School Kinda Sucks 5: Pauper Prince


(Continued from School Kinda Sucks 4:  Game of Life)

The next night, my dream continues, as it is wont to happen, on the occasion.  As of late, my dreams run into each other, like oddly mismatched but related scenes of a strange movie.

I run into the delinquent pauper prince again.  This time, he shows up outside, on the mini basketball court near the vegetable patch.  Because he is familiar with street fighting, not to mention the fact that he also possesses some amazing martial arts skills, the guy easily beats out the kids on the court.  Then, as befitting a true introvert, he refuses to join in on the regularly scheduled games each evening, out on the real court by the gym.

I somehow find myself by his side as he sits on a bench watching the other kids play.

“You’re good,” I said, by way of greeting.

He shrugged and said nothing.

“Is this your favorite thing to do?”  I tried again.

“Nope.”  He answered.


Great.  He’s one of THOSE one-word warriors.  This was going to be either long and drawn out, or short and sweet, depending on my level of tolerance.

“What else do  you like to do?”  One more try.

“I dunno.  I do a little drumming sometimes,” he said, looking at something in the distance.

Now we were getting somewhere.

“Drumming?  As in marching band?  Or as in rock band?”


I smiled.  “Cool!  Me too.  I’m a singer.”

He gazed at me askance with the same expression that I’ve seen when someone thinks I’m equating a karaoke singer with a real front line singer or entertainer.

“No, really,” I said with earnestness.  “I sang with a band for several years.  In fact, there’s going to be an audition later that I’m going to try out for.  Wanna come and audition too?  I know they’re also looking for a drummer.”

girl12“No.”  He said too quickly.

“Why not?  You don’t think you’re good enough?”

“Didn’t say that.  I just don’t want to, okay?”

“Fine.”  I said, feigning disinterest.  “They are pretty good, and they really only want you if you’re half-way decent any way.”

He scowled, not saying anything.  That familiar distant look returning to his eyes.  I sighed inwardly.  Why do I have to be the one to try and work with this stick-in-the-mud?

“Well, it will be later this evening, right here at the basketball court.  Come if you wish.”

And I left him to his own devices.

Fast forward to the evening, and there I was, chatting with the lead guitarist to find out when I was up for the audition.  He hands me a slip of paper with handwritten notes, and I find my name, half-way down the list.  I would be performing two songs, both of which were familiar standards that I normally used for auditions.  No biggie.

I was running the songs through my head when the guitarist tapped me on the shoulder.


“Come over this way,” the guitarist indicated to me.  “Take a look over there,” he pointed to a group of guys sitting around the speakers.

I smirked.  There, in the midst of the chattering group of musicians was the pauper prince.  He was the only guy in the group who did not say a word, yet looked as if he fit in, misfits as they all were any way.


“Yeah, and?”

“He said he’s with you, so this audition is basically just a formality.”

“Why?”  I raised my eyebrows.

“If we’re getting you and him, then you’re both in, no further questions.  He auditioned earlier and he’s awesome on the drums.  He says you’re a pro at vocals.  If he’s that good and he’s endorsed you, then you gotta be amazing!”

I turned away, not knowing what to say.

I hadn’t even auditioned yet, and just like that, I’d been accepted as a condition of someone else getting in.  This wasn’t how I had envisioned the night would go down.

I mentally kicked myself for having forgotten one thing very important.  This pauper prince may be a delinquent thug, but he was street smart, which meant he could always figure out a way to get what he wanted, by hook or by crook.

“I change my mind,” I said, turning away from the guitarist.  “I don’t think I’ll be auditioning for vocals after all.”

guitarist2“Why not?  We need you!”  He insisted.

“You’ve got all these other singers auditioning.  Pick one from the list.”  I said halfheartedly, shoving the piece of paper back at him.

“Come on.  He won’t join us without you.”

“So I’m allowed to join only because you want him.  What does that make me?  A side-kick?”

“It makes you our lead singer and also someone who can influence a person who really needs a second chance at life.  You know his background and what he’s been through.”

“I don’t know him that well.  And any way, I’m pretty sure you guys can convince him to be your drummer without me having to be a part of all this.”

