researching.

What I found out scares the shit out of me.

To cut things down to the barest bones, the city of Philadelphia does not grant taxpayer money to any organization that doesn’t follow antidiscrimination laws. Period. So, an evangelical adoption agency is suing them, because they want to flout the law and
still get paid.

And the Supreme Court just agreed to hear the case.

There are two main reasons this makes me worry.

First, the large Evangelical groups that are funding these lawsuits have openly bragged that attacking the LGBT community is only the tip of the iceberg. Their ultimate goal is to have it codified into law that evangelicals (and ONLY evangelicals) hold a position in this country of absolute power, where they can literally do anything they want.

The second reason is because with what has happened to the Supreme Court in the last few years, they may get away with it.

Ever since the grossly unqualified “Justice” Kegstand was installed, he has made no secret about how excited he is to get his grubby hands in there and start ripping away basic human rights from women, people of color, the LGBT community, non-christians, and pretty much everyone who isn’t a white, male evangelical.

And we no longer have enough members of the court willing to serve as a firewall against
the most extreme among us.

I’m horrified that my LGBT brothers and sisters continue to have their very existence debated, and, selfishly, I’m also concerned about the risks to my distinctly not christian family. Does my marriage get erased?

Do I lose my kid?

Where does it end?

Okay Dissy, your turn to let me know why I’m being a fucking lunatic again…

Okay, Barb, to start, in OUR blog, words like “christian” and “evangelical” do not get proper noun status. It simply isn’t done here.

This whole thing reminds me of an episode of that show on Hulu where the women wear the bonnets. What the hell is it called?

I really hope that there are enough people in positions of power, on that side of things, who see that freedom of religion means all religions, and not just that religion. I mean, I do know some conservatives who see this for the hogwash it would be. In fact, I know quite a few. Hopefully, when push comes to shove, they rise up as well.

We shall see…

Until then:

Cent’anni Witches!

Monday Musings With Dissy: episode 9

As you all know, I turned the big 5-0 a couple of weeks ago. So far, it’s been a pretty good experience for me. I’ve heard a lot of people say the same thing, women in particular, that turning 50 is liberating.

My only problem with it is that I can’t remember shit anymore.

I guess I really can’t blame the age thing for that, though, because it’s been going on for a while now. No matter how many times I read that this is perfectly normal for “women my age,” it bugs the ever-loving shit out of me.

My point in griping about this is that I come up with about 80 billion (yes, BILLION) brilliant ideas for improving humanity on a daily basis. How many do I ever remember? zero.

This dude looks more like a donut.

What I do see on my facetyspace feed today, (that I feel has about a zero percent chance of improving humanity (that’s just IMN-S-HO, though.) is that there’s a thing out there called “rage yoga.” Let’s learn a little about “rage yoga” before we judge it, shall we?

“Tired of feeling “really out of place” in traditional yoga classes?” No. No I’m not. Why? Because I haven’t. I’m not sure there ever has been a “stick up their ass” yoga school like you describe in your ad. At least not in Northeast Ohio, anyhow, and I’ve taken classes in a Hindu temple, what I’d term “soccer mom yoga studios”, my own living room floor, community classes held in parks, and tiny schools set up on the wrong side of the tracks. They ALL share a common theme of being welcoming, helpful, and non-judgmental.

Yoga, for me, is very much about the peace and quiet, as it is for everyone else who is there. No one there cares what you look like in your yoga pants and tank top. No one cares that you need modifications. No one cares. If you feel judged, maybe it is you judging yourself.

The “alcohol-filled” description in the title of the article I read is also concerning. Not gonna lie… I’ve done yoga before after having drank a few beers. I also ended up with Wonder Woman complex, tried to go WAY too far, and hurt myself as a result. Booze and any kind of exercise (and, yes, yoga is a physical activity and is a form of exercise) at the same time is not a combination I would recommend.

Now, I’m always down for profanity (another thing mentioned). I’m pretty sure that I’ve whispered “shit” a time or two during my practice. And guess what? NO ONE CARED!!!

Judge Judy even thinks it’s bullshit.

But seriously? This is a thing? I mean, any kind of exercise can break frustration, anger, and aggression. This seems, to me, like something someone made up because they want to “mean girl” something they thought they experienced one time at a soccer mom school.

Get over yourself.

Now… I have to go cook up some plans for the rest of this week’s blogs.

I’ll come up with some great shit, and I’m sure Barb will too. Then, we will both forget them. But she will write hers down, so she’ll be good to go. Not me, though.

