Sunday, May 20, 2007

Where The Hell Have I Been?


Ok, so there I was working feverishly on new stuff, so what the hell happened? Well among starting a new business and taking classes 6 days a week both of my computers crashed so hard that they both needed completely new hard drives! Grumble, grumble…
So having NOT backed my work up like an idiot I am left with doo doo on my face (silly me).

Oh well, it’s a DO OVER! I still have massive classes but I am getting a break next week so I’ll see you back here with a new article about….ah, but that would be telling now wouldn't it…

Saturday, January 20, 2007

Working feverishly, back soon!


I swear... no, really...just ask me!
(Why do you ask?)

Untill then you'll have to be dazzled by the fantastically beautiful contenance of Mz. Lollobrigida, don't know why really, but I guess it may be because she looks a lot like my dear departed momma who would have turned 62 on New Years Eve !

Ciao bella's,

Spooks

Sunday, December 31, 2006

Happy New Year!


Well, another year is coming to an end, and we have seen many changes in the world. I too have experienced many changes this year.

I have been away from my blog for several weeks due to some of these changes and have missed it (and you) greatly. I have so much to share with you in the New Year, some are the resolutions I’ve made for the infancy of the coming year, but most are observations I’ve made upon reflection of this past year.

Until then, I wish you all the very best of New Years!
Love,
Spooks

Saturday, November 04, 2006

The Worry Spot



I have a worry spot on the side of my face. It’s been there for the better part of eight months. I worry it the same way a neurotic bird plucks its own feathers out, or an anxious dog licks and picks it’s hunches, until it has created an oozing red wound.

Well, mine’s not oozing, but it is a bit on the reddish side.

I’m not sure when it started precisely, although it seems to me, that there was once a small blemish there, before that is, I ever lay a nervous finger to it.

I handle stress a bit differently now, that is, differently than before the accident that thwaped my brains onto the pavement, snapping and rearranging the direction of the receptors in the old bean cavity.

Before the accident, I could shrug off most stressors, like water off a Blue Footed Booby’s butt, but now I tend to tear up and blubber like a an over stimulated Betsy Wetsy doll.

The literature I’ve read on the subject of TBI or “traumatic brain injury” has lay to rest my fear that I’m not “normal”, I’m normal enough for a person recovering from TBI; that is to say, it’s normal for a person to run the full gamut from major to minor personality changes, after a shocking sha-bonking to the noggin.

This in mind, I’m grateful that I haven’t turned into an angry shrew or a babbling idiot; although I did go through a brief, two week stint of nervous psycho-babble for which everyone was relieved, lasted not one day longer.

Anyway, this worry spot has been driving me crazy lately, for it seems that every time it comes close to healing completely and dissolving back into a smooth unmarred complexion, I begin to worry it again. It's like an unconsciouse conscious action, I don’t know how else to put it, I’m aware of what is going on, yet at the same time, it’s like being in a trance, and it happens whenever I'm feeling a little stressed or overwhelmed.

First, my finger runs lightly over the top of it, then, finding it a little rougher than the surrounding skin, I search out and find the purchase of an edge, then, ever so slightly, I begin to worry it. Now I do have a worry stone that I like to caress with my thumb, but this seems to give me more satisfaction some how; and I can’t help but wonder if the psychology of this scab picking has something to say about my feelings of vulnerability, and my unwillingness to close myself off again to the tough turtle shell of my former self.

It might just be that I actually like myself better, now that I have become somewhat softer and squishier as far as my emotions are concerned. I do feel a certain freedom that I never felt before and my close friends have remarked on the fact that I was like an impermeable rock before, full of an over abundance of strength that never seemed to wane, and they found it at times unnerving and even frightening.

I can see how they would feel that way, I’ve felt that way about my father many times, and it’s he whom I’m sure I got trait of stoicism from. I both admired and hated it in him when I was a child, I never felt perfect enough when I was around him, no, and far from it.

So, perhaps this incessant and silly little mark upon my otherwise clear complexion is an indication of my state of being, and a small rebellion against the stridence for impossible perfection.

