Miércoles con los Amigos Invisibles vol 1.

john the revelator tell me who's that writin'
john the revelator tell me who's that writin'
john the revelator wrote the book on the seven seals

-White Stripes

Talked to Myke yesterday.
All is actually well on that front. Seems I would really rather be friends with him after all than not. I just have to learn to be better at setting boundaries in re: the use of my time. And he's not mad at me or depressed about it or any of that crap. We just talked about sci-fi and TV for like...an hour. Aye. If I can get the kid to do his conversing in half-hour blocks, that'll be something!

I woke up this morning with a clear conscience and I'm not sure what to do with it. Universe gave me a hint. I'd just put my shiny new dayplanner in my bag, figuring now that I've resolved the Myke issue and removed that source of conflict from my mind I want to be ready to do consecratey things whenever the moment is appropriate. And as I stood up my bag tipped over somehow and all the junk in the bottom started to slide out onto the floor. "Noo!" I said and hurried to keep it from falling out.

"You need to get rid of some of that baggage you're carrying around all the time," is what the universe was saying. "Look how much of it is junk you ought to have thrown away long ago!" I ended up pitching some, piling some on the couch-and-a-half to sort through later, and shoving the rest into my bag because it was easier that way. I also noticed a bunch of crap on the bottom of my bag that hadn't even been dislodged when the smaller junk fell out.

Yes, I do and did see symbolism in all that. Dammit.

See, this is the thing about the magical life. Or whatever you want to call it. A philosophy or religion or system that encourages you to look at each incident in your life as pregnant with meaning, an interpretable sign. Tact, good humor and a healthy slice of not taking myself too seriously are how I keep from going nuts with it and losing the ability to live at all because I'm too busy noticing things. Those are qualities I wish I'd had as a kid! I like thinking of it as "magic" rather than "God speaking to me" because that makes me a little smaller. The universe is not a puppet show put on to morally edify me. These things that happen that I interpret, these sorts of things happen to everybody--only everybody doesn't interpret them. That's really the only difference.

Much, much has happened since my last post. Hopefully I'll remember enough of it to post up more later today. I'm meeting (hopefully) Clarissa after work, and me and Dave are (hopefully) going to see Lucky Boy's Confusion with Meg on Saturday. Dave bought the Simpsons movie last night and we watched it. (with hilarious results! wait, the movie was hilarious as always, the results of watching it merely pleasant.) He's half-expecting to get another one from somebody for Xmas, in which case he'll send the one he bought to Big Dave who will likely enjoy it.

Le sigh. There are many cool things about my dad, many cool qualities possessed by no other dad. But I wish he could enjoy the freakin Simpsons! And other things that people like when they are relaxed and not taking things seriously! Someone with his extensive experience of the other side of reality should not be so bound up tight about his material circumstances that he can't have any fun!

Have I mentioned lately that Dave is awesome and makes me happy? We've been talking more lately, not about anything in particular, just like talk is percolating in through the weave of our normal routine. I find it hard to write about which is oddly enough a good sign; there is some magical thing, some perspective on reality and how we relate to it, that we are sharing in a new way than before.

[interlude; Bossman shows up, we don't do bills, he has to leave again. denied for now!]

I realized when I came back to edit and update that today is Wednesday and hence this can't be Tuesdays With Abhorrent Fiends. So I decided to call it Wednesdays with Invisible Friends, only in Spanish because it sounds cooler. Isn't Miércoles cooler-sounding than Wednesday? I wonder where it comes from. I know Wednesday is named for Odin aka Wodin aka the Norse Zeus: Wodin's Day. Like Friday is Freya's Day. I'm not actually sure about Tuesday.

I finished To Say Nothing of the Dog, and liked it so much that I got it for Myke as an Xmas present. (Shh! Don't tell him!) He's been reading more Gibson. And recently wrote an awesome horror story called Daisychains which he ended up telling me the entire plot, scene by scene, on the phone yesterday. And then apologized all over himself for blathering. And I thought to myself, This, this is why I didn't think I had room in my life for this friend. Because if I work eight and a half hours a day, more or less, take buses another hour, sleep six and a half hours, that leaves only eight hours to do other stuff. I know, I know, my schedule is a lot less hectic than some (Pearl, for example!) but I still have to be watchful.

Here I am procrastinating by blogging. Grr. Back to work, you!