The Marvelous Madam Moira

Name: Moira Anne Richardson
Age: 25 and counting
Location: Greensburg, PA
D.O.B.: December 21, 1978 (send presents!)
Gender: Female
Major: Creative Writing*
Number of Colleges Attended: 5. Yes. 5.
Colleges Attended:

Youngstown State University '97 - '98
Westmoreland County Community College '98 - '04 (off & on)
Art Institute of Pittsburgh '99 or '00 (for three days)
University of Pittsburgh '00 (1 semester)
Seton Hill University '04 (currently attending)

Virtues: A Wicked Sense of Humor, Mellow-osity, The Amazing Ability to Make Up Words, Silly Attacks, the Gift of Words, Crafty Skillz, Perceptive & Psychic Abilities

Vices: I am a Dart Shark (challenge me?), Obsessive Napper, Mean Streaks, Messy!

Hobbies: Internet, Writing, Naps, Ebay, Mix Cds, Reading, Dreaming, Dream Interpretation, Drawing Comics, Schemin', Movies, Hiking (like I ever have time!), Star-gazing, & Roadtrips.

3 interesting facts:

1 - I have written 2 books: One called "The Evolution of Dreams: Explorations In Human Consciousness" which you can find at the WCCC library & another called "Mr. Right is Dead" which I finished this summer & is currently in the editing stages. I have 4 or 5 novels in progress at any given time. I'm about to start another one about ghost stories in Greensburg. I've written at least 25 short stories and countless poems. One day I'll get all that stuff published. Today is not that day.

2 - I was born in England. I don't have the cool accent, blokes, because I've been living in the states since I was four. My younger sister Fiona was also born in England. My younger brother Robert was born in America and is the only American citizen in my entire extended family. Pretty wild, eh? My sister is moving to England next month (October 4th). I'll be following her next summer for a three-month-long writing experiment. (on my part, not hers).

3 - I have owned several businesses. The first was in 2001 making scented bath salts and other products and selling them online and to friends. That business is now defunct because the mixing of scents was making me ill! The second is still in existence called Hempwhere^TM. A friend and I made designer hemp necklaces about two summer ago. We travelled to different locations to sell them. Heck, you might even own an original: A store that used to be in Greensburg called Kharisma sold our wares for a while. If you ever see me wearing a hemp necklace, I made it. My latest business venture is Bitchin' Bargains. I scour for bargains on clothes and miscellaneous accessories and sell them online.

* (( Yes. I am currently paying $10,315 a semester in order to get a degree in Creative Writing that will qualify me to do.. um... absolutely nothing. Please don't remind me.))

M to the O to the I-R-A

Who am I? I am Moira. ;c)

Did you know that the name Moira is the name of the Greek goddess of fate?

It's wild because I have always been fascinated with the spinners of fate, the triple goddess, one spins the thread, one measures, one cuts the thread and ends the life. I have always found the idea of these to be completely fascinating and really cool and now I find that the Greek name for the goddesses of fate is Moirae, or in singular form, Moira. Kickass!

When I was but a wee girl, my online identity was always goddessmoira (do a search, you'll still find shit). Now I know that somehow I knew I was a goddess without really knowing it.

This is supercool:

The Moirae, also known as the Fates

"O Fates of Life, I ask your aid.
To clear my path and set me free." (Prayer to the Fates)

The Greek Goddess of Fate is a daughter of Nyx, Goddess of the Night. In Her singular form, the Goddess of Fate is called Moira¹; and in Her triple form She becomes three sisters known as the Moirae. The Moirae are: Klotho the Spinner, who spins the thread of a person's life; Lachesis the Measurer, who decides how much time is to be allowed each person, and Atropos the Cutter, who cuts the thread when you are supposed to die.

The name 'Moira' actually means 'part' and in fact, the triple form of the Fates mimics the triple moon phases and the three phases of life - maiden, mother and crone. Moira is known to the Romans as Fortuna, to the Scandinavians as Norns, to the Anglo-Saxons as Wyrd, and to the Celts as Morrigan. During the middle ages, the Fates became known as the Parcae.

As the spinner of Fate, Moira spins out the days of our lives as yarn and weaves it into a tapestry. The length of the yarn - hence your life span - is decided solely by the Goddess of Fate. All the Gods are subject to the whims of the Fates as are mortal man. Because of this, even though the other Gods are almighty, and supposedly immortal, even Hera has reason to fear Moira².

Moira's function is to see that the natural order of things is respected and She possesses the gift of prophecy - Her priests and priestesses are always oracles or soothsayers (seers of the future)³. Moira is often accompanied by the Keres (Dogs of Hades), who are three beings with sharp teeth and who are robed in red. In ancient times, the Fates were honored by sacrifices of honey and flowers⁴.

Moira is associated with December's full moon⁵ - which is often called the Cold Moon or the Wolf Moon. The colors of Moira are red, black and white.⁶

(it's from Tarot Cat, which is now defunct.)

NOTES:

1 Kickass!
2 See that? That's power. I hold the gods by the balls.
3 This Moira too.
4 Flowers are always appreciated, and so, for that matter, is honey.
5 My birthday is December 21, the winter equinox, fitting, eh?
6 Those were my high school colors. Go Scotties! Er... Strangely enough, the colors of my first college were also red and black and it seems as if the colors for SHU are the same. Weird.

