Sometimes Following Your Intuition Can Be Really Fun ... 'Cause There's Jewelry and Other Cool Stuff

So, today I'm packing for another business trip tomorrow. As I was looking at my jewelry, I realized that I don't really have enough small, professional earrings, which is why I wore the same pair all last week.

I love jewelry and I especially love earring because, well, they always fit.
When you've lost and gained, lost and gained, mostly gained as much weight as I have ... it's important to have things you love that fit. When I moved to Florida, I took 15 to 20 crates full of my fat to skinny/skinny to fat clothes. At any given time, I can't wear the majority of the clothes I own.

In any case, the result is that I have a lot of really cool earrings, which means they are too big, too funky, too odd for a client site. I also have some big, long necklaces because I'm ... big and long. The combination of big or funky earring and big necklaces is ... not good.

So, today, while I was desperate to get out of the house after working, packing, doing laundry, I had a whole plan. A plan which didn't include this podunk little fair here in town that I only found out about yesterday.

Anglea Boswell, the fantastic owner of Dream Angels told me that she was going to have a booth at this little fair yesterday after my reading. I helped her pack up. 

So, as I was running errands, I felt that I should go to that fair before I went to the beach. (I have to see the ocean before I get on yet another plane tomorrow!). I had to ask why and the answer I heard from my angels, spirit, whomever, was "earrings!"

When I arrived, I walked around mostly trying to block out the unbelievably loud band and not get eaten alive by noceums. I'd walked the whole place, said "Hi!" to Angela, and sort of wondered. Then, I saw about three pairs of earrings at this booth.

The woman was just setting up and pointed me to a bin she had just put out on the table. They were absolutely PERFECT!! I bought 12 pair for $50 and they are so perfect for my trip; I'm so excited!

While I was picking earring for the trip, I could feel my Mom come through (my Mom is dead) to give my sister in California a pair. My older sister and I are a bit estranged at the moment. She cut the family out of her wedding, it's a whole thing, and I couldn't let it go. I've forgiven her and I know my Mom wants us to make peace.

On the first day of my new job, I was so overwhelmed that I got lost on the way home. I kept crossing over the highway at points where there was no access ramp. As I was trying to process why I was going to California, I passed this HUGE billboard that said "SISTERS!"

That was my first inkling of my Mom's involvement.

I'm trying to make arrangements to visit my sister next week. Just now, I was looking through the earrings to pick a pair and I felt it when a pair came up. I literally said out loud, "MOM!" because they were my favorite pair. Typical sister shit! Ha ha ha!

A Spirit in the Corporate World

This morning while prepping in the hotel lobby for Round Two of all day meetings (and only my third full day on the job), I heard Spirits in the Material World by the Police. It made me laugh because it was the only actual song I heard in the 30 minutes I sat there. The rest was background, elevator music.



It's the essence of what I'm going through now. I had all this time off to get to know myself and my spirit  without distractions and now BOOM! I'm back in the bewildering, exhausting, and soul-sucking corporate world. And my goal this time is to not get ... um ... sucked. *~*

I must employ a healthy detachment from this world, the corporate world, and recognize that my world is elsewhere.

I've been reminded to remember that this world is all an illusion, but that is not going to fly with me. Ever. I've been hearing it for over a decade and "It's all an illusion" is like a tinfoil in the tooth to me as I chow down on spirituality.

I'll never swallow it. I don't believe it.

What people are getting at with that observation is that this world is not the most real, not the ultimate truth about you or your existence. Your 3D experiences are real, but not as real as the soul inside interpreting those experiences.

The whole spiritual journey is to identify with the soul inside and not your physical address. The difference between ultimate reality and a lesser or lower reality does not make the lower reality an illusion.

Have you ever been punched in the gut? I have and it's pretty real.