“You’ve got it all wrong,” the guitarist sighed.  “I know his type.  He won’t join without you because he’s leaning on you for strength.  He can’t do this without you.  Please.  You’d be doing us both a favor.”

Well, since he put it that way, I couldn’t very well refuse, now could I?



School Kinda Sucks…The Game of Life


So we landed, in a place that looked just about as futuristic as you can imagine.  There were air ships coming and going, and people walking around with things levitated around them.

Since I didn’t know how to levitate stuff yet, I had to carry my things on my back, like a pack mule.  I didn’t feel particularly out of place since most of the students queuing around me also didn’t have a clue how to levitate stuff, and were, for the most part, looking just as lost and confused as I was feeling.


The dorm room I was given was a tiny little thing, but it was cozy and comfortable.  I looked around, made sure I knew which door was mine, and then I walked over to the head master’s office, since I had been given the directive to meet up with him as soon as I landed.

The headmaster’s office is large and filled with all sorts of things.  I wandered around, looking at his things and trying to make heads or tails out of whatever it was I was looking at.  Some objects were just outright strange in that ancient dusty fashion, while others looked seriously complicated in an extremely high tech manner.  The odds and ends were colorful and jumbled, as if a careless collector had just upended a huge bag filled with gadgets from across the universe.


As I looked at the things, more formulas and mathematical equations sprang forth from them and downloaded into my mind via my eyes.  It would seem then, that those equations were what would be needed to use those gadgets to do whatever it is the gadgets did.

“Ah.  Glad to see you made it safe and sound,” a voice greeted me amongst the jumble of colorful strange things.

It was an older man, dressed in the richly appointed robes that, presumably, would be what the headmaster of the school wore.  He seemed nice enough, but he had a strange knowing glint in his eyes as he stared at me.  His lips twisted with an odd smile, which led me to wonder if there was something about me that was not quite right.

Now, before you even have to ask, I will state for the record that this man was definitely NOT Old Dude, whose eyes I could always spot, no matter which physical body he took on.  My new headmaster, was a completely different entity.

He led me over to his office and pointed to the chair across from his desk, and we proceeded to have a long chat about all sorts of stuff–random stuff which I don’t quite recall in the waking state.


I do remember that we talked for a long time.  He asked me all sorts of questions, and I answered as best as I could.  Then he left the room and I found myself just sitting there with nothing to do.

As I continued to await his return, my eyes were drawn to a board game he had, splayed across the front of his desk.  It was so large that it took up most of the desk space.  Feeling a little bored, and without much thought, I started moving trees and houses around in haphazard fashion when a woman ran into the room.

“Don’t touch any of that stuff!”  She yelled out.  “The Headmaster does not allow anyone to touch that board!”

I withdrew my guilty hands, feeling remorse.  I really knew better than to touch other people’s things without permission, but in my dream state, especially lucid ones, I sometimes think I’m just making it all up and I can do whatever I please.

“I’m sorry.”  I whispered.

She stared at me for a moment, and then sighed with something akin frustrated resignation.  “You are the only one that could get away with this.  He doesn’t allow anyone in this room, let alone touch his stuff.  Nobody even dares to poke their head in here, and yet, he leaves you alone in this room!”  She continued berating me.


“I can’t believe you have the nerve to start moving trees and buildings around, and all he does is laugh and shake his head!”  

I stared at her in confusion as she pointed to the open window.  Following the direction of her finger, I gasped as I saw the scene of confusion below.  I had certainly uprooted trees and buildings, and they were now in various helter skelter locations.

From where I sat, I could see the Headmaster down below, reorganizing the houses and trees back to their original locations.  As he levitated the structures back into place, I noticed that those items also moved on the board in front of me.

Ah!  So the board itself was a miniature representation of the actual school grounds.  Of course he would not want anyone to touch it!  I was about to say something akin to profuse apologies when the Headmaster appeared in between us.

princeHe had with him, a boy with a sullen demeanor.  The boy looked as if he did not want to be there, but was too intimidated by the Headmaster to say anything.

“It’s okay,” he said to the woman.  “You may leave us.  No harm done.” He dismissed her and then indicated to the boy to take a seat next to me.  Then he wound his way to his seat.

“Since you are an advanced student, I need for you to look after this student for me,” Headmaster said.

