T Minus 30

This blog will self destruct

Fin

Well, here it is. Exactly one year from the day I learned about pussy, which inspired me to begin this daily venture. I haven't made any money from it yet though. Yet, I say. But I did make some new friends, as well as lost a few, and perhaps even gained a little more closeness and respect from people I already know.
And I had a great time.

So here, for the last time, is what I learned today.

I'm still freaked out by that tape in my pocket thing the other day. What does it mean, and how did it get there? I'm still not entirely sure, so I went to see my Tarot card reading friend, who is also one of my ultra confidants. I just had to see what she thought about it. She knows I don't really believe in card reading, and it kinda creeps me out, but after a bout of begging, I let her pull a few cards for me.

I got "The Star", the "Seven of Swords," and a "Cups" card. She said what she gets out of this combination is that I need to be careful and to take care of myself, that someone is watching over me, and that I'm a messenger from the heavens to the earth.

I think I know what she means.

Then about 30 minutes later, the woman cutting my hair said something to me about Pluto moving into Sagittarius this coming September, which is a time for coming into my own and defining myself. And it means I need to take control of my life.

Let me tell you, I don't believe in any of this shit, but I'm pretty amazed at how perfectly all this stinky stuff describes what's going on with me. Yeah, I know, I took that psychology class too, and I know how easy it is to believe what you hear about yourself. But fuck, some unseen force put that tape in my pocket, and I'm starting to believe anything and everything is possible.

Oh, and I also learned today about an artist who had an 8 inch piece of her skin removed so she could cover a plastic gun with it and make a "skin gun." See it yourself here.

So that's it for today, but I have a few last overall lessons I'd like to share before I go.

-Don't try to do a daily blog. It's fun, but it's difficult, irritating, and nearly impossible.
-Pay attention. Just try it.
-Listen to your gut. It knows more than you do.
-If you ever get a feeling like you should do something, do it. Don't ignore those little thoughts that run through your head. Except of course, if murder is involved.
-Leave before you say too much. That's it.

Heal Thyself

I can't believe that it's almost my last day of blogging and I don't feel like writing today. I feel more like watching a dumb movie, so I think that's what I'm going to go do. But first, a little something I might have learned.

I visited an old friend today, who has finally started taking the herbalism classes she's been talking about for years. Now she's on her way to becoming an authentic witch doctor. I'm very proud of her. I asked her lot's of questions about it, and I learned a bunch of stuff that I've already forgotten. But I do remember one thing- flower essence therapy.

By leaving an untouched flower in some spring water for a few hours in direct sunlight and asking it to share it's healing powers, you can capture it's vibrational energies. Then you mix the water containing the flowers vibrational essence with a little brandy, put a few drops of it in something to drink, and voilà! Freedom in the 4th dimension.

Actually, truthfully, I find something real and beautiful in the idea. So much of reality exists in our own minds, that I believe the psychological effects of something like this could actually be helpful in removing mental blocks on our roads to health and happiness. Call me corny and tell me to shut up.

Walk Into the Light

I am so glad to be back home to my own dirty mess. It's funny to me how someone else's muck is gross, yet your own is so comforting.

Anyway, something really weird happened to me this morning. I woke up with a strange cassette tape in the pocket of an ultra comfortable dress that I slept in last night. I don't know if it was there all night or what, but I do know that everybody I know, including myself, swears they didn't put it there. And honestly, I don't know how the hell anybody would have been able to sneak it into my pocket without me noticing.

So, I listened to it when I got home this afternoon, and heard a rather funny man speaking to a crowd at an AA conference in 1978. It was pretty interesting so I listened to one whole side of it. Now I'm not sure which of the following two things I learned today.

A ghost at my aunts house thinks I'm an alcoholic.

Or

I'm a sleepwalking, amnesiac, kleptomaniac.

I used to wish I had some kind of drug problem so that maybe I could find a name and a support group for what's wrong with me, but nothing I ever read about seemed to fit. I've even been to a few AA meetings with friends, and I remember feeling a little left out and envious that I didn't fit in. I'm pretty sure I'm not an alcoholic, and I'm pretty sure that's not denial speaking. I do drink alcohol, yes. And sometimes way too much of it. I'm certainly retarded, but I don't think it has anything to do with whisky. Most of the time. Anyway, I'll pay more attention and see if I can find a reason to call myself an alcoholic.
I also don't think I've ever walked around in my sleep. At night anyway. Sure, I've worked full days at the office while sleeping, but nobody in my house has ever mentioned that I get up and do shit at night. And as far as I know, I have a memory so good it's creepy. I may have blacked out a few things, but done so pretty much on purpose, as far as I recall anyway. I also don't have random things lying around my house that I can't place where they came from.

So that only leaves one possibility-

I was so drunk last night that I don't remember stealing the tape.

