What makes something sacred? 

Well, um, our thinking can sure make everything takes on a sacred shape but that doesn't mean its sacred, right?   Right?  Right?

Yike. No answer.

Okay, fine,  let's see if my current heroine knows any better...


So there she was, front row seat and all, this very fictional, smart-mouth Missy and know-it-all-diva heroine of Amy's novel in progress.

 And Miss Heroine  is listening to him, Mr. Hero speak to a room-full of people and as he talks, Missy is busy in her head, working overtime to eagerly drink in all his weak points, feeling smug each time she thinks he said something that proved he didn't know everything....er...but that was only once...er...half of once...okay, truth be told, she isn't exactly sure because she never even heard the beginning of that last paragraph because this little irritating prototype rat, oversized hybrid brother of Mr. Hero who is sitting next to her kept on distracting her with  the most annoying whisper every five minutes or so and the latest one wheezed out was. "Would you like to be intimate friends with me?"

Some nerves!!!!   The bloody little twerp of twerps-

And the thing is Miss Heroine hadn't intended to be in front row seat with this little annoying rat, had found the perfect seat in the back row, next to this handsome greek figure who was giving her sweet, sweet attention and just as the conversation turned to steamy, Mr. Hero appeared and beckoned with one finger for her to follow him.   And like some stupid, little puppy with no life, she followed him and took the only remaining seat in the front row he indicated. 

Well, it was too late to change her mind because as soon as she realized he wanted to keep an eye on her and babysit his little Dudley of a brother, it was too late for he had already began to speak.

What awful nerves, the bad pig!!! Oh!!! She fumed.  He was so going to pay big time for his arrogance.   

So naturally, Missy's been seething the whole time, waiting for an opportune moment to get back at him.  She's busily glaring at his little oversized rat of a spoiled brother when something he said caught her attention.

"....isn't that what makes everything profane in this universe of ours?"  Mr. Hero pauses for effect.

Everyone laughs at this point but Missy, all impulsiveness, did no such thing and instead stuck her hand up in the air.

"It's not time to ask questions." Little Annoying brother of Mr. Hero supplied the obvious in another loud irritating whisper.

Oh God, too late.

Mr. Hero is slightly taken aback and then something that appeared suspiciously like laughter took rapid birth in his eyes.  "Yes? You have a question?"

"Yes.  No.  Um...you're wrong." Gulp.  "Everything is sacred."

  "Everything?" He lifted one thoroughly amused eyebrow in query. "And ‘everything' encompasses exactly what?"

Dry swallow.  "Everything, everyone, actions, inactions, emotions-"

He was clearly surprised.   "You considered what Hitler did as sacred?  And how about that pedophile on last night's news who sodomized and killed a five year old?"

Oh, bummer.  Miss Heroine and her blabber mouth, runaway tongue, now how the hell was she going to get herself out of this little...er...huge jam without losing face?  And her face is indeed getting redder by the minute because instead of going on with his boring speech, Mr. Hero is waiting for an answer.

Can anyone help her out?   If you were writing this book and you wanted to save your heroine's face, how would you get her out of this jam?

Don't forget, you don't have all the time in the world, Mr. Hero is waiting for an answer.

Should we let the gloating bastard win?  I mean, he has won so many bloody rounds already!!!

Should she say, "um, you didn't let me finish that question...I was going to say, everything  is sacred and everything is not?" Would that cut it?  Would he see right through her lie that she never intended to add more to her "everything is sacred" line.

Damn. What a dilemma.   How are we going to get Miss Pagli out of this red-faced jam? What should we have her say that will make Mr. all-knowing-bastard and his rapt audience look at her with awe...instead of amusement and other unnamed horrors of this universe?

Yike.  What a dilemma indeed.  Or is it?

LMAO

In fact, I see the whole universe as a re-treat center...omg...omg...omg...what if it is indeed?

Anyway, I don't mean to confuse myself, just want to say that umm...I am already working on it, the creation of a wonderful retreat center just like the one my parents built back in the day.   You didn't know?   Oh.  My bad.  All my fault, I forgot to send out the memo that I am presently constructing a retreat center for everyone who might pass along this way and wants to drop in.  

Anyway, seeing as though my retreat center is still under construction (woman working signs are still everywhere) let me tell you about my parents' retreat center. 

