More Late Nights with Ezzie Dryar (33. Evol Deklaw ni)

That’s In Walked Love, backwards. There’s a jazz tune by that name. Our big band at Uni played it.

TWO of CUPS (inverted). Love. Harmony of male and female in the largest sense and all that goes with it, pleasure, warmth, etc. Inverted, it could mean folly, dissipation or waste.

Or it could mean the loss of love. Allen asked for the ring back. I can understand why. I haven’t worn it since my epiphany … um, episode. I still love him, I think, but I can’t reconcile what I’ve done … sleeping with Max, then allowing myself to be possessed.

The worst part of it all is blabbing … blogging all about it. That alienated Allen, and was generally unforgivable. I don’t blame him. Maybe it is time to pull the plug. I know you wank … want to heal … hear all about my infatuation with Marcel and my time as the High Priestess of the coterie. Maybe you want me to give in to my bisexual fantasies and shake up … shack up with Evie or go back to London and Christa. She’s too young for me, and I wouldn’t want the responsibility of healing … helping to rear her daughter.

Frankly, what happens in the coterie is probably secret, and I need to heal … hence the reason I keep typing that word when I mean to type something else. Yes, my soul needs time to heal, and adding my verbal diarrhoea to the Internet probably isn’t helping matters.

So that means I’m going to cool it for a while. I’ll pop back when I feel strong enough. Eirica is almost finished. She’s won her man (as much as she wanted to), and all that is left is a short epilogue, which I’ll post in a few days. I don’t know what I’ll do with that blog afterwards. Maybe start a new story … a story of healing … a story of becoming Scottish … a magical story of ghosts, castles … of healing. Who knows where I’ll take it. Anyway …

The bite-marks still hurt.

More Late Nights with Ezzie Dryar (32. Dreaming)

TEN of WANDS. Oppression (inverted). Force detached from spiritual sources. Fire in its most destructive aspect. Inverted, it could me self-sacrifice or generosity.

That would be the dream I had after the dinner party. I gave away everything – even the clothes off my back. Nudity dreams are nothing nude … new to me. I’m told they happen when I feel exposed or at risk. Sometimes they are freedom dreams. This was probably a little of both.

You know me: an exhibitionist who keeps herself to herself. I guess that would be a “closet exhibitionist.” I long to have my clothes off, but worry if I show a little too much sin … sick … um, skin.

Anyway, the dream. It started back at the party, and the showing of the henna. Instead of un-tucking my blouse or hiking up my skirt, I progressively removed each garment and gave it to a member of the coterie. (Elsa got my panties – strange.) Anyway, after I had taken it all off with a few members of the coterie remaining, we all went back to my house where I proceeded to continue giving things away … to anyone who came by at that point … until everything was gone except me and my house, which I duly gave to Evie.

Talk about a lucid dream … that was probably the most lucid dream I’ve ever had, except maybe the one about having silver skin, but that was a long time ago.

“Force detached from spiritual sources.” I think of that line and wonder, was the dream an attempt to reconnect with the spiritual? I had to purge myself of the wordy … err, worldly? It’s possibly, but at the end of the dream, I found myself giving my body to the men that were there, including Marcel. That may have been my consciousness trying to regain control, as the dream turned so suddenly. Before anything happened, I awoke – a sure sign of that being the case.

The dream was surely a message. Now I have to just interpret its meaning. Turn to the spiritual, yes, but how? What kind of spiritual? Would I have to choose between Wiccan and Catholicism? For me, that isn’t a choice. Part of me is each of those, and belief has little to do with it. I believe what I believe, and there isn’t a choice about it. I just have to do it in a more spiritual way.

Whatever that is.

More Late Nights with Ezzie Dryar (31. A Lick in the …)

ear.

I’m sorry it has been several days since my last pants … sex … err, post. Lot’s has happened. I discovered that Janice has been in the hospital for several days. She’d had a car accident – a bad one – and they were worried about her spleen, a collapsed lung, and a few other things. That was the day we were supposed to have dinner. She’d lost her guts … um, cellphone in the accident, and that’s where my phone number was.

The dinner party was tonight. I had a rare evening off from the symphony, and Evangeline had planned accordingly. Elsa, Marcel’s wife, was pleasant to me, if not a little stand-off-ish. She didn’t trust me. (I wouldn’t in her circumstances.) As I expected she wasn’t a woman … err, a Wiccan, but almost everyone else at the party was. Most, except Elsa, were interested in Evangeline’s artwork all over my boy … um, body. It was mostly Christa’s artwork, but Evie was much better with a brush, and enhanced it considerably. Where Christa’s work was functional, Evie’s was art. (Sorry Christa.) Anyway, I found myself stripping down to take … show it off. OK, taking off to show off.

