Zero 7 - In The Waiting Line

Wait in line
'Till your time
Ticking clock
Everyone stop

Everyone's saying different things to me
Different things to me
Everyone's saying different things to me
Different things to me

Woooohh
Do you believe
In what you see
There doesn't seem to be anybody else who agrees with me

Do you believe
In what you see
Motionless wheel
Nothing is real
Wasting my time
In the waiting line
Do you believe in
What you see

Nine to five
Living lies
Everyday
Stealing time
Everyone's taking everything they can
Everything they can
Everyone's taking everything they can
Everything they can

Woooohh
Do you believe
In what you feel
It doesn't seem to be anybody else who agrees with me

Do you believe
In what you see
Motionless wheel
Nothing is real
Wasting my time
In the waiting line
Do you believe
In what you see

Ah and I'll shout and I'll scream
But I'd rather not have seen
And I'll hide away for another day

Do you believe
In what you see
Motionless wheel
Nothing is real
Wasting my time
In the waiting line
Do you believe
In what you see

Everyone's saying different things to me
Different things to me
Different things to me
Different things to me
Different things to me
Everyone's taking everything they can
Everything they can

Splattered

Well, after a clearly shitty week (I realise it is all about perception, so ultimately it was me who was off, not the week), I got out to my vehicle to find about 1/3 of it covered in bird poop... literally. I don't park under a light standard or trees. If I did, it would have been more understandable, but there isn't anything that a flock of birds could have taken turns sitting on voiding their bowels over my vehicle.

One person said "did someone egg your car?", it was so extensive. Nope. Just the universe putting things in perspective and it took a bunch of birds pooping on my car at once (or one bird with really loose bowels circling my car) for me to snap the fuck out of the weirdness that I've been in.

Today the darkness has lifted and all it took was being crapped on.

2 sides

I am a horrible human being. Nasty, cold, calculating. The flip side, I am also the person who would walk through the hot coals for you, weeps at the thought of puppies being hurt by bad men, am so flexible I could tie myself into knots trying to please others.

I would be the person who would step in, tend to the bad man who hurt puppies, then slip into the shadows again. Can I do that? Please?

Love to the nth degree but also loathe to the same degree. How does this actually work and why is it I feel like I know someone who reads my words regularly. I mean know (not in a biblical way, but have known you for years in the flesh).

Sigh. This life is so odd. So very alone but connected in ways I have no understanding or influence over.

Home care nurses

Go fuck yourselves. You're not RNs or LPNs. You wipe asses, at best, and that's it.

If you don't like that I demand people actually understand CPR before passing them... I don't give a shit.

I'm tired of people not speaking English then expecting me to pass them without them understanding a god damn thing. I taught English as a Second Language for 8 frigging years... I learned different languages when I lived around the world.

You don't like English? Go back to your home country. When I lived in Brazil, I learned Portuguese and lived like a Brazilian. You don't want to live like we do here? Go HOME!!!

What you can see

Is only half of all there is. I don't want to wait until I'm dead to understand it or I will be miffed because I will be seeing the other half and only remembering the physical. Is it wrong to want to understand it all? I'd like to put the pieces together sooner rather than later so I can just get on with living as opposed to putting it off... as I so often do.

Thom Yorke - Black Swan

What will grow quickly, that you can't make straight
It's the price you gotta pay
Do yourself a favour and pack you bags
Buy a ticket and get on the train
Buy a ticket and get on the train

Cause this is fucked up, fucked up
Cause this is fucked up, fucked up

People get crushed like biscuit crumbs
And laid down in the bed you made
You have tried your best to please everyone
But it just isn't happening
No, it just isn't happening

And it's fucked up, fucked up
And this is fucked up, fucked up
This your blind spot, blind spot
It should be obvious, but it's not.
But it isn't, but it isn't

You cannot kickstart a dead horse
You just crush yourself and walk away
I don't care what the future holds
Cause I'm right here in your arms today
With your fingers you can touch me

I'm your black swan, black swan
But I made it to the top, made it to the top
This is fucked up, fucked up

You are fucked up, fucked up
This is fucked up, fucked up

Be your black swan, black swan
I'm for spare parts, broken up

***
bad quality sound but first time i've seen the vid. the song was running through my head as i woke up this morning. nice to groove to regardless of the time :)

Puzzled

I was just reminded of something my guide told me when I had direct communication with him. He said that everything I need is inside me. It was a puzzle when he said it in 2007 and it's still a puzzle that I was just reminded of...

What does that really mean?

