(Originally written September 2025)
Hi Everyone,
My output has been a little quieter than I intended it to be. When I declared on July 13th that many things would be rolling out I did not know general life shit was about to hit the fan on August 1st. And I definitely did not foresee having to spend all of August and beyond (I’m still in it) having to examine the shit, question the shit, clean the shit off the walls, and endlessly discuss the shit with the kids. Just so much shit everywhere.
I’m not going to tell you the details of what has taken place. Not yet, anyway, because it’s still unraveling and raw and carries legal implications.
To take personal responsibility, I will say the events of August 1st led to me REALLY homing in on the 8/8 Lion’s Gate portal. I said some big things like:
“I want my family to be safe, protected and untouchable.”
“I want those who have hurt us to never be able to hurt us again. To be stripped of their power forever and ever.”
“I want to stand in my full power, to see the truth, to face whatever fears I have hidden from myself.”
I may have stated those several times. Yelled a little. I may have lit some palo santo candles and burned some actual palo santo using the flame of those candles and held my largest lemurian quartzes while humming through my chakras. I may have visualized violent and permanent severing of cords while initiating energetic banishment by aggressively thrusting my right hand away from me and declaring “Begone!” I may have done this several days in a row. It’s what we witchy folk do.
So.
Guess who is getting what they wished for? Me.
Guess who didn’t quite understand what it meant to get what they wished for? Also me.
I mean, YES, I want those things with every beat of my anxious heart. But when I asked I was focused on the end result—peace, relief, freedom, and being untouchable—and not the process. I forgot about the process. I forgot about the reckoning.
For example, say you live in an old, cramped, creaky house with leaking faucets and crumbling counters and cracks in the walls, and you wish with all your might for your dilapidated soon-to-be-a-hazard home to transform into an upscale architectural wonder with granite countertops and a six-burner range and a jacuzzi tub and a pool table and an expensive paintings with little lamps over them.
What are you thinking about when you toss this wish out? You are probably neck-deep in a candle-lit jacuzzi tub full of lavender bubbles. You are probably sipping cold-pressed green juice around your 10-foot granite kitchen island with your refined, delightful friends who look like everyone hot from the original L-Word. You probably turn off your Italian Fantini faucet and it actually, you know, turns off. Doesn’t drip even a little bit. Luxury.
What you are NOT thinking of at the moment of your wish is the violent demolition of the current structure, of the crash of the wrecking ball through cinderblocks creating a choking cloud of dust, of excavators with hydraulic thumbs ripping apart the roof and peeling back the walls you called home for 15 years.
You are not thinking about what a pain in the ass it is to bubble wrap your entire collection of miniature foods you’ve had since you were ten, or how heavy your 350 books are once they are boxed. You are not thinking about the physical and energetic toll of cramming 95% of your worldly belongings into a single storage unit and living in the back room of your aunt’s house, which smells like cat cause it’s the cat’s room, for 23 months.
You are not thinking about the ten times the contractor will call you with a variation of “Sooooo… it turns out your home is built on top of, wait for it, an entire other home buried in the ground. So your new foundation is going to cost 17 times more than we quoted and take 10 times longer to lay. Do you want us to keep working or would you like to never have a house again?”
No.
At the moment of the wish you are thinking of the end product.
You are not thinking about what it’s going to cost to get there. At least, I was not.
That is where we are right now as a family. We are standing in the dust and rubble going “What the fuck is happening? Is everyone okay? How long is this going to take? What do we do now?”
There may be more posts in the future about all of this.
Anyhow.
A few months ago we purchased a leaf blower. Our garage seems to be perfectly situated at the end of some sort of wind tunnel. The wind tunnel does not cool our home at all, but it DOES bring every crusty leaf that falls from every tree on our street directly to our front door.
So Aileen asked me to order a leaf blower. Which I did. However, I made the mistake of ordering a corded leaf blower instead of a cordless, and Aileen spent the summer yanking around, and tripping over, our heavy-duty extension cord while deeply coveting our neighbor’s (my dad) cordless blower. “Look, he can just walk out into the street and down the sidewalk,” she’d say. “Look how he could blow the leaves down the whole loop if he wanted, such freedom!”
But it seemed like a waste to order another leaf blower, so I left her to her suffering. Until it kinda caught on fire. Pro tip, don’t buy the cheapest leaf blower on Amazon even if it has a five star rating.
Now that the garage smelled of melted plastic and the connection to the leaf blower had turned black, I decided it was time for a new leaf blower. A cordless leaf blower. A solidly mid-priced cordless leaf blower that would neither trip Aileen nor burst into flame.
Our new leaf blower arrived on August 31st. I was out with Rain when Aileen texted about how great the leaf blower was, how much she loved it, how it’s soooo much better without a cord, and so on. Wonderful.
The next day, September 1st, I was cleaning up and threw her old leaf blower into the garbage.
On September 2nd, the responsible neighborhood garbage men came and picked up the garbage.
But wait, earlier on the 2nd, BEFORE the garbage was picked up, Aileen noticed her old leaf blower was still sitting in the garage and threw it away.
How can that be? Didn’t Angela already get rid of it?
No, Angela threw away the NEW leaf blower. Even though Angela was the one who chose it with her eyeballs and ordered it. Even though the old one was construction-site orange and the new one was hurt-the-eyes neon green. Even though Angela watched Aileen struggle with the old orange one all summer.
No one realized this until Aileen was getting ready for privates and said “Where did you put my leaf blower, babe?”
NOoOOOooooOOoooooooooo.
And yes, when Aileen threw away the old leaf blower, the NEW leaf blower was still on the premises. She could have saved it. But Aileen did not see it, because Angela had thrown it into her parent’s garbage can located ten feet to the right.
And that is what can happen when shit hits the fan and you’re lost in the rubble. Sometimes you throw away the brand new leaf blower you’ve had for one day. And then you have to buy a new one, which enrages you beyond all reason, but you also understand that it’s a very minor first-world problem and try to pretend you are not crying.
Love,
Angela
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