Oh God. I missed that retreat center.  Oh, mom and dad...I wanna come home.

(Yike, where did that come from.  I am such a cry baby.) 

My parents' re-treat center is still standing there on the riverbank to this day...but right now, it's a re-treat center for monkeys and other sweet animals.  Someone who visited there recently mentioned that a monkey actually waved at him. lol.  I bet the monkey thought the guy was his long lost relative.

Okay, back to my parents' retreat center....er...not literally.

1.  It was sweet but smelled of food and mouth-watering baking...and if you look a little further back, you will see, me, me, me, a scrawny-legged, accident-proned, teenaged me, trying to make fudge, the very first thing I learned to cook.   Mmm, can u smell it.  Its so mouth-watering delicious even though it comes out all sticky like toffee.

2. My parents' re-treat center was a healing place for the whole world....and we were never out of visitors.  (Can u see me again in the back-ground, sitting at people's feet, lapping up each inspiring story? Oh, yes, I could never get enough stories out of our many visitors)

3.  In this retreat center, all were allowed to put their feet up and relax.

4.  There were no stupid, my-retreat-is-better-than-your-retreat rules.  My parents would never tell someone to take off their shoes...or how prim and proper they should be or how goody-two-shoes they should act when sitting on the furniture.   I mean, if you know Mother Earth, you will know my parents were similar.  I mean, Mother Earth never tells u not to pick too many fruits right?  She trust that you are picking the whole bloody fruit tree dry because you're in dire need not dire greed, right?  Exactly. My parents were like that.  I say 'were' because my papa is no longer here and my mother now lives in my sister's retreat center.  (lol, funny..that....wherever my mom dwells, a retreat center exists...and my children are benefiting enormously. They are always going over to Grandma for breakfast or just plain ol' loving.)

5. All were welcome at my parents' retreat center, black, white, red, vagabond, scamps, bums, king, queens and beggars.  In fact, my dad's entire work force consisted of the kinds that people would caution other people to avoid.  But daddy's kindness brought out the kindness in these men and women.  They were loyal and sweet and treated me like a princess. So there.

6. Oh, its not as if every experience in this retreat were great ones.  I mean, there were times when my cousins visited in their sophisticated shoes and treated me like I was the bumpkin of the pumpkin universe...but my parents never noticed...only noticed when I was mean to the snubs.

7. And yes, this retreat center did get visited by the occasional Up-to-no-gooders but ha, if they steal anything, my parents would practically beg them to steal more stuff.  Ya know, my parents' kindness were something I never understood until I was no longer living at their re-treat center.  I mean take this scenario....a bad guy tries to beat up your own brother....so your own brother defends himself and ended up breaking the bad guy's arm but instead of congratulating your brother, your parents softly tells your brother that he is in the wrong....and then they pay a visit to the bad guy....gives him money to take care of himself until his arm was fully healed.  I know. I know but u know what,  to this day, the bad guy is now a good guy and treated my parents like they were..um...oasis in a parched desert.  Go figure.

There was another time when a guy stole 888 dollars from this retreat..........but the very next day his wife brought the money back with the words...."it would be a sin to steal from people like you."  However, sweet universe of mine, my baby brother was not so forgiving...becuz the very next week he was on the coconut tree, the 888 bandit arrived and asked him to pick some coconuts for him and my little brother was like, "that'll cost you 888."  Lol.

U know what, I really don't think my parents knew the secret to life...just that they were born with kind genes...either that or goat bit them...or they fell from a compassionate tree. 

However, they made me see that if someone practiced loving rules in other people's retreat centers, the same kind of people will grace their home.........and mind u, there are times when undesirable guests did visit, but once they left (with a whole cartful of free groceries) we never saw them again.  Oh, I'm sure they wanted to come back but the universe probably figured out that I never wanted to see them again. Lol.  Its almost as if someone is not deserving to grace our retreat center, they would never find it again...even though the doors were literally wide open...

I have also learned from being born on my parents' retreat center....that in every good guy there is a bad person and in every bad person there is a good person.   You don't agree?  Well, next time u are drowning, and a bad guy comes to rescue u, tell him to go away and wait for a guy u considered 'good.'   Yike, I could tell u a few true stories but those are tales for another day.

Savvy?

