Sunday, September 21, 2014

Taking Some Sting from the Equinox: Navel Gazing

Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored," where you can skip this item if you basically don't read diary entries. I had a swell Mabon, and I want to record it here for those years ahead when I forget everything.

What a lovely day! The weather was beautiful, and Mr. J and I were up at the crack of dawn for Snobville's annual book sale. There's also a boss of a flea market in the same part of town, so it was a win for all ... even Extra Chair, who went to the flea market too. And other folks that I'll get to in a moment.

So, I went to the flea market, hoping to get another nonstick dutch oven like the one I bought last year for $15 that Spare ruined unintentionally by whipping potatoes in it. Auspicious sign of a good day: The same seller was back, I got another dutch oven, same price, and a much-needed ladle.

Then to the book sale. By that time, Spare and her boyfriend had hopped off the El and joined me. I perused the tired-looking paperbacks that get shipped from sale to sale, and all of a sudden, Spare snuck up behind me and gave me a copy of Faeries, by Brian Froud, that she had found among the mishmash! What a grab! I didn't have a copy, and even Snobville's thieving prices of $4 for a hard cover seemed reasonable for this tome.

But wait, there's more.

My browsing yielded me a little gem for a swell and timely Gods Are Bored series. The book is titled Halloween: What's a Christian To Do? Friends, we will have fun, fun, fun till her daddy takes the T-bird away with this one!


Snobville, as I said, charges usurious fees for its used books, but sometimes it's worth it.

After lunch, Spare and I deposited her flame back onto the El. We went to the Philadelphia Zoo, which has been touting its new batch of lion cubs. If you're a zoo, and you want to keep your wounded-and-unable-to-fly turkey vultures in dog food, you need to trot out some baby lions occasionally.



Aren't they adorable? When Spare and I got there around 4:00, they were playing with their mom and each other, gambling about their too-small enclosure. The lioness was giving us humans the evil eye, and I cannot blame her one little bit. But every time a little lion bounded past, all of the viewers just emitted a collective coo. Can't describe it any other way.

Spare and I are no strangers to this zoo. As an aside I'll say that zoos make me uncomfortable, because the animals look so unhappy. But at least the Philly zoo has upgraded its facilities, and particularly the great apes have it pretty good, at least for inmates.

Back to not being strangers. Spare and I had only one short hour to hit all of our favorite critters. We adore the pygmy marmosets.
Spare also loves the European harvest mice, and who can blame her? A mouse that can fit on a quarter? So damn cute!

Now having gorged on cuteness, Spare and I eschewed the giraffes and made a beeline for my personal favorite, a pair of turkey vultures who cannot be released to the wild. I praised and worshiped them, they looked at me with baleful glares and no little suspicion, but thirty minutes in we had achieved a sort of tidy understanding. Spare is so patient. Why hang around a vulture cage when you can see zebras? But such is the love of a daughter that she cleaved to my side.

The zoo had closed the other exhibits by the time we ambled back to see if we could get one last ogle at those cubs. The zookeepers had corralled the mom and the cubs and had let the papa lion out for some air. And he was apparently pissed as hell that he had to sit inside all day, because he was roaring at the top of his lungs. You know what, reader? As cute as baby lions are, I don't think I would want to come across a handful of them in the wild. Their parents are forces of Nature.

I dropped Spare off at her apartment (*my baby left home*) and headed back across the B Franklin Br to Jersey. Lit up my shrine for the coming darkness, lit up my altar for same, offered Thanksgiving to the deities, made a pot of soup in my new dutch oven, and sat down to read about faeries.

This was a day that went well from end to end. How often does that happen?

Thursday, September 18, 2014

The Dangers of Un-Analyzed Data

Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored," basically a Pagan site with way too much tasteless humor to give Paganism a good name. Yes, we are pretty much ignored by the serious folk. But we aren't ignored by everyone.

Witness this email that came to my inbox today:

Hi there, 

My name is [name delted by blogger]. I'm the Community Outreach Coordinator for [fashion company deleted by blogger]. It's hard to believe that summer is finally winding down, but that means that the fall fashion season is right around the corner! We're super excited for fall colors, so we came up with a great infographic to help you transition from your favorite summer brights into some beautiful fall shades. 

With that in mind, we'd like to get your take on transitioning to fall colors. We're asking bloggers like you to pick a fall shade of nail polish, and create a stunning look that highlights that color! Feel free to create a styleboard showing what items you'd wear or beauty products you'd use to compliment your fall inspired color, then challenge one of your friends to do the same. We'll be picking some of our favorite posts each week to share on social media, and once the fall season really gets underway, we'll be sharing some of the very best posts on our blog as well. 

We're only offering our infographic to a select group of bloggers, so we'd love to have your participation! Please let me know if you'd be interested in taking part and I can send it over for you to use in your post. 

