- My feet might be shrinking. A pair of black loafers I’ve had for a couple of years are suddenly a little too big for me.
- Sarah Palin has a son named Track. Track? Are her other children’s names Nike, Adidas and Vans?
- Cross-stitching. It’s not just for Grandmothers anymore.
- Corn-on-the-cob shucked a day in advance affects it’s taste. In that, it has no taste.
- When you’re covering for a co-worker on vacation, the event she said that is “possibly going to happen while I’m away” (i.e. the time-suck, chaotic, last-minute-pain-in-the-ass-task) will happen.
- There really is such a thing as sex addiction.
- I kinda think David Duchovny is even hotter now that he’s admitted he has a sex addiction.
- I have an odd way of reaching out to people.
- My cousin is pregnant.
- I drew the Hermit card twice today in a tarot reading. Apparently, my self-inflicted attempt at solace is what I’m supposed to be doing right now
In The Hermit, we see how new life arises from what might seem like a bleak and solitary journey beneath the earth. Only by carrying the light of spirit into the deep places of body, memory, and unconsciousness can return to the surface realities of life and make them fruitful and vivid…
The Hermit is solitary not just because solitary study suits him, but because his mission of discovery and transformation can only be achieved in the interior landscape of contemplation.
He knows the way in.
(Interpretation courtesy of Starweaver)
P.S. I cannot for the life of me figure out how to make these extra quotation marks go the fuck away!