I looked up, thinking he was talking to the guy, but no.  He was staring straight at me, as the poor guy fidgeted and looked down at his shoes.

I swallowed, suddenly realizing he meant for me to look after the male student.  But I had just arrived.  I literally knew nothing about the school, let alone what I was supposed to be doing.  How was I supposed to assist another person?

In front of my eyes suddenly appeared an electronic file.  It was filled with images and information about the boy.  I flipped through the pages and as I did, the information streamed into my mind, regarding his status.

It seemed, the student had been something of a troublemaker and truant throughout his life.  His family, a noble house of great wealth and rank, had turned their backs on him, striking the boy from their family will and disinheriting him.

He was, in essence, the paupered prince.


Cut loose from the family’s structured protection, he had turn rogue, joining one nefarious warring faction after another.  It was during one of their frequent and bloody fights that he had finally been picked up and brought to the school, as a last ditch effort to rehabilitate him back into the folds of civilized, normalized society.

How I was able to understand all this from a quick perusal of his file, I have no clue, but it certainly explained why he was so silent and sullen.

I glanced over at the guy sitting beside me.  He was, for all practical intents and purposes, a homeless vagabond with no family and no future.  He glared back at me, baleful and dejected, and in no small amount, embarrassed that I had been able to read his entire bio in a matter of seconds.

I sensed that it was too soon to talk to him, so I turned back to the Headmaster.

“So what is it that  you want me to do right now?”

The Headmaster leaned forward.  “Have you heard of this game?”  he indicated at the pieces on the table.   “It’s called Life,”

“How do you play it?”  I asked.

The Headmaster grinned and produced, from his pocket, a set of dice.  The Game of Life is easy.  You roll the dice and move the characters to wherever the dice land.”  



“But the things on this board actually happens out there,” I muttered with growing alarm at the sudden thought of what would happen should a real game be played.

“Yes.  Yes it does,” he grinned wickedly and without remorse.  “It all depends on the dice.”

“But what if you roll a really bad number and someone is horribly affected?”  I asked with dismay.

“That will never happen,” he said with a chuckle.  “Not unless I wish for it to happen.”

“They’re dice.  How can you control the end result?”

“Watch carefully,” he replied.  With a flick of his wrist, he threw the dice onto the board.

Ignoring the dice, I stared at the Headmaster’s face in amazement.  His steely grey eyes were narrowed, focusing on the dice, even before they hit the game board.

dice (1)I quickly glanced at the dice faces and hissed with awe.  The dots were changing in the middle of the throw.  I caught my breath as the answer suddenly hit me.

It didn’t matter what the value of the dice were.  I knew beyond the shadow of doubt that upon landing, they would display whatever the Headmaster wanted the numbers to be.

I could hear the dice rattle as they bounced a couple of times before landing.  Sure enough.  At their final resting place, the dice had changed yet again, to show the number of dots that the Headmaster desired.

“You see, my dear.”  He indicated at the dice.  “It is your will–and your will alone–which determines the results of the dice, and thereby, your fate.”  He handed me the dice.  “Go on.  Throw the dice and make the call before they hit the board.”   

I reached out and took the dice with great trepidation.

“Blow,” he suggested, holding out his empty palm and mimicking the gesture.

I glanced at him, then at the dice in my hand.

Then I blew on them.

Then I woke up.


School Kinda Sucks…Classroom Drama


So where was I?  Oh yeah.  I was telling you about the philosci dreams I’d been having, EVERY SINGLE NIGHT after Old Dude appeared and told me I had to go back to school.

I hadn’t written anything for about a week because to be honest, there was very little to say, other than the massive, boring downloads that had to do with very large, and conversely, very small things, and the actions and reactions that they exhibited with each other, as well as in conjunction with other external factors.

infinityIt’s all rather tedious and not much fun, but it was very predictable.  As soon as I got into bed, I would fall into a deep dream-state filled with these moving diagrams of geometries, spinning and cavorting in space.

And there would be some dull voice, droning on and on about how different geometries affect the currents of the liquid that they were floating in.

I learned about the mind-numbing array of geometries out there and their specific names, and  I learned how to calculate the effects of the currents, depending on the shape difference of each geometry.

