The Jobless Goddess

   So I picked out my funeral music years ago. It features Steppenwolf in the forefront. I'm pretty sure I can think of some Syracuse priests who would bend a couple of rules and blast some Magic Carpet Ride for me. Believe me, they've done worse. That's why I love them. Anywho, I do spend more than a little time thinking about how I'd like my "after party" to play out. I'm nothing if not morbid. These things are important to me.    First of all, I want a kegger. Absofuckinglutely. And I want there to be all manner of food just like I like it. Huge portions, bottomless red plastic cups. You get the picture. The music is key and must include Steppenwolf, a fantastic Motown medley, Mony Mony, maybe a Monkees song, a little Led Zeppelin and definitely some Levon Helm. And if there's time left and people are feeling sappy, a couple of Van Morrison songs. I'm thinking as I write this that I want to go to this party. Jeez.    And you know I'll be t

   I'm experiencing a bit of a dilemma. I am no longer jobless. I am still, however, a bit of a goddess — although of the Rubenesque variety.    This leads me to pondering a new name for the blog, and because I am now employed, my brain is all cramped up and I cannot begin to decide on a new title.    I am openly soliciting suggestions. I have been told that the word "goddess" is a little intimidating. Far be it from me to project a strong personality. Whatever.    These days my brain is freeze-dried at the end of the day. Makes me wonder what the hell I was doing for 16 years at my previous job. That place was a cake walk compared to my new situation.    At the Catholic paper, on Fridays when we had to finish the layout, correct and produce the paper, I'd throw my Steppenwolf CD on and do a little dancing on the old magic carpet. Here, after we finish the paper, I have to run home and soak my feet.    I can't figure out whether this job is more challenging o