A glimpse of the future

I met a man at my first Beltane celebration who was introduced to me as a clairvoyant, and from all accounts an extremely accurate one. After listening to a conversation I was having with another girl there about how many deja vu dreams we have, even though we don't remember them until they happen, he told us both that by the time we were in our forties, we would be reading people. I've always had a desire to study Tarot, but lack the self-confidence to try. He said that practice was not the important thing; it is trust in your ability. I wonder.

Karma

The plan was simple - drive to Mississippi, pick up my Jazz Fest buddy, go to New Orleans, and have a great time. Unfortunately, simple plans are the most easily fucked up.

Let me first say I'm not in any way angry or upset by the way today turned out. The universe has a way of making itself heard, and when it does, you listen.

After arriving in NO and finding a sweet parking spot right by the fairgrounds, we cabbed it down to the French Quarter for some sightseeing and biegnets. We actually made into Cafe du Monde, but then...the phone rang. In hindsight, I should have known what was coming. I am rather blind to the world around me sometimes.

Let me digress. Jazz Fest, and all the accompanied plans, happened to come just after said friend's dad came off chemo. Having checked with dad on whether or not it was okay for him to go, he decided to go, since we would be back that same day.

So, phone call. Dad says he's dying, and is asking for his son. It's time for him to go home. He wants me to come back to the Fest and have a good time, and considering the situation, I know I'll be better off doing just that. On the way back, my concentration wavers long enough for me to almost run someone off the road changing lanes. That's going to come back to haunt me, I know. I manage to find a parking spot not far from the one I had, and in to the Fest I go. It's now 2:30, and I've got plenty of time to catch Bob Dylan! The crowd is ridiculous, but at least I find a spot by the speakers. I called Chris so he could at least hear the show (a good 40 minutes of it at least), and eventually I wander off to find some food. Mmm, gumbo! Wander, wander, wander, look at booths, wander, and finally over to Heritage Square. I got Mom a Mother's Day gift, and myself some long-awaited biegnets. 6:30, and it's time for me to head home.

Karma. I love it. I get back to my car, and what's that on the windshield? Yes, that's right. A parking ticket. Guess I wasn't supposed to park that close to the intersection. But if that's the only bad karma I had to incur for my lapse on the road, I consider it fair trade. I come back to my friend's house to find Dad still alive, although by all reports he doesn't want to be anymore.

I hate the fact that we are not allowed to choose when we want to die. I understand the initial reasoning behind the law, but I also believe that since those reasons are primarily religious in nature, they should not be law over everyone, because not everyone believes. He knows what's coming, and he's ready for it. But hey, who am I to play God?

Got to admit, it's getting better

I hate sunburn.

6 days. It's been 6 days, and parts of me are still purple. Today I finally managed to get around work for my entire five-hour shift without lurching like a drunken sailor. Two days ago, it took me 10 minutes just to get my pants on. If things continue this way, I just might be able to get through Jazz Fest without a hitch. I guess I'll know on Friday.

Jazz Fest is my current "event to look forward to". Following that will be Bonnaroo in June, my birthday (and possibly a Black Crowes concert) in early July, and Chris's birthday/last day in Hell (er, Florida) on July 28. After that, who knows? We can't move in to our house until Aug 1. There's a possible trip to Savannah in the works for that weekend, which I hope we can swing. I've always wanted to see Savannah.

Why is it that even though every day is exactly the same length as the next (give or take a few seconds), the days leading up to any big event always seem to stretch out interminably long?

The March of War

This is really about why guns suck nowadays, but I realized it could be counted for more than that...I just had to get it out.

You are cowards; you have no honor.
You shoot at one onother from the shadows,
slinking like dogs, hiding like soldiers.
What of the days of noble war?
What of the sword and the lance?
No longer a game of skill, yours is a peformance
of attitude: Who wants to die today? Not me.
No longer do you wish to see the eyes of the man you bring down.
Perhaps it helps you think your soul is not damned with his.
No longer do you duel for what is right, but what is small.
A careless word, an imagined insult.
No longer do you stand on the side of good.
Now the good guys are hunting you down.