Have you ever merged with Creator? I have and it makes a punch in the gut ... all blurry and vague. I have gone to Creator, my angels, my spirit so full of 3D questions and angst only to have them fade away like vapor when I truly connect. [Only to return and shout, "Crap! I didn't ask anything I was supposed to!" I'm starting to wonder if forgetting those material questions is that answer in itself ... ]

So, this morning, while wading back into a former reality of mine, a reality I let eclipse my spiritual path many times, it was a nice reminder to remember that the material world is just an experience but not my essence, not my ultimate truth.

It's time to hold fast in the hurricane as 3D "reality" crashes around me.

Sometimes You Don't Need Your Angels to Tell You ....

Sooo, even though Idid just land a great job, all of my job alerts are still on. I just checked them and there is a position in my field and industry where I have the most expertise. I had just finished meditating and, being connected, I could hear my angels say, "This is not the job for you."

So, I clicked on it anyway of course and the first bullet point I see is:

"Must have high level of interpersonal skills to handle sensitive and confidential situations. Position continually requires demonstrated poise, tact and diplomacy."

Yeah, that's not me.

I'd like to think that I would have figured this out on my own anyway, but thanks anyway Angels! :D

This is my Message to You - hoo - hoo

I have had an anxiety problem for so long that I didn't know I had an anxiety problem until recently. Ain't that some shit?!

Well, today is my second day on my new job and I spend it in the airport, flying out to California for a business trip ... in front of clients.


Wellll, I was handling the anxiety this would give anyone ... no, actually, I am. As the two lives I seem to be living would have it, I spent all day yesterday at an Angel workshop ... also in Fort Lauderdale. Hmmm...

Anyway, I think that set me up quite nicely for this week!

All day, I have been thanking my angels and thanking my angels and I keep hearing this song.

Of course, I am. However, the key line is "every little thing is gonna be alright" because the habit I am releasing seems to keep coming up with stupid little things to worry about.

Thank you Angels! I got your message to me - hee - hee.

Coming Full Circle ... All the Way to the Bank

Today was my first official day at my new job. It's been four months since I received a paycheck for my labor. I actually got the check yesterday, which I blogged about. When I woke up, that Chumbawumba song that goes, "I get knocked down, but I get up again..."

At the time, I was like WTH?! And then I realized that it's the perfect song for today. I did get knocked down and get back up. I have had a few fantastic readings with Angela Boswell from Dream Angels in Jupiter, Fl. She uses these beautiful tarot cards and the falling Tower has come up in many positions and it was obvious to both of us that my life was falling apart. Not much intuition needed for that one!

I moved to Florida in November after two years of desperately wanting to move. It took me about a year to admit to anyone that I wanted to move and then another year + to find a job here. During that time, people kept asking if I would move without a job and I was horrified. NO! Of course, I would only move if I had a job.

Well, I got one. I moved. I got fired three months later.

It was kind of mutual because they were fucktards of the highest order and I couldn't believe I moved here for that ... but still I was left with no income, in a new place where I knew one person. Shit yeah! I got knocked down. And I was stunned, hurt, and scared shitless.

I think it took me three weeks just to get over the shock.

They walked me out!
They walked me OUT?
THEY walked ME out?!?!?
They walked me out.

I had to pack up my desk with no warning and in front of the whole office. My hands were shaking so bad I could hardly sign the agreement. They gave me no reason. No warning. And ensured me that no one would watch me clear out my desk...


which of course just made it so much worse.

Because they all knew. They had been told that I would be walked out that morning. It explained why they all looked through me ... as though I wasn't there. And why the woman who had stabbed me in the back to ensure that I was walked out left the office with some weird, twitchy explanation at 11am.  (She was such a weird, twitchy one that I barely noticed.)

The guy who hired me looked at me as though I was a piece of shit on his shoe and said "[woman who stabbed me in the back] and I agree that we need to..."

There's more to this story, but that will be another blog.

Well, today, a wild confluence events had me driving through that parking lot again ... today ... on my first day of my new job. A job I was never sure I would get.