Cent’anni, Bitches!

WTF Friday: vol. 11

Google is your friend.

Today’s dose of WTF Friday is not pertaining to any kind of news item. Today, it is a legitimate question that has been trying Dissy’s patience for years.

Why does the general population seem to be utterly in-fucking-capable of finding something out for themselves?

I can see maybe wanting a referral or a recommendation from a friend and putting that question out there on the internet, but some of this shit? It would probably be a lot quicker to get an answer if you sent smoke signals across the valley to a neighboring tribe than it is to sit around waiting for your random friends to contribute to that facebook post you made asking how to restart your fitbit*.

Or… a better idea than slamming it into oblivion with a hammer like your third grade unreciprocated crush suggested, maybe try:

Google?
The instructions that came with the fitbit?
YouTube?

So, Barb, why in the hell do YOU think people do this?

I’m thinking it’s either laziness, attention seeking, or some combination of the two.
I feel like the same people constantly posting on Facebook looking for advice on the best ass wiping techniques are the same ones who are incapable of sneezing without posting it.

And I get it, social media wouldn’t be particularly social if no one posted about their lives. But I can’t be the only one tired of seeing a photo montage every time certain people walk from the living room to the kitchen. (maybe we should throw a couch at them).

Also, recently I’m noticing a major opposition to looking things up and doing your own research. People want everything spoon fed to them. And it has to be what they want to hear, or the shit hits the fan.

Or maybe I’m just a cranky jerk today, who knows 😉

But, we’ve gotta go for now. Dissy just sneezed.

*fitbit is only an example. It could really be anything.

Cent’anni, Bitches!

Witchy Wednesday: Take 11

Batten down the hatches!! She’s here!!

Mercury Retrograde is here. Again. Sometimes it feels like Mercury forgets how to move forward normally, no sooner do we get out of one retrograde than it starts again. So, what does this actually mean, and why do we dread it so much? We’re about to tell you!

Barb –

Mercury rules over communication, so logically during retrograde that’s what gets totally screwed. And when communication goes bad, just about everything else does too, since clear communication is the foundation for anything we do.

Conventional wisdom holds that we should avoid major decisions and commitments during this time. No big purchases, accepting new jobs, signing contracts, and so on. Unfortunately, life doesn’t always work out that way, and sometimes you gotta do what you’ve gotta do. So how to avoid the gremlins messing everything up?

Firstly, I firmly believe a lot of the issues boil down to a self-fulfilling prophecy. You think everything is going to go haywire, so it does because every problem, no matter what it is, gets chalked up to retrograde. Take a deep breath and remember the first rule of being a person:

Shit happens.

Secondly, as with any other time, slow down and make sure you’re being clear in your own communications, and you fully understand what’s being communicated to you by others. A hefty chunk of life’s messiness comes from being in too much of a hurry to actually read that contract you’re signing, or double check that text message before you hit “send”, regardless of any astrological situations.

Being more aware will make your life easier every day of the year.

Dissy –

It’s funny. This retro started on the 16th, and I sat here and watched it explode on facebook.

I actually caught myself thinking, at some point this past month, that people were maybe calming down a smidge. I hadn’t seen anyone tell one of their family members or dear friends that they deserved to die a horrible death after watching their children get eaten by vultures just because he or she is for/against the orange man in the white house.

Then? February 16th hits. I see someone post something that, in my mind, couldn’t be more clear. “it sure is a beautiful day,” or something like that. Along comes someone else to go on an hour long tirade about how the person is a commie ass-licker who probably doesn’t vaccinate their kids.

What the shit, people?

I see retro as being similar to a full moon, only over a longer period of time. There’s an undeniable shift in energy, and, if you aren’t aware, you won’t know how to handle it, and it will fuck with you.

Personally, I like to look at Mercury retrograde as an opportunity to practice flexibility and patience. Old life themes have ways of popping back up, and, sometimes, that opportunity for a do-over is quite beneficial. Other times? not so much. Try to remember than an ex is an ex for a reason, and you really don’t need to tell him or her what a flaming pile of donkey shit he or she is that one last time.

Unless you enjoy chaos. If so? Have at it.

From what I’ve read, too, it depends on where we are in the zodiac during the retrograde. This Mercury retrograde is in Aquarius and Pisces. The Aquarius aspect could indicate petty squabbles and harsh words in friendships and romantic relationships. The Pisces aspect indicates that you may experience a tendency to fantasize or engage in daydreaming more than normal. This makes it a good time to persue creative endeavors.

