I got this little notebook that I carry around with me, 'cause it's small, and I wrote the times for all of my finals in it. My Italian final was a eight this morning.

So, but, I was flipping through this notebook, looking for the finals list, and I ran into a page of my name. Lots of name things.

Erin was a Celtic god who forsaw the coming of . . Yahweh the Eater. She was like, shit! And she ran to her father and said, hey, do me a favor. And he said, okay-- 'cause who doesn't wanna do Erin a favor?-- and she said, I want you assure me that people aren't ever going to forget my name. And so he jingled his symbolic anklet of might and their island was named Erin, after her.

Which means that centuries later, when paganism resurged and the Celtic gods came back, everybody said-- Erin? Who wants to worship a god named Erin? That's not exotic.

So.

Erin's father-in-law was MacCecht, the god of eloquence.

Also, there's Alestar. "Alestar" comes from a Greek word which means, "alert" or "be prepared!" The letters break down thusly: alpha, which means "bull"; lambda, "sacred geometry"; epsilon, "5th element"; sigma, "death"; tau, "microcosm"; alpha, bull again; rho, "rebirth". And that all breaks down further into a bunch of numbers, becaus, boy-howdy, those Greeks loved their numbers.

Also on this little note page, I wrote Apostles 20:26. I don't know why. The verse is this:

Wherefore I take you to record this day, that I am pure from the blood of all men.

Let's see, what else is in this notebook.

--When the Grail is complete it is called the Sangreal. But Dustin would know more about that than I.

--Bobby's Star Wars name is Drabo Capor. *Have to* use that in a story. What would Hank's Star Wars name be? Mccha something. That's almost like Macha.

Hank McCoy as Irish god of sex and violence. Ohh, yeah.

--Litte notebook says, in my handwriting, "It does not do to be romanced by one's own mythology." Far too late, little notebook. 'Sides, what do you know?

--Sex scene: "Your hips, mentioned by my hands, rise up. We move together like this for hours and hours of very long seconds, and in those times when I can't hear you breathing over my own breath, it seems that it must have always been this way, and I'm just only now noticing being inside you."

--A money/luck spell. A teaspoon of cinnamon, a teaspoon of nutmeg, together in a small bowl. Take three quarters-- or some other of the cooler coins-- and toss them into the bowl until they come up one tail and two heads. Then shake it all up and put it in your wallet. Then go get a job and work really hard.

--Scribble from my time in West Tennessee:

Paul came out of Maine alone, and calm. The divorce took only a month to finalize-- and by that time he'd far outrun anything that had ever belonged to both of them, including the car, which he left in Maryland. He trickled down through the deepest cracks that the Eastern United States had to offer, ending up inevitably on the Mississippi.

The water runs brown in Memphis; and Paul found himself flowing with the same murky vitality of everyone in that city-- in the way of anything that survives the year in spite of itself.

--Two drafts of a letter I wrote Devon years ago. It begins: "I dreamt last night of high adventure." I don't remember what I actually ended up saying to her. But I'm sure it was heartfelt.

--Some website copy, from when I was working for my father's company, AIM Services. Bo-ooring.

--A note written to me by this pitbull of a girl from my dojo at a tournament. She wrote:

"The girl I found is soo cocky! Did you see her smile every time we fought? I tried to beat her but didn't. Walking by she just tapped me [with?] the back of her foot! Am I just being a sore loser. I hope not."

and

"This girl just will not stop smiling. I would love to wipe that smile off her face! I'm not taking it personnel. She is just way to cocky for her own good."

This is the girl who wanted to talk to me about Jesus that one time. I sat down next to her and she started telling me about her church group, and how creepy some of the other church groups were-- and it came up that I'm not Christian. I ended up . . what's the opposite of concise? Dumbing down? I ended up doing that to my beliefs, for her.

I told her that I believe in God-- which is true, kind of, I believe in divine conciousness-- but I don't believe in Jesus. Or rather, I don't think about him enough to weigh whether or not he exists, existed, whatever. Has nothing to do with my life, thy name is Christian mythology.

And she argued with me about that. She's like, I believe you when you say you know God-- I can see His Light in you. And I'm like, thanks. She continues, But I don't understand how you can achieve That without knowing Jesus. And I said, well, here I am. And she said, yeah.

So. Not an unpleasant experience. But the whole gay thing came up and so now she's a little weird around me.

Enough of that.

I have to study Literary Theory for my final tomorrow at two. The final is at two, I mean-- not that I have to study at two. Although, I probably will.

I'm going to read Lise's Oz Miguelito fairy tale story, and then JB's new Bobby/Jamie (as in, the Multiple Man-- they come out of the woodwork, don't they?) story, and then maybe dive into some pornography for a little while, make some lunch . . and then I'll dive in. Promise. Or, maybe later.

Probably later. :]

--Alestar
***
There were times he wished he understood his own impulses better, if for no other reason than to have something in his head beyond 'huh?' at times like these.
~ Te, "Impluse"