tarot cards and scorpion stings

October 16th, 2010

The last two days have been trying. Needless to say, I have definitely leveled up in the badassery department. Yesterday I got stung by a scorpion and bitten by a horse. I know, the horse one is kind of humorous, but it was so fucking painful. I was doing a morning walk from the volunteer dormitory (where Kelly and I are staying…wink wink). The female horse, India, was blocking one of the gates I had to pass through. Normally she’s really well mannered and affectionate. I’m still not sure what triggered her attack. I didn’t make any sudden movements. Liz also taught me that if a horse’s ears are ever back, it means that they’re angry and shouldn’t be approached. India was acting normal. As I approached the gate, she reared forward and took a chunk out of my stomach. Thank god I had a shirt on. This happened yesterday morning and my stomach is still black and blue. It hurt a lot. Little did I know, the fun was just beginning. The horse was merely an aperitif – an hors d’oeuvre.  The scintillating main course was still on its way. So, as far as animal attacks go, I always take preventative measures. I’m pretty responsible and I’ve acquired a lot of knowledge about averting and treating bites (especially snakes) since I’ve been here.  I am especially cautious of scorpions. I always shake my shoes and fully inspect my clothes before dressing. I shake my sheets before crawling into bed. So, on the occasion, I had hung up my towel to dry the previous night. I wanted to take a shower, so I went into my room, undressed, and began to wrap the towel around me. I mean, I wanted to make my way to the shower without being too indecent. Suddenly I was struck with a searing pain on my side about six inches away from my horse bite (ha. yeah. It’s okay to laugh. I just chuckled as I wrote that. Zombie horses for the win). It felt like a white hot knife burning and tearing my flesh. I immediately screamed and dropped the towel, completely unaware of what had caused the pain. I have an incredibly high pain tolerance, and I was whimpering and tears were streaming down my face. Kelly immediately rushed in and was really concerned. He’s too good to me. Although I was incapacitated, I was able to gesture to my towel just as the scorpion’s ugly head emerged  from beneath a fold. It was smaller than others I’d seen. For this I was mistakenly grateful. Later I learned that the smaller the scorpion, the more potent the venom. But I’m getting ahead of myself.  Kelly, without hesitating, grabbed his copy of The Gallic Wars by Caesar(in Latin, of course) and smashed it until it stopped flailing. Caesar is such a badass that he still murders centuries after his death. Kelly sat next to me for an indeterminate amount of time. For at least ten minutes, probably longer, all I could do was sit. It was excruciating. I’ve never felt such searing pain like that. I would get my wrist tattoos done over and over again for decades before choosing to dance with a scorpion again. Liz, being the genius that she is, busted out the snake bite kit that I brought with me (which, up until now, we had been fortunate enough not to have to use). She unfolded the instructions and discovered a section on scorpion stings. The best part of that paragraph: “If you get stung by a scorpion, seek medical attention immediately.” Well, considering the fact that going to the hospital was a complete logistical impossibility, she proceeded to follow the instructions. She sucked the venom out with the syringe, stopping for three minute intervals to replace it with an ice pack. This method seemed to be pretty successful, however, I still felt loopy for about ten hours after. The neurotoxins in the venom definitely made me see things – my head felt hazy and my entire right side was overwhelmed with a dull ache for the majority of the day. I feel significantly better now though.

Later, same day:

Kelly and I have been working out together. He is basically training me – he’s really good. He could easily do it for a living. He is going to use my progression pictures, even from before we were dating. Hahaha.  At first I wasn’t sure how the dynamic would be with him training me. I was worried that maybe I’d be less motivated or more self conscious. Wrong. Having him stand over me, all intimidating and such, just makes my performance improve exponentially. We did a really decent workout. It was at least an hour of constant pain. I won’t even go into detail about all the exercises we did. Basically, he’ll work me until one muscle group is completely fucking maxed out, and then he’ll make me do the exact same thing with another. Then, after endless sets and reps, we’ll do uphill and downhill lunges. Then sprints. Then run back to the house. I am completely destroyed.