Uh huh, me too even though I am high on madness once again.

Hugs and smiles and may you one day grace my divine retreat center with your divine presence becuz your presence is the best present.

Well, okay, if you want me to categorize it, sure, I'll be your guest.  And nothing is wrong with wanting to put things in a box and label away.  Just like the body, a whole thing with many parts, liver, kidney, spleen, pee-pee, similarly, this whole universe is me, with many parts....people, mountains, sea, skies, mud, pee-pee.

So!!! If my body is not my home, what is? 

Ah.  That's elementary my dear Watson, mere mathematics.

A little birdie once told me that my home is everywhere, so I believed him and now, yes, I can see it too.  MY home is this divine universe and beyond it.

So now u're wanting to know what my body is called?  Seriously, you can call yours what the heck you want to but me, my body is my sacred temple, a place where I go to worship me, me, me...

And yes, I enjoy keeping my temple beautiful, spotless and fragrant.  It gives me gross pleasure to adorn it with flowers, bling and diva things.   Ah, I love my temple and wished I could spend forever in it but sigh, you see, inside my temple is an invisible vessel called the mind...  It's like a magic carpet that loves to whisk me away to whole new alladin kind of worlds.

....And u know what else?......I never tire of coming to my temple.  Mmm.  My temple gets the most pampering and only the best is reserved for it.  I make daily health offerings to my temple.  Anyone seeing me perform this kind of ritual would think a goddess dwell inside.         Seriously, I think many  live inside my temple....a whole universe of beings, trees and oceans and lotus ponds and psst, even a murderer of ants!!! (good thing the RCMP isn't yet aware that my temple is no more valuable than an ant's temple or my temple would be in a serious lock-up!!)

And  now you're wanting to know what the heck am I?

Oh, baby...I thought u'd never ask.  

I'd like to say that i am this universe,  my temple, my body, this rock I am living under.  I am me, I am you, I am everything, I am nothing...but the truth is i am just a skin cell of this universe.... .........................but hey, before u start feeling sad for non-essential me, let me hasten to tell you that inside this one tiny skin cell, a whole universe thrives.......

Savvy?

Well, duh, of course you do.........*rolls eyes*  Hope u also noticed I didn't really answered the question, just blabbered all around it ;-)

Oh, oh, oh. I love this question. It reminds me of me when I was a baby gorl. Mmm, mmm, mmm. A teeny-tiny little me.


God, god, god, why am I answering this question again? Yike, it makes me wished I could pick me up, hold me, change my own diapers. lol.


Oh, well, back to the question of why I am in total love with my own self..er.. I mean my own name.


You see, a few days after I was born, my mom contacted the family priest who chanted a few Hindu words, looked up to the heavens and solemnly predicted that a gorl-buddha had arrived on our planet...lol...oh-kay, alright, alright, back to  seriousness ...only kidding, ppl, ppl...  

So!!!  The family priest asked for the time and date of my birth, then he looked into this thoroughly worn out book and told my mom to call me "a, m and a"

Yike. 

I was basically given a vowel and a consonant. Good thing I wasn't fully conscious or I'd think I had landed on some "wheel of fortune" TV show and not planet earth.

Umm, so yes, if we arranged that in any kind of disorder, my name should have been "A-M-A". And I would have been fine with that, everyone calling me "Ama" as if I was some universal mother. Yike.

However, in those days, in my retarded village, everyone was like monkey see, monkey do. So my mom and the priest tagged "TIE" to my name as if I was going to run away with my own damn name.

Sadly, I became "AMA TIE" Yike. If u think that sucks, think about my poor gorl friends. They were Parba-tie, Madhuma-tie, phulma-tie, Sucky-tie, Retarded-tie and so on and so on...and the whole school of bloody boys never tire of teasing the ‘tie' gorls.

Anyway, I was tired of being a ‘tie' but tagged along with it until one day, during my college days, seventeen whole bloody years later, my gorlfriend re-labelled me. U see, I was new to college and had joined the wrong line on my second day. And along came my loud friend who reached out with one long arm and pulled me out of the line with an "Amy! This is not your line."

Oh yeah, right. That was not my name too...but my friend kept on calling me, "Amy" And before I knew it, everyone, even the teachers and all the other students were treating me like an Amy gorl and to me that meant I was not only eastern but western as well. And now even my own mother calls me "Amy". (Poor dead priest, it's a fortunate thing he can't hear her.)

