Tinhuviel Artanis

It’s been an interesting few days.

I’ve been trying to unpack and do laundry, but have been battling where to put what, because I’m having problems getting this chest of drawers and side table put together, and I’m unsure where to place the shelves until I get the couch and have it in the proper position.  So I’m just sort of in a move-in suspended animation until tomorrow, when I’m scheduled to finally get the couch.

As I unpack and sort stuff, I learn of the things that I need and don’t yet have.  Like a broom.  I’ve already asked that someone revoke my Witch Card, because this shit is off the hook.  Who has ever heard of a Witch without a broom?  I was going to use the Swiffer one kind soul sent to me, but I forgot the sweeper needs batteries, so all I can do until I get to a store is just look at it, and look at the floors that won’t be getting cleaned for another couple of days.  Oy vey!

On Wednesday, a maintenance dude came to refurbish my tub and sink.  At first, I was told that Toby, Smidgen, and I would have to be gone for four hours after he had used the paint, but he seemed to think that the complex people were being overly-cautious.  He did warn that the paint had a strong odour, but that was fine, because I liked it once he used it.  Then again, I love the smell of gasoline, so I'm a bit of an olfactory mutant.  He got to work sanding the tub down, as he waited for his boss to bring the paint he needed.  She brought it after about two hours, but she brought the wrong paint, and what the dude needed was all the way in Simpsonville.  He asked if he could return the following morning, and I said yes.  He had to leave all his equipment in the apartment overnight, so I kept a couple of lights on, so I wouldn’t end up falling and breaking my face, or arse, or something else I might need.  He returned the next day and finished the job shortly after Noon.  Right now, I’m super-ripe and look atrocious, because I haven’t had a shower in over 48 hours now.  It’s currently 11:30, so I have less than an hour  to go until I can clean up my act.

Yesterday, Micah was swung by to pick up some incense I had for them, and give me some quarters for bills, so I can do laundry.  Stonesthrow has an on-site laundromat, but the machines only accept quarters, and they have no bill changer.  I found a drink machine in the gym this morning, and thought that might be an option for when I don’t have quarters or a way to get quarters, but the drink machine won’t take my bills!  Frustration is too weak a word for this situation…. Anyway, a few hours before Micah was to arrive, my phone died.  I figured it just needed to be charged.  But it wouldn’t come on, even after an hour of charging.  Nothing I did would make it show any sign of life.  I panicked.  With my health issues, not having a phone is not an option.

Thankfully, Micah was kind enough to haul my butt to AT&T, where I was prepared to bite the bullet and sign a contract, so I could get a new phone.  Everything was in order, until they asked for my identification, which I lost, along with my social security card, in the move across country.  The only way I can get a new phone, the service agent said, was to order it online.  Shiiiiiit!  But she did try this one wee trick to see if there was any hope for the phone, and the battery symbol popped up on the screen.  She explained that, sometimes, phones just get locked up and, if you press the power and home buttons at the same time, it can reboot them, and they are okay.  She suggested I take the phone home, hook it up, and do the reboot.  

IT WORKED!

So, it appears I don’t need a new phone after all.  I just need to learn every clever tip and trick having to do with the iPhone 5s, and I need to do it as soon as fucking possible, before I find myself in a panicked state, simply because I’m ignunt.

Anyway, it was great meeting and hanging out with Micah, whom I initially met online through my friend Cameron.  They are a delightful person, and I’m really looking forward to watching them perform in an outdoor production of William Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night’s Dream, in which they play Puck!  Cameron, Cindy, and I were originally scheduled to go to the Saturday production, but Cameron is now thinking it’ll be Sunday, instead, which works better for me, considering I’m supposed to be getting that couch on Saturday.  Back to Micah, we share a fascination for the Arabic language and alphabet.  They are learning Arabic in school and seemed pleased when I told them that my original Rhyllan alphabet was inspired by the Arabic alphabet.  (I really need to turn Rhyllan and Tarmian Tarmi am Tynillim into digital fonts, but I’ll have to wait to get a printer/scanner for that.)  Micah is a brilliant person, and exudes a deep kindness.  Toby could not get close enough to them when they were here.  When they found out I was a Witch, they expressed some interest in learning more about Wicca, since their brother had recently been talking about it as well.  Once I have all my gear unpacked and have the apartment in order enough to where I can cast a Circle to my satisfaction, I'm going to invite Micah, and anyone else who might want to participate, to an open Esbat ritual.  By then, I'll have furniture for people to sit on, and receptacles out of which they can eat and drink!

