The Sock Monkey's Halloween

He’s gonna be a Spock monkey.

Oooh! Another Rabbit Hole!

It all started when I found a link promising to inform me how I handle being single, based on my astrological sign. While I don’t really believe these things, I can never entirely discount them, either. There are nuggets buried within - AND - I usually get a good laugh out of them. 

So I clicked through to see just how bad my prospects for future serenity are… 

Super complicated souls, Cancers, on one hand, relish their independence, so being single is not a problem. But on the other, they’re also fairly dependent and need someone to care for them and support them in handling their emotional issues, which means ultimately they cannot stand remaining single.

Hmmm… Well, it explains a lot about how I ping-pong around, doesn’t it? My inner rugged individualist wanted to quibble over the word “need” but the reality is that, while I can certainly live without someone to care for me and support me, I do not thrive without that. It is a need in that I am my best me when I feel like I matter to someone. (Which explains much about my life, really, but that is another post for another day.)

So, okay. 

Neither as depressing as I’d anticipated nor as bolstering as I’d secretly hoped, but nothing I can argue against. I'll go with it.

But, look!

Another link, ranking the zodiac signs based on how good they are in bed! 

Too tempting, even if it did induce trepidation. 

I clicked.

*phew!* - Number Three

(Am I being really bad if I delight in the fact that I came in six places higher than BG?)

Cancers are the most sensual sign in the Zodiac, they love every aspect of sex (as long as it’s with someone they care about). They savor their partner’s pleasure and are quick learners when it comes to what makes their body tick. If you want to be kissed, caressed, and treasured throughout the deed, choose a Cancer.

I’m not going to venture any opinion on how accurate I think this is… except that I loved the parenthetical disclaimer. “(as long as it’s with someone they care about) “ That part is quite true. If I don’t care about you, I don’t care about sex - and as a prickly, persnickety, detached kind of person, you can imagine where this leaves me.

No matter, tho’. I’ll take that third position and smile about it. :-)

But, look!

Yet another link, ranking the zodiac signs by how likely they are to snap and kill you!

(Seriously, even you devoted skeptics, could you resist clicking that one?)

I sure couldn’t.

12 - Cancer 

Cancers have huge hearts and their empathetic nature is something they’re enormously proud of. To get a Cancer to a point of actually killing someone would be basically impossible. That sort of unpredictability and volatility is not at all in their personality. Just randomly killing someone isn’t something a Cancer is capable of doing; they’re just too kind.

Another “hmmm…” yet, despite a healthy dose of skepticism over the words “empathetic” and “kind”, I’m going to let this one go unchallenged. I may be perfectly capable of delivering a good, solid kick to someone in self-defense, but Weenie Girl, even when seeing those big green blotches of complete, consuming rage, does prefer to stomp away rather than raising her cudgel.

So, yeah, I’ll take that twelfth place.

Say it loud, “I’m last and proud!”

As The Dust Settles

Sometimes I wonder why any of my long-time readers still show up here. I’m DELIGHTED to see those who do, don’t get me wrong. But my blog has certainly changed from what it once was and I’m not always sure why those who showed up looking for tales of sex and submission keep coming back, now that it’s mostly memes and silliness.

ARB started as a blog written by a hopeful, sassy woman embarking on a great life adventure. There were ups and downs, to be sure, but that was okay, adventures are like that. The adventure ended badly, however, leaving behind a very muted version of that woman.

Still a wise-ass, still capable of enjoying daily life… but disappointment has taken its toll on the attitude behind it all. Hope and adventure have become things of the past, not the future. (Disclaimer: Not all of this change stems from the breakup - there were other, simultaneous rollercoaster rides that ended in disappointment, as well. — I don’t know that you could call it a “perfect” storm of disheartening circumstances, but it was certainly a “pretty darned good” one, at any rate.)

I’m doing my best to deal with it all, and I am getting there, but this stuff takes time - and there are consequences to the effort. One of the side effects that’s making me the most nuts is how all this grappling has effected my writing. For quite some time now, a large part of my internal processing has been dedicated to working through all this “feelings” crap. You guys know I’m not great with feelings to start with, nor am I much of a one for public emotional vomiting, so I’ve shied away from dumping all the angst here. On the other hand, however, by bracketing that off of the “possible subjects” list, I’m left with remarkably little that can be addressed in the maybe half an hour a day that I have for blogging. Just stopping the noise takes up a good half of that time, then I still have to find what I want to say… and then figure out how to say it...

I don’t want to give up on this blog. I want to be able to sit here and just talk to you all.

But memes and silliness are much easier, my friends. Much, much easier. 

I don’t intend to stay stuck in this track forever but unfortunately, there’s still a ways to go. There are decisions to be weighed and changes to be made - plenty more hard stuff ahead. 

So it’s quite likely the memes and silliness will hang out for a while longer.

In the meantime, however, I wanted to thank you all for your patience - and your continued visits. You are appreciated.

For now, though, you must excuse me - I have things to go do…

What'cha Readin' Wednesday?

Tomorrow is my book club meeting and I’m supposed to have finished “a gripping re-telling of a classic maritime adventure” … So I’ve undoubtedly been face down in that very book for the last few days, right?

Nope. Nor am I at all certain that I’ll even look at it again before the meeting - because I've gotten way too absorbed in Sherman Alexie’s “You Don’t Have to Say You Love Me” to care about some ol’ boat thing.

My heavens, this book is good. I’ve extolled the virtues of Mr. Alexie’s writing before but since he continues to write books that wow me, I think it only fair that I continue to fangrrl you all into reading his work. :-D

As with most of his prose, this book will make you both laugh and wince. It’s a memoir of Alexie’s life as the bipolar son of a bipolar mother and the complicated love/hate dance that ensued. It’s grim at times - he never sugarcoats the reality of existence, be it the poverty of life on the reservation or the gut-wrenching challenges of living with mental illness - but it also glows with moments of affection and humor.

The structure is a mix of prose and poetry, full of one-liners that will make you grin and laments that put into words to all the anger and sorrow you never knew how to express. This excerpt from chapter 12 - Terminal Velocity, practically had me leaping from my chair, yelling, “YES!” - even with all the f-bombs…

(…) Fuck you, 

Small Cell Cancer, I want to shoot you in the heart

And mount you on the hood of my truck.

I want to trophy you like you trophied my mother.

Fuck you, Cancer, fuck you, Cemetery Dancer 

The book is beautiful and moving, raw and honest. To the point, in fact, that Alexie had to cut short the book tour for it because it triggered his struggle with depression. “I have been rebreaking my heart night after night.” Nonetheless, this is not a book that leaves me feeling brutalized for having read it. It may not always be a light read but it's not dismal. Instead, I'm finding it very rewarding - absorbing and compelling, and a tribute to the strength and complexity of this thing we call love, even when it becomes completely entwined with hatred and rips our hearts out every time we trip over the loose, untidy ends.

“I don’t believe in ghosts. But I see them all the time.”

Star(bucks) Date?

Under The Weather

I managed to get sick on my vacation (Go, me!) so now I’m curled up on my couch, ameliorating the effects of cooties and jet lag with hot beverages, snoozes, and good books.

This presented a dilemma for Spock Sunday, however.

Googling “spock sneezes” yielded absolutely nothing of any use… 

         but then I happened upon this little gem:

I know it's not Spock but it made me feel so much better that I'm posting it anyhow.

(I hope you don't mind.)

"Because I Like It" Wednesday

Dear Whoever Made This... you are brilliant and I love you.

The End of Hell Month

Time to par-TAY!!!

I'm thinking something along the lines of this:

(only less washed-out and in slightly more fashionable clothing...)