Hope to hear from you soon, 

[name deleted by blogger]
Community Outreach Coordinator, [fashion company deleted by blogger] 
[email of home page of company]




Well, by golly, I'm up for that! Here's my shade of nail polish:



It's literally called "wet cement."

No time for the styleboard, sorry, but I would be wearing this with attire in the colors of our school's mandatory student uniform. This uniform is composed of a gray or maroon polo shirt, black pants, and a maroon or gray hooded sweatshirt. I wear these colors every day. Although this is a fall-specific request, I find these colors easiest to wear in deep midwinter.

How did I get into a select group of fashion bloggers? It could only be the number of pageviews I get every day for my Pagan content. I get that number of pageviews because I've been blogging nonstop since 2005 and have over 2,000 posts online, every topic imaginable except fashion. When it comes to fashion, I'm strictly a faerie cosplayer or just simply ... simply attired.

You know what else is annoying about this randomly data-driven email? There's not one single offer for me, the blogger, except a possible profile on their blog. No free cosmetics, no sample swatches, nada. Even if I was into fashion, why should I provide content for them?

I'm going to make a new label, because I have been getting a fair number of 

Wednesday, September 17, 2014

Monday, September 15, 2014

Interview with a Bored God: Dazbog

You look up in the sky, and there it is: the Sun. And you know that something so warm and dependable is going to have loads of bored deities looking after it, right? Indeed! I mean, the best NASA can do is watch it through a telescope and tell us when it gets spots. But making it rise and set on time? You need deities for that!

With the Sun on my mind, I sought about to find a bored Sun god with a chip on His shoulder. Well, Who should wander in (wearing a swell pair of Ray-bans) but Dazbog, the ancient Slavic God of the Sun!  I'm a woman with a mission today, and I'm hoping Dazbog will help me. Please give a warm, wonderful, Gods Are Bored welcome to Dazbog the Sun God!



Anne: YeeeOWWWWCH! Hello, Might One. Would you mind sitting a little further away? You're scorching my eyebrows.

Dazbog: No problem. How about over here on the couch?

Anne:  Emmmm .... ahhhhhh ... would you consider one of these dining room chairs? It's not upholstered.

[Dazbog promptly reduces the chair to ash.]

Dazbog: Maybe I should just stand.

Anne: You are indeed a very bored god, Dazbog. The Christians showed you no respect, toppled your statues and undermined your ministry. Must have made you hot under the collar .. tee hee!

Dazbog: Dumb, Anne, even by your low standards. I was by turns furious and heartbroken. Poland was a paradise when I was its God. Now look at it!

Anne: I've never been there. I've only seen photos. But I presume that the sun still shines down on it.

Dazbog: Not like it used to, when they were all praying to me. I only give it a half-hearted attempt these days. They deserve those long, cold winters!

Anne: Now, that's exactly why I asked You here today. I like long, cold winters, but what I don't like is the early darkness. I could have turned to dozens of gods in multiple pantheons, but I chose you, Dazbog, to ...

Dazbog: To stay in the sky a little longer, huh?

Anne: Yes! Exactly!

Dazbog: Not doing it.

Anne: Please?

Dazbog: Nope.

Anne: I can't change your mind?

Dazbog: No, and I double dog guarantee you that you won't get any other Sun deities to do it either. We've all been usurped -- and not by another Sun god, but a Father god. It would be hard enough to lose custom to one of your own, but to a Father god? Pathetic! I've had it with the human race!

Anne: Then why do You shine at all?

Dazbog: It's not easy to find re-training at my age. I tried the refrigeration industry ...

Anne (to herself): And he called me dumb.

Dazbog: I tried solar power. But all the Sun gods are trying solar power. We're all fighting over it.

Anne: I'll be in your corner Dazbog, if you just cancel the whole Northern Hemisphere thing. If you just stay the course.

Dazbog: Shame on you! One of your three readers is from Australia! Would you have him freeze to death?

Anne: I'm not talking about hours and hours here ... just an hour a day more sun than You give us here in New Jersey in the wintertime.

Dazbog: Not doing it. Neither will Ra. Neither will Helios. Neither will Aja. You want the whole list, or just the top ten? Besides, there's a simple solution to your problem. Move to the western edge of your time zone.

Anne: I did that! I lived in Detroit for four years. And yes, You stayed in the sky longer in the evenings, but it was dark when I walked to work! I almost got hit by a bus! Pleeeeeeze, Dazbog? Just a simple hour? Oh pleeeeeeeeeze?

Dazbog: Sorry, Anne. Unlike Father gods, we Sun gods are predictable in our ways. We're by-the-book. And the book says that, this time next week, you start getting less sunshine.

Anne: For a little fame? A few tithes and offerings?

