Lydia Aswolf

Sure, everyone knew George and Gracie. Back when I was a kid it wasn’t frowned upon to have strangers show up on your doorstep; no one scowled, called the cops, or did anything other than making whoever showed up feel welcome.

I was delighted with the pair; Gracie was the quiet one and George outgoing; they never failed to put a smile on the face of whomever they happened to be around.

I don’t fancy that I was one of their best friends because I know it per virtue of the time they spent with me. Maybe it was because they had felt like outsiders due to their unique way of living from moment to moment instead of seeking the security and comfort others in their position might have killed for

They visited so often that my parents grumbled it was costing money to host them. The day after the complaints, I called into the party line in my town so I could earn money…if it meant they would come even more often or stay for good, I would have done anything.

Each had something to offer me; George’s sense of humor, Gracie’s depth and quiet constancy.

I needed both; the points of view held towards such an unlikely pair were perhaps what drew them to me, and vice versa.

I was bad.

I didn’t think so personally, but it was the common opinion of me; not that I gave a rat’s ass.

No one tarred George and Gracie with the same brush, and I was glad of it.

We made an odd threesome, and many happy summer days were spent in each others company.

They demanded nothing of me that I was unwilling to give, and I gave them what I could when they were around.

While their visits became more frequent to me that summer, they went off on their own to find new people to befriend, new places to see, different things to do…and I didn’t begrudge them a moment of their time spent away from me.

I did dream of living my life as they did theirs one day; they gave me that.

A world where words did not hurt me; where I could be who I was with no words of recrimination, no frowns, no need for those who embraced me for me to explain away what I could do, which is and was as much a part of me as my brown eyes.

George and Gracie embraced and exemplified freedom and acceptance far better than any other I’d known.

When they went missing, I did not fret; they liked to roam wide and far in search of new experiences, and I applauded that.

But after a week, then two, and then a month, I was confused, hurt, and upset.

I asked my parents for any word of George and Gracie, and the snippets of their travels they gave me were unsatisfactory, to say the least.

Until the day one of my parent’s friends showed up.

I was totally uninterested in the guy; kids don’t care much for whatever political or weather related conversation adults have.

My ears perked up only when my mother remembered to ask if he’d had news about George and Gracie lately.

Turns out he had.

In disbelief, I listened as my parents nodded and clucked in disapproval at the tale their friend told.

George and Gracie had traveled quite a few miles to come across a neighbor well known for his foul temperament.

As was their norm, George had approached with a smile on his face, with Gracie following a few paces behind.

The temperamental neighbor had not only ignored George’s greeting, but went into his house without a word.

Not knowing what to do, George had stood there, still with a smile on his face, Gracie sitting beside him.

When the neighbor emerged from his house, George and Gracie stepped forward to try greeting him again.

I don’t know what Grace thought when George fell down dead beside her.

I only know that Grace fell next; that she did not die as easily or quickly as her mate.

I know that the neighbor looked at his handiwork with more pleasure than he looked at most things; he was a man who expected a living handed to him; when it was not forthcoming, he took it out on whoever was handy.

No one seemed to realize this was cold blooded murder, and I looked on aghast as the adults easily continued their conversation.

It still doesn’t make sense to me, though it might to others.

See, the fundamental truth for me will always be that you don’t have to follow in another’s footprints to get where you need to be or learn what you need to know.

Sometimes you are better served to follow paw prints.

You know those songs, books, interviews and so on where various people in the public eye groan and moan about not being seen as they are; you know, as a real person?

They can never trust anyone new on the scene; never know if the person is genuinely interested in them or only interested in what they can provide for the new ‘friend’ in question?

Know what I call these poor unfortunate people who have ‘friends’ approaching them just to glory in their exalted presence?

I call them lucky bastards.

Because I and every psychic, seer, medium, and Oracle are not people; didn’t you know?

When you grab a candle when the lights go out, it’s because you want to see your way forward without breaking your neck on the damned shoes the kids left on the stairs.

Or maybe because you left your own shoes on the stairs; who cares?

You don’t note the unique pattern of each candle you burn while the electric company sends out their vanguard; again, all you want is to see your way forward and avoid any obstacles in your path.

Which is traditionally what Oracles are; candles that give you what warmth and light they can before you no longer need their light.

You don’t realize the candle is jaded and cynical when you hold it, unless you tilt the fucking thing and it sprays you with burning hot wax; then you might hold a grudge.

The candle sure as shit does.

Is this because I’m the Oracle for quite a few people?

Sure it is.

Because no Oracle in recorded history is known for their slamming social life or vast network of loyal friends.

