Great One Liner

Tamiko left her cat with me to look after until she returns from Japan. The cat is depressed and missing Tamiko, but I'm doing the best that I can. I commented on it to Mariana last night. Of course Slum had to pipe in.

"Shit, man... I am depressed!"

"Yes, but I like the cat."

I couldn't resist. I proceded to laugh maniacally at my own joke.

Slumdog must be really pissed off after our encounter this afternoon. She just left the house and slammed the front door as hard as she possibly could. It's an old house. I hope it doesn't come off the hinges one these days. I might have to beat her with it.

Router this Bitch!

Things were pretty copasetic with Slum last night. Although she didn’t even let Tamiko’s body get cold before she started tossing things out of the kitchen. It makes no difference to me as long as she isn’t tossing my stuff. I was in a good mood so I offered her one of my roasted beets and we sat at the kitchen table like civilized human beings.

Since she moved in and attached her Vonage crap to our wireless router we have had problems with the system crashing. The internet stopped working yesterday afternoon and when I got home today it was still down, so I took my laptop to the source, unplugged the router, and put the cable directly into my computer to check my email. The phone rang and it was the owner of the house, Kristina, who I am really fond of, and we ended up chatting for a good while.

When I got off the phone I went upstairs to check out the paint swatches I’m considering for my new room when I encountered an irritated Slumdog.

“Is the wireless down again?” she asked in an irritated tone.

“It seems that way. I had to plug it directly into my computer to check my email.”

There is a window opening between my new room and the office where the wireless router is located. I could see her messing around with the wires while I was holding my paint swatches up to the wall.

“This is my new office!” I chirped, quite happy with myself.

Then she looked up with a snarl on her face.

“I have wasted an hour trying to fix this problem. Why did you leave the cable connected to your computer? You should have put it back as soon as you were done! I wasted an hour messing with this!”

I was taken aback by the overreaction and indignation at something that was just not a big deal. Not to mention that an hour was a complete exaggeration. It was half an hour at best, and I had gone without an internet connection for nearly 24 hours.

“WHAT?”

“I have wasted an hour on this!” She barked again.

Just last night she was bragging to me about how she could help me out with my math homework because she is good with math and has a very logical brain.

“Well, I guess you should have used your logic to follow the cable to see that it was connected to my computer!”

This did not go over well.

“I am not logical brained person!” She yelled back at me.

“You were last night!” You idiot!

“You shouldn’t complain about anyone in this house being inconsiderate. YOU are the most inconsiderate person in this house!” She barked.

“Oh please… Shut up! It’s over. Get over it. Be present”

She muttered something else as I was walking away.

“You know…, I said to her, “You should watch your Ps and Qs because I’m pretty sure Kristina wouldn’t be too happy that there are a couple of potheads here smoking pot in the house”

Ha! Childish perhaps, but oh it got her goat!

“Oh whatever.” She said.

I returned downstairs where Tamiko’s boyfriend was picking up the last of her things. I chatted with him for a while and then went back upstairs to get my computer. When I was going back downstairs she asked if I had a minute. I figured she wanted to have a little “let’s talk and work this out” session.

“No. Actually I don’t.”

“I just want to show you how to fix the router if it goes down again.

I started to say okay and then she said something else in a surly tone.

“Ya know what. Not now. There is a little too much hostility. You can show me later when you’ve stopped being a complete bitch!”

Tamiko’s boyfriend heard my comment and gave me a smirk as I was descending the stairs. Slumdog was still yelling after me.

“Oh I guess you can tell Aunt Kristina! I don’t care!”

“Oh… whatever. SHUT UP!

“I guess you can see there is lots of love in this house,” I said to Tamiko’s boyfriend.

“I love it,” he said facetiously. “I love drama!”

“Well, there is PLENTY of it here…”

Oh, if she wasn’t on my shit list yet. You can bet she is now.

Postcards from the Deep End

I went off the deep end last night after one too many hours of sleep deprivation. Mariana decided to have a slumber party. Her friend showed up on the doorstep at 11:00 p.m. I was immediately peeved because I knew for sure that meant lots of noise and no sleep for me. Again.

I tried to take the high road. I really did. My attempt at doing a little bedtime reading was soon disrupted by their chatter and thumping around in Mariana's room, which is right above me. A surge of anger sent me out into the hallway where I yelled up the stairwell and through her door – one of her favorite tricks.

