I'm SO GLAD it's not just me

So, let's pretend for a second....

You're a dude on facebook, and you're a boomer.

One of your old High School buddies sends your 30 year old daughter a friend request.

No biggie. 

Your old buddy, let's call him Dan, writes on your daughter's, let's call her Lana, timeline:

"Hey Lana! Your dad and I are old friends, we go way back! My, how you have grown ;)"

Okay, that's a little skeevy, but I suppose it's pretty harmless. That winky gives it a nasty little uncomfortable kick. But hey, maybe Dan's just not up to speed on how this works. Maybe he has no idea how that comes off to other people. He's kind of old, after all, he might not understand common internet etiquette. 

Once again, no biggie. Not really. Okay well, maybe a little, but it's nothing to get bent about. Dan is just a harmless old fart, And Lana is happily engaged anyway.

Most of their other interactions seem pretty benign. He likes her status updates. He watches all of her stories, sends her little heart reactions and stuff.

No biggie. Honestly, it's no biggie. Not a big deal, like, at all.

Then a few weeks down the road, he's back on Lana's timeline:

"Just wanted to say hi. Ran into your dad in town today, got to thinking about what a pretty baby you used to be! Send me pics, I haven't seen you in years!"

That's...kind of weird, right?  

Or is that just me?

But I guess Dan still hasn't said anything that's actually inappropriate. Weird? Definitely. Creepy? Maybe. But inappropriate? Naaahh...

No biggie, but you're probably giving him big side eye right about now. Or not. Certainly he's just being nice. There's no way he'd actually...you know...right? 

And shortly after that, Dan's back for more.

"Was just thinking about you today and wanted to drop you some love! It would be very nice to see you one day soon...I haven't seen you since you were in diapers! <kissy heart face emoji + winking tongue emoji>"

Okay, those aren't *just* winky faces this time. Plus, he also started following her on Instagram, leaving "Beautiful" and "Gorgeous" and more "My, how you have grown ;)" comments whenever she posts a selfie. He wants to give her presents and stuff. Begs her to come visit him. He doesn't write these things to any of your other children at all, and doesn't follow them on other social media. Just Lana. Maybe your other kids are really ugly or something and Dan didn't like them when they were in diapers. Kissy face!

So, is it just me, or is this creepy as fuck?

So far, everyone I've talked to about it says yes, abso-fucking-lutely, this is creepy. 

The problem is, The only person who doesn't think it's creepy is the 30 year old daughter in this story. Lana says Dad's old high school buddy is "just being nice." When Lana's boyfriend notices and says something to her about it, she gets super defensive and claims boyfriend is just jealous, Dan is like, totally harmless! They actually fight about it a little bit, because Lana thinks her boyfriend is trying to force her to "get rid of all my friends just because you can't control your jealousy!"

It's kinda like the time that weird lesbian started messaging Lana with excessively graphic details of what she wanted to do to Lana, and Lana responded and deleted them so her boyfriend wouldn't see.

Honestly, I need to point out that Lana is gaslighting her boyfriend a little here. He never asked her to get rid of anyone, he only pointed out how creepy it was that her dad's wrinkly old friend was constantly making uncomfortable comments. He didn't even get mad about the weird lesbian, he just asked because the lesbian gleefully sent him screenshots that weren't exactly incriminating, but also weren't innocent, either. Her nuclear reaction was immediate, as it usually is when it comes to these sorts of things. "How dare you accuse me of doing the things I'm doing!"

IMHO, I think Lana is fully aware and just likes the attention. You, as her boomer father, probably aren't aware, but Lana has a bit of a history. 

But that's just me. Me, and everyone else. Me, Lana's friends, Lana's boyfriend, Lana's siblings. Lana and Dan might think their slick little game of internet footsie has gone unnoticed, but everyone's had a peek under that table. I mean, it's right there, in plain sight. 

And by the way, if you're reading this and thinking it sounds incredibly familiar.....

Yes.

It's about you, Lana.

I'm not blaming Creepy Dan. He's gross, no fucking doubt, but you fully encourage it so you're mostest grossest x infinity. Creepy Dan has gotta be like 70. He keeps bringing up diapers because he's probably wearing them again and it's making him nostalgic or some shit. "Hey honey, My my my, you sure have grown up! I made a present for you in my pants, just like the ones I used to watch you make when you were 2! Hubba Hubba 😘💩"

Your super hot boyfriend is going to dump you.

How sad that you'd risk that relationship for a little bit of flattery. Not even good flattery. This is some bottom of the barrel shit the rest of us scrape off our shoes.

Regarding My Last Post....

Yo.

This deck and I are about to fight.

Check it out.

