Friday, November 16, 2012


In the midst of trying to get a lesson scheduled today (she turned out to be a sweet grandmotherly lady who loves horses), the Good Barn Owner told me she's already bumping up my pay per lesson to only $5 less than I was making at the Bad Barn.

It's still not enough to keep me from having to take a day job, but it's something. It's something, the Gods be praised and thanked.

Wherein The Dropout Dilettante Hits A Little Close To Home With Her Last Post.

As you may well know, I love Deb, the Dropout Dilettante, at Charmed, I'm Sure. In her most recent post, her Muse says the following: 

"How could you possibly think that you would be okay dropping dead in your cubicle with nothing accomplished, nothing finished? How could you ever think that you would be okay living your life in a cubicle again? And still you try. You apply to jobs promising safety, promising health, promising security...Security is the whore in you that never lets you fly. You're so close. You're so close. Don't give up on me yet. Don't give up on us yet."

This hits a little closer to home than I'd like. It's what I've been thinking about most of the time.

I lost my marriage, my pets, my home, and any sense of security. I lost a great set of in-laws. I lost the future I thought I'd have with the man I thought I knew. But in the wreckage of all, that, I got the job at the Good Barn.

For strictly financial reasons, I may have to give that up.

When I told the Husband that I was going to a staffing agency, he made a face and said, I wish you wouldn't go looking for a day job just yet. Can you work forty hours a week and then teach until seven or eight at night?

Watch me. Watch me do it because I need this. When I worked forty hours a week and then went to the barn and rode almost every night, I was happy - and, given the amount of time I've had to think about things since The Disaster, I've realized that I haven't been happy since.

Twelve years is a long time to be unhappy.

When I got the job at the Good Barn, I thought it was a sign that things were turning around. Now, while I know that most of us whose talents are a bit off the beaten path usually have to have day jobs, I do not for the life of me understand why the Universe would grant me my heart's desire - teaching at the Good Barn - and then make me give it up. 

This has been a trend since The Disaster; if I want something, I'm almost assured that it'll look like I'm going to get it, only to have it pulled away at the last second. It's made me afraid to want. It's made me afraid to dream. At the same time, I'm afraid not to, because the things that make me who and what I am aren't going to go away. Insurance and a 401K aren't going to make my heart sing; guaranteed hours and paid holidays don't make me feel like I'm doing what I was meant to do. At the same time, Uncle Aleister never said that doing your True Will would pay the bills, did he?

So I burn candles, I sprinkle incense, I wear a charm in my sports bra. And every day, I pray - please, let me have this.

Monday, November 12, 2012

Status Update.

So after deliberation and a chat with his grandma, who assured him that she will not insist we find Jesus (why these people think I lost him somewhere is beyond me, but whatever), the Husband and I will probably be moving to his grandmother's land and renovating an outbuilding into a home for us. I'll have my furchildren again, some room to garden, and maybe Grandma and I can stick to safe topics like sewing and crocheting. She'd like to keep goats for wool and milk, but I think perhaps she has not considered the trouble with the milk aspect, i.e., the keeping-them-lactating thing.

My car's "SERVICE ENGINE" light is still on, and after an estimate to replace the thermostat (which is what's likely wrong with it), Husband declared "Fuck that", and decided he'd just do it ourselves.

Lessons at the Good Barn continue to be good. The owner brooks very little client nonsense, and it's easy to hide behind her when tomfuckery is afoot, which is not often.

I finished Phase II of Frater R.O.'s Gates Rites. I have yet to experience enlightenment, but then again, the house didn't burn to the ground due to my miscalculations of the planetary hours. I'm thinking of what a real daily practice would look like for me. I've been greeting the Ancestors each day, and taking a moment to give thanks for the rising of the sun, but I feel like there's something else I should be doing. Time to sit at the altar and ask what that might be, I think.

Thursday, November 8, 2012

Dreams, Part II.

Last night featured the following dreams:

I was driving through an intersection with a red-light camera. It had just turned red but there was no-one else driving, so I went through the intersection anyway, running over the camera in the process. I mean, I plowed that thing. Interpretation: people in Texas hate red-light cameras.