“MARIANA! I NEED A MOMENT WITH YOU PLEASE … MARIANA???.”

She finally popped her head out and I went on a tirade that went something like this:

“Why would you think that it’s okay to have a slumber party on a week night? You are totally inconsiderate. You share a house with other people and you know the noise just echoes through the house. If you and your friend need to hang out this late you should go to a bar!”

“I’m sorry…”

“You’re sorry? And then what? What are you going to do?”

“Go somewhere else?”

“Yea. I think that sounds like a good idea.”

With that I stomped back to my room and slammed the door. The "somewhere else" that she decided to go, was the kitchen. It was quieter for a while and I nearly got to sleep, but it wasn't long until they went back upstairs and started thumping around and chattering again. I gathered that they were getting ready for bed. Meanwhile, I had passed my window of opportunity to fall asleep and I was PISSED. It was nearing 1:00 a.m.

I got out of bed in a major huff and did what any housemate bent on revenge would do. I blasted Black Sabbath with my door open and went into the kitchen to bang around every pot, pan, dish, or any other object that might make obnoxious noise. I was completely possessed by sleep deprived rage. No one else was home at the time, so I was free to be as crazy as I wanted to be. Then Rubi came home.

She must have thought she’d stumbled into a mad house, when I, the one who is usually tucked away quietly in my room, was blasting heavy metal and slamming things around the kitchen. She cautiously entered the room and approached me with a blank stare of confusion on her face.

“Oh. My. God. What is going on?”

I went on another tirade about missing my beauty sleep due to Mariana’s complete lack of consideration for anyone in the house.

“I’M FUCKING SICK OF IT!”

She looked at me with her mouth gaping. “I’ll be right back,” she said.

A few minutes later she returned with Mariana who had clearly been crying. Rubi made her sit at the table with us to duke out the issue. Rubi was doing most of the talking for Mariana which pissed me off even more.

“What are you? Her mother?” Mariana, do you have anything to say?”

She just whimpered that she has tried to be quiet. It was no surprise that she played the victim and I was the villain. I think I scared the crap out of her though and I’ll bet she’ll find a way to be more considerate from now on.

“I am on about a 20 hour sleep deficit,” I said slowly to them. “When I don’t get my sleep this is what happens. I go off the deep end.” I looked at Mariana, “Welcome to the deep end.”

Rubi went into a lecture about how no one is purposely being vicious, and yada, yada, yada and then…. She revealed why she had stopped talking to me when she moved in. Apparently it was because her tea kettle kept getting moved off the stove and she thought I was doing it on purpose to make some point that she wasn’t welcome in the house.

I live with crazy people. I think I have gone crazy too.

Breakfast and Boobs

The bad news is that Tamiko is moving out. She has to go back to Japan because of a visa issue. I’m really sad to see her go, beside the fact that I really like her, she has also been my ally against the two crazy bitches. The good news is, I’ll be moving into Tamiko’s room, which is the master suite. It’s so big it’s like an apartment inside the house, minus a kitchen, of course. But it will remove me from a lot of the madness that goes on downstairs, including but not limited to, 3 a.m. tea parties. The even better news is that included with the room is the responsibility of “house manager.” So, that means I’ll be the boss of those bitches! There, I managed to use the word “bitches” twice in one post. I’m so hip-hop.

This morning we had a farewell pancake breakfast for her. It was actually pretty nice. Some days I can tolerate Rubi in small doses. She said something this morning that was actually funny. She was supposed to knock on my door at 7-ish so we could all start preparing breakfast for Tamiko, but instead my cat woke me up at 7:30.

“Why didn’t you wake me up? You were supposed to knock on my door at 7:00,” I said to Rubi.

She look at me and paused for a moment before she said, “I’m scared of you dude!”

We all burst into laughter. I guess my mission has been accomplished.

Breakfast was very pleasant for the most part. We had pancakes, scrambled eggs, fresh OJ and coffee. My only complaint would be her table manners. She smacks her food. I guess closing your mouth when you eat is not as widely practiced in India as it is in America. And I probably could have done without seeing her boobs. Thankfully, I was able to keep my breakfast down

Bi-Polar Express

I started the day by getting in touch with my softer side and making a conscious decision to treat Slum with the compassion and respect all living beings deserve - even if said living being is an annoying pain in the ass. When I entered the kitchen she was, as usual, sitting at the table. I said good morning. She responded in an equally courteous manner. We had what I would consider a positive conversation about art and creative living.