I find it telling that I have only been back in South Carolina a month, and I’ve already made a new friend in Micah, and a potential new friend and neighbour, whom I met a couple of days ago.  Her name is Christa, and she stopped me as I was walking to the mail box, because she spotted my Pentagram pendant.  She’s moving in later on this month, and she’s an herbalist/acupuncturist who has dabbled in Wicca in the past.  She wants to get together once she’s settled.  I spent four years in San Diego and only made a tiny handful of friends right at the end of my stay in the area.  It isn’t that San Diegans aren’t friendly, this is about me.  I have to admit I was unwilling to get out there and be proactively social.  To be honest, I think that if I had remained in San Diego, I would have become a shut-in, because my social anxiety out there was out the roof.  I don’t know why, but I intend to suss it out over time, because I think it’s important to know the reasons behind my inability to interact with others there, when I don’t seem to have a problem with it here.  If I discover the roots of this behaviour, I can work to rectify it in the future.

Thanks to my Tribe, another very happy difficulty I’m having with getting unpacked and organised, is I keep getting more packages, which means I’m inundated with boxes, which are getting in the way of unpacking more boxes.  I’m not complaining, I think it’s ironic and hilarious!  For now, I’m holding on to the better-made boxes, and have put out the word that they are available to anyone who needs them, for whatever.  If I haven’t heard anything by Saturday evening, I’m beginning the arduous task of breaking them all down and taking them to the recycling bin across the way.
 

Speaking of Tribe and new friends, I’ve also connected with a local artist, who has created a piece of art for the new pad. I’m looking forward to meeting Modesto and seeing the barn he has drawn.  I had told him to make anything he felt would be good for me and, even though we’ve never met, he decided on a barn.  I have a weakness for barns and, especially, lighthouses, so this was perfect.  I’m thinking the barn will go in the dining room.  I can’t wait to meet Modesto, with whom I hope to work in the future to create an all-inclusive artistic community for the Upstate of South Carolina.  I’m in the market for other art, as well.  I’m hoping Janice will paint me a lighthouse, when her life settles down enough to where she can get back to her painting.  Also, I’ve found this print representing my patron Goddess, Lilith, that I’m keen on putting in the living room.  I also want to get a Tolkien-focused piece of art for the living room.  The other picture I want to put up is the picture of Jesus that Granny painted when I was just a baby.  I grew up believing he was a hippie whose eyes followed me when I moved, and I would flash him the peace sign at least once a day and say, “Peace, brother!”  I left the painting behind when I went to San Diego, because I was afraid it would be damaged in the move.  Now that I’m back, I’m reclaiming it from all the stuff I still have stored in the old house.  Of course, my Shriekback poster will eventually be gracing the bedroom wall.    As for the hall and bathroom, I’m not sure yet what, if anything, I’ll do in the decor department.  Despite my accrual of a shit=tonne of stuff in a very short period of time, I still consider myself a minimalist!

Smidgen vomited day before yesterday, and did so again overnight, but she seems to be doing well, other than those two incidences.  Rene is insisting I stick with the plan of taking her back to Dr. Patch next week, so I’m going to swallow my pride to acquiesce.  If it were me, or a situation that did not involve a living entity, I would just wait to address the issue when I could afford it, but that’s not the case, so off we go to the vet’s office one day next week!  And, actually, as I was writing this, she vomited again.  It was clear fluid with a light yellow tinge to it, so I’m a tad worried that her liver is not doing as well as I had initially hoped.  

I’m out of milk and sugar, so I checked to see if the Instacart service was available in this area.  It is!  So I’m having my milk, sugar, and a couple of other items I needed, delivered in a couple of hours.  Since I’m waiting on this, I’m postponing my shower until after s/he has come and gone.

Something alarming occurred the other day, with which I am only now coming to grips.  I’m still uncertain of how I feel about it, so of course, I have come to the Cliffs to process.  

Here’s the thing:  When Cameron and I went up to Asheville on Thursday, I felt at home, but I also experienced some unease.  It did not feel like when I arrived in Duncan.  Asheville felt like my heart, my origins, but Duncan felt like family.  And family is what I desperately need right now.  Also, most of my non-Internet Tribe reside in the Greenville-Spartanburg area, which encircles Duncan.