Fresno Sucks

Fuck! I've been trapped in Fresno HELL with no internet since Saturday. Now the battery on my laptop is about to die, so here are a few little tidbits to make up for the lost days.

Don't EVER offer to help somebody move. Especially when it's 200 miles from where you live, and the person, my mother dearest in this case, is already gone.

Black Widow spiders can get VERY VERY big.

Finding free wi-fi in Fresno is nearly impossible.

Shit, the battery is going......

Daily Candies

I guess it's a good thing I'm down to my last week of this blog, because I've been pretty flaky with it lately. It's not that I don't care, I've just been a little preoccupied. Some big changes are coming up in my life, and I've been thinking more about the future than the present. As much as I'd like to, I can't really say I learned anything today that I didn't already know, but I did waste some time at work today catching up on about 80 old Daily Candy emails I've been ignoring. Most of it was shit that I just deleted, like ads for "handbags" (I totally hate that fucking word) and designer clothes, but some of it was fun and interesting. And lame.

For about 2 seconds about a year ago, I had this crazy idea to make a website showing good, clean places to take a piss away from home, as well as ones to avoid. But apparently someone else had the same idea and didn't dismiss it as another stupid idea. Check out MizPee- Where to go on the go. I'm not kidding.

Have you ever dreamed about peach flavored water right out of your tap? Me neither, but you certainly can have it if you want to. Go to Pur Flavor Options- Where filtered water now has the option of flavor. There's even a game and a quiz to help you decide which flavor is right for you.

Sometimes I'm sitting at my computer for so long that my ass really starts to hurt. Sometimes I have to drive long hours to shit holes to visit relatives and the same thing happens. Why O why can't there be some kind of ass massager I can just plug into my computer or the cigarette lighter in my car to get a little below-the-waist relief? Oh wait, there is! The USB Massage Ball bring you relaxation. (that's not my typo by the way) But don't use it on your hamster, as it's for "human body" only. And it's not for medical treatment, in case you wondering.

Now here's an idea that I almost like. Bookswim claims to be the Netflix of books. Just like DVD's, you can rent almost any book you like and keep it for as long as you want. I love used books, and I like the idea of recycling and reusing them. However. I know when I read a book, it's pretty much wasted by the time I'm done with it. It's folded, ripped and food stained by the time I get to the end. I'm pretty sure they wouldn't want a book back that I've had for a month or so, which is about how long it takes me to get through one these days.

And finally, something I really love, the Pooled Blood Pillow. It speaks for itself. With several drip patterns to choose from, I'm really upset that it sold out in May. And it was only 13 bucks!

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I'm feeling bitchy and retarded
and I don't feel like writing right now.

Jeu Sous la Pluie

I was just laying out in the backyard and it started raining on me. I wasn't really expecting that to happen, but I'm going to go enjoy it while I can.

Parthenogenesis

Once upon a time, a few female soil mites sat around complaining about the male soil mites, and after lengthy conversation decided that they had had enough.
"Fuck 'em," they all said.
"Or not," smiled one particularly bitter yet clever she-mite.
And without realizing it, those two little words started a revolution, and the female population started reproducing without putting out.
The males grew furious, then desperate. They moved quickly from cursing to begging.
"Come on baby. Please? I need you."
"Not in a million years," echoed through the dirt piles.
And the males began to disappear.

Then one day, almost exactly a million years later, a bedraggled male was seen crawling over a dirt clod in the distance.
"What about now?" he choked out.
When the females finally stopped laughing, a silence spread over the crowd. They all looked at each other, afraid to say what they were thinking. Then one brave and lonely female shrugged her little antennae and said, "Eh. Alright. Sure. Come on over."
And the Crotoniid mite fuck-fest began.

This is a true story. Here's proof- I Give Cloning for Sex

Love and War

I just didn't feel like sitting in front of my computer last night, so I flaked on my blog and sat outside for a few hours. It was the first time I'd been home alone at night in months, and it was too good to waste doing what I usually do. Instead, I looked at the stars and made up a few more Donnalations- constellations a la moi. Now I have a dragonfly and an alligator to add to my list, and I saw the most amazing shooting star ever.
Now that my excuse is out of the way...

Today I got stung by something! I didn't get to see what it was, but since there are a lot of wasps building nests in the backyard, I'm assuming that's what it was. I came inside from lying in my hammock and I felt something on my arm. Without thinking, I brushed it off and immediately felt the worst burning pain, and it got worse by the second. I knew right away that I'd been stung, and I was pissed! I felt so violated. Fucking wasp. What did I do to you? Have I knocked down your ugly little paper nests? No. Have I sprayed poison all over your incubating larva? No. Have I let you eat my food right off my plate? Yes! And this is what you do to me?
A few minutes later I felt all shaky and anxious. The bump started getting bigger, and then it started to swell. It burned. It hurt. A lot. Then I was nauseous. It felt just like love.
So what did I learn from this?