On my return home in the evening she was STILL in the kitchen. For ****’s sake! Does this woman have a life? Does she ever leave the house?? She claims that she went to the gym. She doesn’t look like someone that frequents a gym…. In any event, she was not quite as warm as she’d been in the morning. While she was responsive, she seemed annoyed by my presence in the kitchen. She soon after took her pot of tea and bowl of Special K to her bedroom.

About an hour later Mariana came home and she too went upstairs. There was radio silence for about half and hour. I went into the kitchen to wash up my dishes when I suddenly heard a buffalo coming through the door behind me. Alas, it was only Slum with Mariana trailing closely behind.

“Hey Dude!” She yelled as she came at me with a stupid grin and dirty dishes.

“Hey…,” I said, slightly frightened.

“OK… WE ARE SO HIGH!”

Mariana just stood there looking at me, as if she was concerned about my reaction to pot smoking in the house. I think she thinks I’m some sort of naïve nun or something. She has no idea.

“Um… Wow, yea, it would appear so…” I said to them both.

They broke into laughter, because everything was just so…funny?

“I just got off the phone with Raaaaaaaj,” and she leaned towards my face with wide eyes as if I should be impressed. “He is sooooooo gorgeous! Raj.”

“That’s great. That’s exactly what men should be, right? Gorgeous.”

My dry humor is lost on her.

“He’s a leeeeeeo! Raj!”

I felt like I was having a conversation with Stewie from Family Guy, except there was much less intelligence involved. I watched them devour a whole baguette with olive oil and balsamic vinegar and then I had to step away from the stupidity.

Morning Meltdown

As the days go by I realize how much Rubi turns my stomach with her know it all attitude and plastic emotions. This morning Mariana had a minor meltdown. We are women. It happens. We were all in the kitchen, and still being half asleep, I didn’t immediately realize what was going on.

“Are you okay, girl?” Rubi asked.

Mariana just nodded with her head hanging, face red and tear-stained, looking like a child that had lost her favorite toy. It was only then that I realized that something was wrong.

“What’s wrong Mariana?” I asked her.

At that point Rubi walked up to her and hugged her from the side and said “I love you.”

What?? You LOVE her? Really?

I wanted to punch her in the face, but I just rolled my eyes and went back to making my coffee. It turned out that what set her off was not having transportation to get to an appointment. That’s when Rubi started in on one of her lectures. I mean, why would she miss this prime opportunity?

Last night, like, I was watching the Oscars, dude, and Kate Winslet won for The Reader and she was like, ‘I have imagined this day since I was 7 years old. I used to sit in the bathtub with a shampoo bottle a imagine this moment.’ So, dude, don’t freak out. You’re gonna manifest what you need.

I had to pipe in before I exploded.

“Or maybe you just had a good cry because you needed to. You just had some energy that needed to be released. Kind of like an orgasm, but not as much fun.”

Mariana laughed. Slumdog ignored the comment and started up her lecture again. Mariana always sticks around to listen to her bullshit, so she’s on her own, but she’s getting a ride from Slum to her appointment, so maybe she’s not as gullible as she seems.

The Other Side of Things

I find myself at home on a Saturday night sorting my sock drawer, no doubt for the lack of a man in my life. Slumdog is upstairs doing God only knows what and a scary thought just came to mind. What if she has a blog about me? Now that'd be entertainment! Everyone knows there are two sides to every story (of course only mine is accurate). But alas, that would require that she have a brain - and since she argued with me that Sanskrit is not actually a language, I'd have to say she is lacking in that department. Much like Latin, it may not be widely used, but it is most definitely a language, and not just any language, a mother language. I think her argument went something like this:

"Sanskrit is not actually a language on it's own. It can be spoken in any language."

"You mean a transliteration of Sanskrit can be spoken in any language," I said, trying to throw her a rope.

"No, it's not a language."

"Well, what are those squiggly symbols I can't read then?"

"Oh, that's Hindi."

If I am not mistaken, Hindi evolved from Sanskrit just as the Spanish language, among others, evolved from Latin. But Slumdog knows all...

Wedding Bells

It seems that there is going to be a wedding. Things are back on track with Rubi's romance. Raj called her on her birthday and she is ever so much in love.

