October 21st, 2010
|04:41 pm - Taking A Chance|
So yeah, he divorced me (on Tuesday). And yeah, I've never been more hurt in my life. But no, he did not set out to hurt me. That was not his end goal. His goal was to do what he felt was right for him at this time. I'm not going to be a bitch about it. I'm not going to try and hurt him back or get revenge or any stupid shit like that. I choose to be mature about this, because I really do love him and I really do want him back, more than anything in the world. I feel that with work and time, I can become the person I need to be, the person he also needed me to be. I have now had the shock I needed to get me to get off my ass and actually try. The exact reason he did not want to try a separation: he knew I wouldn't take it seriously. I agree. This I started taking seriously immediately.
So I will be focusing on myself for now. For me. But also for us, because I believe I can do both. Do not tell me that is ridiculous or to just move on or this is the end forever. I've heard it all, and I don't want or need to hear it again. As I told him, a divorce is legally the end, but we are still people who can still do whatever we want, and there is still a future that we can fix. I just want another chance with him, and I hope that when he has had the space he needs, he will be willing to let me try.
Ironically, the day after I arrived in Jacksonville, one of those temp agencies I'd applied to in Tampa called me and I had to tell them no. The next day, I finally got a call from this absolutely perfect sounding desk job I'd called and emailed about several times a few weeks ago. They're still available if I want to give them another call. I haven't called back yet to tell them no.
For me: I will be looking for another job. I will finish that one last class I need to get my bachelors. I finally actually feel like doing these things. I will take the counselor's advice and make a list of my personal accomplishments. I will start focusing on the positive and not the negative. I will stop worrying about petty crap that I don't need to be upset about. Those are my plans for now. It might take a while, but I will be working on them, and I think I can do it.
October 7th, 2010
|06:39 pm - Waiting|
I was talking to my sister last night. She told me, "So there's this girl on America's Next Top Model who reminds me of you."
"Why is that?" I said.
"Well, she's the best one on there," my sister said.
I just thought that was so sweet.
Got to see an old friend (Janet) the other night whom I had not seen in person in probably about six years. She lives in Virginia now but was down visiting relatives (who had the most gorgeous house I've seen in a long time). I didn't even get lost on the 20-minute drive there--only had to call Alan out of uncertainty once--and on the way back, only had to make one U-turn! We watched IronMan 2 and ate Oreos and pizza. And we had the best sangria ever! Yummy!
I went to the grocery store the other day to check on my application. I spoke to a customer service person who said they had one deli job available and to call and speak to the manager at 6:30. I did so and was informed that I had been given incorrect information and they have no jobs available anywhere.
Oh, but while applying to various temp agencies online yesterday, a friend called and told me they might have a housecleaning/babysitting job available for me. Part-time and minimum wage, but hey. Well, actually, no, I can't complain about that one. I'd get a house to myself (except for possibly some kids). No customers! Have to see if it pans out.
I just noticed that all of the above has been positive, and yet I currently have this horrible clenched feeling in my stomach. Not even sure what I'm worried about at the moment. Probably the possible new job. I'm sure there's some way I can screw it up.
I don't even really feel like writing this right now. I'll just write the dreams and be done with it.
( Had some really strange ones last night.Collapse )
Speaking of Alan, I really thought he got out of class/work at 12 today, so I was sitting patiently awaiting his call for me to come and pick him up. At 2 I finally called him instead, and he informed me that he doesn't get out until at least 9. I seriously never know what his schedule is. Man, I could tell you most of our roommates' schedules better than his.
Current Mood: anxious
Current Music: commercials
October 1st, 2010
|04:07 pm - New Words|
Feeling depressed, I called my mom to hear something uplifting.
"I feel like I'm going to be working a minimum-wage job for the rest of my life," I said.
"Well, I'm working a minimum-wage job," she replied.
Not feeling any better.
Seriously though, just considering I ever actually do find a job, which I am no longer allowed to search for online, how am I supposed to get one that isn't minimum-wage? If all I can do is walk in every door and ask for an application, then there isn't anything else. Where the hell else am I supposed to find a fucking job!? It doesn't even have to be a "career," whatever the fuck that means, just something that at least pays in the double digits.