I learned that it was these currents that had been generated by these various odd-shaped geometries that caused very predictable things to happen in other areas…that so-called spooky action at a distance was really just the currents of the liquid water bouncing off the odd angles and planes of various geometries.


OK.  I know, I know.  Enough with these boring details. I know you guys would prefer to hear the action parts of the dream.

I don’t remember most of the philosci data I received upon waking, but I do remember the classroom drama that I was involved in last night, so let me recount the tale before I completely forget about it all.

As I’ve been saying, Old Dude put me back in school.  My classroom had plenty of students, but one of those students is an exquisite girl with long wavy black hair and eyes so mesmerizing that the only way to describe her would be a single word.



For some reason, she followed me around from class to class, and attached herself to me.

From the look of things, we were best friends.  However, attached to her were five guys of varying looks and disposition.  As she clung onto me, they stuck to her like little puppies on a stretchy line.  Wherever we went, there they invariably would appear.


These guys were all in love with her and each vowed in his own way, that he would be there for her, through thick and thin, no matter what happened.  It was all very sweet in a corny kind of way.

Well, it would have been fine if it hadn’t been for the fact that she got pregnant.

Of the five guys following her, only two had anything to do with the pregnancy.  Since there was no way of knowing which guy had actually fathered the child, until such time as the baby was born and could be tested, she asked me to be the mediator, and to set up talks with the two guys who were affected by this turn of event.

So there I was, talking with them.  I pointed out the two who actually had something to do with the state she was in, and surprisingly enough, all five vehemently insisted that they would take care of her. Since I was her friend, it was my job to pass on whatever gifts and support the guys had promised her.

girlblackhairredlipsAt first, it was a very steady stream of gifts and funds, but towards the end of the semester, there was only one guy left who was still around and taking her to and from classes, and making sure she was tutored enough to finish out the semester.

Exams came and went, and on the last day, when we were supposed to go check our scores, I was there with her.  The only guy who was still hanging around her went into the classroom to check on the exam scores.

For a long time, he did not come out, so she told me to go in and look for him.  I slipped into the room to see that he was in deep discussion with one of the teachers.  From where I was standing, I could see that his score was 1050, a full 50 points above the top mark of 1000.  Her score was 520, which was a failing grade (a passing score would need to be 550).

I could see what was taking him so long.  He was pleading with the teacher to please, take the 50 from his score and pass it over to my friend so she could have a 570, which would be considered very low, but passing.  I was amazed at his score because I had already seen my own grade, which was 970—not shabby for a lazy Taobabe like me; but how he got an extra 50 points was beyond me, since I didn’t see any extra bonus point questions.

In any case, it was a moot point.  The teacher was having none of it.  My friend would have to retake the semester to properly learn the information that she did not absorb.  The guy could not shift his extra points over to her, and in fact, the teacher had no power to do so either.

I slipped back out of the classroom to let her know what had just transpired.  This was bad because it meant she would be left behind while the rest of us who had passed, moved onto the next world where we would continue our studies.

hug4From behind me, I could hear the sound of the door opening and then closing, and I could see them wordlessly look at each other.

I left them, clinging to each other as if they would soon be parted.  And in deed, that was what happened.

The very next day, after finals had been calculated, I was on board some flying ship, along with the rest of the students who had passed.  We were heading out for another school.

Our next adventure lies ahead.  More classes to take.  More streaming downloads of crazy philosci information.  More new friends to make.  More of everything.

This dream still has details to it, but I’ll leave it for the next installment, since this post is getting rather long.


School Kinda Sucks…A Little


The night after my visit from Lao Tzu, telling me I had to go back to school, I started getting nothing but philosophy-scientific downloads.  I say philosophy-scientific (and I’m gonna call it philosci from now on) because–well, that’s how Old Dude teaches.

Everything is a combination of philosophy and science.  Even boring things like eating an orange, or doing the laundry, result in reams and reams of mathematical equations and scientific theorems explaining the activities, all downloading through my eyes and into my brain.

And I’d be like…why?  I’ve had these philosci cram sessions in the past, and I know how it culminates.  It may make sense at the moment I’m getting the information, but I’m not gonna remember any of this when I wake up anyway, so why am I getting all this stored into my brain?

pogo.jpegIn fact, I even questioned him about its usefulness two nights ago, during a particularly frustrating lucid dream, when I was trying (and failing miserably) at riding a pogo stick, from an altitude of about half a mile up in the air.