If I went to Asheville, I would be on my own.  Completely.  And I’m not sure I want to do that anymore.  In San Diego, I discovered that I was on my own pretty quickly and, even though I was technically with family, I maintained an undercurrent of discomfiture and disconnection for almost the entire four years I was out there.

Given my seizures and other health problems, do I really want to risk total seclusion?  In all honesty, I’m not sure.

Janice is letting me stay with her for a trial month.  It will be a financial boon as I look for a place, but I’m not currently comfortable landing in a place where I no longer know anyone, have no family, and no way to get to a doctor if I had an emergency.  It may not be the wisest move for me to make, and I’m doing my best to make wiser choices, considering the disaster that was the move West.

The grass is not necessarily always greener and, even though the Upstate is the Armpit of Hell, it’s not the Taint, which would be Linda Vista, the neighbourhood in SD in which I lived.  That said, the reasons for each infernal designation are radically different.  The Upstate is the Armpit because of the political and spiritual climate out here.  Even though a good chunk of the population is fraught with narrow-mindedness and ignorance, they’re decent folk, and they understand so much more clearly the importance of family and friendship.  People in San Diego do, too, but the ones I had the most contact with were not among them, so my living environment out there is what makes Linda Vista the Taint of Hell.  It’s no shade on the city of San Diego itself.

The rent here is cheaper, too, which would be a serious blessing for the duration I get settled back in, and discover the things I need to purchase to properly do so.  Asheville still isn’t out of the question.  I still dream of living in the place I was at my happiest, but perhaps it’s time for me to simply be content. Besides, my work in activism would be better served in an area that needs it.  I don’t want to preach to the choir, I want to reach people who have no idea they are living in bondage, a bondage of the mind and spirit.  San Diego is woke as fuck, and Asheville is deeply aware, but the Upstate is caught up in the machinations of Aggressive Stupidity, and many people being carried along in that wave don’t know they have options.  

So, yeah, I’ve got a lot to think, pray, and write about these next few days.  In the meantime, I’m keeping all options open, and I’m waiting for the place I need to be, to be revealed.  I’ll know it when it happens.

I had been waiting to make an official announcement about our moving to Longview, Washington when I better knew more concrete details, such as when we were actually moving. I'm certain this is the first time 99% of you have gotten an inkling that we were leaving San Diego. The following account is extremely abridged, as I'm going to wait until the dust settles and make as full and accurate document as is possible.

The long and short of the reason for the move is that Matt's parents followed through on their ultimatum to Matt to clean up his hoard or get out. Everyone's lives are in an upheaval, yet Matt refuses even to admit he has a problem. You can't be a narcissist and successfully get treated for hoarding, because you can't take the necessary first step of confessing that you aren't fucking perfect. But I digress.

About a week ago, the Mother Unit informed me that I would have to pay more rent, but she would make no guarantees that I'd get any more than what I'm getting for my money now, like a bit more room in their refrigerator (I'm currently using one small produce drawer, which makes for more trips to the store, which exasperates the Unit. All that said, one of the reasons I've lost so much weight is that I would go hungry rather than bear the guilt of inconveniencing the Mother Unit to take me to the store.).

Anyway, my other option is to move back East. ...if I can afford it.

So, about a week ago, and a day after I was essentially invited not to move with the Mother Unit and Matt, I was informed that Matt's parents want us all out of the house by Bealtainne, the 1st of May. I had previously been given the vague impression that the move was going to happen in the late Summer. SURPRISE! Needless to say, I've been scrambling to figure out what I'm going to do and how I'm going to do it. If things go as hoped, planned, and ritualised, I'll be selling the Duncan house back to Aunt Janice and using the money to make the move, not back to Duncan, but home, to Asheville. If things don't go as hoped, Smidgen, Toby, and I could end up homeless and stranded in San Diego.

I am simultaneously elated and petrified, because I don't know on which side the coin will eventually rest. The thought of finally returning home brings tears of joy to my eyes, but the idea of being alone in a what is still to me a strange city, with no way to provide even shelter for my bebbies, freezes my heart with terror. At least I won't have to wait for very long to find out our fate. In the meantime, I'm composing a formal request for the GoFundMe account I'm going to set up. If the sale of the house is successful, I'll refund whatever money is given to me via that method. If it's not, then I can use whatever people give me to subsist until something more decisive is in place. Honestly, though, I think this is going to turn out remarkably well, and perhaps even better than I am dreaming. Since I'm usually steadfast in my assertion that the glass is always half empty, I'm taking this optimism as a very good omen indeed.