So I found this online ad for an office assistant last week and sent them my resume that day (Wednesday) by e-mail. No response. So I called on Friday and left them my name and number. They said that "he" would call me back by the end of the day. When I had received no response by the end of the day, I called right at closing and left my name again. They said I'd get a call first thing in the morning either on Saturday or Monday.
I called mid-day on Monday, after no response, and started to leave my name and number again, and the girl I was speaking to said, "Oh yeah, I took a message for you on Friday. He'll call you by the end of the day."
After still no call on Thursday, I sent another e-mail. I said I was just checking that they had received my resume and that I was very interested in the position. I left my number again and said that they could reach me either by phone or e-mail. I also asked a couple of questions about the company.
It's now 4:00 on Friday and I still haven't gotten a call or an e-mail. So...I guess grocery store cashier it is. I'll go by on Monday to make sure the grocery got my application.
Current Mood: gloomy
Current Music: my own fucking sobs
September 22nd, 2010
|12:31 pm - Nothing New|
Well, guess I no longer need to worry about the bank job. They sent me an email telling me, essentially, that the personality quiz they had me fill out indicated that I did not have what it takes to do that job at this time. I thought, well, that's okay, I can just try again at one of the other locations on that list of nearby places they gave me...but then I saw the next paragraph, where they informed me that I am welcome to try again six months from the date that I took the personality quiz. So, yeah, fuck that bank. Wow, I've now been looking for steady employment for about a year and a half. Fun.
The five of us (the roommates) went to a Chinese buffet for dinner last night and realized it was the first time all five of us had been out to dinner together ever (while sober). We had a nice time, though Alan is turning into one of those people who never stops playing with his phone (even while in public).
I have claw marks on my chest. Have I mentioned how much I don't like cats? Funny how having a whole bunch of them all in one place can do that to you. And by the way, disliking cats does not make me a dog person. You don't have to be one or the other. You can like both, you can like neither. I don't understand why people think you have to choose. I grew up with both for years, and I loved all of them and they got along just fine.
I'm sleepy. And I went to bed earlier than usual last night. And I got a full eight hours' sleep.
There's nothing really new. I have to go do job searches and call doctors and stuff.
Current Mood: apathetic
Current Music: "My Little Town" - Simon and Garfunkel
September 16th, 2010
|08:59 pm - Here's What's New|
I've got an hour and 20 minutes before I need to pick up my husband, and I haven't written in here since...*checks*...last month, so I decided I should get on that. I remember at one point I was supposed to start making regular entries again; I don't know what happened to that. And I actually enjoy this, too, so I really don't understand why I can't keep at it anymore!
So, what's new? Not really much of anything. I applied to a bunch of teller positions (the only thing available) at a bank, and in the survey they informed me that, during the interview process, they would ask me to provide them with several examples of my ability to achieve goals. I clicked 'yes' because it seemed stupid to click 'no', but when I thought about it I realized I couldn't come up with a single goal I've ever even had, let alone achieved. I'm going to have to write several incredible fictions in case they call me.
I am of course currently experiencing the anxiety and subsequent depression that comes with applying for any sort of job. How will I manage my first full-time job ever? I wonder. How will I make it as a teller when I already know, from past cashier experience, that I completely fail at trying to count money under pressure? What happens when I have aphasic seizures in front of customers while handling their money? That won't be so easy to hide when they're speaking to me and I'm handling their money. What if they want me to work overtime or nights or weekends? Fuck them; I don't want to! Among other worries. And don't say I should have just not applied as a teller. I have to apply to anything and everything that involves a paycheck, just for the hell of it. I guess I shouldn't really worry about what happens after the interview; I've never succeeded at one of those before.
Living with five cats is just as irritating as it was three months ago. Here's pretty much how I summed it up in a letter to my aunt and uncle: There's Artemis, who just doesn't know what a litter box is. Simon, the oldest (and fattest) seems sweet sometimes, but really is completely unpredictable and will bite or claw anyone at any time. Oscar will do that too, but mostly he just wants to be left alone. The Kitten, who is really not a kitten any longer, is just plain evil, and Loki, the fluffy one, would never harm anyone, but unfortunately does not understand that fire = burns.
A week or so ago, when everyone but Ski had been asleep for a few hours, the power mysteriously went out. All of us woke up briefly and realized that this had happened when our fans stopped working, and we all woke up again shortly thereafter when the smoke alarm went off. No one was really awake enough to care, however, except Ski, who had been reading by candlelight during the power outage.