I was also simultaneously trying to manage the download of equations explaining the mathematics behind riding a pogo stick—in midair!  On a jittery, unstable pogo stick!

I swear, my brain felt like it was going to melt with all those string equations.

Now, I call it a pogo stick because it looks like a pogo stick, with pedals where you put your feet on, and a long pole with handle bars but you don’t really jump up and down to get anywhere.  It just sorta surfs on the airwaves.

The handlebars are equipped with all these controls and blinking lights, but pushing them causes unexpected and crazy things to happen, so I tried not to push too many of those buttons at the same time.  It’s like trying to familiarize yourself with a video game joy stick when you don’t know what all the buttons do, except you’re up in the air and don’t want to cause too much mayhem by  pushing too many wrong combinations.

Since this was something that you use to ride, up in the sky, I had a momentary giggle when I realized that anyone on the ground, looking up, would think that I was a witch, riding a push broom, because it sorta kinda looks like it could be that, especially at night…and against a full moon, no less.


But I hasten to assure you that it is no push broom.  It’s basically just a simple mode of transportation that students and kids use to get around, similar to a student’s bicycle (as opposed to the space vehicles that the adults used).  However, much like the complexity of a bike, this pogo stick also isn’t as simple as it looks if you don’t know how to ride one, and I was botching it very badly.

Everyone else around me was surfing from cloud to cloud, and here I was, sinking lower every time I tried to make it bounce upwards.  Nothing I did was making it work.  I was starting to cry.

And then suddenly, some guy felt sorry for me and rode up behind me on his pogo stick.  He reached out, grabbed one of my handlebars, and shifted himself from his stick onto mine.  Suddenly, the pogo stick felt its controls being manipulated by expert hands.  It responded with joy, rising up into the bright azure sky and began flying with confident power.


My face cracked into a big smile.  This was fun!  I was jetting amongst the clouds!  Above me was blue sky.  Below me was blue ocean.  And behind me was an expert flyer, giving me a taste of how it felt to be able to utilize this pogo stick at its maximum potential.  It was an amazing feeling!

The guy stood behind me, on the pogo stick, and effectively flew the thing.  I could see where his fingers were placed as he pushed the combinations of buttons that allowed the pogo stick to move at his command.  Even his feet did things to the pedals, which I suddenly realized, also had controls that had to be worked.  In fact, your entire body had to work to make this thing fly right.  You don’t just stand there holding onto the handles and expect it to go anywhere.

‘Come with me,’ he said into my ear.

‘Sure!’  I agreed immediately with a bright smile.  It was a lot more fun than struggling with this pogo stick on my own.

As soon as I agreed, he launched us off.  But then—I saw an image of myself splitting from me, and I could see my image self moving away with the guy, towards the distant clouds!  Only…I was still in the same spot, even as he and the-other-me wind surfed away.

It took me a few moments to realize that I was still there, and that something had happened to prevent me from leaving with him, almost as if it was a dimensional split at that fraction of time, whereby only a presence that looked like me left with him.  I was, however, still here, in this dimensional timeline.

In a panic, I pushed some buttons to try and remain aloft.  But the pogo stick did not respond to me and I began  sinking again, into the ocean below.


To be fair, it was a slow floating descent, since I could have just abandoned the pogo stick and float on the air by myself (kind of like walking instead of riding a bike…you’ll eventually get where you need to go, but much slower than biking).  However, I stuck with the pogo stick until I finally floated to the ocean’s surface.

As I landed, from the periphery of my vision, I saw someone speed past me, holding onto something dark and long.  It was a wind tunnel, made of some dark grey lightweight fabric, and I suddenly found myself inside the moving wind tunnel.  I could feel the wind rushing through the fabric of the tunnel, and I laughed because it looked so cool.


Then I heard a deep, reverberating voice:


Belong to me.

And as the wind tunnel moved around me, I emerged from its tail end into another realm.

And then I woke up.

But that was two nights ago.

Since then, I’ve had more of those dreams where nothing interesting happened except for more philosci downloads.