To summarize, I definitely wanted to deposit my first check ASAP and one of the only places I can do that is a credit union around the corner from the fucktards' office. Credits unions use this thing called "shared branching" when you move out of the vicinity of your credit union ... but it's only certain credit unions. Hence, the location of one of the only places I could deposit that check.

I'm still not sure how to describe how I felt when driving past the scene of my firing/layoff/whatever the hell that was. It wasn't quite the victory you'd think ... or I had always thought it would be. All I could think of was how eager I was to drive past and get on with the rest of my day.

Ironically, the most hurtful part of the day was that I posted to FaceBook that I woke up with that Chumbawumba song in my head and how perfect for my first day back and no one, not a single one of my friends liked it or commented or anything. Just like no one wished me Happy Birthday! on my birthday this past November just after I moved.

Angela explained that they are jealous because they believe my jokes. Talk about full circle.

They think because I joke about life, it's easy for me and it's not easy for me. And I must not even be grateful for it because I make jokes. Doesn't anyone know that if I didn't learn to make jokes and laugh through pain, I would have blown my brains out years ago? I'd be one of those women who have to be removed from their trailers with a crane.

I guess it's the price of being funny.

By the way, if you doubt my theory on joking your way through suicidal thoughts so that you don't actually kill yourself, listen to Paul Gilmartin's podcast.

"Say 'Thank You!' Gilbert"

...is my favorite line from the awesome movie What's Eating Gilbert Grape? (I was trying to find a clip on YT, but it's taking forever.)

It comes to mind because I recently had an epiphany regarding how to interact with my angels involving the phrase "Thank you."

I was listening to an interview with Kyle Gray where he said that he walks his talk everyday by saying "Thank you Angels for [fill in the blank]."

Now, this isn't the first time that I have heard this message or, rather, this methodology. What struck me was why it was so effective. Something that had never occurred to me before.

In the past, when I heard people saying (or suggesting saying), "Thank you Angels for guiding me." for instance, they have described the value of this methodology by saying that you are affirming that it is already done. And I think that just tripped my bullshit wire. Or my WTF does that mean? wire. Some wire, somewhere and I ignored it.

When I heard it again the other day, though, I realized why it works: receiving.

In addition to the fact that gratitude always feels better than a bad attitude, there is something programmed into all of us to say "thank you" when we receive something.

Well, those of us of a certain age anyway. I've run into some younger people who ... oh forget that. That's a whole other blog and I am being positive right now. :)

To say "Thank you, Angels," "Thank you, guides," "Thank you, spirit," is put yourself in the mind of having received something without ANY EXTRA WORK AT ALL! It just happens. You're brain believes something has been received when you say "thank you."

If you are like me, receiving is a huge issue. When you grow up deprived, you ask for a lot of things you don't get until you just give up and learn to suffer in silence believing that nothing and no one is coming to help you, which then becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy and the same cycle keeps repeating.

Doreen Virtue and most spiritual teachers harp on the fact that you need to ask for help and this is true.

But a lot of us did a lot of asking and not getting when we were growing up. To ask now just brings that hurt to the surface. The neglected child's motto, "Don't ask and you can't be disappointed." This is why we don't ask or get sketchy results when we do. We ask expecting to receive nothing and nothing is often what we get.

Not because the Angels, Guides, and Spirit aren't there.
Not because they don't love us.
Not because they don't hear us.
Not because they don't want to help us or are too wrapped up in their messy personal lives like our parents were.

Nothing comes back because we expect nothing from all those times we asked for something and got nothing in return.

And this just makes us angrier, and more bitter, and more ... trapped.

You can try to reprogram your whole mind, release this pattern, release this sadness. And God knows that I have spent many years (and many thousands of dollars) doing just that. However ... it's like climbing Everest: long, arduous, and you keep wondering if you are ever going to reach the top.