Instead, they are known for their sight.

No name assigned; even the Delphic Oracle; who is referred to as a she, but her name is not commonly mentioned; if it’s even known…anymore than the other Oracles names that time has produced.

Oh they were important; we can glean that much from history.

But they were prized for their ability to see; not to be.

So it is with those of us who walk today, and because of it, I find myself at a crossroads I arrive at regularly every year.

It is my choice if I can recover some enthusiasm for another crop of callers should I go forward with the next season of Psychically Correct.

I like my callers; don’t get me wrong.

I like helping them with their problems, and showing another side to every Oracle; the side that contains (gasp) a real, foul mouthed person who calls it like she sees it.

This is not what people expect in their Oracle; but it is vastly entertaining, I gather.

People have been consistently shocked for six or seven seasons of the show; guests entertained, and what’s more, other entertainers and metaphysicians invite me on their show…and why do they do this?

Because they see a person, not an Oracle; they deserve more credit than you know for this.

My beloved Tweeps, as I call them; the people I know and adore on Twitter (you know who you are…and there are A LOT of you) know me as a person first, and don’t even think about the Oracle bit of things…well, most of the time it works that way.

Every now and again someone wants the Oracle, and asks a question; I suppose they figure I owe it to them.

A lot of people figure the Oracle is for the good of all, so why not use it?

Same thing happens on Facebook, where I have a smaller cluster of good friends, clients, and people i just flat out like.

It doesn’t matter where I turn; there are always a few who want the Oracle, not the person.

Some are friends hailing back to grade and middle school; once we reconnect they have lots of questions needing answers; why recently one called into the show believing preferential treatment would be shown, then added insult to injury by leaving a voicemail on my personal number and when she didn’t get her answer fast enough; she texted me.

Some are friends I’ve chatted with online for years as a person… when they find out I’m the local Oracle the email hits my inbox; asking if I have a minute to ‘help’ with some issues that have come up.

A few are people who know exactly what I do for a living, and decide one fine day they’ll do me the great favor of consulting me…without paying any inconvenient fees, of course.

Because they are my friends.

Some make a friend request on facebook and then email to ask me to see their future…and for the love of God, provide more details, not less.

A few are psychic/medium colleagues who should know better, but don’t.

All expect the Oracle to answer.

This Oracle doesn’t.

Unlike superstars in the public eye, I don’t have anyone willing to bask in my exalted presence.

What I do have is a lot of people willing to take every minute of time that I have to function as their own personal candle shielding them against the darkness.

Amazing how few realize the most important step to take in the event you need a candle to protect you from the dark and unknown.

At some point; you have to light it.

Okay.

Move is over, I’m settled in, and itching to get back on the airwaves; luckily for me, I have the delightful Daria Anne DiGiovanni guesting this coming Tuesday, April 5th, at 2pmEST right here:

http://bit.ly/hPlB3l

Daria DiGiovanni was born in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania and raised in the nearby suburb of Media. The youngest of five children in a close-knit family, she earned a B.A. in English from Villanova University before relocating to South Florida at age 27. A passionate wordsmith from a very early age, DiGiovanni’s experience includes copywriting, website content, e-proposal and RFP writing, blogging and book editing. Her first novel, Water Signs: A Story of Love and Renewal, loosely chronicles her own 16-year spiritual and personal growth journey in a simultaneously heart-wrenching and uplifting tale of first love, family, second chances, forgiveness, gratitude and patriotism.

DiGiovanni has also appeared on numerous internet talk radio programs, as well as traditional AM channels. Thanks to her performances during these interviews, show hosts Premo Mondone, Stephen Rhodes and Steven Rosenblum invited her to assume regular co-hosting duties on their unique Blog Talk broadcasts – opportunities the author/activist happily accepted. Until recently, on the first and third Saturdays of  the month at 9 p.m. Eastern, she co-hosted Red State Town Hall with Premo Mondone,  and on Tuesday evenings at 9 p.m. Eastern, The Republican Temple with Stephen Rhodes.

Every Saturday at 6 p.m. DiGiovanni continues to co-host Conservative Republican Forum with Steven Rosenblum, which has received rave reviews from Parcbench.com. She also makes recurring visits to BTR programs Neidner’s Talk Show,  Freedom’s Wings, The Black Sphere , Patriot Action Live, The Fritch Show and Young Gun Conservative. And you can find her occasionally on Kevin Price’s excellent show, Price of Business on CBS Radio.

