mayphoenix

[mayphoenix]

...with Long Intervals Of Horrible Sanity turned 9 today! Wow -- nine years! Where has the time gone? I should give an update. My life has taken on great changes. I am still living in the same apartment, still going through the same battles with housing and food assistance (they cut the latter and I’m getting $100/mo to buy groceries). My eldest cat has renal failure and pancreatitis and I have no idea how much longer he will be with me, so I am cherishing every day. Not to be outdone, two other cats decided they needed to have costly trips to the vet, one with a middle ear infection brought on by food allergy, which I’m now treating at home, and another who had to have all but four of her teeth extracted. I had to put my ghostwriting on hold for fear of losing rent assistance -- back in 2017, I was told it didn’t count as “regular” income, but then in 2018 I got a new caseworker who said all income counts, but now I’m back to the previous caseworker and she refuses to return my calls or answer my emails, and calling the main number is useless because it routes directly to a voicemail box that’s always full.  Back in November 2017, I received Kona, a 2002 Subaru Impreza Sport from a friend who could no longer drive (medically). She knew I needed a car, so she just gave it to me. Original owner, she had put 38K miles on this vehicle. Mechanics everywhere have said, “That car will outlive you!” Yeah, well...unfortunately, this particular make/model/year of Subaru comes with what one website calls The Dreaded Head Gasket Problem. It is inevitable, and last winter I noticed a lot of odd-smelling exhaust coming from Kona that smelled of burning coolant. I had the radiator and thermostat replaced, and was told there was a leak somewhere. A few months ago, another mechanic found this tiny leak. I am told I can still drive as long as I watch the coolant level and temp gauge, and what to do if she overheats. Meanwhile, the Check Engine light is on because the O2 sensor has gone out, and now there is a squealing sound which I know means a bad belt somewhere. And the brakes are getting soft, too. I was quoted over $1800 for the head gasket repair and O2 sensor which entails taking out the engine, fixing it, and putting it back in. I’ve already had to replace two tires (and on an AWD, you have to have all tires matching -- come to find out, they have discontinued this tire so I got two of the last new ones in existence). This “free” car has already required over $1000 in work. And it’s all I’ve got so I have to do what I can to make sure she keeps going. Now, I don’t know if I’ve talked about this, before, but I do have a spiritual side to me. It’s not conventional by any means. I don’t subscribe to any one religion. But I always knew I was a natural healer (laying on of hands, energy work) and came from a long line of witches (going back to my Pictish ancestors and Native American roots; my great-great-grandfather was a medicine man). I used to do this for as long as I can remember, drawn to people in pain and using something inside me to take it away and make them better. I never knew there was a name for it, until one day someone saw me working on a friend’s migraine and asked, “Where did you learn Reiki?” My reply was, “What’s ‘Reiki?’” I had a very dark period in my life about 15 years or so ago where I shut down, though, withdrew into myself, because I was so depressed and suffering from undiagnosed PTSD and anxiety/panic disorder. I was so afraid I would pass my sickness on to someone else, so I stopped healing. Following the end of my marriage in 2010 and being on my own for the first time in my life, I went through several surgeries and was put on different medications for various ailments, some of which nearly killed me. I also had a few TIAs (mini-strokes). The only thing keeping me from ending my life was knowing my cats needed me around to care for them. Also, I found out my mother was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s but then six months later during a follow-up, the doctors at U of M Ann Arbor said, “It’s not Alzheimer’s, we don’t know what it is.” (Note: based on her behavior, it may be Vascular Dementia but that can’t be diagnosed until after death -- so for now, we just know it’s dementia.) And then right before Christmas 2017, I got fed up with the repeating cycle of being used and abused by my sister, prompting me to cut ties with her, and my eldest niece told me to go fuck myself, leaving me pretty much on my own. Well, Life has a way of making things fall into place whether you like it or not. After all the shit I was going through with the TIAs and getting my cholesterol under control (I’ve put myself on a low-carb diet), my chiropractor told me out of the blue, “You should go into Reiki.” Damn, there’s that word, again... He said there was a guy named Adam, a massage therapist and Reiki Master, who rented space from him twice a week; I should talk to him. Well, Adam was never in when I would go for my appointments. One day, my friend Keith who volunteers at the local Gilda’s Club said I should look into their free workshops for yoga, meditation, and tai chi. I figured this might be good to help with my stress levels, at the very least, so I checked their calendar -- and there was someone offering free Reiki at the end of the month. I went in and immediately felt something happen, just being in the room with this woman. It was like being inside a Tesla coil. I began telling her things -- about her, like her childhood, etc, that she confirmed. And I began to cry. Not out of sadness but release. She said when I walked into the room I had an entourage of spirits with me -- guides, angels, light beings -- more than she’d ever seen, before. She got me on the table and while she never once actually touched me, I could feel pain, like she was physically pulling on me. What she was doing was pulling things out of me. She found his large cord attached at my solar plexus chakra and said, “You are attached to past trauma.” Oh, yes...yes, indeed. I told her to cut the cord and I felt it. It made me cry out, it hurt so much, but then afterward...I felt different. Something had changed.  