Nelly Furtado - I'm Like a Bird

You're beautiful, that's for sure
You'll never ever fade
You're lovely but it's not for sure
And I won't ever change
And though my love is rare
Though my love is true

I'm like a bird, I only fly away
I don't know where my soul is, I don't know where my home is
(and baby all I need for you to know is)
I'm like a bird, I only fly away
I don't know where my soul is, I don't know where my home is
All I need for you to know is

Your faith in me brings me to tears
Even after all these years
And it pains me so much to tell
That you don't know me that well
And though my love is rare
Though my love is true

I'm like a bird, I only fly away
I don't know where my soul is, I don't know where my home is
(and baby all I need for you to know is)
I'm like a bird, I only fly away
I don't know where my soul is, I don't know where my home is
All I need for you to know is

It's not that I wanna say goodbye
It's just that every time you try to tell me that you love me
Each and every single day I know
I'm going to have to eventually give you away
And though my love is rare
And though my love is true
Hey I'm just scared
That we may fall through

I'm like a bird, I only fly away
I don't know where my soul is, I don't know where my home is
(and baby all I need for you to know is)
I'm like a bird, I only fly away
I don't know where my soul is, I don't know where my home is
All I need for you to know is


***
This song has been running through my head, not sure why. Nelly Furtado's eyebrows in this video make me laugh - It's the first time I've seen the video.

Also, strange thing happened in the middle of the night. First, a big folding chair fell over - very loud and my heart was racing. I ignored it and went back to sleep. Then, at 3:30 I was dreaming and it sounded like rocks in a hubcap or pebbles being thrown at a window - I knew it wasn't coming from the dream but outside, so I came back to consciousness. The sound stopped as soon as I was conscious. So, if there is someone trying to talk to me and waking me up, I told them to pony up and talk to me or to fuck off and not wake me up... shit or get off the pot. Harumph. :) Needless to say, I'm tired with not as much sleep as I'd like.

Miss Silvia

Well, well, well. I have gone over the deep end and actually purchased an espresso machine and grinder. I think, however, that this is one of the better purchases I've made. I pulled my first shots and all I can say is yum. SB be gone. :D

CRV RV 1

The remote viewing 'class' is on Monday night but I taught all day yesterday and today and also volunteered last night until 23:00. I'm frigging pooped but wanted to give you an update before I collapse into bed.

There were 5 women along with the woman who is teaching the remote viewing.

$75 and 2 hours later, I can say... with confidence... that this is real and I can actually do it (much to my honest amazement - I was scared I wouldn't be able to do it).

I also found that not everyone in the room got the 'target' with accuracy.

We did 11 targets. By a target I mean that the woman who ran the class thought up something, wrote it on a piece of paper, folded the paper up. On the outside she wrote a number - the only thing that could be seen. Then, she slowly read out the number and we were to write down words that popped to mind about the target.

Let me describe it:

22220 was the target number I wrote down. Then I wrote:
- blazing hot sun
- melting
- tired
- sweat
- sand
- hill
- man
- petrol
- station
- heat waves off pavement
- ice machine

When the target was revealed it was --> Ayers Rock (in Australia)

Another one:

1432
- steel
- tall
- glass
- office
- down town
- business people
- reflection
- grey
- concrete
- obscured
- tempered
- hidden
- unknown
- one way
- twin

The target was a local famous building downtown which is on a one way street.

Final example:

10
- wheels
- transportation
- road trip
- young family
- happy child
- warm day
- blur
- sand
- red
- telephone pole
- singing
- stitching
- shorts

Target -----> The woman who was leading the class' white volvo, they're going on a road trip this summer

Seriously. I am not shitting you. I actually got it. In fact (and this is genuine, I really am not making this up or boasting) before we began the evening I thought 'if i were to make up a target, I'd make it Big Ben in London' and guess what the first target was? Big Ben in London. My palms were sweating. Seriously sweating and I flushed. This is real and I can actually do it.

Holy crap.

Foster parenting

No, not in the way you think. I signed up to foster bumble bees.

:D

Secret formulae

Well, not quite. I just have a problem. It's called Starbucks. Now, before you tisk tisk me in disgust, you have to realise that I lived in Brazil in my early 20s and although I didn't drink coffee before I lived there, I certainly did after. I haven't always been a devotee to SB, this new obsession began in November 2010, full on... hard core.

I now have a gold card and actually top it up. My name is Jane and I'm addicted to good coffee.

When I lived in the UK, I had my stovetop espresso and I made my own espresso for years. Not much of a story. I lived with the gay Italian and his hag and then a random 3rd person (first while it was Martha, then it was a guy who tried to come into my room in the middle of the night and said he thought it was the bathroom - I've blocked out his name, and then there was the gay Australian girl). The Italians used the stovetop espresso as I did. The thing was that I love flavoured coffee.