All night long.  Just downloads.

And then, last night, I finally got a more interesting dream.  I’ll tell you about it as soon as I get some dinner.

Benadryl® Dreams


Spring arrived in my area within the last couple of weeks in the forms of millions and millions of blooms.  From tiny flowers on all the trees to wild blossoms in the meadows and on the hills, the valley shimmered with multi-faceted drifting petals, riding on the gusts of warm air like shimmering perfumed mists.

While it is absolutely stunning, it can also be deadly.

Last night, I was having one of my allergy fits due to the sheer number of flowers that were blooming everywhere.  My asthma was kicking me hard, and I was wheezing and choking on all the pollen and plant dust.  In desperation, I took a Benadryl®, even though I truly hate the drug because it makes me so sleepy.  But you know–breathing is a good thing.

Now, normally, when I’m on a Benadryl®-induced coma, I am knocked out, with no memory of any dreams.  That’s unusual because most nights, I do dream (and very vividly) when I sleep.  However, last night, Lao Tzu came calling while I was sleeping.

I didn’t recognize him at first.

Lao-tzu-StatueI was looking at an exquisitely carved marble statue that began to morph into a jolly old dude.  Just to be sure, I asked him what his name was.

He chuckled and pointed to the initials LT carved into his marble robe.  ‘You know who I am.’

‘Umm.  Lao Tzu?’  I ventured a guess, knowing that it was exactly who he was.

‘Of course!’  He grinned, looking around.  ‘You have a nice home,’ he continued, which caused me to notice my surroundings for the first time.

It was a huge cavern that had been intricately carved into the marble mountains, but that wasn’t the strange part.

The craziest thing about it was that I recognized my condo, even though I’d never been in a place like that before in my waking state.

The detailed carvings on the walls were detailed and surreal.  Here was my dining area, with a marble table overfilled with food of all varieties.  Over there was my living area, one huge chair with a bunch of other chairs facing it.

And towards the back of the cavern was my sleeping chamber.  Soft white linens hung from the ceiling, draping over the bed in abundant soft folds.  There were red and gold pillows on the bed, and softly lit white paper lanterns all around.  For a marble cave, it was very opulent.

castlecaveI was walking around the front of the condo, admiring the doorway when a guy walked out of the carved doorway of the condo next to mine.

The owner of that one was some seriously muscle-bound dude who was freakishly tall.  I watched with curiosity as he worked on installing some lights on the two huge carved marble column torches on either side of his front door.

boyegyptian‘How does this look?’  He asked me, as he turned on the lights.

‘Oooh!  That’s too bright,’ I said, squinting.  ‘Try using a softer yellow light.  It’s supposed to look like flames, not spotlights.’

‘You’re right,’ he said, and reached into the sconces to unscrew the bulbs.  ‘I have some flickering yellow LEDs that look like flames.  I’ll use those instead.’

I gave him a thumbs up and was in the process of turning back to my condo when some crazy old man ran up to my door with a tiny baby.

He was wild-eyed, and was holding the baby by one foot, looking as if he was going to swing the baby’s head into my carved marble door.

‘Oh shit!’  I yelled, and ran to grab the baby from his hands.  ‘Take him away!’  I called out, and a couple of guys, who were somehow conveniently following behind me, lunged at him and removed him from the premise.

As he was being dragged away, I cradled the baby in my arms, hoping it wasn’t hurt.  It seemed to be ok.  I scowled over the baby’s head as I soothed it.  Who the hell sacrifices babies any more?  What a crazy old fuck.

So here I am, holding onto the baby (turns out, it’s a girl) when old Lao Tzu comes back around with a huge light blonde tiger and a book bag.

‘You need to take her back to her family, and you need to finish your last semester, so go.’  He said.

I hung the backpack around the tiger’s neck and clambered onto his back with the baby in my arms.

The tiger had a very broad and cushy back–broad enough to place the sleeping baby on her back, in front of me.  While she slept, we rode the tiger to my school.

Once I got to the school, I dug around inside the backpack to find information about where I was supposed to go.


Within the backpack, I found books that were chock full of cash and checks crammed in between the pages, and bundles of what looked like bank documents filled with stocks and bonds.