"I'm think I have to go to India soon..." she said in a breathy voice with a grin from ear to ear.

The glimmer of hope on my face must have been apparent. I would pay her ass to go to India.

"You know," she added, "My astrologer says I'm supposed to get married this July."

"Really?" I said, feigning interest.

"Yes, and he has been right about everything else. I know Raj is the one. I just feel it!!"

She was as giddy as a 40 year old woman pretending to be as giddy as a school girl. It's so incredibly contrived and phony that it's tough to hold back the puke.

As if listening to her "make believe" love life wasn't enough, she decided to start in on mine.

"We have to find your man. Not A man, but THE man!"

"Um, no we don't."

This was not the first time she had broached the subject and I was starting to get a little fed up with it.

"YOU are projecting YOUR needs and inadequacies on to me. I don't NEED a man. I am quite content on my own. I am sorry if that makes you feel uncomfortable."

I kind of barked it at it her and the smile slowly melted off her face.

"Well we could at least go to a party and see what happens..." she said almost coyly.

"Whatever."

With a smirk she softly said, "Sometimes it is what we resist that we need most."

I think this "getting a man" business is all bullshit. She just wants to hang out with me. I hope that Raj is out there somewhere planning his proposal.

Sad Goodbye

Yesterday was an incredibly sad day in the house. We had to rush Tamiko's elderly cat to the pet hospital. He was almost totally non-responsive, just lying limp in my arms while Tamiko drove us as fast as she could on the freeway with alligator tears streaming down her face. I couldn't hold back my tears either with such a helpless creature nearing its death. I prayed for mercy and repeatedly chanted Loka Samasta Sukino Bhavantu softly over him - the mantra for eternal peace and happiness for all beings.

He died shortly after we arrived at the hospital from acute kidney failure. Tamiko was hysterical. My heart was so heavy as I watched her sob over his body. I wished there was something I could do, but all I could do was stay with her.

On the drive home she insisted that we go visit my horse.

"I know you were going to see her today, but you came with me instead. We'll go see her."

"OK," I said, "maybe we could stop for some carrots?"

"Yea," she said, "I don't want to go home right now."

I couldn't blame her for that. We spent about an hour with the horses. Just being in the company of horses can take the mind off the worst of problems for a little while.

Walls? What Walls?

Admittedly I’m suffering from a severe bout of PMS this week, but I’m really getting very close to knocking someone’s block off in this house. Mariana might be the winner. I was sitting quietly at my desk feeling “in the zone” writing my morning pages when a voice broke the spell…

“Marissaaa?”

WTF? It’s Mariana in the kitchen, yelling my name, not through one door, but two. More than a little annoyed I got up and went into the kitchen.

“Yes?” You ill mannered imbecile…

“How do I get the electricity to the microwave to come back on?”

Seems that the eight electric heaters running in Rubi’s room are overloading the circuits and tripping the switches. So unusual for her to only think of herself…

“You need to go outside, open the little box, and figure out which switch has tripped. The heaters in her room,” I pointed up, “are overloading the circuits.”

“Is she here?”

“I don’t know…” I said indignantly.

Then she bumbled out into the hallway and ignored MORE walls and doors.”

“Rubiii?”

No answer?

“Rubiii?”

“Tamikooo?”

“Is your electricity on?”

Pause. Tamiko must have answered.

“Yea. It’s just that I was flipping switches so I wanted to make sure your electricity is on.”

For f***’s sake. I guess she would deal with it if her electricity is off… far less annoying that your voice penetrating her little sanctuary.

I had no choice but to blast Lo Fidelity All Stars to drown the noise and “launder my karma.”

Insomnia Café

Last night, or should I say this morning, I got a rude awaking at 3:00 a.m. Rubi and Mariana were having a tea party. Bleary eyed and pretty pissed off, I opened the door to the kitchen to see the two of them huddled around the electric heater, having a cozy moment to the sound of the pouring rain.

“You guys...” I said with exasperation and squinty eyes, “It’s 3:00 a.m….”

“Sorry… We're celebrating my birthdaaay,” she said in a girly voice trying to be cute and innocent.

“That’s great. But I’m trying to sleep.”

With that I went back to my room and fumed for an hour, unable to sleep. At least the rain lulled me back to sleep eventually.

I’m not sure how much more my PMS riddled brain can handle this week before I lose my temper with twiddle dee and twiddle dumb.

