Scattered is not my normal. I am trying to convince myself the affectation of the disarray are latent energies from this mornings hefty rock and roller. But taking a deep breathe of the night air, I realize I am concerned about someone I am developing fond feelings for - my tender heart in a tussle with my globalizing brain? Why does our emotive center become entangled with itself when budding affection takes hold of the reins? Abandonment, fear of failure, a history (ah shit, that again), and the twister blister = God. Yes, i have faith in a power greater than moi. How the hell could I not? Writing my first novel is placing me in a thin bubble of viscous vulnerability? Yikes, what a wimp. I am truly crappy at patience and why God in Her infinite wisdom shipped me to Costa Rica - the land of Pura Vida! A dear friend for many years would now offer his answer to the worst and the best and everything in between - what will be will be - what I call the Doris Day (from her huge hit Que Sera Sera). Plus, the weather remains dank, drippy, and misty - and cold. Moving on . . . There are red, white, and blue balloons flying Robert Reich is being pursued to run for POTUS. I heard this consideration in three dearly nearly opposing situations - just today. He is at UC Berkeley. I suggested to one of the three queries to contact him there while explaining his only chance is on an independent line. Reich was born with Fairbanks Disease and why he is only 4 feet 10 inches tall. True blue to our revolutionary knickers Americans prefer tall bullshitters. robertreich.org/
Posted on: Tue, 09 Dec 2014 02:51:01 +0000
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