On January 7, 2010, DiGiovanni launched her own internet TV program called The Liberty Belle Hour on WAFS-TV. A high-energy combination of entertainment, insight and debate, the show features accomplished guests from a variety of fields including politics, pop culture, health and wellness, small-business and publishing. With the closure of the WAFS-TV studio at the end of June, 2010, DiGiovanni relocated The Liberty Belle Hour to Blog Talk Radio, where she now broadcasts every Thursday evening from 6-7 p.m. Eastern. The new show debuted on August 5, 2010 with Philly Sportsradio personality Steve Trevelise. And just as before, live chat is always open and calls are gratefully received!

In other news, Ms. DiGiovanni won the Book of the Week Award from Blurb! Talk Radio, competing with several other fiction writers for that coveted title. She appeared on Blurb! Talk Radio with Dr. Kent and Sally to discuss her book on July 15, 2009. Listen to the interview here.

On September 23, 2009, DiGiovanni addressed the Hawthorne Writers Group in Hawthorne, New Jersey. Watch the video of her presentation here.

Ms. DiGiovanni was also selected as one of twelve authors to participate in the Delray Beach Library’s Eleventh Annual Author’s Showcase, which took place on January 10, 2010. She appeared in a promotional piece prior to the event in the Boca Raton Forum, having been interviewed about her work by journalist, Marcie Shatzman.

She currently resides in Boca Raton, Florida.

On Psychically Correct, Suzanne and I are going to be fielding YOUR questions all show long, so don’t forget to call into (347)237-5339 to chat with us!

Have to cancel this weeks lineup, will be following hubby and our belongings on the road to my home state, Missouri; can’t resist the opportunity to get out of the Texas heat and live near a lake on several peaceful acres of land.

Hate to let Sarah Prout and Betsy Otter Thompson fans down, but life got in the way this time…

Will do my best to post asap after relocation!

I want to be upfront and honest right now; I expect to be moving house soon, so hopefully I will be able to squeeze both these interviews in; if not I will try and re-schedule and certainly inform you if my plans change!

In addition to Walking Through Illusion (published by O-Books, an imprint of John Hunt Publishing Ltd), Betsy Otter Thompson is the author of The Mirror Theory (published by Hampton Roads Publishing) and 4 self-published books through her own company, Ascension Publishing. The self-published books are now at of print, but Betsy hopes to eventually get them on e-books.

Betsy’s work has always gravitated toward the media. A native Philadelphian with a B.F.A. from the University of Pennsylvania, Betsy worked as an account executive for WFIL radio in Philadelphia, and from there went to radio stations WPEN and WFLN. After that, she became a commercial print model and acted in television commercials in New York and Philadelphia. For seventeen years, she worked in Los Angeles at the motion picture and television company Castle Rock Entertainment as the Assistant to the Chairman and CEO. In August ‘99, she followed her boss to Warner Bros. as he took a new position there as President and COO, and became his Executive Assistant. She is now writing full time. Betsy’s writing began unexpectedly while going through an especially difficult time in her life. She believes that her books were the answer to her prayers.

No better way to introduce Sarah than through her own words:

I’m the author of THE POWER OF INFLUENCE (Wiley 2010) and it’s my true passion to teach people to live creative and vibrant lives. I’m in my element when I’m brainstorming, playing with words and working with Photoshop. I’m inspired by art, design and ornateness. I believe that we create our own reality with our thoughts and feelings. I also believe that people take themselves too seriously and there’s nothing better than laughing until your face hurts.

In 2008, I started SPROUT PUBLISHING and have since created 2 self-published titles (SPROUT the Life You Love + SPROUT WEALTH) featuring bestselling authors and A-list entrepreneurs such as ARIELLE FORD, Lipstick Queen POPPY KING and EMMY award-winner, RHONDA BRITTEN. My first print run of 9,000 books sold out with record online pre-sales.

My love of social media blossomed over time and I now have over 40,000 followers on Twitter. I believe that the social web is amazing as long as you are authentic and engage with other people. In fact, (laugh) I met the love of my life (Mr. Sean Patrick Simpson) on Twitter which proves that the online world is a wonderland of magnificent possibilities!

I love to work with online entrepreneurs to brainstorm new ideas, product development + creative methods to engage and connect to their target audience. For more info on working with me please click here. I’ve been fortunate enough to work with many amazing clients from around the globe. If you need motivation, inspiration and a fire lit under your butt to kick-ass then I’m your girl!