Suddenly, probably in hopes of escaping The Kitten, Loki attempted to fly over the coffee table and the tiny candle, setting himself aflame and the smoke alarm a-beep. Ski did manage to save him, despite some scorched fur on his stomach, and all of us had a hearty laugh in the morning.
As I can no longer legally receive prescription refills from a doctor I never see, I must, before the end of the month, locate a neurologist in Tampa who is affordable to two people with (almost) no money and no insurance. Otherwise I will no longer be paying for an expensive medicine that barely works. If this happens, it is likely that my seizures will return to an average of four a month, rather than an average of three. So I've located a few possibilities, to be further researched very soon. A couple actually list among their interests/specialties epilepsy and sleep disorders, so that could be on the helpful side. We'll see what happens.
Last night roommate Heather, who, as a scientist, works in the on-campus lab doing many tests and experiments, learned that the experiment she had been working on for about 80 days had finally succeeded. When she announced this to the household, Alan said excitedly, "Was it zombies? It was zombies, wasn't it?"
"No," she said, "it wasn't zombies."
"Robots?" I said.
"It wasn't robots."
"So what was it, then?" Alan wanted to know.
She told us what it was. It was a very detailed list of words I had forgotten before they were out of her mouth that I assume might have been chemicals, but it's hard to say.
A silence fell among the entire living room. And then--"YEAH! All right!!" I said. *fist pumps*
We're going to the pub to celebrate her achievement tonight.
There's really not a lot more news, except the usual list of dreams, but I'll save that so that hopefully I can get off my ass (or rather, on it) and write them out tomorrow.
Current Mood: stressed
Current Music: "Never Gonna Happen" - Lily Allen
August 24th, 2010
|08:59 pm - Being An Adult|
Situation A: Imagine it is the night before your first (very important) class of the semester. You're very anxious/excited about it because it is a requirement and just sounds cool anyway. You carefully set your alarm and go to bed.
That night there is a terrible thunderstorm. It doesn't wake you up, but it shuts off your power for an hour an a half. When the power comes back on, your alarm clock has reset itself, leaving your alarm useless.
When you finally do wake up, and find that the class is halfway over, you instantly write an email to the teacher explaining the situation. Later you check your email to find that you have been kicked out of the class.
Situation B: It is the first day of class for the semester. You check your role to find which students showed up. It states very clearly in your syllabus that those who did not make it to the first class would be kicked out. So you kick out those who did not attend.
Afterward you check your email and find a note from a student explaining that her alarm did not go off and so she missed class, but that she would be at the next one. You reply to say that you are sorry, but she would not be there the next day because she has been bumped from your role. Your syllabus clearly states that this is what would happen to those who did not attend the first class.
You feel a little bad about this, but you also feel that she should have been an adult about the situation and come to class.
Due to a set of circumstances beyond her control, this student missed class. So she instantly wrote an email to the teacher to explain what had happened. How could she have been any more "adult" about this situation?
And what does "being an adult" mean, exactly? It seems everytime I hear that phrase it is used as an excuse never to cut anyone any slack for any reason, or just be outright cruel to people. I thought being an adult meant that we were supposed to grow up and be nicer to people as a whole, and maybe cut some slack once in a while, especially when it is not the other person's fault. I thought that everyone supposedly made mistakes.
But every time this phrase is used it seems to be saying, "Fuck you; everything you have ever learned is wrong, and if you can't cut it in my mind, then you should just fuck off."
Sometimes I almost think children are better people than adults, as a whole. And children are pretty fucking awful.
Current Mood: pissed off
Current Music: "Irish Blood, English Heart" - Morrissey
August 1st, 2010
|04:05 pm - Mostly Dream Stuff Again (This Includes Spike)|
Had a good long talk with the sister-in-law last night after a good long fight with the husband. She made me feel a lot better. I am really glad that Jeremy married her and I can say that I have her as family. Friend, too. I always enjoying seeing her and speaking with her.
...Had a good long fuck with the husband last night, as well. That's always nice.
In other news...a roommate and I each had oddly semi-prophetic dreams on the same night. Ski dreamed that his car wouldn't start, and then in the morning Alan's car would not start. I dreamed that I was with Heather, and there was some big to-do about us spotting an open gas-cap (I think it was hers), and then that day Heather and I were driving back from Hungry Howie's with the pizza and spotted an open gas-cap on the car next to us. We got their attention at a stoplight and they jumped out and fixed it. So, not completely prophetic, but two strange enough occurrences that I think they warrant a semi-prophetic.
