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2005-01-25 - one year older

Do I love my friends or what? My birthday rocked me. I'd just like to hurl a thank you out into the universe. I am so blessed I could cry. It's not about the presents of course, but I was still receiving gifts today and I wasn't complaining. My friends gave me two really nice parties. They made me a special raw cake with my initial all over it. Hip hip hooray it was a perfect day. I don�t even like carrot cake but it was creamy, had like a marshmallow sauce on it, and wasn�t all stopped up with weird raisins and other pebblish characters. The most amusing gift I got was in a big manila envelope in which one of my friends had made a Dead Can Dance cd, a � used pack of incense, and a Carlos Castaneda book, which another friend said looked like the library would be wanting it back soon.

I told him be nice, it just looked like an old copy, watch, I�ll ask Jose about it now.

�Jose, thank you so much for the presents!�

�Oh you�re so welcome, happy birthday.�

�Jose, do you � need that Castaneda book back?�

�Oh yes, please. My girlfriend really wants to read it!�

�Are you sure this was a book you wanted to kind of give me?�

�Yeah, yeah it�s fine. When I took it off the shelf, she was like, what are you doing with that, I still want to read that!�

�Yeah, okay. Glad I asked. Thanks again Jose.�

�Oh, I�m so glad you like everything, you�re so welcome.�

I did laundry down the street before our desert run, and counted the Jehovah Witness Watchtower pamphlet I got from one of his witnesses as a birthday present. She brought only me and one other woman a pamphlet. I�d like to think that we were chosen.

Roxy was nice enough to go with me into the desert and bury L.B! Finally. Well half of L.B. anyway, the rest of his bones are back in my closet, they'll go to his other home in Tucson. I didn't cry, but I did give him a little head stone, a pretty rock that I found on the land, across the street from where we used to live, next to a pipe coming out of the ground.

All I had was a red sharpie to write on his headstone.

"Mommy loves L.B."

When we patted the earth back down over him and drove away, (a daily total of 275 miles thank you very much) the same song started on the radio which ALSO happened to be playing the day that little L.B. and me drove away from my trailer home in Tucson, when Andreas and me broke up. It�s called Give A Little Bit by Supertramp. Andreas used to call LB Little Bit, now that I think of it. Fascinating, isn�t it. On my birthday, though, there was a new version of that song out which came on. I thought that was a beautiful serendipitous moment.

Give a little bit
Give a little bit of your love to me
Give a little bit
I�ll give a little bit of my love to you
There�s so much that we need to share
So send a smile and show you care

I�ll give a little bit
I�ll give a little bit of my life for you
So give a little bit
Give a little bit of your time to me
See the man with the lonely eyes
Take his hand, you�ll be surprised

Give a little bit
Give a little bit of your love to me
I�ll give a little bit of my life for you
Now�s the time that we need to share
So find yourself, we�re on our way back home

Going home
Don�t you need to feel at home?
Oh yeah, we gotta sing

We did take some pictures of the mini ceremony and if I can figure out how, I�ll post them here. L.B. would�ve wanted it that way.

His little soul is already at rest, I'm sure, but I feel it's important to give little beings� bones a home so their Mommies can visit them. One of my friends said it would be okay to spread him out in two different places. That it�s all really just about your intent for doing it that way. My intentions are all good. This particular friend when he was younger had an owl head in his freezer for a year! People would look for food in the freezer, and bypass the wrapped up head, not knowing what it was. Finally one day his Dad found out about it and got pissed off and chucked it out. It�s funny, and yet very disturbing, the whole thing.

By the way, here�s a day I didn�t actually have.

I called the �President� this morning.Told him to get the troops out of Iraq. He said he�d try. I said don�t try, do. And then he did. By the time I got to work, I was late. My boss was a little upset, but not by much. I told him nicely that I would like a raise. He said he�d try. I told him to make it happen. And then he did. I went to the Farmer�s market, and found two very angry vegans. They are rightfully upset about the mistreatment of animals, only they don�t channel it correctly. They bully quiet meat eaters with their venomous sharp tongues and worn out racket. So I beat both of them up, and it gave them amnesia, making them think they assaulted each other. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

When I was going home yesterday, I passed a pickup truck with a little seven year old boy who was being driven by his Dad or friend, who was redneck or white and the little boy was black. There�s nothing particularly alarming about that, but the boy kept looking out his window at me like he was really sad, and immediately I thought he must be kidnapped. Is that racist? I hope not, but my mind spun quite a little tale about why he was so sad and who the man was. Maybe it�s that little kids don�t ever look at me so sad, and his redneck type �Dad� looked kind of mean. I tried to write down the license plate but only got the last three numbers. I�m sure that will be a lot of help should the authorities ever need me. The only consolation was that his window was rolled all the way down. What kidnapper would let his captive ride that way? Hey little boy, I used to carry a handwritten �help, I�m being kidnapped� sign in my pocket when I was your age, just in case. You can stick them against the window when the abductor is busy driving.

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