Well, by 10:30 am, I found out what those 3 swords were--
I went home with a kink in my neck, a hitch in my wiggle (actually more like sciatica), and a gimp in my knee--which has actually been bothering me now for a week...three pains, three swords....Get the picture? Of course, it could be that I'm just old and the body is falling apart, and the 3 of swords has nothing to do with it, so why did it take 2 Advil, 2 Bayer Back and Body, 3 hours of sleep, and the pain STILL isn't gone?
Okay, enough said. I'm just a pain.
Which got me to remembering something that happened a long while ago, and I thought, Hey! Blog fodder! It happened when I first started reading Tarot cards--well, that's sort of a lie, because things like this have happened all of my silly life, but I digress.
I've always seemed to have this "connection" to something that I didn't understand, that I didn't WANT to understand, didn't NEED to understand, didn't even CARE to understand, but one night, I realized that the "oddity" of Me needed to be understood at some level, or I wouldn't be Me anymore. It was a sort of epiphany of sorts. And here's how it happened.
I met this guy online.
Now lest ye think that I was just trolling for a new flame, let me tell you that in the course of five minutes, I knew this guy was a whole lot younger than me, and really superstitious! Chatting with him easily and probably a lot more intimately than he would like (as I said, I'd only chatted with him for 5 minutes, and we were already "friendly", and chatting as if we'd known each other for years, and NO, this was not a cyber-encounter)--he asked me if my name was Lisa. To which I said "no". He kept asking me, and finally I said "names not Lisa, my name is Julie". To which he promptly said "hello, Julie".
Now, we both know that my name isn't Julie at all, but some of us who were born of this era, would remember the song "I'm not Lisa....my name is Julie"...and he was oblivious to this, therefore, my determination that he was MUCH younger than me. He asked me a dozen or so questions, to which I answered no to every one. Of course, HE'S operating on the idea that I've lied to him, and that my name is Lisa after all--apparently someone he was having difficulty "shaking" from a recent stalking encounter...but eventually, I asked him if he was a psychic. To this, he answered an emphatic NO! And I responded "good, because you SUCK at it really bad!"
That's when he asked me if *I* was psychic. I thought about it a second...and answered "yes".
Well, how could he really know anyway, right?
So he asked me to tell him what his name was.
Oh, now, here is where it gets good, folks...how to tell someone you've never met what their name is! I realized I had about as much chance of guessing his name as I did foretelling the next 6 numbers on the Lottery, but I closed my eyes, and asked the Ether--what was this guy's name?
And I listened for the answer.
And he typed...
:"You don't know, do you!?"
:"You're not psychic at all."
I swear to you, I was not expecting it, but I literally "HEARD"
Now how can you go wrong with John, right?
Instead, I chose Robert. I will never understand WHY I chose Robert as the answer, but I did.
And the answer was right.
Yes, friends, you're talking to a bonafide, I can't believe I guessed it on one try, psychic!
He was quite astounded, and flabberghasted. He was now CERTAIN that I was Lisa, and that there was nothing quite as unsettling as this. He asked me to tell him his middle name. Of course, by this time, I had a clear idea of what he looked like, and an even clearer idea of where he lived (because he'd told me that he lived in California), and even though I'd never seen him, I knew that he was not from California. It was not because of his english, either. He was well spoken, typed the language VERY well with minimal typos, and learned/scholarly. But I knew that he was not originally from the USA, and told him so. He wanted me to tell him where he was from. And I said "You're dark complected--dark hair and eyes--thin, long fingers....you're in California, so my best guesses would be Mexico or Hawaii." Then I added, "you do not look like your father, who has hard hands, the hands of a farmer or gardener." "And further, I can't tell you what your middle name is, because you are not originally from the USA, and you have a very ethnic middle name."
To all this, he was astonished, because every word was true. He was amazed that I KNEW that he was not from the USA originally, but even more so that I mentioned Hawaii--which he claimed his GIRLFRIEND was from there, and that he'd lived in Hawaii most of his life. Still Hawaii, IS in the USA, and I told him "but you are NOT Hawaiian", and he said that he was not. He finally told me that he was from the Phillipines, and wanted me to tell him his middle name.
Two days later, I'm asking "the ether" again, this time in my car as I'm tooling down the highway..."what's his middle name?"
A picture formulated in my mind...that of an old flame--(well, he was MY old flame, but it was one-sided)--his initials were "RZ".
Now, I don't know...maybe my hearing is bad...but RZJohn...it didn't make any sense...
Until he finally told me his middle name...Arzadon.
I believed him instantly, and told him what had happend in my car. He didn't believe a word of it, and called me a "cold reader". I felt like I'd been slapped in the face. He asked me to read tarot for him...so I did. He asked about his job, and he asked about this girlfriend in Hawaii...I told him that his work was noticed by others, but that he still had much to learn before he could take off on his own, and that the "girlfriend" would break his heart--and then told him that ANOTHER woman he was involved with would ultimately tell him that she was not interested in a permanent relationship. Something he had not revealed to me was that he was dating someone who had been his teacher in school--so he was surprised that I would reveal this to him from a card reading.
I asked him what he did for a living, and he told me that he was in the entertainment industry, but that he didn't like the people. He told me he was an artist, and showed me some of his work--really impressive stuff. He told me that he was followed by a doppleganger. I asked him what that was--really odd sounding. He told me to google it, and so I did. It was what ghost hunters would call a disembodied spirit--that could perform full-bodied apparition(s). The whole idea of it unsettled me. I've been exposed to things like that, and it's not a comfortable feeling. He told me about how this "doppleganger" attacked him when he was a young child. Well, I can't think of anything more frightening than that! Had I been more of a psychoanalyst at the time, I would have told him what it was, but hoped to keep the fragile relationship online...in short, I figured him to be somewhat of a nut, but he was very superstitious--a throwback to his Phillipino heritage, I suppose.
At some point, Robert Arzadon Ramos and I lost touch with each other. I was a little dismayed by this. He was an interesting fellow. An artistic talent the likes of which I'll probably never see again, coupled with a psychic connection that will probably always be. My last reading for him said that he would return to the Phillipines and to his family eventually, something he swore that he would never do; however, his disappearance from the internet tells me differently.
And so, the login "TSOLOS", read backward "So Lost", rings a rather true note for my "lost friend"...sometimes somber, sometimes a bit immature, like a child lost in a dream, and other times, just lost to me.
So if you know Robert Ramos--or his professional name Robert Arzadon, tell him that GlowBidie still thinks about him now and then. Thanks.