A week or so later, I went to my next chiropractic appointment, and when I stepped out of the exam room, I turned and saw this young man standing in the hall, looking right at me. I just stopped and said, “You’re Adam.” He said yes. “You’re a Reiki Master.” He said yes. “We need to talk,” I said. And he showed me into his room, where we spent an hour talking. I noticed he seemed nervous. He said, “I’m always nervous in the presence of a great healer.” Who, me? He said he could ‘feel’ my energy. He then recommended I go to Jodi, the Reiki Master who taught him. I found her place of business online and saw that they did monthly “Open Reiki Shares” where people just get together and work on each other in a group, for free. One of these sessions was coming up. I decided to go and see what it was about. What happened that day...it was incredible. Not only was I healing but I was tapping into the minds of these other people, seeing what they were seeing. Then they got me on the table and the Master seated at my head began to shake. She said, “You’re not an Old Soul -- you’re ancient, and you come from a place across the universe.” Well, I already knew that...but no one else had ever acknowledged it, until that moment. Someone picked up on the fact that I’m a writer, and then another Master said, “She is a Storyteller, and she is going to help others with her words.” Cryptic! They also said they saw a mass of spirits around me, and one of them said that there was a guide who had yet to reveal itself to me but would do so soon. I signed up that day to take Jodi’s Reiki I & II course. When the time came, I found myself learning things I already knew, things I already did, and I understood after all these years why people thought I knew Reiki -- because I had been doing it, all along. Even my chiropractor, who is an empath and a healer, sensed it in me. During the attunement, as I had my eyes closed, I “saw” a dragon look down over my head at me while Jodi was behind me. I had been told she had a Dragon guide, so I figured that was him. I even looked up and said, “Hello!” I cannot begin to describe how it felt to be attuned, and how I have felt ever since. I called my friend Seth, a massage therapist and a powerful healer in her own right who is studying shamanism, and she said it sounded like I was tripping. I was seeing everything in such sharp focus, hearing things, aware on so many levels. Jodi had asked me if I experienced anything during the attunement and I mentioned seeing her dragon. She just grinned and said no, he was my Dragon. Now, please note: in the late 90′s, I attended a drumming circle class where we all went on an inner journey to meet different spirit guides, and the one that appeared to me was a Phoenix. Back then, I figured he represented that part of me that was always getting burned up and somehow rising from the ashes. I even got a tattoo of the bird on my back. Well, now I have a Phoenix and a Dragon -- in Chinese, these are the balance of Yin and Yang. Coincidentally, my first tattoo was a yin-yang, and one of the first rings I ever bought was a yin-yang with the OM symbol on either side. It would also explain why, after being attuned, I had a sudden craving for Chinese food... I have since learned the purpose of these guides. The Phoenix is used in long-distance healing when I send Reiki out to others, and the Dragon protects me while I do my work. He will also “encase” me or other people in eggs of protection. The Phoenix takes his duties very seriously, while the Dragon...is a bit of a diva. He’s also a shape-shifter because I’ve seen him in full reptilian form and in human form with wings. I have many other animal totems but these two are connected to my healing abilities and now that I’ve come back to that aspect of who I am, I find that they represent the dual sides of me -- Two-Spirit. The Phoenix is still me as I reinvent myself, refusing to be destroyed. I used to be so timid and when I screamed in anger I sounded like a wounded animal; now when I’m angry, my Dragon roars through me, refusing to take shit from anyone.  Life has changed for me so much since this all happened. We are in a time of Awakening and Transition, and I’m seeing it all around me even as I, myself, am going through it. I have people asking for my help -- “Please send me Reiki!” from all over. And I do. I’ve been using it on my cats. I’ve used it on myself. It’s incredible. I have been changing the vibration in my home, making it brighter, more colorful, inspirational. I have been finding old jewelry and wearing it (that’s the Dragon, show-off that he is with his bling!). I have been pushing myself out of my comfort zone and spending more time at Gilda’s, where I hope to offer free Reiki once a month to those who need it. I am also hoping to get a portable massage table so I can do Reiki housecalls. I’ve even joined a local group of professional writers that gets together once a month. I have started to wean off of one of my medications (Klonopin) which has been rough but I knew I had to stop when I began to notice an occurrence of bad side effects and found that it could do a lot of long-term damage to other parts of my body. I am doing meditation, now, which helps.  I am also preparing to set up a Patreon in order to fund my writing so I can get my first novel out -- somewhat autobiographical, it has been years in the works and deals with surviving narcissists and finding one’s path in life, it’s called The Dragon in the Garden. (I came up with the title ages ago; little did I know...) I have a sequel plotted, and then another book set in New Orleans with different characters. All of these are mine, not ghostwritten, but I can’t use my own name because two other authors have published under variations, so I’ve come up with something else that will serve.  Bit by bit, things are falling into place. But you know the most important part of all of this? I am not stressing out, anymore. I have decided to live in the moment, and see anything ahead of me is positive. Yes, I am concerned about the state of the planet, about the children in concentration camps, about the madman running the country...I am aware. My head is not in the sand nor in the stars. I remain a realist. But I can do that and focus my energy on making things happen for the better. I am being the change I wish to see in the world. I am putting out what I want to receive; instead of calling negativity to me, I am sending out positive energy. I cannot deny the results, the changes that have happened since I started to do this. It’s good. Very good. Recently, I volunteered to make a journey to Mississippi, driving a rental car down to the Gulf of Mexico and back in three days (18 hours driving down, 21 hours driving back), to rescue some kittens that were about to be abandoned and bring them to a local foster group. I saw this as an opportunity to do a Medicine Walk/Spirit Journey. I saw so many signs along the way, received messages, and learned things about myself. I had my eyes opened to people around me, those who would deceive and manipulate. And I had a lot of time to think. I discovered new levels of forgiveness within me, and how to release what is no longer of use or importance. It makes things so much better, so much simpler. I have wasted too many years worrying about stuff and nonsense. 