Love on the Rocks

It would seem that Rubi’s long distance love affair has gone awry already. Raj didn’t call her when she thought he should, and once she finally called him, she did not get the reaction she wanted. Apparently his response was “Who is this??” She was appalled and answered, “Me!”

“How many women is he involved with that he doesn’t know the sound my voice?” She directed the rhetorical question at me.

Deeply upset she went on to share that she has a little problem with letting the guy “lead.” This being a complete contradiction to her lesson about being Queen bee and using her DSL connection to the universe to direct and guide the connectivity challenged male species. That said, what could I do but empathize?

“Yes. I know. I have a hard time letting men be men too.”

Then she wanted to give me a physical demonstration to really drive home what she meant.

“Give me your hand.”

I apprehensively gave her my hand. She placed it on top of her fist and started making small circles.

“Just let your hand follow mine. Don’t resist or try to lead, just let your hand follow.”

“Ok…,” I said, feeling slightly unnerved by the unsolicited intimate contact.


“Now if I do this…” She gave a little push into my hand which I instinctively resisted.

“See, that is okay. That’s how we give men boundaries, and he will be okay with that, but we have to let them lead.”

I’m not saying she doesn’t throw out a good point here and there, but the inconsistencies put a big hole in her big picture. I guess I’m just confused. I’m sure it will all line up and make sense once I have my big breakthrough. Right?

Blowjobs and Skittles

Yesterday I was informed that this whole blowjob business was made up by women. Apparently men have just been polite all this time, only allowing us to blow them because we like to do it. It is not actually in their nature to receive, according to Rubi, anything.

“Men don’t like getting blowjobs. They are givers not receivers. They only let us do it because we want to. They want to give to us.”

She said this with a straight face and believes it 100%

“Wow,” I responded. “I think we’d better take a survey on that one.”

Fellas? Comments please…

In addition to this oral update, if you will, it has also come (no pun) to my attention that the Valentine Skittles meant for Rubi are being ignored. Mariana thoughtfully placed three Skittle filled hearts on the counter with each of our names on it. I thought it was quite cute and since Skittles are my favorite I was doubly happy when I returned home last night. She had also scrawled on the sounding board (a dry eraser board on the fridge) “Happy Valentines” inside the heart she had painstakingly drawn with a red marker, complete with an arrow through it. I jotted a small note of thanks next to it.

When I got home this afternoon I noticed that Tamiko had done the same, but Rubi’s heart was still laying on the counter… ignored. Considering she never leaves the house and keeps her ass parked in the breakfast nook for hours, there is no way she overlooked it. Trouble in paradise perhaps… a lover’s quarrel? An oral argument?

To be continued…

She's a Heeler

I have not had a chance (or the stomach) to spend any quality time with Rubi for the past few days. I really want to sit down with her and get the details on how to have a “breakdown” in order to create more money, and more importantly, a Mini Cooper S. I mean, with all that fine insight on Brangelina, I’m starting to think we might be on to something.

However, I’m a little miffed with Rubi right now. She only leaves the house on Tuesday and Thursday evenings to go to her acting class. She must be pretty good because she acted her way into this house. She’s not actually an actor but an aspiring director and screenplay writer. Welcome to Los Angeles. Anyway, she must go to the bar with her classmates afterwards because she usually gets home well after midnight. That’s fine except that the front door to this castle weighs a ton and she can’t seem to figure out how to close it lightly. Then, without removing her heels, she totters up the Spanish tile stairs and into her room to do at least six laps back and forth across the hardwood floor. Sleep is clearly not included in her self help plan.

She and Mariana are making breakfast together as I type. Moments ago there was the familiar tapping on my door.

“Melissa?” It was Mariana.

“Yea?”

“Can we borrow some your coffee?”

“Sure, help yourself…” Because it grows on trees…the Starbuck Tree.

Privacy Please

All that talk this week about “breakdowns” and “break-throughs” finally got to me. I had one salty dog too many with an out of town visitor on Tuesday eve that rendered me useless yesterday. I was lying around feeling miserable when I heard a knock at my door. It was Rubi wanting me to sit down for tea.

“Hey – you want to come have some chai with me and Mariana?” She chirped.

Through a small crack in the door, trying to hide my disheveled appearance I growled, “No, thanks, I’m in a mood today.”

