I drove over to Van’s credit union, but when I put his card in and went through the whole transaction, all I got was the message: “Cardholder Unauthorized”. I tried it again; same message. What, does it have fingerprint sensors now? Invisible retinal scanners? I probably pressed the wrong button. I should have pressed the one that said, “Evil Mothers Attempting to Embezzle From Their Son’s Account”. Needless to say, I was left to my own devices, and the cash in my own wallet, which - in my petty poutiness - I chose to spend on myself.

Like Gandhi would, I bought powdered hair dye and ion conditioner at the beauty supply store, hucked over to Star Video and rented the first season of Reno 911 (never seen it, but it looks funny), and then toodled over to WalMart where I bought expensive red hair shampoo (which looks so exactly like blood I think it just may be - after all, they sell animal placenta at the beauty supply store and I’m not joking) and some cheap knockoff shampoo and conditioner for the rest of the family. Oh, and also some delicious oil pastels for me, and a cunning pencil pouch to put them in. Yesterday I cut perfectly good, clean, white paper into sections to fit into my leather daytimer - just like the one Gandhi carried - and ripped all the calendar and “goals” pages out of it because I will never need those things again in my life, to create an awesome sketch journal.

[note: I KNOW Gandhi was an hindu and would never have a leather daytimer, okay? Don’t get all earnest on me. Although I wonder what his sandals were made of.]

On the way home I tried not to notice the smoke billowing from my car, where infinitesimal drops of oil plop at regular intervals onto the big hot pipe thingy underneath, and scare other drivers. Even the guy in the rusted white Suzuki pickup pumping black smoke out of the back kept his distance. Someday we’ll get this car fixed, when we get to heaven.

On the way home I also thought about how upsetting it is to be unblogrolled by someone, even if you don’t like them very much, which is what happened to me today. It’s very, very rejecting and hurtful, and I say… (expletive deleted by author) ‘em. Just kidding (kind of). This made me think of the blogging community, the need to be cool, and the need to be informative, while at the same time funny and moreover, poignant, and how it’s just impossible to please all of the people all of the time. Bottom line, you simply have to be yourself. It’s such a fragile little ecosystem we’re part of, and today I feel like the fragilest (it is TOO a word) of us all. So I grasp my sweaty fistful of bloggy buddies with tender affection. Every time somebody tells me they like me I swoon and purr. Pa-the-tic, I know. And this is my second post today, which tells you I’m neglecting things I really need to be doing. Sigh. Gotta eat some food and pick up the kids. Love you all… xo

Duh, of course I ignored the fact that I’ve disenblogrolled people myself, due to inactivity or because they unblogrolled me. Grrr. I’m sorry if I’ve hurt anyone’s feelings. In that case, (expletive deleted by author) me.

Oh I love these quiet mornings. Everybody’s in their proper place and all’s well with the world. No, that’s not true. All is not well with the world. But at least it is in my tiny little sphere. And now I have guilt.

Yesterday, in the spirit of Gandhi - or WWJD? - I cleaned out oodles of dressers and closets and cabinets and tossed extra and/or unwanted items in giveaway bags and trash cans. I’m determined to clean up and clean out, part of walking my new mountain path. I thought about what’s important to me, and determined that I want my house to reflect and support art, reading, and writing. Everything else - as long as my family doesn’t object - is going going gone. There’s a lot of stuff: I actually had a drawer dedicated only to candle votive holders. Seriously. So what about it? GONE. This cleaning out is a big deal for me, as shopping is high on my list of addictions. It just makes me so darn happy. So, in addition to simplifying, I’m breaking an addiction, which is pretty cool, albeit painful. To save even more money, I’ve decided to grow my hair out and use henna to color it instead of Herbal Essence. I’ll let you know how that goes. It may be a disaster. In case you’re wondering, I plan on stopping far short of sitting crosslegged on a straw pallet in a loincloth (because my goal is loving people, not scaring the crap out of them) - but I have to do something; I want to make changes that seem accessible and I’ll be experimenting over the next few… well… my lifetime, I guess.

I will keep my armpits shaved. And my toes.

And in the spirit of Gandhi - or WWJD? - and with full knowledge that I’m blatantly contradicting myself, today I’m taking my son Van’s ATM card and going shopping! Woohoo! Shopping with somebody else’s card! Woohoo! He called yesterday from training camp and asked for a care package. He started with only two items, and by the end of our conversation the list had burgeoned to the point that I’m going to have to hire a cargo plane to carry everything. I could hear his buddies in the background asking for stuff, too. At least Van is still cheerfully materialistic, the sweetie.

For dinner, we’re having dog stew, as my labs are yelping like seals in their kennel out back, and I want to kill them. WWJD? indeed. This will also be a money-saver.

@ Isn’t what’s happening with New Orleans surreal? Floridians and other coastal and island folk have dealt with hurricanes for ages, but this one seems different somehow. Maybe because it’s aimed at such a colorful and historically significant city. I don’t know. I’m in this “end of days” mode. I just watched the miniseries Revelations on DVD; it was well done but the story was really weak. Maybe they should have stuck to the bible story, since it’s a ton more interesting. Anyway, the show turned my mind to how disastrous things seem now, what with nature rising up and rebelling and all those fingers hovering over all those buttons with the aim of destroying one another. You know, I’m getting the idea that there really are evil people in this world. Hmm.

I learned - from the movie What The Bleep Do We Know? - that our cells have receptors, and these receive chains of proteins called peptides. Peptides are little emotion chains, and if we feed our cells crappy attitudes and hatred, our cells are going to be damaged. When these damaged cells split into new cells, the new cells are also damaged. After enough time, none of our cells would be able to receive nourishment (I think I’m getting all that right). Is it possible that with a steady diet of murderous and otherwise dark thoughts, a person can recreate himself into a truly evil body? I can’t deny that there are people who seem to have no shred of humanity in them. My hope is in the end they would be healed, but what if they don’t want to be? What then? Yikes. I’m getting in over my head, or at least, out of my peaceful little sphere.

I guess, if I can do something about it, great. If not, I need to leave it alone and paint something. Peace to you all this morning! Pray for Louisianans! xo