Oh, I still have limitations -- physical and mental. As my Reiki Masters have all told me, every healer is damaged in some way. I envision myself as a work of kintsugi, the Japanese art of putting broken pottery back together with gold. I am not perfect and never will claim to be. But I know that I am One with the Divine, Source, Creator Energy, God/Goddess/All That Is. I am on the right path -- and maybe I always was. I just had to go through some dark and scary places along the way in order to be where I am, now.  Namaste!

[mayphoenix]

You [Taron] kept saying “one more for me, one more for me.” It wasn’t even in the script, those kisses.  - Richard Madden

Bonus:

[mayphoenix]

Is it me, or does Eddie Izzard often bear a striking resemblance to Malcolm McDowall from this film?

A Clockwork Orange, 1971, Stanley Kubrick

[mayphoenix]

Oh, Elton. Whoever made you feel ugly as a child, whoever put you down and told you that you weren’t good enough, was wrong. Your hands have made some of the most beautiful music, ever. You gave me the soundtrack of my life. I hope you know now how much you are loved.

elT0n

[mayphoenix]

Remember it clearly. Still miss you, Freddie. 

“You bastards! You stole the show!” -an actual quote by Elton John about Queen’s Live Aid performance

Happy Live Aid Day!

[mayphoenix]

As soon as he said those words I screamed so loud my cats scattered in every direction. And then he shows up and wants pancakes again...with bananas ad chocolate chips...hm...sensing a pattern, here...

McDanno - Pancake coding (acc. to Urban Dictionary)

[mayphoenix]

[mayphoenix]

Go, Misha.

😮😮😮

[mayphoenix]

I forgave my father -- not for him, but for me. I forgave my grandmother as she lay in her casket, for calling me and my aunt liars and not believing her son was (is) a monster. I forgave my ex who gaslighted and abused me for over 20 years. I forgave my sister again and again and again, and I still do, but I refuse to have anything to do with her now because I had to break the cycle. I forgave my mother, and she and I have the best relationship, now...but dementia is fast pulling her away from me, and soon I will lose her completely.  I also forgave myself.

you don’t have to forgive someone just because they said they were sorry. not forgiving is your choice and it doesn’t make you a bad person. it’s the other person’s choice to still be sorry when and if you do decide to forgive them.

[mayphoenix]

This is so beautifully researched, I needed to reblog.

A Captain America: the First Avenger Timeline for Fic Writers

(I’m so sorry I erased the original post I’M SO SORRY! You can read this without the visual aids on AO3.)

March 10, 1917 - James Buchanan Barnes is born, and we were all officially fucked.

July 4, 1918 - Steven Grant Rogers is born, and somewhere in Brooklyn Bucky’s mother wept …

June, 1924 - Steve’s mother is bedridden from illness associated with Tuberculosis.