OR

You can use the mind you already have with all its quirks while you're working it all out. One of its quirks is "thank you" means I just received something and it's done. Just like that. For free!

The difference between asking for help and saying "thank you" for help may seem like nothing, but it's everything is asking means you ask in vain and thanking means you get the help you were asking for.

I have made this switch in the past few days and it is such a big difference to me.

Just this morning I was confused about a flight for an upcoming business trip and I said, "Thank you Angels for letting me know whether to fly back on Friday or Saturday." I heard "Friday" plainly and clearly. Just like that. For free! So Friday it is and I am not going to think about it anymore.

So, next time you need something, say "thank you" for it first and then wait for it to show up.

Because it will; you tricked your mind into believing it and that's how the angels can plug into you and send all that light to you.

All my love to you, Internet world.

Positive Signs

A good friend of mine just sent me a really thoughtful email informing me that if I'm going to assert my right to be negative and spiritual then I shouldn't be surprised if some people respond negatively. And, you know what?

She was totally right!

I just never thought of it that way. Her email seems like the perfect segue-way to record a beautiful experience that I had today.

As I've recorded I just started working this week after four months off ... well, being unemployed. It's hard to describe unemployed time off as ... time off. "Time off" sounds like a vacation and that's not how being unemployed feels ... most of the time.

Anyway, I got a paycheck today! I agreed to volunteer before my official start date because my official start date involves a business trip ... that I need to prepare for!

I'm going in for what I thought was my first volunteer day tomorrow ... and they already paid me for it! The 15th of the month is coming up, so they must have submitted it in time for the service to cut a check.

As I was walking out to my car this morning (after receiving the check), I saw this beautiful tiny white feather floating in front of me. It was just suspended slowly in front of me for what seemed like ... ever and I was struck suddenly by the beauty of it all and how grateful I am.

What a beautiful sign. Thank you Angels!!




See, I can be positive ... when I mean it! :D <3

Where's the Sex Machine?

I am recently employed ... and they want me to fly out to California on business trip on my first day. Holy shit! I haven't even had time to write all my deep thoughts about being unemployed and how it started my blog. It was going to be beautiful. In fact, I was actually surrendered to being unemployed long enough to document it.

Then ... whoa! wait! I'm hired?

I'm so grateful and happy ... and this brings me to my being-a-woman-can-make-you-batshit-crazy-regardless-of-your-best-intentions kind of feeling. For men, a last minute business trip means a trip to the dry cleaners and a shave kit. For women, that means

• Going through your entire closet looking for outfits
• SHOES!
• Brows
• Makeup
• Manicure/Pedicure
• And ... I am forgetting something. Crap!

This brings me to the sex machine. Sex Machine by Nars is the perfect lip ... solution ...in a pencil ... or a wand ... or whatever they call the lip stuff in a comically large pencil. I have no effing idea why it's in a pencil (or why it costs $25!). 

For years, I have been looking for a good ... lip solution and, years ago, I found it in Sex Machine. Me. All 300 pounds of awkward, geeky, angel-loving, Joss Whedon fan, couldn't get arrested on a speed date with the policeman's union me ... wears the Sex Machine.

My dilemma is that I hate glossy gloss and I CANNOT tolerate lipstick. Gloss feels like I just varnished my lips with lacquer that won't dry. I have even had a hard time talking because my lips tried to glue themselves together every time they touched. The gloss that isn't like that tends to have no color at all. We tell ourselves that it has great color because we need to but it doesn't. That organic, all-natural lip gloss you paid through the nose for doesn't show up at all. I'm your best friend. The friend that tells you when you make bad makeup choices. Speaking of which, you might want to check your teeth for lettuce.