Although most of the “art” is under my clothing, part of it must be visible to be effective, and usually it is what looks like an olive branch on the back of my right hand. Tonight, however, I wore a lower cut than usual – was that to attract Marcel? I don’t know. Maybe that was the reason for Elsa’s mistrust. The stars in my (almost non-existent) cleavage drew the eyes downward – within – and my three-quarter sleeves revealed the leopard spots on the left side and more of the olive branch on the right. They couldn’t help but ask about it.

That just fed my exhibitionist nature.

I now seem to be part of the coterie of about 15 of them. I felt comfortable with them, even Elsa at times, and I agreed to join them for their monthly orgies … err, full moon gatherings, when I wasn’t busy with a late concert. Like Marcel, many were interested in music, and were frequent visitors to the symphony. Most had seen me perform, so I was at a slight disadvantage. Marcel wasn’t really their leader. It was a loose democratic organization, and the High Priest or Priestess was a rotating position. Evie was at the end of her term, and nominated me to take over.

I was elected unanimously – even Elsa voted for me. Why? I don’t know what I’m doing in any formal way, but that was apparently my affliction … um, attraction. Maybe they were just nosy and wanted the next gathering at my house. It was a fairly even split of men and women, but Marcel and Elsa were the only couple.

Was Evie just setting me up? Only she would know.

That explained today’s card:

TWO of WANDS. Dominion. Fire in its highest form, energy initiating a current of force, harmony of rule and justice, influence over another, boldness, courage, fierceness.

As much as I like that, I know that it must only be a temporary state. Yes, I’m fire, but isn’t that only because of what I am, and what has happened to me? Of course, I’m the Princess of Wands, but I am no leader. In fact, I’m the one who prefers to stay on the margins: not quite a Catholic (not a good one, at least), not quite Wiccan. Now I’m thrust in a leadership mode.

How long is my sentence … um term? It is of indefinite length – one year minimum, and then until someone (including me) says it is time for someone else. Evie had been the High Priestess for three years, and had apparently planned the ambush … err, dinner party to elect someone new, namely me. How did she know everyone would agree? Did they agree because they knew that I wouldn’t want to do it?

Or is it to heal the bite-marks in my soul?

Oh, I almost forgot to explain the licking reference. Somebody, licked me in my “knee pit” (not my ear, which is where I might like to have been licked in other circumstances), and it wasn’t Evie’s dog, who was asleep in front of the fire at the time. I wasn’t in a position to react right away, but when I did, the perpetrator was gone. (It was while I was being “invested” in my new position.) Who would stick their head up my skirt and lick me behind the knee? It wasn’t Marcel or Evie.

Elsa? She definitely wasn’t in view. No, it couldn’t have been her. There were others who I also couldn’t see at the time.

More Late Nights with Ezzie Dryar (30. A Kick in the Pants)

PRINCESS of DISKS … again.

Christa sent me an email this morning and had a real go at me. She was upset that I was being so introverted and self-absorbed. She thinks that I should phone Janice, just to catch up. Don’t bring up that she stood me up, maybe hook up for a run – something I’ve done every day since we ran together. I couldn’t bring myself to do it today.

I’ve taken to playing my music very loudly when I’m home: performance volume. Does that mean I’m going dead … deaf? I’m off this week, so I’m just sitting at home practising, except for today. I went to see Evangeline to get felt up … knocked … um, touched up … my henna, that is. She’s very good at what she does, and agrees with Jem that I shouldn’t bother being integrated … initialized … initiated as a witch. She can tell I’m ditzy … different, and she can see the bite-marks in my soup … soap … err, soul.

I think she’s been talking to Marcel about me, too. Suburban St Louis isn’t exactly witch-ville, and he has his own coterie – not exactly a coven, but a group of mindless … um, like-minded friends. I could be one of them – if I could keep my fantasies out of his pants. It’s those bites from my soul that leave me wanting him, and knowing that while I was at the depths of my recession … depression … (Stop it!) … possession, that he had nearly given in to me.

I don’t know what his wife must wink … think about me. I don’t even know if she is a witch. Their house seemed quite ordinary, unlike the houses of most Wiccans I’ve slept with … err, met. Evangeline has planned a dinner party for next week, and most of the coterie, as well as Mrs deBussy. (I don’t even know her name!)

Aside from that, I’ve also been working on my latest story. Eirica is having quite a love-fest. I wonder how much of me is in that. She keeps saying she isn’t a lesbian, but she keeps having encounters with other co-eds. Having the object of her pretension … obsession tell her his fantasies in embarrassed detail is probably too much like me, except of course that they are definitely a man’s fantasies.

I’m going to format the next chapter and post it in the next few days. 

More Late Nights with Ezzie Dryar (28. Damn!, swearing)

No dinner tonight. I arrived at Janice’s house at 6 pm and it was dark. I crapped … err, knocked on the door. Nothing. I didn’t see her out during my run this morning, but I suspect that meant she had gone to work. I wasn’t required until the afternoon, so I ran a little later.