Enter in Starbucks.

So, when doing the EMT, there was a SB down the street from the school and I had to trudge across the city to the school, have a thing about sitting in rush hour so left early and arrived before the school opened... but SB was open. I sat there and studied. For 3 months.

Now, even though I've been done the coursework for almost 4 months, I still attend the church that is SB.

I'm trying to figure out ways to wean myself. I'm researching espresso machines out there because the stovetop just isn't tasting the same now that I have the blessed Grande Americano. Putting water into the stovetop espresso makes bitter espresso, but with SB it isn't bitter and gross. So. I'm thinking perhaps it is the grinder that is the difference. I'll buy that first and see if I can wean. If that doesn't work, I'll actually fork out the money for a proper unit... likely the Rancilio Silvia.

Back on track. The secret formulae. I don't have a sweet tooth normally - I'm a salty girl... but with SB, it seems to be all about the sweet. These are my two current favourite drinks:

2 pumps (each) white mocha, coconut, hazelnut

or

2 pumps white mocha, 1 pump raspberry, 3 pumps vanilla

Now, if you're not a sweet person and try these you'll curse the day you thought about reading my words. If you like sweet, give it a go.

The reason this is on my mind is because I found a recipe to make my own white mocha (theirs is slightly too sweet with the other syrup so I thought I'd try to make my own at home and save the $0.50 on the cup - some people charge, others don't so I'll just make my own and see if it is as good). I've just made a batch and will give it a go. We'll see if it is gross or as good as the real thing. :)

All's well that ends well

I was thrown to the wolves by being asked if I wanted to teach something new. A babysitter's course. No introduction to the course, no workshop, just having the books being dropped off where I was teaching first aid yesterday, an address and a "Have fun!!" note attached.

Have fun indeed...

a) I am voluntarily childless. The 13 years I did in university are like my first marriage that ended without children but more letters after my name. I'm ok with that.

b) I find children to be really interesting from an anthropological standpoint, watching them at a distance, poking them with sticks if they get too close to keep them away (does anyone actually get my sense of humour and irony?), and thinking they are utterly brilliant in their purity and willingness to say whatever they do that pops to mind. Love that :)

c) Haven't babysat for probably 25 years - when I was in my teens.

I took the books home and I looked through them. I'm afraid that this first course was a bit dry in that it is different from a first aid course and all I had to offer these gems of kids is going through chapter by chapter.

I guess I made it sufficiently interesting because I got these reviews:
- It was fun and I learned a lot
- I thought it was really fun!
- Very good instructor
- I liked the first aid part
- Great food! Love the teacher! Well done!
- "What did you like the most about the course?" Learning how to save a child.

There were 4 boys and 6 girls aged 11-13 (the girls used more !!!)

Will I do it again? Hell yeah. More preparation is needed to have more activities and hands on bits. Fun though. Frightening as fuck (children have no problem exposing you as a fraud if they think you are one), but all right in the end.

Buck 65 ft. Jenn Grant (L. Cohen cover) - Who by Fire

And who by fire?
Who by water?
Who in the sunshine?
Who in the night time?
Who by high ordeal?
Who by common trial?
Who in your merry merry month of May?
Who by very slow decay?
And who shall I say is calling?
(Who shall I say is calling?)

And who in her lonely slip?
Who by barbiturate?
Who in these realms of love?
Who by something blunt?
Who by avalanche?
Who by powder?
Who for his greed?
Who for his hunger?
And who shall I say is calling?
(Who shall I say is calling?)

And who by brave assent?
Who by accident?
Who in solitude?
Who in this mirror?
Who by his lady's command?
Who by his own hand?
Who in mortal chains?
Who in power?
And who shall I say is calling?
(Who shall I say is calling?)

In praise of the pollinators

A friend had this link 'liked' on her facebook page a week or so ago and I have only just gotten around to watching it.

It's 07:40 minutes worth of media that is time moderately well spent, if only for the bats and the sounds they make. Other than the sounds the animals/insects make, I'd mute the new age bullshit music.

On my only day off, I slept till 11am (unheard of for me, normally up between 3-5am) and am about to go throw some compost on the flower bed that reminds me of the sahara. I'm not a gardener, don't get the impression that I am. I want to be, I long to understand the intricate pattern and connection of things, but I tend to forget to water and dote. Succulents do well under my care - just ask my jade plant. I was given that beauty during my masters degree 11 years ago and she has thrived.