To me, lipstick smells like a crayola crayon. Also, not to be too morbid here, but that crayola wax/heavy makeup smell reminds me of my mom in the open-casket we had during her wake. My mom died from complications related to diabetes. By the time she died ... something had happened that made the flesh of her face sink back into the bones. The mortician caked on the makeup to try and make her look normal. I could smell the makeup about 10 feet from the casket. Why we didn't just go with a closed casket ... would probably take years of therapy to explain. Regardless, ever since then, I cannot tolerate that heavy makeup smell ... and not right under my nose. Also, lipstick feels like tile grout on your lips. You know it's true.

As a result, I have been looking for an alternative that looks good for years, but never more diligently than in the past week. I have lip stains that are really moisturizing! (according to QVC) Of course, they are neither moisturizing nor do they show up. The worst of both worlds. And glosses that claim to not be sticky ... they're all sticky.

The thing that seems to work best for me is a lip pencil with a great lip balm. The quest for the perfect lip balm is ... a whole other blog. Well, not really. It's Neosporin Lip Health.

I discovered the Sex Machine through what I think was another late-night purchase from the Q far too long ago. Anyway, the color? Perfect! The perfect pink. The feel? Perfect! No crayola smell and I can barely feel it. Me when I first tried it ...

OMG! This is perfect. What is it... wait, is that name for real? No seriously, What?!

And it came with a blush named ... wait for it  ... "Orgasm." Apparently, Nars is famous for their racy names. Why? I don't know. It's not funny, cute, or amusing ... well, it is amusing, but not in the way they think. If you are going to make the perfect color, name it 1.239 or how about "Perfect Pink?" Something vague and innocuous that would never cause anyone to write a blog about it.

Wellll, despite the name, I have worn this lip color out ... to the point where I could have injured myself. I found the nub I could not part with on a frantic search through all my makeup last week.

I think George Bush was president when I bought this. Despite how gross this nub is, I actually tried to put it on for the interview and almost split my lip open on the wood from the pencil.

I had to buy a new one. It's a  new job!

When I found the nub ... as you can see, I could not see the name of the color and had forgotten all about the drama of the name. I was freaking out because I had to have it. I need to talk in an interview which means my lips need to separate.

I was running errands a few days ago and suddenly remembered and then, being me, said out loud wherever the hell I was

SEX MACHINE!!

So, I looked it up online and yes that is the name of the color.

All of this sent me to the mall on Monday - I loathe the mall! - to find the Sex Machine. You know life just got interesting when you're prowling the makeup counter at Nordstrom's thinking,

Sex Machine. Sex Machine. Where's the Sex Machine? I need the Sex Machine!

I made it so Sephora and actually asked one of those black lab-coated Valkyries who prowl the store looking for a commission...

Ummmm... where's the ... umm Nars?

Because why would it be easy to find?

She showed me to the aisle and ... No Sex Machine! I almost had to ask for it. Really! The sweaty panic. The hysterical giggles...

I (giggle) just (breathe) need the (giggle) Sex Machine.

Finally, I found it ... and it's just as perfect as I remember ... and no lip splinters!

(I refused to even look at the Orgasm blushes. Because, you know, my dignity....)

So now, all I need is my Sex Machine and some .... Neosporin.

Oh no!

The Positive Police

The positive police pulled me over for another violation today.

It started with a cupcake. A vegan, gluten-free, chai-flavored cupcake. Yes, you read that right. Someone made that and then someone decided to sell that. I know because I processed the transaction.

Well, I just had to post the following to FaceBook:

I just sold the most disgusting cupcake I never thought of: vegan, gluten-free, chai. To my palette, that's like biting into baked vomit.

Wow. That post is even more harmless than I thought. I didn't mention the yoga center where I sold it, the brand, or make some blanket statement about vegan cupcakes. I just said that I think they're disgusting. Well, I was tactful there, but, here, I'll say it: vegan cupcakes are disgusting. And chai is even worse.

One of my very close friends once spent several hours making chai tea from scratch for me ... and I had to look her in the eye and say, "Honey, I love you, but I almost barfed that up my nose." And she had spent hours making it, out of love. If I'm going to be that honest with someone I love, what the hell am I going to say upon encountering a vegan chai cupcake?!