In any case, blemished or not, I am a happier freer person, now that the masonry of my former countenance, having fallen into a zillion little pieces, are now scrambling themselves into some sort of new working order, and so, are dispelling with old patterns that have little or nothing to do with the survival of my most basic self, I haven’t the energy for keeping that stony façade up anymore.

So now I pick on occasion, stupid habit true. I guess it’s my own little perverse take on thumb sucking or hair twirling, nothing I'd want to grow to accustomed to mind you, and I’m sure I’ll grow out of it soon.
As soon as I grown accustomed to my new me.

Friday, October 27, 2006

A Warning From An Ebay Seller This Halloween!


I love Ebay, and had some great success last year selling stuff and making some really good cash too, but sometimes you just gotta say "What the hell are they thinking"! I was looking at some of the crap being sold as "haunted" and came across this little guide written by another Ebay seller, enjoy....


Haunted and Cursed Items - The Hottest Scam Going

It's a scam, folks!


By: arwenn61 ( 161 )
475 out of 594 people found this guide helpful.
Guide viewed: 19550 times Tags: haunted ghosts curses cursed paranormal

If you do a search on "haunted" or "cursed" items, you will see a preponderance of these sales. One seller's grandmother apparently had a terrible string of bad luck since every item she is selling is cursed or haunted.
Or check out the "haunted" tarot deck blessed by a coven of 30 witches? A few facts might help us see the problems here. A coven is comprised of thirteen members. A coven doesn't bless tarot decks and sell them. I am a Wiccan High Priestess with over 25 years experience in the Craft of Wicca. These people are out to steal your money. This is a deck that you can buy NEW for under $25 dollars yet they want you to spend 135$??? Don't be taken in by this New Age con game.
Do you believe in ghosts? I do. I have had very real experiences with disenfranchised spirits. Please don't think that just because someone tells you something is haunted that it is. Use your brains, gang. If we cut this trend off at the knees by not buying and by sending notes to the seller that we know they are frauds, we can make Ebay a much better place.
Join me in a crusade to rid Ebay of frauds and cons.
Do your part. Don't buy. Do question.


And now for some laughs!
Genuine Monkey paw legal to own No Reserve !!!

HAUNTED MAGICAL Lot Of 9 Gypsy Witch WEALTH Pennies
$$$--- ENCHANTED OLD-WORLD POWERFUL WEALTH SPELL ---$$$


Pieces of Glass (BROKEN) HALLOWEEN HAUNTED! Weird!
I keep throwing it away and it keeps COMING BACK!!


A ((REAL DEAL)) HAUNTED (Condominium / Home) - FOR SALE
Once In A Lifetime Deal ((GHOSTS)) A Bank Loan - TO BUY
$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$
Is it just me, or would you sell any one of these items if they truly did what they say they do?
Ok, with the exception of the poor monkeys paw, that has to go...

Tuesday, October 24, 2006

The Nameless Vampire



About twenty years ago I knew a woman who could walk into a room and empty the energy from every human within her reach in a matter of minutes.

I don’t know how she targeted her “friends” exactly, and I don’t recall where I first met her; I only remember that she started coming around my house at least once a week, unannounced and always, always with a gift for me, or rather an offering, which is truly what it felt like. They were mostly small things like decorative lights or a fancy bar of soap that she would say with slight coyness in a shy thin voice, made her think of me.

She seemed somewhat apologetic about showing up the way that she did, as if it were a rather unpleasant task she needed to put me through, but never the less one she felt compelled to do.

She was a strange and uncomfortable woman to be around, she looked to be about forty eight but claimed to be only thirty six, and why she chose to attempt a relationship of sorts with a twenty four year old, who had shown no interest in her whatsoever, I simply couldn’t understand.

She was rather skinny with a sallow complexion, dull eyes, and her hair was a bit on the frizzy and scraggly side with a lifeless washed out nondescript color, and she carried herself in a bowed self protected posture. It would be fair to say that I felt sorry for her, and would like to have helped her in some way, but I really couldn’t stand to be near her.