Going to plant the sunflowers I sprouted and a pollinator garden in a week. After the threat of frost has actually passed.

I can't wait :D

Remote viewing

Hmm. So I went to a talk on Monday night all about remote viewing. The speaker discussed how it came into the main stream post WWII and had a distinct military history (viewing targets, etc). They also mentioned that it is a skill that anyone is able to master.

I'm going to give it a go. I really would like to know what the cup and ring markings are about and what the people of prehistoric Britain used them for and also if 'real' it would help locate the whereabouts of people during search and rescue operations. I can dig that.

If it is real and it is a skill I can develop, there is so much to learn and so little time in this life. Am I a naive fool? I guess only time will tell.

Vrooooom

I'm in the middle of an IAPD course and learning how to drive an ambulance using shuffle steering and drive with an appropriate apex is *fun*. Tomorrow morning is perception based and all I can say is that I enjoy being a speed demon on the track while taking corners eliminating roll for my invisible partner and patient in the back... All the while missing little fake Billy and his pooch.

Whee! :D

U2 - I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For

I have climbed highest mountains
I have run through the fields
Only to be with you
Only to be with you
I have run
I have crawled
I have scaled these city walls
These city walls
Only to be with you

But I still haven't found what I'm looking for
But I still haven't found what I'm looking for

I have kissed honey lips
Felt the healing in her fingertips
It burned like a fire
This burning desire

I have spoke with the tongue of angels
I have held the hand of a devil
It was warm in the night
I was cold as a stone

But I still haven't found what I'm looking for
But I still haven't found what I'm looking for

I believe in the Kingdom Come
Then all the colours will bleed into one
Bleed into one
But yes I'm still running

You broke the bonds
And you loosed the chains
Carried the cross
Of my shame
Oh my shame
You know I believe it

But I still haven't found what I'm looking for
But I still haven't found what I'm looking for
But I still haven't found what I'm looking for

***
Apt. I couldn't find the album version on youtube. Was going to link to an obese man playing an accordion but there isn't a link to do so on the mobile version and I'm not whipping out my HTML skills. I still have 45 mins before I have to get up.

Back to laying under my cloud like duvet and listening to the robins :D

Pitter patter of tiny and not so tiny feet

I have just had a busy weekend of volunteering watching people, making sure they get medical help if anything untoward happens. Watching hundreds of people huff and puff as they run past is almost mind numbing. I want to say that I cheered them on, but that would be a lie. I cheered on the one person I knew and when people yelled thank you to me, I said "no, thank *you* for running" - not a lie, I'd rather it be them than me.

The obsession with mothers is interesting. Mine died almost a year and a half ago and I was estranged for very good reasons. Why is Mother's Day so important to people? Thank you for putting out mom.

No, let me be clear. I actually have nothing but respect for people who parent well and I applaud them. My mother wasn't one of those people so why should there be a day set aside for her and her nasty kind who simply abused their children?

I do not want children. Might be because of the woman who bore me and her legacy that continues in my head, but I also just think that there are too many people on this planet. I don't need to add to that problem but am not judging you if you want them or have had them.

Just be good parents. That's all I ask. Take care and protect your children instead of abuse and neglect them. Is that too much to ask for?

Self-indulgence

Blogging. One of the most self-indulgent activities on the face of the planet. For me, it is an outlet. The likelihood of you actually knowing me is next-to-non-existent and the truth of the matter is that I am divulging things here that 99.99999% of people do not know about me. I guess you, the anonymous reader, are gaining insight into my soul (the 'anonymous' writer) from a perspective that is previously unseen.

I think the reason I'm pondering this is the fact that there are a few people who come and read my words with regularity. I do not know who you are or anything about you (other than you have access to both a computer, an internet connection, perhaps a curious nature, and that there is likely a reason why you have stumbled onto me and my words). I suppose I feel a bit exposed/naked despite the fact that I am unknown. I am baring my soul. It is suddenly almost more unsettling than changing one's clothes/showering with the curtains and windows open (with full knowledge of that fact) in front of a busy road and side-walk. Without doubt, one's pattern of dressing/showering will coincide with someone's pattern of walking/driving to work/school/etc.

I don't really care if someone sees me naked. I have swam and one whips off their knickers quicker than you can blink an eye. One human body is as mundane as the next - different cup size, slightly saggier/firmer, a few more wrinkles or a bit more cellulite, but it's all the same in the end. The soul, however, is a bit more hidden.