Oh, since I’m a masochist, I went up to do yoga with Liz and Six about 20 minutes after my death workout. I only stayed for a few poses. My muscles were searing, and my whole body would twitch and shake uncontrollably after about two minutes into each pose. On my way back, the cows were blocking the entrance to the farm. I tried to walk around them and ended up getting charged by one of the bulls. Yeah, this is not a joke. So, even after my muscles were completely demolished, I somehow had enough strength to outrun the bull up a steep hill and dart under the barbed wire before I was trampled to death. The animals are conspiring against me, I swear. I ended up cutting around the side of the lot down a sloping muddy hill. I got caught in knee deep mud and almost couldn’t maneuver my way out. I eventually made it back. Kelly just laughed at me.  After showering I basically just collapsed. Kelly gave me a back rub and it made it all worthwhile. I kind of love him a little bit. 

October 17th, 2010

The sun is beginning to peak over the ridge. Kelly is up sleeping in the volunteer house. Liz and Six are doing yoga on the platform at the top of the hill. I’m sitting at the table – the sunlight beginning to warm my back – blasting the Beach Boys.

Gotta keep those lovin’ good vibrations a-happenin with her –

Gotta keep those lovin’ good vibrations a-happenin with her --

Gotta keep those lovin’ good vibrations a-happenin………

These harmonies kill me. They’re so tightly orchestrated. No wonder Brian Wilson went crazy. That’s what happens when you have to do copious amounts of drugs in order to live with your own genius.

Last night, all four of us pitched in and made a feast. Kelly bought some fresh tilapia last time we were in town. I made pasta with a delicious Cajun jambalaya sauce from scratch. I let it simmer for a long time – I added fresh hot peppers, bell peppers, cayenne pepper, paprika, freshly ground peppercorns… the list goes on. I wouldn’t be able to recreate it exactly if I tried. Kelly seared the tilapia in butter with just a little salt. The flavor in the pasta was enough.

My music just shuffled to Coconut Records:

And if you shake her hard enough she will appear – it rains a lot this time of year—

The gods of music love me this morning.

We also made a salad with fresh avocado, cheese, onion, and organic lettuce. I tossed it with a homemade oil and vinegar dressing. Liz made orange juice with the tapa dulce and six or seven freshly picked oranges. We had screwdrivers with dinner. We discussed philosophy and politics over our spicy tilapia and rich libations – all while listening to Puccini.

After a few more drinks and a toke or two, we pulled out the Tarot cards. I read Kelly. His cards were startlingly accurate. I don’t remember what they were specifically, but the past talked about peace in a certain routine and the pursuit of wisdom. It also revealed, however, a certain degree of stagnancy in that routine. The present card signified change – the completion of an important decision or a significant physical transition. It also warned him specifically of a Leo person who was holding him back, “inhibiting his creativity and his ability to be fully happy.” We all laughed at this. The future card signified happiness and spiritual wealth based on the outcome of his present decision.

As a disclaimer: I don’t believe in divination. I think fortune telling is a load of bunk. The universe is completely entropic and determinism is just an adult fairy tale. I do, however, love the ritualistic aspect of tarot cards and I see them as a tool used to grant one a new perspective on certain situations.

Six read my cards. He had a really interesting technique. For Kelly’s, we looked up the description of each card. Six made me pick each one from the deck myself and study it. He never once opened the book. He asked me what resonated with me – what I saw in it. My present self was “The Star”. It was beautiful. The image was very fluid and in tune with the world around her – my future was “Lust” or “Power”. I think this signified a lust for life – a power gained in coming to my full potential, in becoming exactly who I want to be. It’s funny, because the figures in the Star card and the Lust card were extremely similar. The Star was just hunched slightly and Lust had her head thrown back and her arms out while she was mounted on a chimerical beast – life. She held the reigns. That’s me. That’s what I’m turning into here.

my past -- defeat

lust/power -- my future self

the star -- my present self

Side note – I’m using the Crowley deck. It’s the most beautiful tarot deck I’ve ever seen. If you ever develop an interest in tarot, I’d highly recommend getting this one. It’s amazing. Liz actually is thinking about getting the Princess of Swords and/or The Universe image tattooed on her before we leave. Six wants the images from the Art and Science cards juxtaposed. That would be sexy. Oh, and the Magus and the Fool. So incredible. 

Now: A Sea Shanty of Sorts – Margot and the Nuclear So and So’s.

She smiles at me as she is falling asleep, says we’ve got to live the best we know how...