I made a mental note to thank Old Lao Tzu.  He had provided me with plenty of blessings.  I wasn’t going to be a starving student, in any case.

And here was when I woke up.  I still haven’t gotten the chance to get the baby back to her family, and I still have a tiger for a ride, not to mention an entire semester left of school.

I wonder what all this means.



Whatchamacallit Wanderer


It’s very difficult to determine the age of a woman.  She can look 20 and be 40.  Conversely, she can look 60 and be 40.  Given this huge age discrepancy, how would one go about the process of deducing a woman’s real age?

Well, one way to make that educated guess is to look at the friends she hangs out with.  If she is in a group of young teenage-looking girls, then she may be considered to be in her twenties.  If, however, she hangs out with some older women and they are all at a charity lunch for the preservation of Bradypus variegatus, then perhaps she’s not so young.

Applying this scientific methodology, scientists were able to give approximate ages for objects out there in space.  The premise is simple.  If you hang out with a young crowd, then you, yourself, are young.

About five years ago (October 1, 2012 to be exact) a group of scientists from Cornell University published a finding of a huge whatchamacallit floating around on its lonesome, about 178 light-years from Earth.


This Whatchamacallit was named CFBDSIRJ214947.2-040308.9 because you see–it’s a common scientific disease to call a whatchamacallit something that cannot be pronounced by the human tongue.  I bet a real extraterrestrial would be able to say the name just fine though, even with that long string of numbers behind the string of consonants.

Since it’s just too hard for me to continually refer to this object as CFBDSIRJ214947.2-040308.9, I’m going to temporarily name it LaDonna, to pay tribute to one of our most famous Wanderers, LaDonna Adrian Gaines, better known by her stage name Donna Summer.

Until such time as those who are part of The Powers That Be, deem it fitting to name this rogue wanderer something that can actually be pronounceable, I am going to continue to call it LaDonna.

So, to get back to what I was saying, at the time the scientists found LaDonna, they (incorrectly) attributed it to a grouping of other wanderers around that area of space, which allowed them to gauge with 87% probability that LaDonna was around the 20 to 200 million year range because they thought LaDonna was a member of a wandering 50-120 million-year-old group named AB Doradus.  [1]

AB Doradus (even though it’s not really what this post is all about) is a pre-main-sequence quadruple star system  in the constellation Dorado.  AB Doradus is part of the AB Doradus Moving Group, a loose conglomerate of about 30 stars that are all approximately the same age, having been birthed by  the same giant molecular Mothercloud.  Since ejection from Mothercloud, they have been moving in the same general direction, and that’s how we know their approximate age.

girlfingers5.jpgHowever, after awhile, it became apparent that LaDonna simply does not belong with this group.  She was moving around on her own and doing her own thing.

In fact, she’s a solitary one, which meant the scientists couldn’t date her alongside with the other young thangs because she was never a part of that group.

Continued observation after that 2012 publication began to reveal that LaDonna might have a mass roughly four to seven times that of Jupiter, making it a rogue planet candidate, as opposed to a brown dwarf because it’s just not large enough, with the current calculations as put forth by modern-day astronomers.

To be considered a brown dwarf, LaDonna would have to be at least 13 times larger than Jupiter, and although her girth is ample, seeing she’s much bigger than Jupiter, she’s just not large enough to be a brown dwarf.

So what else can we use to guess the age of that aforementioned ageless woman?  Well, another way to make that educated guess is to look at her clothing and her sense of style.  There are marked differences between a 40-year-old woman’s clothing and fashion sense, as opposed to a 20-something or a 60-something.

Applying this methodology to LaDonna means we need to see what and how she is physically constructed.


On March 2, 2017, the same Cornell astrophysicists published yet another paper on LaDonna, stating that they can no longer say with confidence that she is a planet, and in fact, she may be a brown dwarf because they are not certain of her mass.  This is a tell-tale sign that LaDonna may be much larger than what was previously assumed.  [2]

In fact, I’m going to bet my lunch (I’m having braised shrimp over steamed white rice) that LaDonna is, in fact, a brown dwarf, but that’s not the only thing strange about her.  Here’s the kicker.  Ladonna either has low gravity, or unusually high metal content, what scientists referred to as high metallicity.  The lead astronomer who discovered LaDonna stated that:

CFBDSIR 2149-0403 is an atypical substellar object that is either a ‘free-floating planet’ or a rare high-metallicity brown dwarf. Or a combination of both.  [3]


So now that we have determined that she is metallic in nature, and a possible brown dwarf, that makes things much more interesting!

