2009-01-07 ~ 5:50 a.m.

Owed To Chewie

A long time ago, I went to a psychic. I used to go to them all the time. (Less lately. It is about time for a visit.) But this particular one really struck a chord with me. I connected with her better than I have with any psychic before or since. She also did a little past life readings and spirit communication, stuff like that. I�m sure I�ll tell you the past life thing later, but what I want to talk about now is my spirit guide that she told me about.

My friend and I had done this �thing� with 6 unsharpened pencils a couple of weeks before. You do it after midnight, and each person holds three pencils so that you form a rectangle. Then you start answering yes or no questions. Eventually the pencils started moving. The ends of the pencils touching would kinda move out or in. I wish I still had supergold, I would draw pictures� anyway� when they bow outwards, I think that was a yes answer, and inwards was no� sometimes, one of the sets of pencils would go up while the other down�we figured out that meant the spirit didn�t understand the question.

No, I�m serious, this happened. Haven�t been able to duplicate it, but I was there, man. I know what I experienced.

Anyway, I told my psychic friend of the whole ordeal, and she told me I do have a �spiritual guide� with me. She told me I knew he was around when I felt a tingling in my back. I was actually feeling a tingling sensation in my back at that very moment, but when she said, �do you know what I�m talking about?� I said, �No..� Why, you ask? I�m not really sure, but I had lived with that tingling in my back for so long, I never really noticed it. I just figured it was me cooling off in the a/c in from the awful heat here.

But from then on, I knew.

I call him Bob. I call him Bob because aforementioned friend and I had a �thing� with the Bob name, and when we were doing the pencil thing, we decided to name the one talking to us the most, Bob. And, yes, I am pompous enough to assume the one talking to us the most was my very own.

Anyway, Bob usually hangs out with me during very happy and very unhappy times. Sometimes just for fun.

Naturally, the other day, while I was thinking about �CHewie., I checked on Bob to see if he was there. I didn�t feel any tingling sensation in my back. I was a little disappointed, but I�m not the boss of Bob�.

But then I realized�

I was having the very same Bob-type of tingling on the side of my left leg, the side �CHewie. always seemed to run on. He�s with me. I know he is.

So, sometimes he visits, sometimes Bob visits, sometimes they hang out together, just like right now. I�m loved.

Or a crazy woman.

I�m ok with either.

**Ode To �CHewie.**

I can hang the kitchen towels off the oven handle because you won�t lick at them and knock them off.
I can put the trashcans back on the floor.
I can close all the doors and not have to worry about you worrying about where I am.
I can also close the bedroom door when I sleep to keep that damn living room sun out and not worry about you being cooped up in the bedroom all day and not out in that sweet, sweet sunshine.
I can keep that living room curtain closed, period.
I can keep the fire on and not worry about getting up off the couch in the middle of my nap because you�re too hot.
I can stay out all night partying it up and not worry about getting home and letting my dog out.
I can vacuum in a long, straight line without fear of ambush.
I can eat ALL my food.
I can spend an hour writing out stupid blogs without you bugging me for attention.
I can adjust in my office chair without you running in thinking I�m getting up to go to the kitchen.
I can bring someone over and not have to defend how much I kiss my dog.
I can burn all the incense and �incense� I want without your little sneezy protests.
I can shave 5 minutes off my �get ready for work� time since I don�t have to allow for extra time to go out front since I can�t get you to go in the back.
I can keep my Carmex on the coffee table and also on my lips.
I can leave the box of crackers on the coffee table too without your whining of them being so close yet so, so far.
I can sit in my car in the garage and make sure I have everything before getting out instead of rushing to get in so that you�ll stop effing barking.
I can keep lotion on my feet.
I can stop at the mailbox on my way in and not have to worry about going to get you and then stand in the freezing cold while you take the time to pee on everything, but I don�t complain too much because I have guilt that this is your only exercise.

I can�t stand the sound of the drippy toilets because it sounds like you drinking.
I can�t wash my plates well because of all the extra scrubbing I have to do.
I can�t quite go a day without crying about you yet.
I can�t throw your stuff away yet either.
I can�t stand that I can do all those things in the first part.

I won�t every forget you.

*******
Mama loves the Chewie all the tiiiiiiiiiime�Chewie is so handsome all the tiiiiiiiiiiime!! Mama loves the Chewie all the time time TIME! Mama loves the Chewie all the tiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiime.

(Yeah, I sang that to him. The words varied, sometimes he was a silly dog all the time or maybe Chewie loved mama all the time. It sounds much better in person.)

Notes work, comments do not.

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