“Oh, well there is no better way to get you out of a mood than to sit down to tea with us!”

“Um, no, not really. Thanks though…”

[Sound of door shutting AND locking]

I crawled back in bed with my laptop to continue the marathon of Family Guy I had been engrossed in. Then I heard light tap, tap, tapping on my door. I ignored it. Tap, tap, tap again, pause… and then it went away. Honestly, has she no respect for personal space?

After that the two love birds starting watching movies on Mariana’s laptop in the breakfast nook. Their incessant cackling sending me into irrational fits of rage. They sat there for hours, until Mariana finally went to bed around 10:00, but Rubi stayed there until God only knows when, surely out of pure spite.

Tea for Three

Mariana and Rubi have been having ritual tea parties in the breakfast nook for two weeks now. I only began getting invitations a few days ago when the cold war between us ended. Last evening the two peas in a pod returned home from a full day at the Korean spa and Rubi immediately started to set the table for tea. She once again offered a spot at the table, and for the first time, I accepted.

Rubi was actually fairly normal, except for the usual overuse of the word “dude” and “man” which is always so attractive on a woman in her late thirties. I had to fish a little bit, but I got her to talk a little bit about Hinduism. I pulled out my copy of the Bhagavad Gita to impress her. These are actually the types of conversations I had hoped to have when I carefully handpicked her from the pool of roommate candidates.

She said that the temples in India have erotica painted on the outside of them to represent all of the worldly pleasures we are meant to experience before we can move forward in our evolution. Hoorah! I wondered if I had fulfilled my requirements yet. Surely not.

Mariana sat slouched in her chair, mouth gaping, eyes drooping, as if she had smoked a bowl (and probably did) before sitting down to tea time. She only gave the occasional “huh,” or “yea,” in agreement. Maybe my presence at the table was detracting from their vibe together. Normally, when they are having tea I can hear Mariana boisterously cackling at everything that rolls out of Rubi's mouth. I wonder if Rubi knows that Mariana is bisexual…

Fairy God Mother

Tamiko, my Japanese roommate, is 100% confused by all of this “be a queen” business.

“What’s that mean?”

I could see the language barriers going up, and she was asking me, an American, to translate the ramblings of an Indian in a way that her Japanese brain could understand. That would, of course, require that it actually make sense to me.

“She says I should act like a queen. Like, does she mean like the movie. Did you see the movie the Queen?”

I couldn’t help but laugh at that one. I’m still not sure if she meant to be funny.

“I don’t know,” I said. “All I know is that you have to put down your sword.”

“Sword??”

We both laughed.

“You know she told me the other night that she was put in the house to help us all sort out our problems and reach our potential.”

“What??” Tamiko screeched in disbelief.

“Um, yea. So, I said to her, you are like our fairy God mother then? And she said we could call it that if we wanted to.”

You never know what gems you will find on Craigslist.

Slumdog in Love

Slumdog is in love. She came bursting into the kitchen gloating about a guy from India.

“I am in Love!”

Mariana and I just waited for the rest of it to spill out.

“He called me from INDIA! And we talked on the phone for ONE HOUR!”

“He called like three times and I finally took his call… I’m so PLAYING HIM,” she said with a rotation of her neck, like she’s a sista or something.

Still in her PJs at noon, her black hair looking like Medusa, she bounced around the kitchen putting on a dramatic display of her joy over this new found love.

“I’m in LOVE!”

Mariana, being the impressionable, gullible 24 year old that she is, thinks this is cute in some way.

“You are so adorable I can hardly stand it!”

[Awkward silence]

I’m going to puke…

More on Space Clearing

According to Queen Rubi we have to first clear a space for our vision to manifest in our life, which seems odd since she also says that everything is an illusion and it seems to me that illusions wouldn’t need much space, but I digress…

Your life is like that chair. She pointed to the empty chair at the breakfast table. If it is cluttered with papers, and junk, no one will sit in it. But if you keep the chair clear for someone to sit in it, they will. People are LOOKING for chairs to sit in. The same as men are LOOKING for women. But the woman has to be a clear space.

Okay, this is starting to sound a little bit like Scientology to me…

Lesson # 2 – How to Control a Man

This topic came up because another roommate has been having some issues with her boyfriend. Slumdog has the answer to EVERYTHING. It’s amazing. She’s like a human Eight Ball.