The gluten-free part is fine. I have had some gluten-free waffles that are the best breakfast food I have ever tasted. But chai? And any vegan baked item? Disgusting. I didn't even mention the yoga center until I got to the comments where I remarked that "sale" was not really an accurate term because it cost $4.

I would like to say that I was very nice to the person I sold it to. I just said, "Wow, that's an interesting combination." She said it was yummy and that was that.

Well, today I get called in by the owner of studio so that she could tell me that she was uncomfortable with my FaceBook post about the cupcake. WTF?!

• First of all, why does she care what I put on my own personal FaceBook page? I thought it was odd when she said she wanted to be personal friends with me on FaceBook. Why is that necessary? To police my posts.

• Secondly, I didn't mentioned where I sold it or who made it.

I mentioned that I have a running joke with a friend about how gross vegan cupcakes are (She loves 'em!) and thought it would be funny to see her respond with "Sounds delicious!" and the battle could rage on.

We just want to make sure that everyone speaks positively about each other. This is a single-mother who is supporting herself and throwing her all into this business. Think about if you were some kid who couldn't have gluten and you could have a cake. And that was all you could have. I'd just like you to broaden your perspective on that. I don't want to carry this around so now I feel better for having told you.

What the hell was that? I think vegan cupcakes are disgusting and now I'm out to destroy a single-mom's business and literally steal cake from a baby?

This shit has got to stop. I do not have to speak in a positive manner about things I feel negatively about. That is not life and that is not spiritual in any way. Policing opinions to only speak positively is just a ... cancer on new age spirituality.

If I wasn't a true believer, this would not bother me so much. This would just be a blog post making fun of another new age kook and that would be it.

However, I am a true believer with a ton of deep spiritual experiences that I have yet to get to in this blog. In fact, just prior to this "discussion," the Divine Mother and my own deceased mother had come to me during the meditation at the end of the yoga class. They each put one hand on either side of my face and looked me in the eye to convey how proud they were of me for deciding to take the riskier path in my career. That they believed in me so I should too. I felt so much love that I damn near wept in front of everyone.

THAT is what's real. THAT is the power of spirituality and, more importantly, spiritual practice.

• I do not speak in only positive terms about everything no matter what I really feel.
• I am not skinny.
• I do not eat vegan.
• I do not to do yoga in tiny little spandex "outfits" and $40 camisoles.
• I do not stare if into space like I just dropped in from another planet and spout nonsense about karma or dharma or whatever.

AND I DON'T HAVE TO! These are not requirements on the path to God. Enlightenment doesn't come from this kind of nonsense. If fact, it keeps enlightenment at bay and prevents people from even trying. It turns the spiritual path into a joke. I tell a lot of jokes and I know funny, but this is not funny to me at all.

You do not need to eat vegan cupcakes to hear your angels, your guides, or your Creator. You can be loud, inappropriate, and a total mess and Creator is still eager to connect. Fuck it, you can even curse like I do and it's not going to stop Divine Mother from dropping in with a blessing.

And you know what? The positive police are just afraid of their own negativity. That's why they police everyone else. To connect to Source is to be unafraid of darkness or negative feelings because Source gives you the strength to cope with them and, more importantly release them.

How is policed positivity any different from the dogma of the churches we all grew up in? Don't offend God's ears! As if that's even possible. It this is how we're going to be, let's just be crazy Christians. I don't know about you, but I think I could rock one of those bedazzled crucifixes on the back pockets of my jeans. Well, when I've lost enough weight to fit into my jeans ... but I digress.

My point is that we're supposed to know better. We're supposed to put it into practice. We're not supposed to say we're helping people find themselves by asking them to become someone else. Someone who only speaks in positive terms about everything when their depression is about to swallow them up. It doesn't help and it would be laughable if it wasn't so damn sad.