Love....blah blah blah...more love....blah blah blah.

Who? What? When? Where? WHY? WHY?!? WHYYYYY?!?! Why do you keep giving me these cards? Why is this my only answer for literally everything? Why do you tease me with beautiful thoughts of happily ever after? 

Tarot, you know how obsessive I am. You know you keep me up nearly until the sun rises, rolling these ideas around in my brain bucket. You know how absolutely consumed I am by the thought. IT'S 4:30 IN THE MORNING PLEASE GAWDS LET ME REST.

But no. No. Instead, I'm filled with this wonderful yet horrific vision of a perfect future, and I fucking WANT IT NOW. Have I not waited decades for this moment? 

BARK THREE TIMES IF YOU LOVE ME AND I'LL UNDERSTAND IT MEANS FOREVER.

Woof, woof, woof. Ruff, ruff, ruff. I don't care how you do it, just do it. Do it, so I can stop guessing.

My friends think I'm crazy now, thanks. Pfft, as if it wasn't obvious enough before.

If I pull any more of these, I'm throwing myself into oncoming traffic.

Okay, I'm not, but I'm gonna fantasize about it really, really hard.

I love you. Clearly, I do. I dare you to look at this and tell me I don't. Bark, dammit.

🖤 Love of My Life 🖤

I have never been good at reading Tarot for myself. I'm pretty okay at it when it comes to other people, but when it comes to deciphering my own cards, it may as well be written in kanji.

Right up until I got my Oliver Hibert deck (swoon).

I am so madly in love with this deck, and I maaaaay be reading too much into this, but I think it loves me, too.

So, yeah. Ain't we cute? 🖤

Anyway, my main squeeze had been doing his own readings with the Radiant Rider-Waite deck I bought for him, and it got pretty weird. Apparently he's got a little bit of competition when it comes to my affection, in the form of me running off into the sunset with someone else. He got several similar layouts, which is just odd because I'm surrounded by fuckboys and believe me, I'm not interested. Been there, done that, never again. I wish I'd had the presence of mind to take photos of his layouts because it really was weird. And consistent. But other than the occasional dick pic or some sasquatch motherfucker hitting on me, there was nothing and nobody I was interested in. Definitely no one to share affection with.

Fast forward to about 2 months ago. I'd finished one of my facebook #TarotTuesday events and decided to pull for myself.

"What can I expect in the future?"

Oh. Mah. Gawds.

Check out this bombshell.

(O.o) Say wuuuuut?

Yeah, you're seeing that right. The Page of Cups, King of Cups (partnered with the Two of Swords), and The Lovers (partnered with the Ten of Cups).

Those two extra cards refused to be separated from their partners, so I kept them around as clarifiers.

Seriously, have you ever seen a more intense love interest? Look at it! Obviously, Mr. King o' Cups has some pretty difficult decisions to make (why?), but this is the most happily ever after soul mate twin flame bullshit I have ever seen. Ever. Ever ever ever. It was so intense, I made it my FB cover photo a few days later.

Okay, time to breath again and figure out what this actually means. I wasn't cheating, I didn't know anyone who might have been harboring a secret burning passion for me...maybe I'd be getting a dog? Dogs are pretty loyal. But I live in an apartment. I can't have a fucking dog.  What (and I cannot stress this enough) the fuck?

And to make matters worse, I asked the very same question a month ago, and GUESS WHAT.

Okay, now you're just being mean.

The fuggin' Knight of Cups, Judgement (!!!), and the Ace of Cups.

I'm honestly kind of terrified by this. I don't even want to speculate on it, so instead, I've been doing what any perfectly sane person would do by holding my breath and trying not to think about Mr. Right. He's definitely not the balding fuck who bothers me on messenger every day. Definitely not the creep who sent me the dick pic on Instagram and called me a fat whore when I didn't respond. It's gotta be a dog.

So much for not thinking about it. Ugh.

Mr. Right, if you're reading this right now, I need you to bark three (3) times in rapid succession to let me know this is real. I can't stand not knowing for sure, and I really do hate to assume you're someone you're not. I understand that the Two of Swords has you in a bit of a bind - surely your current owner is lovingly giving you chin or ear scritches as I type, but dammit, you belong to me now. Clearly. 

♡ Till Death Do You Part ♡

Today I learned that men are far, far more likely to leave their wives during illness or serious injury than women with ill or injured husbands. Six times more likely, in fact, at least according to one study.