My middle name however was loved by me instantly. My dad gave that one to me. You see, even though he was never born in India, he kept on dreaming about India....and after I was born, he had to slip something extra Indian-like into my name...and if Indira Ghandhi wasn't the ruling female prime minister at the time, I swear, my dad would have called me "India" or "Hindi" or yike, even "River Ganges". My brothers and sisters still call me Indy, short for Indira and that in Sanskrit means "splendid"

Even though it may sound as if I don't like my ama-tie name, I do. It's all me, unique me...

I have many endearing nicknames as well but my doctor is the only one who still calls me "ama-tie" She absolutely loves it and thinks its unique....and of course that's becuz she never met all the other ‘Tie gorls of my village.

Anyway, today I meant to blog about how Ama-tie, met a bunch of sweet Gaians who had no clue she is a "tie' in Amy's clothes but then I bumped into this question so I will have to tell u about our Gaian meet up another day.

Until then, a warm hug and sweet smiles for all of you, my delicious readers.

And it might appeared as a failed mission but yet mission would be so impossibly accomplished.

Anyway.  Seriously.   A month off would be like winning the lottery for me.  I'd think it was a gift from some non-existent god.  Oh, wow...there'd be some invisible lotus feet kissing going on for a whole five minutes.  Why, I'd be like that cow who jumped over the moon with glee and if any little dog dared to laugh because he thinks I am such a sport, there'd be no dish running away with my spoon!!!

And then, after I danced for a whole hour, to celebrate you see, I'd shut the world down, shut the world out and then sweet slumber for a whole week not that I am tired or anything...just that I am in total love with sweet sleep.  Savvy?

After a week is up, I am really going to swiffer my entire universe...from the top of its hard head to the tips of its delicious toes  and after that's done, I'll write for a whole week........and the final week, I'd let my whole world wide universe back into my domain.

Ah.  What a lovely dream...mmm. Thanks, Gaia, for inspiring me to dream what I hope I am already experiencing in some other universe out there...because I can actually taste the sweetness of it... 

But just in case anyone thinks I am still loco this week from too much water-poisoning last week, I am always careful what I wished for......because you know what?  A couple of decades ago, I had this kind of life........a woman of total leisure...so truly, I have already been there, done that...  Savvy?  Lol.  So what's my point?

*drawling*  Darling, I wasn't aware of how beautiful a thing it was so I need to experience it again and again and again...until I do.

Savvy?

Err...umm... well...I don't.  :(  So there :)

I have the flu. *sniff* (As if anyone need to know that) *rolls eyes*

So I decided to stay at home,  get some extra rest and drink lots of water.  I believe in the water cure...not that I don't believe in medicine but hey, my body has a whole pharmacy inside of it and if it doesn't come to my aid in the nick of time, I guess I'll just have to go get some outside medicine.  *cough*  

Anyway, I have faith in my immune system.   In fact, I love my immune system, it's my real hero, promising to stand by me forever...and all that mushy lovedy, dovedy stuff. 

BASTARD!!! 

My immune system let me down big time, made a whole army of germs from my baby niece, sweet little booger, invade my entire body!!!!  God!!!  God, indeed.  Why did I let the little baby dudette plaster her stinky germs all over my face?  Hmm.  Oh, she is just too sweet.  Ya know, I don't mind, I'd take a whole week of sickness just for one sweet kiss from her. She is as sweet as sugar.  Psst!!!  Just saying that latter part in case her mother happens to read this.  Savvy?

Did I mention I love my immune system?   And oh yes, as long as I don't drown it with too much water, I am sure I will be up to my cheerful self by tomorrow. 

 Okay.  Now where was I?  Ah, yes, I am finished with my new novel.  Synopsis is finished too but it needs a heck of a lot of polishing and frankly I haven't got the inspiration to do it right now, so I stuck it on the back burner for this month.  Also, I want to give my new novel another once over...I would like it to be perfect when it finally meets the world.  I don't want any one out there to pick on my baby for no good reasons.  Bastard world!!!    Yes, my novels are my babies, my vulnerable heart eager to fly off into the huge dangerous world.

