Large Announcement: Yesterday My Life Began: Day One!

Whoa and Wow! I can hardly type this because my arms are quaking and my body is moving, squirming around like that breakdance The Centipede. I am alive with an electric white-hot sugar beam, swirling over and around me as I fully contemplate all manner of existing and what it truly means to be Taffy "Sunburst" McKittrick!

Okay. Deep breath. I don't want to get all rambly on you. Therefore, I will center my thoughts and excrete a calm and cogent stream of data toward you, as I instruct myself to do, and I will tell you all about yesterday, which was Day One of the rest of my life! It was my first full session with Dr. Albert Tubman.

Here is how the day went down:

I woke early from a thick sleep that had me dreaming about living in a castle made of stone, with torches and knights and what have you. The sun bled thru the blinds and I was half-asleep as I walked from the futon toward the kitchen and so I picked up my guitar. Yes, it was early, not quite 7am but I remembered that a big key being a recepient of Life-Coaching is to recognize the urges that compel you. (Keep in mind I am an artist so it's a one-two punch). The guitar was speaking to me so I picked it up and began strumming a loud and sturdy strumming shuffle in the key of E7with a walk-up to G#m and then over to Bb#7diminished, all the while my foot counter-tapping in syncopated bursts. And then the lyrics: they fell out of my mouth like so many baby birds: Livin' in a Castle made of Stone/With Torches and Knights and What have you...and so on. It was like I was another person, like the dream Taffy was controlling the awake Taffy like a marionette. Before I knew it I was shrieking out more lyrics at the top of my lungs: Dead in the Castle/Sorry for the hassle! over and over, until it became sort of a meta-self-referencing thing and before I knew it my neighbor in the next apartment was banging on the wall (keeping perfect time with my syncopated foot)!! Such is the power of unguarded art!!!!

Whew. Okay:

I bathed and dressed and drove to the Lakeshore Mall. I was to meet Dr. Tubman in the Food Court. I sat for an hour or so and there was no sign of him. Plenty of commerce-minded people were shopping and carrying bags and eating sausage biscuits and whatnot but no Dr. Tubman. Just as I was getting nervous and thinking that perhaps I had my days mixed up, he arrived. He was wearing a backwards baseball cap and a leather jacket and a pair of denim shorts that went to his knees. I don't know a lot about fashion but I don't think many people could pull that look off. Dr. Tubman did. He had a suave nature about him, gliding across the food court, like a gazelle. He approached the table and snapped his fingers:
"Waiting long?"
"An hour"
"Good, I was afraid it was much longer. It's been one of those days already and it ain't 9:30" he said.
I began cackling out of empathy but he shot me a look that urged me to cease this line of laughter.
"Shall we begin" he asked.
"Yes" I said.
He sat down and looked at me. It was quiet for a moment and I thought he was doing some jedi-life-coach staring thing so I didn't say anything. Another moment passed and then he said:
"You know, a venti latte would be frigging killer right now".
I went and got it for him and sat back down. He was calling the shots so I watched as he blew on his drink and sipped it. More time passed and then he looked right in my face and uttered:
"Taffy" he began "Tell me about your fears"

Well, as you can imagine, this is like getting punched in the gut with a sledgehammer and a jackhammer all at once. I think my reticence was glistening on my face because Dr. Tubman looked at me and said: "This isn't going to work if you don't go to the dark places Taffy".
A whole minute passed. I swallowed. I couldn't meet his eye! Finally I moaned:
"I'm afraid of the dark" I said.
"Good" he said. "That's real good to hear. Let me ask you a question. You're an artist, right?"
"Yes"
"Just like Jim Morrison?" he said, referring to the singer from the 80s band The Doors.
"Yes"
"What'd Jim Morrison think of the dark? Did he run away from it like a little girl?"
I thought about it. "I guess not"
"Did he prance away like Little Lord Fauntleroy? Did he put ribbons in his hair and wear a dress like a little girl at a tea party"
I thought some more "I don't think so"
"No dipshit, he didn't. What did he do?"
"I don't know"
"I'll give you a hint: He sang about it".
There was an awkard moment here because it appeared that what Dr. Tubman said was the whole of what he wanted to say, not a hint. I wasn't sure what to say, if anything. So I reapeated his last words, as if they were a question "He sang about it".
Dr. Tubman broke into a fancy grin here, from cheek to cheek.
"Pardon my french" he said "But you're starting to get the hang of this shit Taffy"