The sad part is, this information didn't come as a shock or surprise to me. We've seen it many times over with our politicians - Newt Gingrich, John McCain, John Edwards, to name a few big ones. We've seen it in headlines - from Courtney Waldon, whose husband left her after he threw gasoline on a campfire and accidently set his wife on fire in the process, to Aimee Copeland, whose ziplining accident and the amputations that followed proved to be too much for her relationship to bear. Most of us have seen it in our daily lives, as well, whether it's our own personal story, something a friend or family member is going through, or any of the numerous reddit stories or facebook dramas we've read.

While it certainly isn't a rule, it does seem that when the going gets tough, the men often get going.

And the reason I don't find this shocking or surprising?
Every single woman I know, minus one or two exceptions, has put her absolute all into every single relationship she's ever been in. Women who stick around when they've been beaten and battered because they're 100% convinced that one day, he'll come around and realize how much he's hurt her. Women who have raised children by themselves because baby daddy was too concerned with maintaining his freedom and felt trapped by the children he fathered. Women who made so many excuses when boyfriend spent all their bill money on pain pills or meth or alcohol. Women who cried alone at home on forgotten birthdays or anniversaries because hubby had other plans.

Many of us are born caretakers: loyal to a fault, willing to sacrifice our own happiness and well being until there is literally nothing left for others to take.

It's not fair, but we do this to ourselves with the expectation that a partner is just as committed as we are, and would willingly put themselves second to our needs and fuckups, if roles were reversed. But you know...of the dozens of women I've known to stay with a drug addict or abusive alcoholic for 5, 10, 15 years, I can't name one single man I've ever known who stayed with a female of the same caliber. I'm sure they're out there, but I can't name them.

It's just too bad this is a lesson that, for many of us, is almost impossible to learn until you've lived it.

Don't put your own happiness on hold for a guy who would casually force you to do so in the first place because, statistically speaking, they will ditch you the moment you need them.

♀ Sunk Cost Fallacy: Dirty Laundry Edition ♀

You'd like to think your sacrifices will be recognized eventually.
You'd like to think they'd do the same for you as you've done for them.
You'd like to think that because it wasn't always so bad, maybe it'll get better.
You'd like to think maybe one day, they'll appreciate all you've ever done.
You'd like to think you stand to gain back just a fraction of what you've put into it.
You'd like to think that all the years you've spent giving up your own happiness weren't a colossal waste.

I guess it's possible. Anything is possible. According to Infinite Probability, there's a possibility that I might one day open my dryer to find all the laundry has folded itself.

Oh. Yay, I guess.

That's what I read, anyway. But I don't think I'm going to hold my breath, waiting for it to happen.

All that time? It's gone. It's never coming back. The life you missed while waiting for that certain someone to see the value in you cannot be retrieved.

Maybe if you wait a little longer, that laundry will fold itself. One day.

But I doubt it.

And even if it does....
Let's say it does. You're 75 years old. You've spent the last 55 years of your life waiting on that laundry to magically fold itself and justify all the nights you've stayed home alone, waiting for that moment. And then one day, it happens. You open the dryer, and the laundry is folded.

You've been folding this god damn laundry for 55 fucking years, and the only thing you have to show for it now is this one time, one single, fucking time, it finally folded itself and....and what? Are you supposed to be impressed? Did you really just spend all these years waiting on this laundry to do the very basic and minimal thing you've already been doing this whole fucking time? Do you think it's going to put itself away, now, too? Maybe hang itself up in the closet? Take you to the movies and buy you roses in appreciation for all the times you cared enough to wash and dry and fold it by yourself?

Fuck the laundry. Fuck all the time you've spent on it. And fuck waiting around on it to give a shit.

☽ Eko, Eko, Sailor Moon ☾

BACKGROUND: Born Southern Baptist. My great grandmother was a tyrant about it. My mother believed in the fire and brimstone god but we only ever went to church sporadically, mostly revival and Easter and what-not. My dad was on and off with it until some time in the 80s when he found Wicca. My parents divorced when I was around 6 or 7 and he kind of bailed on Christianity soon after.
I dabbled in Wicca when I was in my early teens, progressed to obnoxious atheist in my late teens and twenties, and finally went "eh, who fucking cares?" somewhere in my late twenties and went full blown agnostic.
You can give these gods any name or super power you like. All are equally unprovable. For all I know, Tolkien was the only one who got it right. All hail Eru Ilúvatar.

Hecate and Athena and The Horned God and Bastet and Baphomet and Selene and Persephone and Odin - they're all awesome on their own, but none of them really do it for me. There's nothing wrong with them, I just don't see myself as they type of person who wants to drop to her knees and offer her eternal servitude for heavenly favors.

If I were going to worship anyone, it would be Lilith, but seeing how she herself rejected living in a garden paradise if it meant an eternity of being bossed around by a man who believed himself to be superior to her even though they were created as equals, I don't think she's the type of gal who would encourage worship from others.