 And hey, another thing.  Omg.  I've been so inspired lately to write all genres of novels.  Omg. Omg. Omg. So many sinister plots have been crowding my mind but I have got to finish my other two romance novels first.  Do you want to hear about those?  No?  Okay...maybe just one...the hot one? 

He hee, I have been twittering about it so why not blabber here as well?  BUT hey, here is a secret.  This is not just any romance novel.  This one has been inspired by you, yes, you inspiring Gaia, you.  Its true.  Trust me.  

Mmm, I love writing romance novels.  They are so fun to write but you may not agree that they are lovely books.  What are the names some people out there have for them?  Ah.  Trashy, fluffy, softcore, romantica and much more schmancy fancy names for true thrillers. 

And my darling son came up with this one :-  Erotica in poetic form.  I swear!   And you know what else? He's studying to be a writer.  Who knows, probably to show his mother how much better he is?  Lol, its true. 


And as for the little Missy, my daughter, she is my harshest critic. And she has summed me up as a writer from another world who doesn't understand the lingo of this planet.  Some nerves, eh, especially after that whole condemning sentence was based on the following tweet!!!

"my new Heroine? Um. She wears her 'pagli' label like a bling and the whole world knows she's sweet madness 'cept her. She's such a diva :)"

And the sweet little pagli critic made me write it this way. 

"my new Heroine? Um. She wears her 'pagli' label like bling and the whole world knows she's sweet madness 'cept her. She's such a diva :)"

You see any difference? *LMAO*  Yes, BIG difference.

 Anyway, let me show you what I am working on...as promised by the title.  (See, so it was not only worded that way to lure you in for no good reasons...)

Okay, back to the story.  The blurb for this one (Ah, can't reveal the name as yet) will go along the following lines...just a rough blurb off the top of my head for now. 

Here goes:-

"Amidst the sweet nothings he whispered to her that night was a promise he'd never stop loving her. After they were spent, he expressed a fear that she might be the one to break his heart.  And just before dawn, the callous bastard kicked her out of his life.

Now, ten years later, the arrogant rat is not only acting as if she was the one who broke his heart, why he practically blamed her for his wreck of a life."

However, unbeknowst to her he was already a huge success...(can't leak what area he is involved in....and no...he is not in Secret Service)    How fair was it that he had deliberately not mentioned this part to her?  Well, fair enough if you considered our DIVA was also not whom she claimed to be. 

And who exactly is she?  Well, um, she is a guru, teaching the world ..um...stuff...which also includes showing them how to turn the other cheek, that when someone jilts you, take it as a good sign to move on, see it as freedom from bondage.    However, can the guru take her own advice? 

And you know what else, explosion will result when her hero finds out out she has been plagiarizing his ideas and his philosophy, although she has no clue its his written works she has been using to heal her clients.  Needless to repeat myself, there will be endless conflicts and plenty of sweet, explosive sex.  Lol.   

Okay...sort of an excerpt... rough draft...at the part where Miss Heroine Meets Mr. Hero after ten years apart from him.  (Not from my actual manuscript...but off the top of my head.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he asked in an indifferent tone, cigarette in one hand, bottle of beer in the other.

She was taken aback, had expected something more but definitely not an indifferent stare that told her she could go to hell for all he cared. However, she could also see it was only a façade that he still desired her but didn't want to want her. 

"I-I-" She paused to recollect her thoughts. "I'm here to answer a question you asked me ten years ago." 

"Oh, yeah?" He studied her without a hint of curiosity.  The Bastard!!!

"Oh, yeah." She huffed. "Look, I'll tell you some other time when you're interested...most likely at the end of infinity." She tucked a tuft of escaped tendrils behind one ear and spun around.  To hell with the bastard-

"Oh no, you don't." He grabbed her. "From now on, you're going to complete everything you started."

And bla, bla, yada yada...she gets an earful from him at this point...actually, not really an earful considering he was a man of few words where she was concerned...but more of a short sentence that contained the most stinging words.  

And it stung for days.  That she was the one who jilted him way back then, made him into a failure, a loser, a man forever down on his luck.   Well, that was why she was here, wasn't it, to lend him a helping hand out of the ditch he had purposefully driven himself into?  She rolled her inner eyes hating to admit to herself that coming to help him out was not the only reason she had come back into his life. God, there were too many, plus she needed his help as well.