She has to be a queen, not a princess. You can’t control a man by pulling out your sword. We have to put down the sword, be vulnerable so that he wants to protect us. Once they see us as their queen, not a princess, they will protect us with their life.

This is the part where she cites Angelina Jolie as a prime role model.

When she was with Billy Bob Thornton she was acting like a princess, but now, she is Brad’s Queen. He will do anything for her. He’s building houses in New Orleans, and changing diapers of kids that aren’t even his!

While this is certainly impressive, I had to question her implied reasons. “Well, maybe that’s because she fucking gorgeous??”

She continued:

That is not the reason. She was gorgeous when she was with Billy Bob, but she did not create and hold her vision for her life. Women are designed with a DSL connection to the infinite. Men are dial up. They need our direction. We have to be queen and allow them to protect us. We are not meant to protect ourselves. Like Angelina, if we hold our vision, the man needed to manifest that vision will appear if a space has been cleared for him.
(more on “space clearing” later…)

“Okay, well let me play devil’s advocate for a moment and ask, where’s your man?”

She starred at me with a dead pan face and replied, “I’m still working on it.”

Lesson #1 - Car or Spaceship?

Something has changed, but I’m not sure what. Last night I returned home from seeing the movie “The Curious Case of Benjamin Button” to find Rubi seated at the Breakfast table working on a painting. While I knew I was not supposed to talk to her, my inner sense of common courtesy chirped out “Hi!” Perhaps this was due to all the thought provoking material in Benji Button. Imagine my surprise when she said “Hello,” sans the usual snarl. My curiosity got the best of me and I decided to proceed with caution.

“I just saw Benjamin Button…”

“OH! How did you like it?”

“I loved it!”

“Yes, it is very profound,” she said in a manner that implied she wanted to continue talking.

I was intrigued by this sudden change of mood, so I carefully stepped in a little deeper. After all, it was only in the morning that she wouldn’t even acknowledge my presence while eating at the same table. What had changed? Your guess is as good as mine, but before I knew it we were discussing the book “The Artist’s Way” by Julia Cameron and I was getting unsolicited advice on how to create the life I want. Because, of course, she is assuming I don’t already have the life I want. True, there is always room for improvement but I received a long winded lecture on how to improve my life. These were not presented as suggestions, mind you, but tried and true insights received directly from the infinite source. There was so much information thrown at me at one time, I walked away with my head spinning. To avoid creating the same vortex here, I will feed these concepts in piecemeal.

Lesson #1

In a nutshell she said to me “Imagine that you are a car that can only go 40 miles per hour, but you want to be a spaceship that goes 1000 miles per hour, so you push your car to 150 miles per hour until it breaks down. Then you abandon the broken down car to find that the spaceship was contained within the car all along. It is not necessary to pick up another book or take another class because you already KNOW everything you need to know to create what you want.”
“What I am telling you,” she said, “you already know, because I am a reflection of you. YOU have created ME to remind yourself of the things you already know.”

I can only surmise that there is something very alien going on here.

Hello Rubi

Just when things were going so well, I have been presented with a new roommate that is testing my fragile yogic qualities of patience and compassion. Oddly enough, she is from India, the birth place of yoga. Out of several other candidates for the room that was available in our four bedroom mansion on the hill, my vote was emphatically in her favor. If I can't be in India, I figured the next best thing would be to have India in my home. Oh my. Was I wrong.

I'm not sure what I've done to Rubi but she is just about the rudest ***** I've ever had the displeasure of sharing a roof with. She's only been here two weeks and she won't even speak to me when we cross paths in the common areas. I tried to confront Rubi in a house meeting a few days ago, to offer an olive branch and sort out the mystery debacle, but she insisted that there's nothing wrong and no problem between us.

"It is all in your perception," she said to me with a surly snarl. Well, okay.

This morning one of my friendlier roommates cooked up some steel cut oats and invited me to sit down to breakfast with her. So nice! Civilized behavior! Unfortunately, trying to play peacemaker she invited Rubi too. Rubi entered the room and didn't utter a word nor toss a glance in my direction. Pretty typical. Then she started making fresh squeezed juice with the oranges from the tree in the backyard. She then placed a large glass of juice in front of Mariana, and another at her own place setting. Meanwhile, I was distracted by a little IM flirtation that was going down on my laptop, so her infantile attempt to get a dig in did nothing more than make her look petty and stupid.