Yes, I know, I skipped yesterday’s blog. I was too busy trying to mediate a serious showdown between The Professor and The Bellydancer to think straight about anything. In case you’re just joining my “spiritual journey,” let me give you a bit of background knowledge. My life is kind of absurd.  I live and work in two different states, metaphorically, psychologically, and literally.  For the past three weeks I have been working two different jobs in two different cities in two different states. Add all that to my pre-existing psychological dichotomy: The Professor and The Bellydancer, two vastly different facets of my personality.  Up til this month, The Professor lived and worked in State A while The Bellydancer lived and played in State B.  Everything was harmoniously compartmentalized until The Professor took a second job on The Bellydancer’s turf.

So last night (Thursday) I was one hour into my drive from State A to State B when I realized I hadn’t packed anything that The Professor could wear to work the next day in State B. What I HAD packed — yoga pants, tanktops, and that voluminous yellow skirt I mentioned in yesterday’s post — was stuff for The Bellydancer, who does her thing on Saturday.  In a panic, The Professor mentally rushed through the contents of The Bellydancer’s closet in State B: 

one turquoise-sequined bra and belt,

….matching turquoise-sequined shoes…,

one beaded bra and belt in peacock colors,

one gold lame skirt ,

one midnight blue lame skirt,

one silver lame skirt,

three chiffon skirts in white, turquoise, and black,

one red and silver belly dance halter top with a matching red-sequined belt,

two corsets,

pink-sequined pasties with beaded tassels (…don’t ask),

a green and black gypsy costume,

[Yeeees…the list goes on…]

a pink and black and white striped pirate tutu,

black and white striped pirate stockings,

a saucy pirate hat sporting a long peacock feather,

6 wigs of various shades and lengths,

black velvet gloves with purple spiderwebs,

an ill-fitting fairy costume made out of a slip and hundreds of silk flower petals and leaves (worn in a St. Patrick’s Day parade),

a “not quite Snow-White” costume made for a Haflaween (never worn),

silver lame leggings and a matching home-made halter top (for Robot Girl),

a black floor-length vynl dress,

a crimson and black leopard-skin patterned floor length robe trimmed with black ostrich feathers,

[….I’m a little embarrassed to say I could go on….and on….]

The Professor was irate. How can this frivilous bellydancer woman have NO clothes in her closet suitable for polite society?! How can she have NO sense of decorum and simple decency?!  The Bellydancer responded as expected – with maniacal giggling. 

So I did what I always do in these situations: I whined to my bellydancer friends.

And they did what they always do when I find myself in these strange predicaments:  They helped me out.

Thanks to an emergency loan, The Professor showed up for work today in a fabulously smart and sassy dress that was as perfect for a Professor as it was for a Bellydancer. 

My dear friends, how I love you. Today’s meditation on sound is dedicated you.

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