On this weeks Literary Lowdown, I am so happy to welcome a the marvelous writer Maribeth Graham, who resides in Northeastern Pennsylvania. She is the mother of four and has been married for fourteen years to her high-school sweetheart. She is currently seeking representation for her middle-grade book titled The Graveyard Five. The coming-of-age novel centers around Christopher Bagolino and his four friends. After getting caught skipping school to hang out in the graveyard they are given an assignment they will never forget. Maribeth declared herself writer ten-years ago and has been working hard to become published ever since. She only recently began submitting her work for publication. When she realized she wanted a career in writing, she thought it would be important to educate herself on the craft before putting her work out there. She has two diplomas from The Institute of Children’s Literature. She applauds the ICL and encourages any beginning writers to enroll in their classes. Students are provided with talented instructors who guide, critique and support aspiring authors. In addition to the middle-grade novel, Maribeth has written several picture books and is currently finishing up her first YA novel. Although writing is her passion, she carries a full time job as a croupier (aka craps dealer). She prides herself in being an optimistic-fun loving girl and believes everything happens for a reason and in the time-line it is meant to. Maribeth invites you to read about her writing journey at her blog Writing Like Crazy http://www.ninidee.wordpress.com . She can also be found on Twitter under @YolaRamunno.

We will be taking YOUR questions on Wednesday at 12pmEST; give us a call at (347)237-5339 so we can chat with you…at some length; you know how I am.

I just had to include this quote; for those of you who know me, it fits my philosophies beautifully; for those of you who don’t….oh well.

“Murder the bastard inside who tells you not to get your hopes up; that fucker wins when you aim low.” –courtesy of Astrobarry.com

Just a quick heads up; I’m honored to have been asked to appear on thatchannel.com/Liquid Lunch with Hugh Reilly and co-hosts Stella Hunt, Daniel Katz, Natalie Filippelli, Erin Ademoglu, Janette Burke, and Marla Lukofsky tomorrow; since the show goes to air as I’m finishing Psychically Correct; I’ll be joining the hosts around fifteen to twenty minutes after they go on air; I’m not sure if we’ll be taking questions or not, but either way, it should be a hellaciously good show, because Zoe Moon will be joining me as a guest!

The link to head to is: http://www.thatchannel.com/liquidlunch

Now I need to head to my other computer to figure out how in the heck to get a blog post I’ve been dying to share up later this week!

Hope everyone had a Happy Valentine’s Day!

I am so looking forward to welcoming Editor and Writer Jessica Zolondek to the show for her unique perspective on the landscape out there for aspiring authors and those who are already published!

You can find Jessica at:

http://www.snowyowlpublications.org/

This weeks Psychically Correct is all about your questions and my offbeat answers, so give us a call and ask away.

In other news, on February 17th, I’ll be making a guest appearance on Primarily Paranormal with Tena Marie right here:

http://www.blogtalkradio.com/ggmradio/2011/02/18/primarily-paranormal-w-tena-marie

I’m assuming we will be taking calls on the show, so you’ve got two prime days to get your questions answered…in other words, don’t be a freakin stranger; call into (347)237-5339 to ask!

Have a blog post I need to get up; bring your kleenex because it’ll be a tearjerker. Fact is, I need to find my wordperfect program before I can access the file to post it here…that’s right-some post I already have ready and waiting to go!

Have a great week, and an amazing Valentine’s Day, everyone!

Bit late on posting; still valiantly battling a vicious cold, but the show must go on, and so it shall!

No doubt on this very blog you have seen Steven Curtis Lance’s poetry; I am so thrilled to welcome him to the show this Tuesday, 2/8 at 2pmEST; the link to listen to the show is:

http://www.blogtalkradio.com/ggmradio/2011/02/08/lydias-literary-lowdown-with-lydia-aswolf

Wednesday at 12pmEST, Suzanne and I are so thrilled to welcome the fabulous Astrologist Zoe Moon to the show; if you haven’t checked out her incredibly detailed FREE weekly forecasts, check it out here:

http://zoemoonastrology.blogspot.com/

Zoe also has her own amazing radio show, which you can catch every Thursday right here:

http://sky.radio.com/shows/the-zoe-moon-astrology-show/

I might sound a little froggy on both shows this week, but I just cannot find it within me to cancel either show in light of these two incredible guests I’ve been looking forward to interviewing for so long; here’s hoping you can understand me…but much more importantly, them, when you join us Tuesday and Wednesday!

I am often approached by young men and women, eager to know if they are about to get into a long term, committed relationship.

Most often, I advise them to take their time, and not leap into anything.

I do this because I know most of these young people don’t have the faintest idea what true commitment consists of.

If they persist in their quest for “the one,” I inform them in no uncertain terms of what real commitment means.

Because true commitment isn’t about being cute, everlasting happiness, or gazing into one another’s eyes for eternity.