"So?  What was it I asked you ten years ago?" He frowned.  "I certainly didn't ask you to marry me even though at seventeen you were ripe-" He paused.  (Actually, the author pauses. Yike, I can't remember the question either!!!  Major trouble. Okay. Back to the story....)

"...for marriage." She blurted before she could quell the sentence finisher inside her.  

"I-."  She colored, instantly aware of his sudden slackening hold on her.

The bastard was shaking with laughter.

 "Shut. Up." She hissed, furious at herself for being so weak-kneed around him.

And they lived happily ever after but not yet!!!

That's it for now until the book is finished.  I am at the part where my heroine (Miss. Fiction) feels like a goddess again, so much so, that even her legs and sweet secret places look as if they have never heard of the word, "hair".  Lol and you know what else?  She's about to slide into Mr. Hero's bed, bare bottom and all.  Lol. Trust me, you don't need to read the book to see his reaction...but let's say Missy. Dare Devil is in HUGE trouble.  Oh fine, sweet trouble too.

Footnote :  Amy I Ramdass is in bed right now with her laptop, recovering from the flu. *Cough*

Psst...that above line has been entered for her boss's benefit just in case he happens to read all the sordid things going on inside her head when she should be at work, coughing all over her calculator.  *more coughing*

And as you no doubt can tell, she is even more loco today,  blame the water, it gives her an all time high, making her give away her plot in broad Gaia light.  Yikes. What's this world coming to?  *Fits of coughing*

Anyway, if you dropped by to read this, please leave a comment.  You see, this is not only because Amy has this unrealistic need to confirm she's one crazy earthling, why, she needs to know the names of all her readers (to sue you, silly ;-)  who have read her secret plots, ya know, just in case, suddenly her book gets completed by some shoemaker's elves and is on a bookstore shelves near her and no royalty forthcoming anywhere near her.   Savvy?  So!!! There better be a comment for each and every visitor!!!!  *cough, cough, cough*

*LMAO*  Kidding, ppl, kidding.    But you, my sweet reader,  know that already.  Hugs. Broad smiles.

Umm.  Today is almost over for me. 

How about tomorrow? 

Okay.  Hmm. Let me see.

I guess...um... off the top of my head, I'd like to experience just one goddamn boring day.

Yike. 

I changed my mind.  I already know what it would be like to be bored to death.   I remembered being bored somewhere back in my childhood and I really don't want to relive childhood although I had the time of my life over there.  It's like an uphill climb.... ...and ever since I became an adult, its like speeding down the same damn hill. 

But....weee.   It's a sweet rush, an all time high with only seconds in between to take in the scenery on each daily journey. 

SO. No more boring days please.  The multi-tasker in me would only shoot herself.  And trust me, that would be a top tragedy.

Okay, so how about one fantasy day then?   Ah.  Sounds sweet.  I'd like to be marooned on an island with my current fictional hero. 

Duh? 

Yes.  Duh.  I really don't need to waste a whole wish on this one when I can do this right now if I want to!!!  *Sure, go ahead and roll your eyes for me*

Umm.  How about a snowed-in-day?  I always wanted to experience this but Canada seems to be getting less snow each year.   Bummer! I should have move to eskimo country!!!

So!!!  What to choose? What do I really want to experience today?

Hey!!!   Could I have one of those off-the-Richter-scale hurricanes or rain-storm day?  I'd really like to experience the world in a total shut down mode.

Yike.  Never mind...forget I made this foolish wish.  I mean, if the whole bloody world shuts down, then would germs close shop as well? 

You see?

I really don't want anyone dying because all the doctors are having a merry snowed-in day because of my crazy wish.    And  I really do not want to experience bliss if someone else is going to wallow in misery on my  tab. 

See my dilemma?  It seems as if I  need the cooperation of the whole goddamned planet  for all my other to-die for, unheard of experiences.    And yes, the world should have a say in it, dammit, if one of my experiences is going to affect them in a negative way.

Sight.  Its great I don't have the power to execute foolhardy wishes like those above...

But cripes, can I experience one thing without the whole bloody world wanting to tag along?

Ah.  I know.  Time to step out of this world. 