(anything that uses my name, lets me read about me in third person is superfly, yo)

I am a Poet with a capital P

I am also a poet. See?

Dreamy-eyed Waitress

The dreamy-eyed waitress stumbles and falls
Sending the contents of a basket of crunchy goodness
Flying in a slow arc over the bright restaurant.
She just smiles a secret smile,
Brushes the crumbs out of her satin hair,
And sweeps the chips from the floor without a word.

She stares out the window into the bright blue temptation
And her laughter bubbles over like pink champagne
As her hip brushes against the shoulder
Of a man with blue eyes and laugh lines
Creased into his leathered skin.
"Sorry, hun," she says
her exuberance for life an irresistible tonic
& he laughs with her, the smile lighting his eyes a flame.

She forgets the drinks for three different tables,
But her flashing smile smoothes ill feelings
As she laughs and say she doesn't know where her mind has gone.
(I know where it is)

… and when the ravenous vultures devour
enough food to feed three starving children
in less than a minute,
she doesn't mind,
she doesn't mind.

… and when the couple at her next table
stumble over their order, questioning everything
since they're in no hurry,
they've been around for a century,
she doesn't mind,
she doesn't hurry

For the iniquities of the world cannot touch our waitress,
For while her body is here in this Mexican restaurant,
Her mind is a million miles away,
Dancing with visions of coffee beans & silver Hershey's kisses.
Her memories are lost in the feel of hot sand
crunching drily between her toes,
and the roar of the ocean fills her ears.

Born to Write

I was born to write.

Here are a few journal entries from my tumultous youth:

January 3, 1989
Dear Journal,
Today was o.k. I almost fell asleep in class. I am going to try to write a book. I can't think of a title, though. Oh, here is my new year's res: I will lose weight and let my nails grow.
Love,
Moira

even as a kid, i was a writer

January 10, 1990
Dear Journal,
Nothing exciting hapened yesterday so I didn't write. I am making a valentine for Derek and Brad. Brad hasn't written for a while and I don't know if he likes me anymore. What should I do???
Love,
Moira

nothing ever happened with either of those boys. derek is now married and brad fled the country for venezuala in early 1993. he is now a colombian drug lord.

January 18, 1990
Journal,
I will send a special valentine to someone but I'll just call him or her x-person. I will never ever tell Melanie anything again. Tomorrow I'll tell you why.
When I have a kid, I won't make her stop practises.

January 19, 1990
You know why? Melanie told the whole western hemisphere who I liked! Grr.
Love,
Moira

Melanie W. once got bitten by a dog and wore an arm brace for a whole year. Rachel G. stepped on my head at a slumber party at Melanie's house. Melanie was dating a male vampire last time I saw her in LA. Melanie is now a lesbian of the finest order.

February 2, 1990
Dear Journal,
I haven't written for a long time cause I sprained my arm.
Love,
Moira

my arm healed nicely

February 6, 1990
Yo Journal,
I watched the Hangin' Tuff Concert. It was awesomely cool. I like Jordan Nathaniel Marcel Knight and Donald E. Walburg the best. Joseph Mulrey McIntyre and Jonathan Knight are cool, too. Daniel Woods is o.k. Melanie W. is a totally rejected jerk and idiot.
Moira

Even as a child, I was the biggest dork in the world

January 16, 1992
Grr!!! I'm mad today! Joey Rice is such a jerk! He slammed my locker shut, so I shut his. He punched me in the head. He's such an idiot! I'm invited to a party on Saturday and I really don't know if I want to go. I won't know anyone there except for Christina, and I will be really tired. Sometimes I'm so stupid. I get invited to parties but don't want to go. Know why? Because whenever I meet new poeple they more than likely don't like me. Maybe I'll get sick. I hope so.

Joey Rice dropped out of high school in later years. Before that happened, I kicked his English book down the hall, never to be seen by him again. Christina turned into a girl with lots of blue eyeshadow. I think she's a beautician somewhere out there. I still don't like parties.

August 17, 1992
Band camp started today. It was kind of fun. I shared my lunch with April. Forgetful forgot hers. Mr. B. still hasn't finished my flute. I hope he finishes it soon. I need it to play my music. Duh. Well I gotta go.
Luv,
Moira

April is still forgetful and she is still my best friend (wonders never cease!) Mr. D. became "involved" with a student when I was a junior in high school and I'm pretty sure he's not allowed to teach kids anymore.

November 8, 1992
I luv Derek! I couldn't stop my hand from writing that. I can't write for long. I luv, luv, love, amore, luv, love, adore Derek Reed Najewicz.
Later,
Moira

Derek, if you ever read this: I'm over it. Honest.

December 31, 1993
Wow! Another year over! Time seems to fly so quickly without us realizing it. It seems just yesterday I was an eight grader and best friends with Corinne and in love with Derek. No more my friend! I'm a fifteen year old freshman, have no "best" friends and I don't really like any guys in a boyfriend way. I think I've changed too.

In eighth grade (merely a year ago) I was very immature, wearing a binkie necklace, weird clothes and making a complete ass out of myself. ... I know I've written and probably will write horror stores but I'm not gonna kill anyone. That's stupid and the poeple I write about doesn't nessesarily mean I hate them...

Except I did. And I'm still immature.