The most odd thing about her showing up in the first place was that I don’t ever recall telling her where I lived, nor had I given an invitation, and as I already stated I couldn’t even remember having met the woman before she showed up at my door, token in hand.
Hell, I rarely remembered her name correctly (was it Sherri, Sharon, Wendy?) I didn’t consider her a friend, and I found her to be a tremendously awful bore.

I felt myself cringing with annoyance, and something akin to horror whenever she presented herself and her little offering of the week at my door, but I always opened it for her and invited her in, she seemed so pathetic and downtrodden that I couldn’t make myself tell her to go away, which is what I felt near desperation in the back of my skull to do!

I was young and could be a real wimp that way, I’d been hearing the words “You’re too nice” my entire life, meaning that I was a pushover, which I was, so telling her to get the hell away from me was not something I felt I could do without a tangible reason, after all my reasons for wanting her to take a permanent hike, seemed so damned impalpable, and what would I say to her, “You’re a nice person, thanks for the string of chili pepper lights and the lavender soap, but I can’t stand to be near you, so would you please bugger off "? No, far to crass for me at the time, but there had to be some way to make her want to go, hmmm.

In the mean time (rudeness not being an option), I put up with her visits for several months and started to notice an interesting phenomena, whenever she came over, I always ended our visit in an exhausted and drained state, while she seemed to invigorate, stand straighter and even look younger, with bright eyes, pink cheeks and a lilt in her now quite sing-songy voice! She even began to seem more interesting, less boorish, what the hell was going on here?

She would look over at me with her now shining squirrel eyes, inquisitive and sparklingly effuse “Well, I’ve taken up enough of your time, I’ll get out of your hair now, besides you look tired!” No shit I looked tired! Seriously, I could barely stand up by the end of one of her visits, when I looked in the mirror the pallid creature staring back at me looked older somehow and worn out!

Then one day, to my good fortune, she happened by while I was having a few friends over for Sunday brunch. There was plenty of food, and she looked longingly over towards the tasty spread, steam curling off of the freshly brewed coffee and hot currant/orange zest scones that I had just taken out of the oven two minutes prior, lending a mouthwatering aroma that begged for butter and honey.

“Why don’t you join us, there’s plenty, we’d love to have you?” came a robust voice
“Who said that?” I wondered, “and is it to late to catch it and cram it back down their impudent throat?” but before I could fully register the question, the answer was thrust upon me
“Are you sure?” came the now familiar anemic tone “I wouldn’t want to intrude on your beautiful party”
“Nonsense,” came the other voice I had now identified as my friend Michael “let me pour you a cup of coffee” he beamed, in that nicely modulated, deeply confident, rocket scientist manner of his.

I adored my new friend Michael he was one of the kindest hearted and most interesting people I knew at the time. We met at mutual friends party a few months earlier and had become fast friends. We shared many of the same interests in literature, art and music, he was quite a snappy salsa dancer too, and dragged me out kicking and screaming at least once a month to “samba down” with him.

And now, I wanted to kill him.

So in she came, luckily Michael reached his hand over and said “Names Michael, and you must be_____” Oh geez, what is her damned name? Just as I was about to put my foot in deep doo-doo, she took his hand and filled in the blank herself, which was a good thing, because as usual, I really wasn’t sure what it was (I’m still not).

We showed her in and introduced her to the rest of the merry band of mates: Jana, Terry, Vince and Ted, then sat down to eat.

It wasn’t long before I noticed the quiet that had consumed the formerly boisterous and sunny crew, and then the yawning contest started along with uncomfortable forced chuckles at how “contagious” yawning is. This went on for a good fifteen minutes before we just fell silent nibbling at our Sherried eggs and scones, feigning interest in continuing the late morning festivities.

Now this was very interesting to me, it wasn’t just me she was affecting, I was getting a strangely clear picture that this was something her presence did to many people, and as I was making this private observation I was closely watching the change come over her, how her eyes altered from dull and weary to lustrous and aware, her cheeks flushing and her thin dry lips even appeared to flesh out with a youthful pout. Yes, this woman was blossoming before my eyes, in fact she seemed to be fulgurating with quite a lively luminescence now, even as the rest of us seemed destined for an early nap, and brunch wasn’t even over yet!