Any way you slice the pie, just remember to breathe. Work on that patience and flexibility, and allow yourselves extra time for travel.

Cent’anni, Bitches!

WTF Friday: vol. 10

In my meanderings amongst the interwebz today, I came across a little blurb about White Castle doing Valentine’s Day dinners. Yep, that White Castle. The one known for suspiciously cheap mini burgers.

“honey, I’ve made reservations for us!”

Apparently, some locations have a whole setup with tableside service, flowers, and candlelight. And honestly? As silly as it sounds, I think it’s kind of cute. After all, if you read yesterday’s post (you DID read it, didn’t you? 😉) you know a big part of my dislike for today stems from the expectations. A low key “let’s get burgers and eat them by candlelight” date actually sounds like it would be fun.

Obviously, it’s not for everyone, if your partner is expecting something fancy, they probably aren’t going to be very happy with White Castle. Having said that, I think it’s a good option for people who are either unable or unwilling to spend an assload of money who still want to mark the occasion somehow.

What do you think Dissy?

Well, I am devastated to hear of this.

Why?

BECAUSE WHITE CASTLE HAS ABANDONED NORTHEAST OHIO!!!

Over on W. 117th street, there are the remains of a White Castle that is the first one I ever visited. Back in the stone age, or, 1980-something or other. It was at least ’85 because some of us in my crew could drive.

One evening, Mark, Danny, and I decided to set out on a road trip to find this White Castle and check out these burgers we had been hearing about. If I’m not mistaken, I’m pretty sure Danny is the one who first heard of it in some rap song.

Teen-aged Dissy.

I’m pretty sure, too, that this was the first time we had all ventured out of the Akron area without a “responsible” person with us. Not that we ever actually had “responsible” people with us.

Anyhow, I digress. Lucky for us that gas was so inexpensive back then because we ended up coming up to the Castle at every opportunity. Two cheeseburgers and an order of deep fried clams is (or would be), to this day, my standard order.

In 1987, they finally brought one to Akron (Cuyahoga Falls, really), and, lucky for me, it was in the same plaza that I worked in. Lunch anyone? For as inexpensive as they were, I sure did spend an ungodly amount of money there.

So, if there was still a White Castle around here, I would beg for a date to take me there for Valentine’s Day. I would rather have White Castle to spark romance than anything fancy or contrived. I’m not sure I could be more in love with this idea if I tried.

I’d say if you want to know whether your love is true or not, you really should take him or her on a White Castle Valentine’s Day date. If they look at you like you’re the lowest piece of shit in the known universe, dump ’em. If they look at you like you are the best thing since the invention of cheese, keep ’em.

Make sure, though, that you hurry home for other types of fun before White Castle works the other kind of magic they are known for…

Cent’anni, Bitches!!

Why I Hate Valentine’s Day

Maybe hate is too strong a word, but “Why I find Valentine’s Day irritating and ignore it as much as humanly possible” seemed way too long for a title.

I’m sure some of you are looking forward to tomorrow, and that’s fine. Definitely not judging anyone who enjoys Valentine’s Day. I just don’t happen to be one of them.

When I was a kid back in the 80s, we would give out the little cartoon cards every year, but back then there was no “everyone or no one” rule to avoid hurt feelings. You got cards from your friends, and that was it. So, it turned into more of a popularity contest, where your value as a person corresponded directly to how many of those cheapo Rainbow Brite and Care Bears wound up in your shoebox.

Fast forward to high school, and the school would sell these carnations that you could have delivered to your friend, boy/girlfriend, crush, or whatever. Again, the popular kids would be walking around with whole bouquets while the rest of us got one, if we were lucky.

It would be reasonable to assume once I started dating The Ex, in my junior year, things would get better and the day would no longer suck. Unfortunately, that’s not what happened. Every holiday was a Big Fucking Deal with him in the worst possible way.

I figured out after a while that every holiday was a minefield, and it wasn’t a matter of if he would blow up, but when and how many times. Nothing I did was good enough, and it was never going to be. No matter what gifts I got him, how carefully selected,
or how much I spent it wasn’t enough.

You would also be forgiven for thinking he must go way over the top with the gifts he got me, since his standards were stratospherically high. He did not. While I was
getting screamed at for the unacceptable nature and number of things I did for him, I was also getting screamed at for my ingratitude because I wasn’t gushing enough over the cartoon panties he couldn’t even be bothered to wrap.

