The first thing that happened since that last real entry is that I ended my relationship with Molasses. "If you're not in love with her, you're not in love with her, and nothing's going to change that." So said a wise friend shortly after it happened.

For a long time leading up to this, I cast my strong intentions out into the quantum foam of wave-state probability and doomed German-owned cats for an amicable end to this relationship in a way that improves both our lives. Before I scored the new job I mentioned in my last post from '05, I broadcasted my intentions to the Universe in High Definition 5.1 Surround Brain for a dream job doing something I enjoy doing for a company I can enjoy working for which fits in with my lifestyle and work style. A week after this broadcast began, I got the fateful phone call from a once-former coworker asking me about a client of her employer's at which I've now been working with her ever since.

I intended for a dream apartment with exposed brick and wood beams, just like I dreamed about before I moved in with Molasses in the first place, and that's exactly the place I moved into with my friend the Mountain Hippie.

One night I was working late and a coworker found an embarassingly out-of-date online dating profile of mine. It was so awful, I had to update it right away. I copped out on the description of myself, preferring instead to focus my attention (and conscious intention) on the What I'm Looking For In Another Person section, and I wrote:

"An intelligent conversationalist who is trying to make the world a better place somehow. Someone who is genuinely real with people all the time. An outspoken truth-seeker. A well-grounded soul who derives a primal joy from sushi, bonfires, the sound of the ocean, and being generous to strangers. A cute geek girl who hates Windows, knows how to pronounce "Linux" and isn't afraid of a Mac."

I submitted this change to my dating profile and went home. After I got there, I changed my clothes and went right back out again for a scotch as I have been known to drink on occasion, and ended up walking around the Old Port (daytime translation: "cutesy historical shopping district" / nighttime translation: "super-concentrated multi-block, multivariate bands-booze-and-pickup scene") looking for people I knew. Wandering past the Goddamn Dirty Hippie Bar (sadly, now closed due to a noise ordinance pushed into law by a local politician who happens to own a hotel across the street), I spot a casual friend and local Green-party luminary chatting up some ladies on the sidewalk in front of the place. He appeared busy and I didn't want to interfere, so I went around to the alley behind the place looking for any small circles of people passing things around clockwise and, finding none, returned to harass my friend in front of whoever he was talking to.

It was then that this adorable brunette caught my eye. She was clinging to a parking meter, obviously drunk. But cute drunk, not sloppy, vomit-encrusted, put-on-your-game-face drunk. I made a bold move, and started rubbing the small of her back while I talked to her. She responded very favorably, and soon we were alternating between talking and kissing, whereupon I discovered that she was studying computer science, and was currently taking Linux admin courses. She even pronounced it right, like Linus does. Schwing!

As we continue talking, I rapidly discover that she is really truly indeed everything I had just described wanting, including things I had thought to put in there but decided not to for fear of sounding too picky and scaring off some nice girl from responding, things such as having an interest in motorcycles for instance, which I was already getting into thanks to my Shovelhead-obsessed brotha-from-anotha-mutha BB who had been after me for a year already to hurry up and register for a Motorcycle Safety Foundation 2-day course (they fill up fast) and thus getting my endorsement by the time he gets back from Harley school in Phoenix so we can start riding together. I was beside-myself thrilled to find a super-cute geek girl who rides. What are the odds, outside of Georgia?

She was everything I had asked the Universe for only a few short hours previous. I placed a tall order with the Universe and it delivered exactly what I requested with same-day service. This was the most striking moment of my ongoing practice of conscious intention, a culmination of several startlingly-precise outcomes which occurred with increasing frequency, usually within months or weeks of my beginning to will them through intent, then this event shoots right off the charts of synchronous meaning. Foooosssh! Crazytown! Utterly staggering beyond belief.

I mean, there she was in person. Exactly who I wanted. Perhaps a bit sooner than I had wanted, as I was just beginning my lusty summer of casual depravity living literally right on top of the expansive local bar scene, so close it would keep me up at night were it not for the 1 AM liquor law, so close I had to shut the window to keep from smelling it, and I was already anticipating the eventual return of a certain charming island restaurant employee who would not be returning to the mainland until the end of the summer to perhaps further pursue a little fling we had barely set alight before she got on the boat which had left us admitting to liking each other quite a bit. Yeah, she was a sweet girl. But she couldn't hold a candle to this great gift I had just been given.

Over fifteen months later, I'm delighted to find I'm enamored, enraptured, entranced. Honored, honest, humbled, hopeful. Frequently flayed open like a fish with her careful but effortless swath to reveal the real deal. She's unprecedented, and I'm in awe.

She's my Stacky, my LittleStar, my ana, my Laurea, my LFT. You may already know her as Lady Jane.