The Diary of Queen Mothy |
They're Baaaaack . . . Oh, Say it Ain't So. written @ 5:36 PM on August 08, 2003 The emotion of the day: moody. And why? Well, a number of things. One is that I went for my blood test this morning (and you know me when it comes to medical business... see my wisdom tooth entry from two or three days ago), and the girl tending to the needle missed the vein in my left arm and then almost went too deep into my right arm-- and that was enough to cause unbalanced emotional issues, understandably. The second reason for my moodiness is that the only conversation Dad and I seem to have anymore is, "Did you finish copying my CDs?" I have to proceed slowly in this otherwise it crashes my laptop, something which I have explained to him many times. And what happened today? Yup, you got it. I'm now waiting for my laptop to begin breathing again. The third reason is my brother has been tearing around the house all afternoon searching for his missing cell phone, which he accused my friends of stealing last night. Might seem a little petty to even give this minor glitch in my day any space in my diary, except when my laptop took a swan dive into cyber oblivion I was in no mind to deal with his ranting for me to call them and, to be sure, I was ready to knock his block off. And then he has the nerve to demand that I drive him to work. The fourth reason for my foul aura this otherwise lovely day is I've been thinking a lot about how much I hate it when Mother puts me on the spot asking me if my dad "has/does not have the right" to do this or that in regards to house visits in lieu of their separation. For instance, she thinks he "does not" have the right to come over to the house if he gets off work early and doesn't call her ahead of time while she's at work. Am I the only one here who sees that issue as petty in the grand scheme of things as far as this separation goes? My "favorite" question she asks me is, "Do you think I'm being a bitch?" Someone who hates his or her mom would probably have no problems spitting back an answer, except I consider my relationship with my mother to be pretty cool, so responding is always measureably difficult. Even worse is when she asks me in front of friends, or worse yet, asks my friends who, in spite of the many times I vent on this issue, can never truly understand all the circumstances and details surrounding the issue of the separation, and thereby make an awkward situation. As if my opinion is not good enough for her. Okay, okay, I'm being an insolent brat now. When I took up estoteric practices, I vowed I would make myself a better person out of this, and that meant not being nearly as selfish or insolent and practicing a healthy neutrality when facing sources of negative energy. With that said... Onward with the entry... The fifth reason for my annoyance is that all night I kept hearing this door slam somewhere in the house. I began to hear it before going to bed; it sounded like the closet doors in the upstairs hallway, and I thought perhaps it was Jonathan because he tends to be a night owl in the summer . . . although I couldn't figure out why he wanted to get into the linens closet. But while lying in bed it sounded like the door to the basement kept opening and closing. I thought about getting up and telling Jon to shut up, but that would have taken too much energy around one in the morning. I asked my mom if she had heard the doors slamming this afternoon. "No, not last night," she said, "but I have heard doors slamming somewhere in the house during times when I was alone or about to take a nap." Then she gave me one of those sly smiles. "I always contributed them to your little friends." "No," I said, "they were gone before one last night, and I heard the doors way past that time. I watched my friends leave after the movie last night, Jonathan was in his room, and so it couldn't have been them." "Not those friends," she said, "the other friends." My eyes widened. "Oh. Those friends." Goddamn, I thought, here we go again. "They're not my friends," I growled. Because anyone who keeps me awake, living or dead, is not my friend! So. If what I think is doing all the door slamming is really what is doing all the damn door slamming, then I'd say my house is about to go into a spiritual repercussion. The spirits from last month have mostly departed except for a few souls-- my regular readers will remember Bridget, the Witch, one of the little girls, and Marcus every once in a while-- but there are a few new faces, methinks. I don't have an educated guess to make as to who is doing the door banging (because if Mom is right, this has been going on for some time), but obviously it's a stronger spirit if it has the ability to move and shift things on our plain of existence. I'm going to do a little psychic prodding this evening to try and get to the bottom of this. Will proceed with caution.
A Bit of History ~ And Onward! L'Amour Toujours! - August 08, 2005 |
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