It occurred to me then that her little gifts were meant to be more of a surreptitious trade, and that she indeed knew the effect she had on others, and as such, felt an obligation to keep an even score card, was my conjecture. This however felt more akin to trading glass beads for beaver skins with Native Americans, and I suddenly felt dirty and complicit as if I’d accepted a cheap bribe.

Suddenly she popped up like a weasel and said that she had to go now, that she had forgotten a previous engagement and was going to be late. We nodded our goodbyes, and smiled weakly as she bounced out the same door she had meekly entered a scant thirty minutes before!

“What the hell was that, and how do you know her?” asked Terry.
“Holy shit,” said John “can we never let that person back into this house, please?”
“Yeah” agreed Ted “what a parasite!”
Jana could only sit there like a melting pudding pop, staring blandly at her nearly full brunch plate.

Finally my friend Michael put in his two and a half cents “I think that was the most pathetic creature I have ever seen” he said “and Tedly, you’re not far off about her being a parasite, an energy vampire is what I think I’d call her, and Tracy, I am so sorry for speaking out of turn and inviting her in, where on earth did you find her?”

I told them my story of how I couldn’t remember having met her before she showed up at the door, and how she seemed to get younger like a modern day Bathory bathing in the blood of young virgins, I may not have been a virgin anymore but I surely felt drained and bloodless after a visit from what’s her name.

“That is seriously creepy.” said Ted.
"Should we hang garlic on the doors or something?” snorted John “I’ll go to the market right now if you want.”
Janna looked up and in a deadly serious tone added “Seriously Tracy, you need to make her leave you alone, it’s not healthy for you.”

To which we all agreed.

About a week later she came to the door, looking every bit the waif, only this time I was ready for her. I opened the door and said “ I can no longer accept your gifts anymore, I can’t afford the energy loss.” To which she replied “That’s ok, I knew it couldn’t last much longer, and you’ve been very kind to me” then she added something that made the gooseflesh appear on my arms “You know, you lasted much longer than any of the others.”
I still think of her from time to time and I wonder what became of her, but I still can’t remember her name…

Wednesday, October 04, 2006

Svengali parasites









He is the oily master of enchantment, all slick and condescending, a constant tattoo beating his self proclaimed superiority, yet whenever his young prey try to break off from him he becomes as docile and “needy” as a lamb, begging her to stay in a sad pleading puppy-dog tone, that quickly turns to to scorn as he demands “how you can be so cruel”, but its not a question, its an admonition …

Surley you’ve seen the mismatched pairing of a wide eyed young niave talent and the often much older “Stick with me kid and I’ll make you a star” grotesquery with his silver tounge and mercurial temper? They leave a thick slime trail as they make their unctuous way across the room promoting their newest and brightest discovery.

Although it is true that many of these “mentor types” are quite good at sniffing out the next great act and propelling them into stardom (like Sonny Bono) there are many more petty promoters out to scabing a living off of their baby protégé, their "Trilby" as it were.

This always brings to mind the estranged husband of 1980 playmate of the year Dorothy Stratton, Paul Sider. Snider “discovered” the sweet teenager working in a “Dairy Queen” in 1976 in Vacouver B.C. and was struck imeadiately by her innocent beauty that was so palpable you would swear there were bluebirds and butterflies in the air around her. He wasted no time in taking advantage of her youth and complete niavete.

Heff recognizing the cheap hustler for what he was, encouraged the gorgeous young up-and-comer to ditch that jerk, and was heard to call him a “hustler and a pimp”. Snider tried to take all the credit for Dorothy’s success and was royally aggitated that no one was willing to give him his “Props”.

Sadly this slick willy ended the life this sweet girl who had so much promise in the most horrific manner; taking a shotgun to her lovely face, and taking charge once more, he squeezed the trigger and obliterated both her beautiful visage and the kiss of stardom that had only just begun to bloom upon her perfect cheeks…