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I am not suffering from frazzled female syndrome. I am calm as heck, cool as a cucumber, almost what you would call extremely relaxed. Mayhap my bath this morning put the seal of good luck on it, but, actually, except for once when Billy was trying hard to fry my cookies, like I said before, my zen took hold before I was far south of Crescent City the other day and it's, bless the choruses of buddhas in all ten directions, sticking.
I am in San Mateo, which is a stupid designation. We could just call this whole scene out there "hell" and we'd be found paragons of truth on Judgment Day. They have not fazed me. I'm just noting this for your edification.
I should also announce that I have very recently wrapped my arms around Joseph Farrell and kissed his cherubic left cheek for keeping me such good company all these years. He recognized me. Fancy that. My intermittent gratitude tsunamis crash on everybody's shore, but, seems anyway, only some recognize it.
So now the two most urgent hugs for years of good stuff have been taken care of, all in under a week. There have been a number of other quite important hugs in the past few weeks, but they're so much more urgent when you never got to do more than plant eyeprints on their videos or earprints on their interviews and lectures before.
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And, since there's nothing on for this evening, I can listen to my neighbor a few doors down, and so can you [mp3, right click and download please].
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Not to frighten you with this monsoon of positivity, it's dawning on me that I may later have to resort to the dreaded TV in self defense. There's an awful lot of bass thumping and traffic noise and car doors slamming, etc, beyond these placid precincts. I hope we get TCM here, or something like it. Commercials are worse than exhaust pipes and exposure to too much modern mind control is just the sort of thing to wreck my serenity but good.
Like I say, "hell" is a better name out there.
always and any time....