I was lost in a dormitory, when one of my friends who is in college finally appeared. She was explaining that on her floor (which was set up like one giant room), she seemed to be in charge (she's a dominant in real life). I said, "Some people naturally lead, and some naturally follow". Interpretation: I use cliches far more in dreams than in waking life.

I was driving through a part of town that had been fairly rough, but had started to gentrify. Except the gentrification didn't take, and everything was dark, store windows papered over, everything closed, hardly any working streetlights. Interpretation: I really have no flippant remark about this one. I'd say it's about how I'll probably have to go back to an office job, with the riding lessons as a sideline, but somehow, that just doesn't sit right.

And the red-light camera is probably actually about accidentally breaking my housemates' marble rolling pin last night. I hate it when I break other peoples' things, especially when I was trying to be very, very careful.

Tuesday, November 6, 2012

Dreams and Work.

There was circle on Saturday with the wonderful Trothwy and crew, and then back to the Seven Spheres Rites on Sunday. Frater RO has advised paying attention to our dreams.

I don't recall more than one, and an odd one at that. I was in front of a room, but instead of a door, it had a split, translucent plastic curtain. It also had windows made out of the same material. As I approached the door, a girl child took my hand and pulled me away, saying, "No, don't go near it, that's how the Hag sucks you in."

As I am no more cautious in dreams than in waking life, I snuck a hand around the corner of the wall to where the door was, and gave the plastic a push. I was immediately sucked around the corner and forward, and the flaps of the door started to blow up and apart. I remember thinking, "Here we go," and while I was initially afraid, I wasn't terrified, especially when I got pulled in and the roaring wind stopped and all went silent.

That, of course, is when I woke up. So I don't know what the Hag looks like, or why she gave up that cute little chicken-footed hut for a room within a room with plastic doors and windows. I'm really hoping to find out tonight.

Friday, November 2, 2012

New Year, Same Stuff.

I consider the day after Samhain to be the New Year and Summer's End.

I was hoping that between radical life changes and doing the Rites last week, that I'd start off on a good note, feeling all hopeful and chipper and having things even out and crap like that.

Not so much.

There was the sudden firing by the Bad Barn. The Good Barn just lost 2 clients, one of whom was one of my students who rode twice a week. This Sinus Crud will not leave. Husband has been on overtime for two or three weeks now, which is good, but may also have to work all Thanksgiving weekend, which means no going to Renfaire this year.

I am Over It. I am peeved at the Universe, which seems to be on a "give her something/take two things away" kick. I got the job at the Good Barn - but I won't even be able to cover this month's groceries unless I get two new students in, and if they can't give me enough lessons, I'm going to have to quit and begin another desperate search for a desk job anyway. We need to move out by the end of March, which is a lot sooner than I'd thought.

Yes, life has it's ups and downs. Light at the end of the tunnel and whatnot. But I'm bone-weary and the temptation to shout "THAT'S IT. I QUIT" and just lay down where I am and refuse to move is great. I need at least a year where maybe only one major appliance breaks down or I have a sudden huge vet bill or there is some other unpleasantness, as opposed to the past year where all of the frigging above have happened, usually in rapid succession.

I am sick of chaos and disaster and having almost no options. I am tired of trying my damnedest at whatever-it-is and still not succeeding. I am worn thin from having things I want dangled in front of me, just out of reach, only to be snatched back at the last moment.

And it's making me exceptionally boring to talk to in real time and blog posts, I'm sure.

Speaking of which (and witch - LOL SEE WHAT I DID THERE), I do recognize that it could be worse. We could have gone to stay with friends in New Jersey and lost everything we had (theoretically - I don't actually know anyone in New Jersey, really). We could be losing time from work that we won't get paid for, like the wonderful Deb at Charmed, I'm Sure. So I'm pimping her shop here (click me!) in the hopes that maybe some of you wonderful folk might go forth and buy stuff or make some kind of donation.