Who do that voodoo that you do so well?
The answer is…Me.
I do.
I just forgot myself for a while there.
I am heading to New Orleans mid-April. Booked my flight last week. It’s starting to feel real.
3 days, 2 nights with my blonde, bubbly, charismatic partner in crime.
The suggestion came out of nowhere one night sipping Bobby’s amazing Caesars. She said “I am going, you should come with me.” Sounded incredibly right, so I said yes.
Bartender said, “do me a favor, look after her and try not to get arrested.” I promise.
He has my 6 every damned night, after 7, bless him. We watch Jeopardy, I bring dinner and he keeps me sane. I am going to miss that curmudgeonly old fucker.
He wants hot pepper seeds. I will find them and bring them home. Among other things.
My PIC wants to see a psychic, and so we shall. I’ll find the right one for her while we are wandering down the street in the sunshine, in pretty dresses, eating beignets and sipping coffee. There will be a door and a tiny sign and my body will just tell me to turn left. I already know what she is going to say.
PIC and I are splitting off on Friday night, I will be the girl in New Orleans who doesn’t get drunk. Find a piano/jazz bar somewhere and another bartender to chat with. I am going to eat all the foods. Absorb the energy of the city. The good stuff, the old wisdoms, commune with some ghosts, listen to what they have to say.
Between Poppy Z Brite writing about it, National Geographic articles about Mardi Gras and Mr. Carver’s American history class, I have wanted to go since I was young. I regret not making it down before Katrina. I remember watching the news and having my heart broken, mostly for them but a little bit for me too.
It wasn’t time then, it is now. That has been happening a lot lately.
This is one of those odd, spontaneous trips I denied myself for years. Out of fear and motherhood.
I wish I knew then what I know now. Taking kidlet on adventures would have been so much better than staying on lockdown with men who didn’t deserve my love, body, time or financial contributions. I could have done it on my own so much better.
I didn’t get out of jail free, but I am free now and I am not looking back. I am not that girl anymore. I don’t even hate my jailors. Ain’t worth my time or energy. They hold no power over me. I am the witch they failed to burn. Or maybe I was made out the ash. Either way, I am still here.
3 years ago I walked out of the land of Should and I haven’t looked back. I took kidlet with me, we have never been happier.
I saw this yesterday
I chuckled to myself, I had a similar idea when I booked my trip.
New Orleans is the oldest city I have ever been too. Ancient magicks still clinging to the ghosts wandering around. I will negotiate with the dead. There is power there and I aim to bring some back with me.
It’s time to level up, I was treading in mediocre waters, not getting anywhere.
Neighbor came by Sunday, yes, the hot one. He played guitar and sang for me. We watched a movie in bed and laughed. Managing to cut through my melancholia. He just held onto me because he knew I needed it. He willingly gave me the energy I was lacking. I rubbed the knots out of his back and he worked through the tangle in my brain, perfect trade. He asked about what was happening and when I told him how I was behaving, he sat up straight and said “That isn’t like you at all, you are so much stronger than that, what happened to you? Smarten up, be you and take what is yours.”
He is a good man and a good friend, and he isn’t wrong.
He pried out the answer as to why I was so distrustful, and second guessing myself over every damned thing.
You see dear readers, I went to Florida for Christmas break, had every intention of a deep soul cleansing in the ocean. The last time I went I changed my entire life for the ‘oh so much better’. That was 3 years ago.
I fucked up. Almost tripped back into my old life. I didn’t realize I had picked up a parasite. I was trying to date someone/something. He drained me in a way I haven’t felt since the farm and sisterwife shenanigans. Same mental illness and ensuing drama. I got rid of him the second I realized what it was, but it hit me this morning, I am still not back at full strength.
Fuck that, fuck him, he ceases to exist right fucking now. So mote it be.
I call all my power back to me, it’s mine.
I feel better already.
Full moon is coming soon. I have a few things to throw away, sever any remaining ties that bind.
I get a cosmic do-over. I’ll come home with all new juju.
I am buying a voodoo doll.
Not for the reasons most people do. I am not a rube or a tourist. I am not a vengeful girl. The only pins I would put in him would be acupuncture needles to ease his pain and even then I would rather use my hands to untie knots. I am made out of love, passion and compassion. I take bullets, I don’t fire back.
I will buy a doll, give it a face and name and I will love it.
Lavish all the kindness and nurturing I have for the one I love on a poppet until I can do these things in the flesh. Manifest destiny.
I feel my strength returning. I am unbound, untainted and focused.
I put a spell on you, because you’re mine. Nina Simone