So, I chose Sailor Moon.

Hear me out.

Sailor Moon is the very first manga I ever read from beginning to end that really touched me. Naoko Takeuchi's use of astrology and minerals and mythology drew me in wholly and completely, and I've been hopelessly in love with the series for well over 20 years now.

Sailor Moon is everything I could ever hope to be as a human being, even without the magical girl powers. She's taken up a huge chunk of my life, without ever demanding anything in return. She is good for the sake of being good, and that's it. I have yet to find a god or goddess who would be so self sacrificing.

She's a fictional character, but the things I love about her are very real to me.

And that is why I choose to keep her as my altar goddess.

♡ The Empress ♡

Hello again, much neglected blog. Today I want to discuss something that none of my tarot reading friends seem to find all that significant, but it continues to happen, and I don't know what to make of it.

It all started on Monday, July 15, 2019.
TL;DR - Click for full background sob story. Otherwise, continue below.

My world was shattered the day before. I woke up on my friend's couch, a broken mess of emotion, and left. I slept there the night before due to home troubles, and we were up until about 3am, talking about the things I'd need to do to get right again. It was going to be a long, shitty process. I knew it. Everyone around me knew it. I'd made myself completely vulnerable in my attempt to nurture and care for others. I'd made so many sacrifices for the people I loved, given up all the things I wanted and needed for myself  in order to make others happy, and it came back to bite me right in the ass. Hard.

At least, that's how I saw it.

I suppose from another point of view, I'd become codependent, clingy, and emotionally needy. I didn't have a job, because raising four kids (doctor appointments, dentist appointments, school, after school activities, weekend activities, laundry, cooking, homework, grocery trips, etc) took a lot of time. I haven't had a real job since my youngest was born. I was completely reliant on the Head of Household, who had much higher earning potential to me. I gave up having a job and my own source of income to devote myself to these things.

I had no social life. I carted kids back and forth to school, twice a day, there and back. I was on the road anywhere from 2-4 hours a day. That's a lot of gas money and mileage on my car. I couldn't go out with my friends because I was stupid broke. Even silly, small, FREE things like meeting at the town square to walk had to be carefully calculated into my gas consumption every week. I had one single person to rely on for all of my emotional needs, and when you aren't getting along with that one person, you tend to bottle a lot of things up.

And I bottled up EVERYTHING. He worked twelve freaking hours a night. I tried not to burden him with my miseries and frustrations on top of his own, but I became sulky. 

I'm getting carried away with backstory. Point is, things were really, really, really fucking bad. 

After 19 years together, I was very suddenly and violently single (breaking up is pretty violent, but it wasn't physical - that's not what I mean), with no where to go. I packed what I could into my second hand luggage and a couple of boxes and tossed them into the back of the wrecked car my son had given me, and went to sleep on my friend's couch.

And it was over. Everything I'd done, or tried to do, was absolutely meaningless, and I had nothing to show for it.

I was sitting in my car, waiting, when I pulled Her for the 6th time in a row. It wasn't dramatic. It wasn't anything, really. I only even really kept tabs on the number of times she was showing up because she didn't answer any of my more pressing concerns, like wtf is happening to my marriage? or where tf am I gonna live? and so on. Honestly, I felt like it was a bit of a joke, because the Empress represents abundance and femininity and so many other things, and I didn't feel like I had any of that. But this was the moment that I really started to notice her, because I'd pulled her every single day, sometimes multiple times a day, for 3 days. Two or three times? Okay, yeah, that's pretty hardcore, but it might still be a coincidence. Six times, though? As I was going through all of this? (imagine my arms spread out, swiping though a vast, empty nothing. Kthx)

And here is the moment I started paying attention

But that wasn't even the end of it. I ended up pulling her a grand total of ELEVEN times in a row for a solid week. Most of those were single, one card pulls. A few were future positions in three card spreads, and twice were outcomes of the Celtic Cross. I had witnesses on several occasions, and my BFF pulled her for me two of those eleven times. By the end of that week, my husband decided he didn't want to live without me and we started trying to work things out.

After #11 and reconciliation, she stopped coming up for every single reading I did. I guess she felt like she'd made her point, whatever it was, and made herself known. And although she doesn't come up every single reading, she still shows up a lot. Like, a lot lot. Sometimes she straight up falls out of my deck when I'm shuffling. All by herself. She shows up in the "me" position of big reads. She shows up as the outcome. She often pops up during daily one card pulls. She comes up in both of my decks, as well as my husband's deck.

Whatever she represents in my life, she seems pretty inevitable.

I just wish I knew what it was.

Universe, if you're listening to me right now...

I'm ready to know her.