Personal grooming, Caucasians, and Physics

PAN ATLANTIC HOROSCOPE FOR SEPTEMBER:


Cancerous is well known to be the most ignunt of all the astrological forecasts. So since you don't got no job, don't got shit to do, you might as well go traveling this month and lay your unemployed ass up on everybody's couch. Sure, you don't have a job, you're running out of money, and your UI check haven't come in. But that has never stopped you before. 

My September, sweet September
Seventh name in the Ninth month
Your lingering summer breezes push me out my front door
And onto various planes, winging my way across the country

In keeping with this, I realized belatedly today that I am flying out tomorrow, not Sunday. Whoops. Cue much laundry and running about. I also don't have a ride to the airport. Fuck.

I am also attempting the heretofore untried: packing for a ten day trip with a piece of carry-on and a back pack. Please, please, don't panic. Pass out the smelling salts to the lady who swooned in the third row. It's just an experiment. We'll see how it goes. (I predict badly, but that could just be my common sense talking.)

Earlier this summer I slept on my shoulder funky and fassbendered it up but good. Today is the first time it hasn't actively bothered me in months, and I think that's because I attempted to do 10 girly push ups yesterday and those muscles have taken over screaming rights for the moment. Fine by me. Scream all you want, bitches. Ain't nobody around to save you.

I have a wedding at the end of the month. Somehow I doubt that I will magically have shed 20 lbs and look fabulous for it. I suppose I might try upping my exercise, but it's an accomplishment for me to crawl out of bed and be mobile within 4 hours. I begin to suspect my meds are Not Quite Right. *sigh* Really, just *sigh*---I don't have much else to say about that.

So, I have some personal grooming of the vaguely painful kind that I pay a certain person to do for me. Her name is Olivia, and she is bitching awesome and does facials and sugaring and cool stuff. She's super intelligent and very nice to boot (she gave me this computer desk for free!)

If you are in the Santa Monica Area, check her out. http://www.beysgarden.com/

Anyhoo, anytime I visit the lovely Olivia, I stop by the local bar, Rick's, for a shot of Dutch courage and nerve numbing via alcohol. Rick's is pretty divey, in that respectable divey way, and if I do end up talking to people it's always the wildest convos.

Today I sought to drown my future pain in a White Russian. The guy on the stool next to me commented, which led to bowling, which led to a discussion about particle physics and Eastern philosophies. No shit. In about 10 minutes. Turns out this guy was a physicist for a while, then he quit and became a patent lawyer. There are no words. I laughed out loud when he told me this and he wanted to know why. "That's a hell of a C.V. you got there," I told him. He shrugged, like this what everyone's life looks like.

He was very excited that I brought up the similarities between Buddhist teachings and quantum physics. I told him the story about reading how electrons in microscopes were found to move according to the wishes of viewer (Science Weekly Magazine, circa 1987). He brought up the concept of Action at Distance (I was familiar with variations of the concept, but had never heard this formal name.) I mentioned Schrodinger and his cat, he mentioned a book exploring and contrasting the lives of Einstein and Neils Bohr.

We both agreed that in this universe, it's silly to think things aren't connected. I opined that the real freaky thing would be if things were isolated from each other. Then I had to go and make my appointment.

It's one wacky game show, kids. And I still have to pack. And soon I must relate about  how my mail carrier is out to get me.

To my surprise, there are some people who haven't seen this. Frightful thought, that.