Dazbog: Where are you going to find those? In case you haven't noticed, Poland is a very Christian country. My praise and worship team is still going on about that pope they sent to Rome!

Anne: Yeah, you're right. I have zero influence and no money to tithe. It was a shot in the dark ... I mean, in the light ... oh Hell, you know what I mean.

Dazbog: I appreciate the invite. What's in the fridge?

Anne: Nothing edible now, I'm afraid. Doggone it. I was really looking forward to that Jello mold.

Dazbog: I'm so sorry. Here you are being kind to Me, and I scorch your storehouse!

Anne: Surely that's worth an extra hour of daylight.

Dazbog: No, it's worth $236, and 23 of those little green stamps you're collecting to get free pots and pans. I'll send you a check.

Anne: Sorry for saying this, but you're pretty cold.

Dazbog: Bitter, yes. Cold, never. A Father god indeed! If I live to be ten billion, I'll never get over it!

[Dazbog ascends to the sky, muttering under his breath.]


It was worth a try. I basically hate it getting dark at 5:00 p.m. But I guess I'll just have to grin and bear it. Or move to the tropics. Now there's a solution I'd like to try!

Saturday, September 13, 2014

Rent-a Cat

Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored!" Have you noticed how hard it is to make a living these days? I mean, really. I don't know about you, but I'm always on the lookout for a way to make money.

What do you think of Rent-a-Cat?

My daughter The Spare moved into an apartment in Center City, Philadelphia in June. The apartment is on the second floor in a townhouse. From the get-go she's had mice.

I don't have any problem personally with small rodents, but they are gross in their habits. I had them in my house before I got my cats. Hated to poison them, but, as I said: gross.

It's harder in a townhouse with shared walls. Spare put out poison, but it didn't seem to make a difference. And her roommate is terrified of mice.

Spare wanted to take one of our cats to her flat. I put the kibosh to that. Beta is an outdoor cat, and Gamma has anxiety issues.

Folks, for the first time it has paid off to volunteer. The pet shelter where I donate my time kindly lent me a hard-to-place kitty to take to Spare's apartment. Basically Spare is fostering this kitty, who simply cannot tolerate any others of her species.

I wish I had a photo of Spare, walking up the Philadelphia sidewalk with a cat carrier as the locals stared at her from outdoor bistro tables.

This is an experiment in rodent extermination. I don't know how it will go. I'm also more than a tad concerned that Spare will bond with the feline. Also not sure a cat will be able to deal with townhouse mice, and not sure how long it will take. I am sure that cat will catch mice, though. Even Gamma can do that, and he's a dim bulb.

But if it goes well, what a business opportunity! Rent a cat to deal with your mice, cave crickets, spiders, and bouncy balls! Flexible rates, choose from a wide variety of colors. No purebreds allowed, only nice, fresh, mature rescue cats with proven survival skills.

Can I get some investors?

Thursday, September 11, 2014

Back in the Saddle: Let's Talk!

Well, what do you know? My school upgraded to Google Chrome over the summer, and they forgot to block Blogger! Yippee kay i ay!

So, let's talk.

How about ISIS, or ISIL, or whatever the fuck. Thank goodness that wouldn't happen here! We've got lots of people carrying firearms who would never put politics and religion before humanit ..... emmm, forget it.

How about the Walton family creating charter schools? I guess they want to teach a new generation to have super low expectations. Why wait for the real world to crush kids? Teach them to expect to be crushed ... use crushable teachers.

Five casinos close in Atlantic City, 10,000 people lose their jobs, and all I can think about is how unsafe it will make the sea glass beaches. I'm a selfish bitch.

Has anyone noticed that the super hero movies aren't any good anymore? I wanted to strangle that raccoon.

I do like the new Doctor, though.

Why did I leave the wet cat food out overnight? Damn.

Speaking of pets, I've got to get some bird seed.

My daughter The Heir is going to a wedding this weekend. It's the first one of her college chums to tie the knot. She's 25.

Aerosmith or Coldplay? ah HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA! Dream on.

I'm thinking of writing a book: How To Wallow in Self-Pity. Trouble is, I'm not sure anyone would buy it. Comes naturally to most of us.

If practice makes perfect, how come Pagans don't win the lottery?

You know what baffles me? How 25 teenagers can be jumping around the room at 7:30 in the morning. Aren't they supposed to be on a different biorhythm?

You know what's really stupid? Of course you do! There's something in your life that's stupid as hell, and you know just what it is. Because you aren't stupid.

Well, this was a lovely tea and chat. Except I left my travel mug in the classroom yesterday, so the tea is a little fermented. And that's a good thing, reader. That's a good thing.

Wednesday, September 10, 2014

This is a test to see if my school district is still blocking Blogger as a social media site.