The ambiguous nature of the poem certainly mirrored my mood this afternoon. It's the classic fight or flight happening and damn it if I don't go for a flying leap every time. Well, the times they are a changing. It's been in the forecast for awhile...

In other news the tibetan bowl ceremony was every bit as moving and powerful as the last time I attended. A much needed (and missed) hug before and a good waterfall of tears after helped to cleanse the events of today.

I've found myself being shockingly motivated to organize and sort my collective belongings since returning to the lair (even if it is to pack em up and move em out again as of tomorrow night). I think it's cause I have a deep sense of knowing that I'm going to want to be prepared for this next shift that is just about to transpire.

While unpacking the ever present suitcase tonight I came across the specially-purchased-to-wear-under-the-plunging-cleavage-devil-shirt-bra (yes, that one, D). I was hesitant to put the rhinestoned beauty in the laundry pile, as I did not wish to wash away the memories the whiff of double apple hookah smoke invoked. It was my first time last week I'd tried one (on a second date), and I was instantly hooked. Oh, the scrummyness.

Told you, ambiguous. Random. Mood. Taxi?