There are no words to describe the level of relief I felt when Jay and I got together, and he said he had no interest in Valentine’s Day. When tomorrow rolls around, we’ll be doing the exact same thing we would on any normal Friday, and I’m thrilled.

He never leaves the house without giving me a kiss goodbye and telling me he loves me. If he sees something I might like, he just gets it, regardless of whether or not a Gift Giving Occasion is coming up. And I do the same for him.

I have no interest in waiting three hours for a table to eat out somewhere. I
don’t want overpriced flowers that will be dead in two days. And I absolutely don’t want my marriage being defined by a specific date on the calendar. As Jay said years ago, “I don’t need a designated holiday to demonstrate that I love you.”

I dunno… if someone gave me this bear, I’d probably have to marry him.

So, if you have plans to do All the Things tomorrow, because it matters to you, I hope you have a wonderful time and everything goes how you’re imagining it. As for me, I’ll be on the couch in pajamas watching tv with my love.

Until next time…

Cent’Anni Bitches!

Witchy Wednesday: Take 10

What is a “book of shadows”? Do you keep one, and what do you put in it?

A book of shadows is a book that Witches use to document spell work, rituals, recipes for potions, and, really, any information the witch feels is useful to his or her practice. Some witches make their own book of shadows, some buy a blank journal, and still others have made the leap into the age of technology, and they record all their information on a computer.

I use a simple, black, blank journal. I have tried, and I seriously lack the talent to make an actual book. Now, you can also buy a pre-made blank book of shadows that is made to look all “other worldly” right in your local witchy shop. I went the very basic route and got mine at Target. Four dollars on clearance made me happier than a pre-made fifty dollar book that wasn’t exactly what I wanted. I can decorate this one any way I choose, or I can leave it with just the black cover it came with.

In mine, I record rituals I create, I make notes about rituals I attend that someone else created, I stick odd things within the book’s pages, like a slip of paper someone wrote instructions on for a ritual or spell, I write about important messages received in either a dream or a reading, and I write about special times that resonate with my witchy soul, for example, I documented the time that Barb and I encountered ghostly activity at a cemetery.

If you’re in a coven, each individual witch may have his or her own book, and there will likely be a coven book. Responsibility for the coven book is usually given to the priest or priestess.

One thing Barb and I did was we started a book of shadow for her daughter to give her as a thirteenth birthday gift. We included all the 101 basics Barb refers to below, and we left plenty of space for her to make it her own.

At the end of the day, your book of shadows is every bit as personal as the rest of your craft. It is not required to be any one thing or another.

How about you, Barb? What are your thoughts and practices regarding a book of shadows?

I handle my book of shadows pretty similarly.

At first, I had bits and pieces scattered through several notebooks, but, as you know, disorder makes me twitchy, so I got an inexpensive, blank book and started putting things together.

Unfortunately, there are some things from my earliest witchy days that have been lost, so it’s not a complete record. I have rituals, notes about various experiences, some drawings that I felt needed to be included, and small souvenirs.

I also feel like it’s a good idea to put a “101 section” in the front, with basic things like correspondences and holidays. You’d be surprised how often something simple like what colors go with the East slide right out of your head.

Other than that, go forth and create whatever kind of book speaks to you. It’s almost impossible to screw it up, and besides, worst case scenario you can start over.

Cent’anni, Bitches!

Monday Musings With Dissy: episode 7

My cup runneth over…

Today, I got a package delivered from Amazon. It was a birthday gift from my son. He told me to expect it then said, “it’s not much, but I hope you like it.”

What he doesn’t know is how badly I wanted it and how hard it was to add it to my wish list without just buying it myself. He doesn’t know how I have had the exact perfect spot chosen for it since I laid eyes on it.

In this picture, I see a thousand or more wishes, and most of them are for him.

This is going to be a big laundry week for me. I have to wash my blankets. They are starting to smell like my sweet Daisy-Lou. It’s all good, though. I have a loving, faithful companion who loves to cuddle up next to me at bedtime.

I think the back and forth in my mind these days is a result of attempting a better path, of making the choice for joy or, if I can’t quite muster up “joy,” then happiness, contentment, and gratitude suffice.

I put some feelings out there on my personal blog yesterday. I think that’s partially the cause of my feeling so good right now. Throwing the thoughs out of my head and into the blogosphere serves to purge my mind and to potentially be information to which another lost soul can relate, and, as a result, maybe not feel so alone. This, I now see, is my mission, should I choose to accept it.

And I do. I do accept this mission. No more basic or boring blogs from me.

Have a wonderful week!

Cent’anni, Bitches!