2006-01-22 @ 6:55 p.m.
I was going through my AOL favorite websites this weekend and cleaning it out, because I do tend to haphazardly save things when I look at them once on the Internet, thinking they're really important like "The Worst Habits of your Astrology Sign" (mine said: Aquarius - Water-bearers get into the habit of creating completely self-sufficient lives. Unfortunately, this makes it difficult for them to achieve intimacy. Basically, Aquarians are afraid that relationships will compromise their independence. Fortunately, these folks love to experiment. By treating intimacy as an exercise, this sign can relinquish control for the sake of loving relationships.
Like duh! There it is in black and white, "A". I'm afraid of my independence being compromised by some big galoot who would want to hog the remote control and tell me I can't eat cereal while I'm watching TV or spy on my neighbors or write blog entries naked. It would be disastrous, I tell you! Disastrous! Aquarians are ethereal. They cannot be captured by hand. Nor told to do things. They're just totally the boss of their own underpants and that's it. Got it?
But I did find an utterly fascinating article on feng shui, and once I figured out that it wasn't some kind of Chinese noodle dish, I sat and read it, because it promised me potential wealth and happiness, if I just move a couple of things around in my house. Can you imagine that? Move the damn bed 3 inches to the North and I'll win the fucking lottery! Why didn't someone tell me that sooner????
So here is a clip from the article that is supposed to make my life better. Feel your life improve, just as you read. I guarantee it:
10 Feng Shui Fiascoes: What NOT to do to attract Wealth, Health and Happiness
My reply: Now I know why I don't have any money or iPods or Mac computers or satellite dishes or diamond rings. I don't HAVE a front door. I come in through the kitchen. I mean, I do have a front door, but it leads out onto a porch and than whooomp. I would fall 20 feet to the first floor. Not good. Next....
My reply: Exercise equipment? Wait. Let me visualize myself with a Thighmaster between my legs. Ha! Was it good for you? The only energy burned in my bedroom these days are the large assortment of batteries required to run my large assortment of sex toys. Thanks, Energizer Bunny. Next...
My reply: Like ewww! I don't have musty newspapers or dirty laundry anywhere. And I must say, every one of my
My reply: Sorry Feng, old buddy, but when you live in an apartment as small as mine, your closets are destined to be jammed if not overflowing. I'm not Bree on "Desperate Housewives". I had to fit like 800 boxes into 2 small closets, so I guess I'll just have to wait for my "burdens to lift" and marry a rich guy with big (cough) closets. Next...
My reply: Lord knows I definitely want to abandon myself to pleasure, daily, if not hourly and I'm all about employing an artist to fill your walls with art, so woot(!!) for that suggestion, just as long as I don't have to put up one of those country borders around the ceilings with cows or something. I prefer Kandinsky. Next....
My reply: Ok, I'm a little confused...keeping the lid down. You mean the whole lid or just the seat that guys leave up? Because I HAVE been wondering where all my wealth has been getting sucked to. I mean besides the Philippines. But hey, if it'll work, I'll nail the bathroom door shut! Next...
My reply: Oh Mr. Feng, you are so full of shit. Washing windows is probably my most joyful household chores. I love washing windows. I lurve it. I dream about it....strapping on a bucket and grabbing a squeegee just so I can have sparkling windows! So where's my fame? Why hasn't anyone recognized and celebrated my talents. I want answers, dammit! Next....
My reply: You know Feng, I'm starting to think you're a little anal, but actually I'm with you on this WD-40 thing. If I could I would offer to de-squeak my entire apartment complex. I just wish I could get the squeak under my computer chair to shut up. It sounds like I'm running over a kitten everytime I roll my chair, which is a little disturbing. Next...
My reply: "God said, "Let there be E-Bay..." and suddenly your crap is somebody else's treasures. Yay!
My reply: It really goes back to that most unfortunate event with the Easy Bake Oven in about 1965. The smoke. The melting plastic. It was traumatic for sure and I just never learned to cook. My mom wouldn't teach me after that either. And I didn't even take home economics in high school. I was off working on the school newspaper and playing the piano for school theatrical productions. I didn't have time to learn how to make spaghetti in Mrs. Beck's Home Economics class. And yet now I'm finding out its affecting the feng shui of my entire house? Damn! Had I known, I would have tried at least one class like "Intro to carrots". And than there are the lasting effects, like what if, miracles of miracles I ever do
So I guess its safe to say my feng shui is now permanently fucked up. And its all because of an Easy Bake Oven. Pray for my shui, won't you?
Lyrics by Lennon/McCartney. All angst copyright by awittykitty