Uh...this is embarassing. I just got back from the laundromat. And all my togas are f***ing pink.
I wrote a whole entry there about how things were picking up for me and I had decided to start doing stand up when I move to New York. I figured, hey, I've been alive for darned near forever, so I've got a lot of stories. I had this great bit about how Roman gods and Greek gods act differently when they drink too much. Greek gods are all like: "Somebody should do something about all the hubris" and the Roman gods are all like...well I won't get into it here. You've heard a million variations on it, I know.
But anyway, the point is, this is it. This is the last god-damn straw. I am moving to New York tomorrow. I effectively have no clothes except the sandals on my feet and the robe on my back, so I don't even have to pack. I'm going to wire a bunch of money out to myself (do people still do that?) and just...move...to New York. Now that I type it out it feels so real!
Now before you begin blogging about how old Zeus has finally gone bonkers, let me explain. I'm not moving to America because my togas are pink. I always wanted to do it, as evidenced by my planned blog entry. But there was always like one more thing to do in Greece, you know? Like, I've got to play with the fortunes of the one pagan family in Macedonia or mess around with the entrails of animals in case anyone opens them up for a fortune.
Do you have any idea how hard divination is? For me? Can you imagine looking at a field of sheep and trying to guess "oh, those three sheep look like the ones I'd pick to sacrifice" and giving the most-likely sheep all bumpy livers? It's really just a two-way street of guesswork, which is why I've been embedding the message "stop doing this" in all the sheep. But people keep reading it as "hail tonight." On the upside, Greece's sheep are well protected from hail, but still. Well, being a god does have its responsibilities.
The good news is, I've found a satyr to do the sheep thing while I'm away. I'm surprised he still lives around here, but he said he moved to Thailand for a while (probably a perv, no offense) and just got homesick. And, there's a few neo-paganists hanging out in NYC, so I'll be able to keep my job as a god over there. I'm a little nervous because I don't really know what they expect me to do, what with all their crystals and whatnot, but I've been doing this for long enough I should be able to wing it. Pagans never really change, they just pick different random things to imbue with mystical properties. Who knows, maybe one of the lady pagans will be into the whole me-as-an-animal-having-sex-with-her thing. Anything can happen in New York, they say.
But like I said, the most important thing for me in New York is going to be my stand-up career. How will I get started? I have no idea, this is so new to me. I haven't been this confused since my daughter Aphrodite sprung fully-grown from my forehead. That was weird! And somehow, Hera was mad at me about it. I was like, 'If I could have had you birth the child from your womb as opposed to my forehead, I would have." But she thought I was stealing her thunder, as always. (Stealing her thunder! I didn't even realize I was making that pun. I have to use that. The Fates are smiling on me! Fates, if you're reading this, smile on me.) Maybe I'll write a routine about that. Everyone loves stand-up about being a parent. Anyway, I have to go on travelocity and do this thing. See you in the Big Apple!
by Johnny McNulty