Dear God .... How Could You Do This To Me?

I have been unemployed for about four months. And I had two real prospects 2.5 months ago where the pay was so low, it was laughable. I had to walk away. (I'll blog about those two morons another time.) Since then ... nothing. It was like I was a leper and Jesus was on permanent vacation.

Then, two companies contact me on Monday, one interviews me on Wednesday, the other today (Thursday) and both want to offer me a job. It's a compliment, but good Lord! What the hell happened? Last time I checked my shirt, I still had the same boobs, no implants, no lifts. Did I get hotter all of a sudden?

When all of this happened on Monday, I was volunteering at a yoga center. Well, "volunteering" is a loose term. When I was on those phone interviews, no one was getting helped. Thank God, no one is in there on Monday afternoons but the instructors. 

As I was telling the head of that center I might have to leave soon for one of two jobs, she was not surprised at all. 

"You took your energy away from it, accepted that it would take a while to find a job, and focused on other things. Then, it could come to you."

Well, ain't that some shit? Really, God, is THIS how we do things? I've always been the kind of person to hold on to a task with a vice grip until it's done. Isn't that what the world tells us to do? See it through. Be consistent. Never give up.

The truth is that it's better to go do something else and take your energy off it ... whatever it is. God, I guess you need space to work your magic. I was suffocating You and You needed some bro time to just chilllllll.

Who knew that you were supposed to take your eyes OFF the ball to hit a homerun? Nobody ever tells you that shit when you're growing up. Our culture has too many overachieving assholes who - not surprisingly - give horseshit advice.

Less insightful but certainly well meaning was the valley girl napping in the back of the yoga center who woke up, then interrupted my regaling her with my white girl problems to offer, 

"It's, like, karma? You're here, like, on an energy exchange, like, riiiiight? Well, that's like good karma like coming back to you."

On the long drive home from today's interview, I had a talk with my guides. I'm one of those intuitives that receives great information from my guides and angels when I'm doing something else, something other than asking them  or "tuning in." It never comes to me when I'm asking but later when I'm doing some kind of .... something, usually driving. (Thanks for that, by the way! How useful to get the guidance to sort out your life while your fucking driving and can't write it down or record it in any way. Speaking of which, this blog entry was so much cooler in my head on the way home than it is now, but I blame You for that.)

The thing is that it's all about choice. Being intuitive and having psychic friends offers no insulation from difficult human choices. For example, two weeks ago, a psychic friend of a friend of mine actually texted my friend to tell her to tell me that there would be two jobs coming my way and that one of them was really right for me.

ONE of them. Not which one. Just ONE.

Awesome!

I still have to decide. It's like Harry Potter taught us, it's our choices that make us who we are. The psychic part helps - I sure got my resume together and started sending shit out after my friend relayed our psychic friend's message. But now the ball's in my court.

No matter how good you are at hearing your own angels, spirit, guides, whomever, it comes down to you in the end. And, it's supposed to.

Choices and consequences. It's what makes Joss Whedon stories so great and life so difficult.

Also, not all blessings feel like blessings at the time. Again, what makes Joss Whedon stories so great and life so difficult. (By the way, good job on that guy! He really is a genius. I know he doesn't believe in You, but most atheists are atheists because they understand You better than believers. And pop! goes the can of worms. More on this subject when I am not overwhelmed with white girl problems.)

I am so grateful to be in this position ... so damn happy that I am giving myself chin acne just like Tina Fey. She summed up my life best (even though she doesn't know me) by saying,

"My ability to turn good news into anxiety is rivaled only by my ability to turn anxiety into chin acne."

in Bossypants (which everyone should listen to!). I have a big zit above my lip now, so close enough...

In conclusion, God, thank you. No really! The abundance of your blessings ... can be measured in puss above my lip.

(I know, I know, I'm doing it to myself .... blah, blah, blah ....)