Something Good is Going to Happen to Me Today

Isis (see yesterday's entry) recommended that I attend a healing meeting at the Long Beach Convention Center last Saturday. When Aaron and I arrived, there were approximately 800 people in the auditorium. We could only stay for an hour and a half, but that was powerful enough. I was near tears and was especially touched when the minister asked each of us to turn to our neighbor and tell him or her that something good was going to happen to him or her today and to receive the same blessing in return. This "expectancy of good" has stuck with me.

Last night while walking Rasputin, the thought that something good is going to happen to me filled my consciousness. I also remembered my friend Tim Howard's words about how blessings are going to rush over me like a river, not a little trickle here or there, he said, but a mighty river. These thoughts filled me with joy as I walked along, taking in the beauty of the trees, flowers, birdsong, and the slanted sunlight on adobe walls.

The next thing I knew a woman was calling out to me by name. It was Yolanda, with whom I had worked at an ad agency two summers ago. Yolanda is the closest I've ever come to having a full-on crush on a woman. But that's completely understandable, as everyone had a crush on Yolanda. She dressed in '40s and '50s attire, complete with Bakelite jewelry (see image), period handbags, and that classic '40s bob (see image). Men half her age would quite literally sit at her feet. She was smart and sassy and had the greatest expressions, like "Ain't no hill for a high-stepper." She would say things to completely disarm and at the same time charm her co-workers. For example, once when a young intern bumped into her from behind, she turned to him and said, "Aw, now you're stalking me, aren't you? How precious!"

Despite Yolanda's playfulness, she was one hell of a proofreader. She would find the tiniest problems in consistency. She was an absolute terror when it came to copy.

So, in short, when my assignment with the ad agency ended, I always hoped I would run into Yolanda sometime in Long Beach, as she had told me she and her husband owned a craftsman-style house in the Rose Park historic district. Well, ask and you shall receive, but just in God's sweet time.

I had heard that the agency where we'd worked had closed because it lost the Verizon and Walmart accounts. She said she was unemployed for a while, but is now working at a pharmaceutical company. She says most people would find this really boring, but she loves it. It's very detailed, and she has to be much more alert than she was at her previous job. She really loves proofing the schematics of the chemical structures. Wow, more power to her!

What a brightness Yolanda is! So happy to run into her and know that she lives only a few blocks away.

She dearly loved Rasputin and even gave him a kiss on his snout. She said her cats would be so jealous, but that she couldn't help herself. She said there's no question that this Rasputin could also single-handedly take down czarist Russsia, if he had a mind to.

If Rasputin Were a Man

If Rasputin were a man, I would have told him about an hour into the relationship to go to work, get a life, stop thinking I'm his be all and end all. If a man followed me around the apartment, was fascinated by everything--and I mean everything--that I did, constantly stared at me, and whined with separation anxiety when I took out the garbage, I'd be over him so quickly. But as it's a dog that's doing this, it's a whole different story.

Right now he's lying in the recliner about four inches away from the desk. He used to lie on the floor behind the recliner and look up at me as I typed. Just now he discovered that he could jump into the recliner and be that much closer to his beloved.

He's dropping into a snooze. No doubt he's dreaming about the next time Heidi will rub his belly or scratch his head or give him a whole bunch of love. The little guy is absolutely obsessed.