Smokin'

Robin William's character in Dead Again, said. "You are either a smoker or not. Find out which one you are and be that."
Today I saw a "smoker" and she so wasn't. I had a sense I should tell her. I didn't. I mean how would that pan out.
"Excuse me, you are not a smoker."
"&$@! off!"
I am not a smoker. But I can tell if someone is. I think this "gift" started after I saw the movie. Whatever.

Da Moon

Sometimes the moon really does look like it is smiling. I could be projecting but today I think it looks shocked. Its mouth is open and its eyes are astonished. The moon is not yet full; two and a half days until that monthly event. But what will the full moon bring? What will come to fruition by the shining moment of 3 stars on Saturday night? I hope it will be peace. Not of the worldly variety and more expansive than the inner kind, but peace nonetheless.

Torn

I used to work as a bartendress. At a certain point during that venture, I encountered a wedding guest who had brought his own G&T mug to the event. After maybe the 5th drink I realized I was in the wrong business. Why was I, a Pisces, employed in a job that supported addictions? We all have our vices. Mine are mostly food-related but I think they are under control. Either way I now find myself in a similar predicament.
I have a creative writing gig in which I must boost the ratings of internet sites that promote another popular addiction for some, a mere pastime for others.

Both last night’s repeat episode of CSI and a brief advertisement on Fashion TV (AKA the boob channel) are making me rethink my role in this field. On the other hand, creativity is what is driving me and maybe these stories will inspire me to write children’s books.

A class I took over 5 years ago, spoke of animal symbolism. When you see a certain animal/insect/bird/dare I say person, you should think about their qualities and why the universe allowed this interaction at this time. The spider has often made itself present at specific times in my life where my creativity was not being fully realized. The beautiful creature from yesterday met an unfortunate end; squashed inadvertently in the bathroom. She was not quite as large as Aragog but very much as dead. Do I read into this course of events as a sign that this brand of creativity should also be squashed? Or am I merely in the desert where spiders abound and TV has temporarily overrun my mind?

And why is a man narrating a tampon commercial?