Two days in a row? I haven’t done that in a long time. I was hoping to see her, but maybe I should have been out there at six or seven. Some people do work too much … um, normal business hours, you know. Perhaps there was a problem, and she didn’t have my phone number.

Maybe she just blew me off. It wouldn’t be the first time. I seem to be prone to it.

It’s too bad. I needed to be with someone today. Anyone. I said something in rehearsal today, that someone took wrongly. I won’t repeat it. It was BAD, and what is worse, it wasn’t a misspeak. It was a comment about one of the old perverts … err, older violinists of the Symphony, and I had misjudged how much he was depleted … um, respected. That was stupid, and I knew my mistake as soon as the words vomited from my mouth. Whatever respect I used to have is gone now. I used to be that eccentric Brit who was the ace third horn player, who was reliable and never cracked a note in public. Now I’m just a foul-mouthed bitch in the back of the orchestra.

Maybe Janice heard about what I said. A lot of members of the Symphony play for the Ballet. It isn’t beyond the realms of possibility.

What else is there worth talking about today? Nothing.

My card … well, yes:

FIVE of SWORDS. Defeat. Loss, malice, spite, weakness, slander. A separator of friends. Cruel yet cowardly. Evil speaking.

In a word … me.

Fuck.

More Late Nights with Ezzie Dryar (27. Running on Empty)

I went out for fun … um, a run this morning. My email inbox has slowed to a crawl. It seems I have few friends left. Christa made it home safely. Jem’s dealing with a blizzard on the range, and Allen still isn’t talking to me. Nothing juicy to keep me in the house. Anyway, on my run I met someone who could keep up with me. I haven’t been out much, but I’ve always been pretty easy … err, fast (for my age). Her name is Janine, and she’s not from around here either, although not from as far away as I am. She’s from near Cleveland, my mum’s hometown. She’s a typical …

PRINCESS of CUPS. Gracious, sweet, voluptuous, dreamy, kind. Auburn hair, blue eyes, pale.

Maybe not so voluptuous, since she’s an avid runner. It has a habit of inhibiting the hormones. She turned a corner as I was passing out … just passing, and she stayed with me for about a half mile, so I had to break the ice. To form, I asked her something stupid, like, “Do you come easily?” I meant to ask, “Do you run here often?” I hadn’t seen her on my previous runs.

Before I could correct myself, she was on her back on some stranger’s footlong … um, front lawn, laughing until she cried, giving me a much needed kick in the arse … err, chance to catch my breath. Anyway, we chatted for the next half mile, until I stopped in front of my house, and invited her in. It was kind of embarrassing, as without Christa around, I had no reason to clean up that morning. At least, it was only a single day’s mess.

It transpired that she had just moved in on the next street over, and worked in arts management. Not with the Symphony, fortunately, but with the Ballet. She’d seen me play with the Symphony on a couple of occasions, and had played horn at Indiana University, before changing majors. She’d gone to the Strauss last Friday. She’s invited me over for dinner tomorrow night. That will be nice. I had an evening concert in the ‘burbs tonight, so we couldn’t do it then.

She seems to have great haste … taste and complete … complex … contemptible … ugh … compatible interests, so it should be a good whine … time.

I think I’m getting tired, as I didn’t spray … weep … slur … uh, whatever … last night. Must get ahead … wed … laid …

You know what I mean. Goodnight.

More Late Nights with Ezzie Dryar (26. Lost, swearing)

Christa and Dana are gone. I’ve never let myself become the maternal sort, and that prevented me from becoming too attached to Dana. Christa is more where that instinct hit home. As a student, she was much like a daughter to me, one that I fortunately didn’t have to raise and suffer through her teens. She is an adult and in love with me, but I can’t help that. I love her, too, in a different sort of way.

I got fucked … lost on the way home from the airport. Before I knew it, I was in Springsteen … Springfield, and that is quite a distance too far. I don’t know how I got onto I-55 either. It was dinnertime before I made it back home to East St Louis. Was that a vestige of my possession? Probably not. I was conscious the whole time, thinking of Christa and being lonely … and Allen.

Why haven’t I made any friends here? Am I just too weird for them?

By the way, I need to clear something up. Allen did dispose … depose … err, propose to me last year, but we couldn’t find a priest for our date, so the wedding was delayed, and then I had to come to St Louis, and it kept being put off. Allen didn’t push it, and neither did I. I think he knew me too well.

I only realized that I was still wearing the ring while I was driving, around the time I hit the signs for Springfield. Sadly, I’ve taken it off now. Do I send it back? He hasn’t asked for it. I should give it to him next time I’m in heaven … err, London.

FOUR of WANDS. Completion (inverted).

I don’t think I even need to explain that one. Inverted, that means it is imperfect, incomplete, unreliable (there’s that word again), and over-anxious. (So much for being settled or clever!)