True commitment means staying up and holding her hair when she’s puking her guts out, be it drunk or down with a bout of flu.

True commitment means using the applicator when his hemorrhoids are acting up.

You get to clean the applicator after you are done; he’s in too much pain to do so himself.

True commitment means knowing when she says “Nothing” is wrong.

Something is wrong.

Unfortunately, you are going to have to take it like the man or woman you are and “talk it out.”

True commitment means knowing you can manage to provide your kid’s Christmas.

But you and your partner will go without.

True commitment means you pick up her tampons while visiting the store alone.

Even if there is a price check on the damn things.

True commitment is watching your partner give birth.

After you both recover; her from the process, and you from the visual effects of said labor.

You’ll be eager to resume intimacy-because you love her.

True commitment is having a raging bladder infection, and making love anyhow.

When your partner notices your fever, you smile and take it like the true woman you are.

True commitment is picking up whatever your wife craves, whenever she craves it.

No matter how ridiculous it might be…or at what hour it’s demanded.

True commitment is turning to one another in the midst of a financial crisis.

You don’t how you will make it.

Only that you will make it.

Together.

True commitment is waking up together, and smiling secretly as your nude wife heads towards the bathroom in the morning.

Scratching her ass on the way.

Yeah, you hit that…and are happy you do.

True commitment means you get used to your partner scratching due South when the urge strikes.

Be it with guests present, while out grocery shopping, or at your mother’s house.

True commitment is threatening to beat the stuffing out of someone else’s wife…because she insulted your wife.

True commitment is knowing your partner hates sorting socks.

You sort socks so they don’t have to, even though you secretly hate those little fuckers, too.

True commitment means telling her that outfit makes her bum looks bigger than a elephant’s because you care.

True commitment is thanking him or her when told your bum looks bigger than a elephant’s because you know they dared to care.

True commitment means exercising and dieting together.

Even though you would willingly rip out a random guy’s throat for a Snickers bar.

You refrain from verbally or physically assaulting your partner.

True commitment is NOT withholding sex for power. On that path lies danger.

True commitment is your partner telling you his mother’s cookies taste better than your’s do.

Instead of being insulted, you try harder, and come up with the superior cookie.

Eternal smugness ensues.

True commitment means going to your partner’s family reunion willingly.

True commitment is listening all year for your impossible to buy for partner.

Scrimping and saving to get that ONE thing they mentioned they wanted just to see the surprise on their face which is your one, true gift for the holidays.

True commitment means on a sweltering night when the air conditioner busts, you give him a sponge bath with a cool cloth to keep him comfortable.

If you do a good job, you might get lucky.

True commitment means when your partner faints, puking on your hands, you catch her anyway.

Then you help wash her hair, if that’s what you caught her by.

True commitment means cutting his toenails.

Even if they seem to leap of free will into your mouth, eyes, or other vulnerable orifices.

True commitment is finally trying the Swedish meatball recipe he makes that you avoided for years.

You love it, and your partner doesn’t hold it against you-except for that really weird gleam in his eye’s every time he makes it.

Hmm, eternal smugness ensues.

True commitment means not faking orgasms. Ever.

True commitment is sincerely wanting to know when he comes home silent and taciturn.

Not for curiosity, but simply because you love him enough to find out and make him feel better in whatever way you can.

True commitment means matching the indentations and cuts on your lower leg with his toenails to prove he kicked the crap out of you in bed the night before.

Helpless giggles on both sides ensue.

True commitment is dozing off into a peaceful night’s rest.

Only to be jerked awake when your partner decides she wants to talk.

Instead of taking the end table and beating her unconscious, you say yes in all the right places until she shuts up and you can finally get to sleep.

True commitment dictates through the years, you will each tell one another the same story roughly ten thousand times.

Neither of you mind, and in many cases, encourage the retelling.

True commitment dictates you will see your partner lose a loved one.

You will cradle their head in your arms while they cry.

You will drop everything, spend your last penny, get a loan if you have to, to make sure they won’t miss the funeral, that final good bye.

True commitment is seeing your partner age and suffer through the indignities time places upon us all.

You will turn your partner, if you must, every two hours to prevent bedsores.

You will read to your beloved with Alzheimer’s and remind them of the good times, the bad times.

Anything to keep just a little bit of them with you.

True commitment is knowing one will outlive the other.

How you face that truth is up to you.

True commitment is when the honeymoon ends…and real, ‘true’ commitment begins.

Nothing worth having comes easy.

True, long lasting, commitment is worth having.

But like like anything else worth having…

It doesn’t come easy.