At the end of the day, we're all one anyway so we'll all bare it all eventually, but there is a false sense of privacy while in body. We are seen, but we don't see and don't realise that we are seen. Pick your nose, feel free, but you are seen. People get mocked for driving around picking their nose, others laughing, shaking their heads, wondering who in their right mind would do that... obviously oblivious to the fact that they can be seen by others driving around in their glass bubble.

I guess I'm saying that we live our lives, metaphorically picking our nose in a bubble while we think we're unseen. We are seen and every single thing we do is noted and will be laid bare upon passing (ours and other people). You will see how much your husband/wife/boyfriend/girlfriend/child/friend/etc loved or hated you and every single thing they did behind your back, for better or worse. They will see how much you stole, cheated, lied, every little secret thing you did. You will see the same about them.

We all will be required to account for and work through the muck we still have to work through. It doesn't stop when we die... much to my chagrin. We continue to be who we are.

So, I guess I can bare my soul now for you to know now, or can clam up and just be seen upon my/your passing. You can choose to reveal who you are (even anonymously) or just wait. Both are fine by me, it just feels a bit weird blathering away to myself (which is what this was supposed to be) but knowing that you are reading this. So I am blathering to you, in essence.

I also guess that I'm a bit surprised that you're interested. Not sure why, only you know. I'm just a female who is struggling to make sense of this life, the other side, and to do what I can to make a positive difference. I'm odd. I don't really fit in and I don't think like others so I find myself alone most of the time. It is odd to me to think that I am not alone. How do I know I am not alone? You give a rats ass to read my blather and come back to see what kind of a day I'm having or what adventures I find myself on. So I guess I'm saying thank-you to you.

I still feel like this is way too self-indulgent, blathering as I do.

Music

Music is important to me. I do not have an obsessive need to listen to it 24/7, I don't have a huge CD collection and I find concerts to be way too loud to tolerate most of the time (I've worn earplugs at concerts for many years and I don't understand the obsession to turn the knobs as high as they will go so the sound distorts.

Yes, I played instruments. Sax, clarinet, guitar and piano. Yes, I did think I wanted to be a musician when I was in high school. Yes, I worked my ass off and won the band award and thought I'd move to an even bigger city to go to university. Yes, I realised in the nick of time that being a musician would have eaten my soul and spat it out (the repetition). I lack the ability to create music so having to play songs again and again became annoying.

Fast forward. I don't like having a lot of CDs necessarily. I like exploration and variety. I stumbled onto last.fm when I lived in the UK and have been on a pilgrimage ever since 2004. What I didn't realise was that messages are spoken to me through music.

What the hell am I talking about? I really don't have the energy to talk about it today (it's been a long 4 days of teaching first aid with labour intensive classes), but I will another day if you want to hear. Let me know if you do, if I don't hear from you, I'll drop it permanently.


***
weird that I stumbled onto this. well, not weird... it's how the cookie crumbles. I'll let you figure it out. I'm not a medium like her but 'coincidences' and music play a big part of how I'm guided, and it is meaningful coincidences - like what you see in this episode. I miss talking to my guide face to face, but he still guides me. I miss talking to him, but it is as it is for now.

City and Colour - Against the Grain

You need not, to climb mountaintops
You need not, to cross the sea
You need not, to find a cure
for everything that makes you weak.

You need not to reach for the stars,
when life becomes so dark
and when the wind
does blow against the grain
you must follow your heart
you must follow your heart

when all your friends
have come and gone
the sun no longer shines
the happiness for which you long
is washed away, like an oceans tide
when all the hard times, outweigh the good
and all your words are misunderstood

when the day seems lost from the stars
you must follow your heart
you must follow your heart

If you feel, you paid the price
and your wounds should cease to heal
and everything you love in life,
spins like a winding wheel
if you should wake, to find you're abandoned.
and the road you travel, leads to a dead end

when death creeps in, to play it's part.
you must you follow your heart
you must follow your heart
You need not, to climb mountaintops
You need not, to cross the sea
You need not, to find a cure
for everything that makes you weak.

You need not to reach for the stars,
when life becomes so dark
and when the wind
does blow against the grain
you must follow your heart
you must follow your heart

when all your friends
have come and gone
the sun no longer shines
the happiness for which you long
is washed away, like an oceans tide
when all the hard times, outweigh the good
and all your words are misunderstood

when the day seems lost from the stars
you must follow your heart
you must follow your heart

If you feel, you paid the price
and your wounds should cease to heal
and everything you love in life,
spins like a winding wheel
if you should wake, to find you're abandoned.
and the road you travel, leads to a dead end

when death creeps in, to play it's part.
you must you follow your heart
you must follow your heart