Wasps are assholes and venom makes my stomach hurt.

Tabasco Saucy

Today was another one of those glorious days of volunteering at the museum. Three precious hours of quiet solitude, just me and some pretty amazing art. Expect for that freak who spent 15 minutes telling me he was an artist because he used to make origami mobiles. Fucking paper birds. That's not art.
I did get to meet one of the actual artists though, who came in to show her painting (of a naked woman with trees growing out of her body while lying on a bare foot running coffin with dripping candles all over the place) to a friend. I was glad she did, because I got to ask her what the title of her piece meant. We spent quite a while talking, and now I know what La Malinche means.

La Malinche was a mistress and translator for Cortes as he conquered Mexico. Also known as Dona Marina, she is pretty much the Mexican equivalent to our American Pocahontas or Sacagawea, but instead of the reverence our Native American heroines receive, most Mexicans despise her. Not realizing that by utilizing her multi-lingual skills she probably saved thousands of lives with verbal negotiation, she is thought of by many as a traitor.

It's not exactly like it's her fault that Cortes took over Mexico. Even though he said himself, "After God we owe this conquest to Dona Marina," he probably would have done it anyway. She just happened to be the hottest of 20 slaves girls given to him and his men to "grind their corn," and she spoke a few languages his translator priest did not.

She is also considered the Eve of Mexico, since Cortes knocked her up with a son, creating the first Mestizo.

When I came home and started reading more about her, I got all excited about the possibility of making a movie about her story. Then I read that Antonio Banderas is already doing a film on Cortes called "Conquistador," and Ron Howard is working on a similar tale called "The Serpent and the Eagle." At least I'm in good company.

Freak Without Warning

If you drive really fast, you save gas.

It's true. I just did an experiment and proved it. I had to pick my son up from work about 20 miles away, which usually sucks an hour and 10 bucks of gas out of my tank by the time I get home. But today I was feeling a little more wild and reckless than usual, and since it was just me in the car I put the windows down, the music up, and drove as fast I could. It was really great speeding just for fun, instead of being late which is my usual excuse. It was almost as thrilling as that Sky Swing thing I did in Reno a couple of years ago. I felt so bad-ass with my hair flying and AC/DC pumping out of my momma van.
What a retard.
Most of the time when I go pick him up, the little orange gas light has been on for 3 days, so I'll have to put in $10.00 on the way out of town. By the time I get back home, the light is on again. But today, no orange light. See what I'm saying? It's totally true.

I also learned something else that's good to know.

You can do 85 in a 45 in a small town and not get caught if you drive a momma van.

I suspect it's because cops aren't really on the lookout for innocent looking blonde's driving recklessly in minivans. Another one of my theories I've been testing for the last few years now.
I wonder how far I can go with it?

My Favorite Holiday

Things falling out of the sky have always turned me on.
Especially fireworks.
I love everything about fireworks.

Every single little thing.
The echoing booms in our little valley.
The explosion of light and color.
The smell. Ahhh, the smell.

In fact, I love fireworks so much that I'm going to be them someday.

Check this out. Angels in Flight. This is the corniest one so I put it first.

This one is slightly better. Heavens Above Fireworks.

Why do they have to have such lame websites for such a great product?

I really want to go on and on today about how much I love 4th of July and why, and how it isn't about America and freedom for me, but gathering and community and a common bond, but I've got too much to do right now.
Then I wondered if maybe those things are what the United States is actually about.
Or would be, could be, should be.

Then I realized what it's really all about.

Beef.

Hamburgers, hot dogs and sausage.

Artificial Intelligence

I picked up an old newspaper at work the other day, and a headline saying something about firstborns having a higher IQ caught my eye. I really wanted to read it, but I was too busy at the moment so I put it into pile #C-332812 of things I needed to do. Today, almost 3 weeks later, I finally read it. Basically, it said that children born first get more attention, are treated as leaders and live with higher expectations from their parents, resulting in higher intelligence levels.
I really can't understand why it took some Norwegian doctor studying IQ tests taken by men joining the army to figure that out. I knew that shit when I was five. But that's probably because I'm the big sister.
Then I did some more reading about it, where I learned something I found kind of interesting.

Teaching benefits the teacher more than it does the student.

I love that. Here's a great explanation from Stanford psychologist Robert Zajonc.
"Explaining something to a younger sibling solidifies your knowledge and allows you to grow more extensively. The younger one is asking questions, and challenging meanings and explanations, and that will contribute to the intellectual maturity of the older one."

So, my little étudiants, I'd say that even though you probably didn't learn anything from today's lame posting, after 329 daily lessons here at What Donna Learned Today, (minus a few bullshit days) not only are you smarter, but so am I. By about 3 points, to be sure.