September, 1930 - 12-year old Steve and 13-year old Bucky meet for the first time in Hell’s Kitchen, where Bucky scares off bullies trying to steal Steve’s money. What were they doing in Hell’s Kitchen? No one knows. Steve tells Bucky he’s been living in the orphanage ‘on 8th’ since his mother’s death. Which is odd since Bucky was apparently at her funeral when they’re both legal adults in a flashback scene from the Winter Soldier. For the purpose of this timeline, info from the movies will take precedent over info from the various tie-ins. Meaning Sarah Rogers is basically Schrödinger’s Ma for the next 6 years.

Keep reading

[mayphoenix]

If $1200 suddenly appears in my bank account, there’s going to be a government investigation.

this is the text of good fortune, reblog in 60 seconds and $1200 will spontaneously materialize in your bank account🙏🙌💪🏻😤

[mayphoenix]

THE RENT BOY COMMENT THOUGH

[mayphoenix]

[mayphoenix]

The fact that Sherlock wasn’t even inviting John on cases in TBB is amazing to me because John is so useless otherwise. John has no job. He complains when he has to go shopping. He’s not even helpful in any way to Sherlock at this point, but Sherlock enjoys having him around so much that he gives him money and discourages him from being employed while doing cases behind his back. Why was he even looking for a flatmate?

[mayphoenix]

I cannot wait for this.

There are moments in a rock star’s life that define who he is. Where there was no darkness, there was no you. And it’s going to be a wild ride.

— Rocketman (2019) dir. Dexter Fletcher

[mayphoenix]

So, just an update. I’m still around, I still look at tumblr, but I’ve been consumed by Real Life. Like, dealing with the fact that my mother was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s a year ago but now the team of doctors at U of M says it’s not Alzheimer’s -- they don’t know what it is. It will be one of those things they won’t determine until she’s dead and they can autopsy, but suffice to say she does have many of the Alzheimer’s symptoms so something is definitely wrong in her brain. And she is 73 but looks 93 and could blow away in a stiff breeze. I will enjoy every moment I can have with her but I know I have to start preparing myself to say goodbye -- depending on which goes first, her mind or her life. I am not being pessimistic, I am being realistic. I have friends who have been through this so I know what to expect. It doesn’t make it any easier, though. After eight years in the same apartment, somehow I got bed bugs. It is not an infestation, but I started fighting them as soon as I saw one in my bedroom on the first day of August. Dumped my box springs for a steel-framed platform, but my mattress is okay. I am happy to report that I have not seen another in that room in two months. I also had them in my living room sofa, which went out last month. I got a metal-frame futon, now. I’ve been doing a lot of laundry (high heat) which has run up my electric bill. There is food-grade diatomaceous earth scattered all over my house, all along the baseboards and around the feet of every piece of furniture. I have a daily routine of inspecting every inch of my home with a high-powered flashlight. I spray myself down with 91% rubbing alcohol several times a day. Two weeks ago, I saw a single bug staggering across the carpet and I doused it. I check myself every day before I leave home and I even have taken to inspecting the places where I’m going to be spending any time sitting down (because they are hitchhikers and can climb on you in movie theaters, waiting rooms, hospitals, and of course hotels). The upside to this: it motivated me to declutter my home (it’s not filthy, I just have a lot of stuff) and organize better. I should hire myself out as a bed bug hunter because I have done so much research about these fuckers that I know where to look and what to look for. The real mystery is in how I came to have them because I have had three visitors in the past year (and I know for certain that two of them do not have bugs), and have stayed away from home three times (including two overnight visits to the ER). And the other rental unit in the building was inspected but came up clean. I am going to continue my battle into the winter months. This has become my way of life, now, and I am not going to let these little bloodsuckers win. The funny thing about this is that I found myself in need of a break from the stress brought on by trying to meet the deadlines for all the professional ghostwriting I’ve been doing...and I wound up with more depression over the bed bugs and other issues that kept me at a constant state of high anxiety. My medications had to be doubled, too. I was hoping to relax and do a little writing on my own books but that never happened. Now, I have to get back to ghostwriting because I have collections agencies breathing down my neck and debts to pay.  And do not get me started on the whole Kavanaugh issue -- I’ve been having horrible triggers to my own past and history as a sexual assault survivor. If nothing else, is has made me angrier. You won’t like me when I’m angry.... At least I have my fandoms to give me escape, and friends who know how to distract me. If you’re one of them reading this, now? Thank you, and I love you. 

[mayphoenix]

I’m 51 and I never stop learning and changing. I am trying to be a better person every day, compared to the one I was a year, five years, 20 years ago.