Witches Brew

It’s official, I am unemployed. Work has been hell for the last couple weeks. Right now the inmates have taken control of the asylum and my former coworkers and I are on the outside, going “Well, good luck with that!” I had my panic attacks in February and my heartburn–I haven’t had such heartburn in eight years! But I know it was work-related.

Right now, I am looking at April as big adventure. I have a ton of books I want to sell on Amazon. I want to box up a lot of stuff for our Pagan Pride garage sale in May. I have been wanting to set up a permanent–or at least till I can’t afford rent–temple in the spare room. I want to get back to my writing which has been on hold for most of this decade. I want to shed all of the STUFF that has been accumulating in my apartment. I have a mammoth amount of laundry, and I want to work on my container garden in the back yard.

I want to sign up for warm water exercise at the Riverplex. Seriously.

The only glitch in my forward motion at this moment is the unexpected collision of my two identities. My family knows I am Pagan–and tries to ignore it–and my coworkers all knew and were tolerant. But I have one name and one email for my mundane life and another name and email for my “magical” life. And suddenly I have slippage… One employer wanted a writing sample? Yikes, I have nothing to show but a couple of posts from Witches Brew. What about extracurricular activities on my resume? Ewww! I am involved in CIPS and I am the co-coordinator for the Peoria Pagan Pride Day in September.

Back in the day, when I was often the first reader of resumes (for another company), I immediately set aside any cover letter that began “I am a good Christian Wo/Man.” 1) I worked with a bunch of lewd, crude, and crazy computer techs, and I was always alert for applicants who might want to sue us for sexual harassment. And 2) I believe that religion and work don’t mix well. If you want to have a picture of a bleeding Jesus in your cubical and I want to have picture of Hathor, my Cow Goddess in my cubical, that should be ok, but somehow the bleeding Jesus tends to–well, dominate–the work space allowed.

So here I am trying to get on with my two separate lives, and I don’t know if I can keep up with myselves.

About three weeks ago Shane White from Two25, a new restaurant at the Mark Twain Hotel in Peoria, sent out an invitation to area bloggers: enjoy a free dinner at Two25 in exchange for a review on our blogs. A dozen of us took him up on his offer last night, March 26th.

When I decided to follow up on the invitation, I sent the link to Witches Brew. I am a infrequent blogger with a Pagan perspective, and nobody reads my posts. I thought maybe that would be the end of it, but Shane sent a warm reply. I had checked out the menu online, and it looked pricey, so I fully expected that we would be given a choice between two or three entrees and maybe given a sample of the desserts, but when my coworker and I sat down, we were handed the same menu I had read online. Wow! Where to begin?

For an appetizer Jenn and I decided to split the Crab and Artichoke Au Gratin; warm, rich, and creamy, it was served with crispy little slices of toast. The first bite broke the crispy little piece of toast and sent dip down my black top–I am ,indeed, my mother’s daughter. Many years ago my father took a fancy to a movie with Walter Mathau and Elaine May, called A New Leaf; he was a fortune hunter on the make, she was an heiress collecting bugs in the rain forest. While trying to return her to her native High Society, he says, “Here! Let me check you for crumbs!” Dad loved that line, and always had to give Mom that last inspection before they went out.

Folks started sharing the appetizers. Against my will, I consented to take a taste of the last piece of breaded calamari. I’ve tasted squid–like chewing a rubberband–so I grimaced and dunked it in the marinara sauce. Actually the calamari was tender with a delicate flavor which was almost lost under the sauce. Next time I won’ be a baby (but I am not trying the escargot…).

A delicious spinach salad with bacon, hard boiled egg, red onion, and a vinaigrette dressing soon followed the dip down my top. I love spinach, I am already jonesing for another salad, but next time I will ask for the vinaigrette on the side.

It was hard deciding on the entree. I was sorely tempted by the rack of lamb and by the pressed duck breast. Octopus and snails aside, I like to try different things when I am out for dinner. However, since I am about to become an unemployment statistic, I knew it was going to be a long time before I saw another premium steak. My filet mingon was a bit of heaven, medium well done, but still succulent! Our server recommended the 30 layer potato gratin, and it was tasty. I brought the last bit of steak and potatoes to work this morning for breakfast, and it was the best part of the day!

And let me say that all of the staff were impressively proud and knowledgeable about the menu. Our server Sam was attentive but not intrusive, and timing of the courses was very smooth. (And I see that several reviewers have noted that he is extremely cute. C’est vrai! )

For dessert Jenn ordered the taffy apple pie with nuts and I ordered the chocolate peanut butter pie; then we split them. The peanut butter pie was good, but I perferred the apple pie which was warmed with a caramel taste that was not overwhelmingly sweet.

The only disappointment was the iced tea. Jenn said her raspberry tea was delicious but mine–a regular tea–tasted like the water had been run through the coffee filter. James, Problems are for Solving, gave enthusiastic praise to the Ridge vineyard Geyserville (2006 vintage) Zinfandel. It was a lovely red, a little dry, but very pleasant on the tongue. Just one glass gave me a (small) headache, though, and I was still feeling a little “gritty” when the alarm went off at six this morning. Note to self: save the red wine for the weekend. I was sorry I didn’t try the Booker’s bourbon.

So, a great big thank you to Shane and to Bob Eid, one of the partners at Two25, for their hospitality. Bob Eid is one of the owners of One World. –Before I forget, there are a number of striking paintings by local artist Vin at One World, but my new favorites are at Two25! And a thank you to James and all the other articulate bloggers who came out for the dinner. The conversation was rich as the dinner. I will certainly recommend Two25 for anyone who wants an exceptional meal in a comfortable envirnoment.

In two weeks I am going to be an unemployment statistic. Aside from the usual worries about buying groceries, paying rent, and keeping up with my bills, I am experiencing religious angst. The Bible says “it is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter the Kingdom of Heaven,” but Prosperity Christianity holds out the promise that if you believe, God will set you up in middle class comfort.

Last time I was out of work, I was jobless for eighteen months. I know better, but I can’t help the feeling that my Goddess is letting me down. I feel like “this is what comes of worshipping false idols…” even when my Hathor is the mother of the Golden Calf. I have this nagging feeling that a “real God” would get me a real job pronto at a better salary, and while I’m writing out my “job wanted” requirements, let’s add a job in the heart of Peoria. I am sick and tired of spending an hour on the bus every morning and an hour every evening, riding out to the edge of the urban sprawl.

And then my gut twists in the other direction. Pagans don’t go around begging Deities for favors. Christians have the poem “Footprints” for inspiration; Pagans have

Butt Prints in the Sand.

One night I had a wondrous dream,
One set of footprints there was seen,
The footprints of the Goddess they were,
But mine were not along the shore.

But then some stranger prints appeared,
And I asked Her, “What have we here?
These prints are large and round and neat,
But much too big to be from feet.”

“My child,” She said in somber tones,
“For miles I carried you alone.
I challenged you to walk in faith,
But you refused and made me wait.”

“You would not learn, you would not grow,
The walk of faith, you would not know,
So I got tired, I got fed up,
And there I dropped you on your butt.

“Because in life, there comes a time
When one must fight, and one must climb,
When one must rise and take a stand,
Or leave their butt prints in the sand.”

I’m a Witch; I should be able to spell my way to a great job. I just need to get off my butt.

Well, this is the beginning of a spiritual journey that I don’t want to undertake. I expect I will be tested. I mean to measure up. So mote it be!