Yep.  I'd like to spend a day with my counterpart in another universe.  Omg, that would be so awesome, me and moi shopping till we drop.  I mean, who cares that we don't have lots of money, the point is we're having an experience unheard of!!!  You don't think its an ...umm....unheard of experience?  Oh yeah?  Never mind the shopping experience, how often have you spent a day with your counterpart form another universe?  Exactly.  Zero times.

And guess what else?  I get to share all my deepest, darkest, top secrets with her.  I mean, duh, her secrets are my secrets.  Saavy?

No?

What? You don't think I have secrets?  Well, I do.  I have a whole boatful of secrets.  So there.  I am a keeper of secrets.  

*yikes.  I better not blabber too much before the CIA realizes I can universe hop and send me off on some spy mission to infinity and beyond.*


*Lmao*

PS: (Tis just in...thanks to my darling friend Alluvja for making me think.)  I would also like to experience answering today's question with the comments feature turned off. 

Why?  That's mathematics my dear Watson...or is it elementary?

PPS:  "Comments" will be lovingly welcomed in grapevine. 

Hee hee.  Good luck with that?
 Lol. I know.

Okay...now...seriously.          What feels like home to me?          Where am I most comfortable?

I mean, I came to this world via the womb and I thought it was the best place ever.  So of course, I decided to stay in the womb ....well...er...until....until....I was dragged out by some spider called Miss Olive....  Anyway,  I am sure I bawled my head off.  I mean, how was I supposed to know the womb was only a way station ???

Ha.  But you know what?   Now that I am here, out in the open, I think I like this bigger womb even more.  Believe me when I say, I really don't want to go back into that crawl space ever...

But....ditching the womb was not my only sin.   Over the course of my life to date, I have moved a few times, given up smaller spaces for bigger ones (also vice-versa) and each time I think my  new spot would feel like a hell hole, it turns out that I have adapted even more comfortably in the new space...okay...except for my old office!!!  I want it back!!!!  

And you know what else, way before my office got smaller, I moved from a small pond called Guyana to an ocean called Canada.  And boy o gorl,  if you could see me in that first week here in Canada you would think that I lost a whole country.............and if you could see me now, you would know that I not only gained a whole planet, why the whole universe is mine as well :-))   ((So...can anyone imagine what I would gain if I ever give up this space I am in right now?  Ha. ha. hee hee ho.  Hyperspace...here I go :-))

And hey, also on Gaia, when I first arrived here, I was like, wtf, why am I even here?  I mean, it's not as if MySpace ran out of space or anything like that!!!  But guess what, o people, my people, I've adapted so comfortably that if you try to haul me out of this womb like Miss Olive did, ha, you're so going to get your shiny, hiny kicked.  Lol. Lol.

So there.  My point is...I think I am most comfortable in that space where I have stayed a while.........so truly, a prison could become a most comfortable space for me if my mind is willing to adjust to that size as well....because whether it knows of better places or feel safer in others, it all depends on my frame of mind...  

So dear world, give me a hole, any mud hole will do....after all I am a lotus flower with mud toes....

Sniff. It's true.  And one more thing, this blog o mine, did not want to come here in the first place, but guess what?  Ha.  Now that it has seen the space it will occupy, it loves it and it has decided to stay...

Lol, now, how about that?  Your blog just got itself a new neighbor!! 


PS:  Water is the other place where I feel most comfortable and at home.  A sweet substitute for that first space where I had no cares, a sweet little ocean called the womb.  




PPS:  This blog was written with my water brother in mind,  the true heart of water.

Right now, at this very moment, my higher self needs a divine breakfast but holy hour!!!   Look at the freaking time!!!    There must be a time thief in my midst!!!

Sigh.  Hopefully, I'll make it in time for lunch becuz it's divine lunch that I really need!!!

Literally.

And you know how I know?  Psst, my stomach just whispered it to me but in a very non divine way.  "Grrrr." It said.

But I am presently ignoring voices of this kind because I hate having breakfast...er...lunch all by myself...so here I am waiting for my hubby to come home...(he's away this weekend taking care of his elderly father who has lost his memory for most things except eating to survive.  Grrr.  I really don't understand Nature at times, ...actually, I do, never mind my crazy, coffee thirsting mind, so lets move on....)

"So, hon." I asked my hubby one fine day while we were sipping coffee at Tim Hortons. "How come you love your father so much...I mean, wasn't he a tyrant to you when you were younger?"