(to be continued)

[1]  Free-floating Planet CFBDSIR2149-0403

[2]  Young isolated planetary-mass object or high-metallicity low-mass brown dwarf??

[3]  Mysterious Object Investigated by Astronomers

Off the Charts!


***Edited as of noon March 12***

I waited 12 hours to check again, and it looks as if the crazy noise has subsided, and it looks as if, after six more hours of activity, it went back to the usual quiet, dreamy state.


I have a feeling it’s not localized, but rather systemic.  We are having a system-wide disturbance.  I will do some digging.

***Edited as of midnight March 11***

I was simply going to go to sleep, but I decided to check the SR again and it’s even more solidly white than my previous image.


If all this white activity keeps up, I think I might have to start figuring out how to monitor this thing better.  TB

Holy moley!

Schuman Rez is going nuts today, after about five days of relative calm.  Look at those white stripes going off the charts!  I mean…literally…OFF THE CHARTS!

Something just happened within the last few hours, and looks to be still happening, even as I type these words.  This image was taken about half an hour ago, from the Russian Space Observatory that monitors the Schumann Resonances, among other things.  [1]

The white stripe, going from top to bottom is almost solid white, and is still going on.


Whatever that is happening may not affect you directly at this point, but it is affecting the Earth, in a major way.

Just to recap, Schumann Resonances are not caused by anything occurring within the Earth’s honeycomb crust or its core.  It is purely the electrical activity in the atmosphere, particularly during times of intense lightning activity, and has nothing to do with other electromagnetic forces within the Earth.  It was a steady hum that kept on going, no matter what else was happening.

Schumann Resonances were so steady that the US maintained two sites, in the Chequamegon-Nicolet National Forest, Wisconsin and in the Escanaba River State Forest, Michigan, for military applications until they were dismantled, beginning in late September 2004, when it suddenly began fluctuating wildly.

onthewatersAs I discussed in one of my previous posts, Goddess of Frequency 5:  Force Field, the Schumann Resonances bounce around within the cavity between the surface of the Earth and the inner edge of the ionosphere, roughly 55 kilometers up from the surface.

The space between the Earth and the ionosphere is a fairly large area, so the resonance is quite low–usually around 7.83 Hz.  This is the frequency that is identified within the human brain as the alpha/theta state, a relaxed, dreamy state of mind that is neither asleep nor fully awake.

We rock to this rhythm when we’re half asleep, or if we are in meditative mode and allowing our brain to wander without focusing on anything.  This is why I knit when I get a spare moment.  It quiets my brain and allows for me to reach that inner sanctum where I don’t think about anything, thereby allowing my inner self the chance to tell me what I need to know.

But I digress.  From the graphs I’ve been looking at, we’re talking about a few days of dreamy Earth semi-consciousness, followed by a burst of beta activity within Earth’s resonance cavity that would last for a day or more.  Something is jolting Earth out of her dreamy, neutral idle state and bringing her mental state, into the 12-40 Hz zone.

In humans, this is the high frequency low amplitude brain waves called beta waves.  Conscious thought, logical, critical thinking, writing, reading, and socialization–these are all activities that reside within the beta waves of our brains, and since Earth is an intelligent conscious being, I am betting that this is her awake mode.

Yes, I am telling you that the woman is having conscious thoughts and thinking logically and rationally.  She is awake and aware.


Before you roll your eyes at me, I am going to state for the record that

  1. I am not your personal Schuman Rez Record Keeper, and
  2. I am not your personal alarm system.

You need to do the research for yourself, and then make up your own mind about the information.

If you believe that there’s nothing strange about it, then that’s fine.  There is nothing wrong with visualizing an  Earth environment of unchanging calmness.  I strive to do that every day of my life.  I surround myself with silence and the peace of knowing that I am in a safe environment.

If you think that something is really, REALLY OFF about this, then pray tell…share this with the rest of the class.

new Earth

(mic drop)

[1]  Russian Observatory System