"No, he wasn't."   My guy glares at me.     Anyone present at Tim Hortons that morning would think I asked him to shoot his father, that I am a sort of misanthropic when it comes to other people's father!!!      Some nerves of those Tim Horton's customers!!!  Why, they don't even know me!!!!

 Grrr.  And why would I even think such a thing. I love my hubby's father, honestly I do.  The man was just as caring as my father. Oh alright.  Fine. I admit it.  To a little girl, one father looked like a  Dr. Jekyll and the other Mr. Hyde....but hey, even back then I could tell that both their hearts were just as big as the Sun...  See?

So I tried again.  (If you know me, I never give up with my curiosity and that's a disastrous thing, trust me.) So I continued.  "Oh right...um...sorry if I spilled coffee on a sore nerve...and oh, if you missed me, I am in my mind, busily mopping up."  But actually, its donuts I am thinking about.   Maybe I should have one after all.  (I sniffed, totally miffed.  Sheesh.   Some people!!!    You try to show them how totally sweet and caring they are and they just shoot you down  then ask questions when it's far too late.)

Umm. However, whatever I said to make him open up, worked!   He reached for my hands.     "All parents were tyrants in some way or the other but if we hold grudges and don't use our compassionate side when others are in need, then aren't we the real Mr. Hydes?"

Oh.  And wow.  Wasn't I just thinking about  Mr. Hyde?  Okay, either my guy is a mind reader or I must have talked in my sleep. Cripes. What else did I rant about?  Omg!  I knew it.  I knew it.  So this is why he refused to budge from his beliefs that I was the one who rode over the garbage can (Although I came up with this amazing theory that only a garbage truck could have possibly flattened a can that flat.) so yes, I must have rambled in my sleep.

I looked at him and knew he spoke a truth.   "I know." I said. "But I still think your love for your papa is genuine.  I mean it takes a lot of compassion to change a grown person's diapers."   My compassion draws the line here. I am sorry but I can't.  I just can't. I absolutely refused to.  I'd rather shoot myself.  (Cripes. Good thing my teacher pointed out to me that if I ever became a nurse, I'd have to...er...um...do the unthinkable.    

"You would do the same for another human being too." My hubby's  voice pulls me back into my surroundings.

I gaped at him in horror.  "Me?" I squeaked.  Why, I'd puke a million times before I get the job done.  And oh god, I'd rather die than see my parents naked!!!  (I mean, there are times when I am very saddened my dad is dead.    This is not one of them.)

My guy smiles. "Yes, you."

I blanched.  Why did he always have to make everything sound like it was the law. "What makes you so sure?"

He took his dear time sipping at his coffee and then, "If it was me suffering from Alzheimer, would you do for me what I am doing for my father."

And then it hits me.  I am stunned by the realization actually. Wow.   "Yes." I said and now I am totally sure of myself.  Wow.   I am amazed at myself in fact.  "In fact, I'd do more than that for you."   ( Well, umm, except that I won't be able to carry him up the stairs, he's is 195 to my 111 lbs of body weight...  but hey, I'll be there for everything else... )

There was a scraping sound as he brought his chair closer to mine. He hugged me. "Thank you, baby."  

And suddenly I was overcome with tears, sad tears for my father-in-law and also happy tears that he brought such an extraordinary child into this world...

SON AND FATHER

...a son who just made me realized that we are capable of so much if we are moved enough..........and that we have the power to move each other into compassionate mode.......................make each other realize that we are all capable of falling into the same hole and that stopping to help someone up is what will make us stronger to help our own selves in future and also give us certain insight to avoid such pitfalls.  (however, if I've ever fallen into a hole where there's no hope that I'll ever be able to help myself, somebody please, shoot me, put me out of my misery ;-)

So perhaps this is really what my higher self wants for me today, to truly practice doing onto others what I would have them do onto me or something divinely similar.

Er...however, lunch has been cancelled for now.  Umm, why?  Duh.   Read above.  Didn't I clearly state that it's not really food that my higher self needs?  Yike.  Now I will have to read above to make sure.  Yike. 

Okay, there is always dinner...but at the rate my stomach is retracting its non-divine 'grrs',  I'll end up with a midnight snack    ;-)