Speaking of prophetic, however, I had this thought the other day while walking out of a movie that I might have to grab Alan or Ski out of the way of a car before we got through that parking lot. About two or three seconds later, I had to grab Alan by the shirt and shove him out of the way of a car backing out of a space that apparently only I saw at first. (They were deep in conversation; I was watching the cars. Maybe less prophetic and more just me being aware that I was the only one paying attention.)
And speaking of dreams...
- There was this really weird one the other night where Ski, Heather, Alan, and I were driving down the really nice road from Jacksonville to St. Augustine. It was supposed to be that road in the dream but was actually full of lots of farmland and didn't look at all like that road. Anyway, we were almost to our destination and came to this big open space with just a few houses. Somehow Alan and I had lost Ski and Heather (which is especially strange because we were riding in the same car). We came to this one really long (from side to side) house where you actually had to leave the car behind and walk through the house to keep going, because apparently there really weren't any sides to it and that was the only way to continue. So Alan and I kind of shrugged, figured they must have realized this and we'd see them on the other side, and went into the house.
It looked like a normal house inside. There seemed to be no one there at first except two pugs that looked exactly like Humphrey and Bogart (Alan's mom's pugs), and this 30-something girl I did not recognize at all sitting on a couch watching TV. The girl payed no attention to us, didn't even look up, and we continued through to the back door. We were now in the huge open field with the rolling green hills and it was really, really pretty.
I do not remember if we found Ski and Heather or not; the next thing I remember was when we returned through the house. I came in first (through the back door) and saw that same girl sitting on the couch, still watching TV, along with a woman who looked exactly like Becky (Alan's mom). The pugs were still there, too. Becky looked up at me with this totally blank face and did not say anything. I said to her, "You know, you look exactly like somebody I know...are you Becky?"
The girl still did not look up, and this Becky-person just continued to stare blankly at me, saying nothing. It was really creepy. I said, "You just look so much like her!"
Still she said nothing. Fortunately Alan walked in at that moment, and she turned to him and said, in Becky's voice, "Hey, son," as she always says to him when we see her. I decided that it must be her and that that made so much sense, with the pugs being there and all. That's the last thing I remember from that one.
- Thursday, the night I got extremely drunk at the bar down the street (that's a long story I'll have to get to at another time), I dreamed about Spike. Not that this is unusual at all. (Oh, and this was also the night of the gas-cap dream, though that one was unrelated to this one.) I dreamed that I picked up this guy (Spike) in a bar while out with some girlfriends (one of whom included Heather). I was apparently unmarried, because I kept asking their opinions about whether I should try and take things further than the bar. They said I should at least get his number or something, or maybe even go home with him that night, which, yeah, was a pretty stupid idea.
I ended up going home with him as he somehow kidnapped me and took me to this place where he was staying with Angel and Drusilla. I didn't know what was going on at this point except that he was obviously evil. And for some reason I stayed there for a few days, just waiting to find out what was happening, and saw Angel bring some little, like 6-year-old, girl back for Drusilla and Dru went all vampire on her. So now I was even more freaked out than before, and Spike came to see me and I said, "You're just going to kill me, aren't you!?"
He said, "Yeah, I am. But I'll wait about ten days. Work up an appetite."
So I was just waiting. And then one day, he came to my room, grabbed both my wrists with one hand and my hair with the other and went vampire-face and suddenly I got an idea. I said, "No, wait!"
He said, "*sigh* What?"
I tried to make with the sexy-face and said, "You are so turning me on right now. You should take me to your room and...take advantage of me."
Fortunately (since dreams supposedly end when you die, though I don't think that's true), he seemed to think this was a good idea, and he said, "All right. But afterward, it's suppertime."
The last thing I remember was him telling me (because I was shaking), "Relax. I'm not going to snack in the middle of a blow job."
Sadly, I woke up right there, in the middle of the blow job, still shivering but also orgasming. I like Spike dreams.
Current Mood: horny
Current Music: the fan
July 20th, 2010
|09:59 pm - Borders|
I love border terriers. I've never actually owned one or met one in real life (it seems like everyone who has one lives in England or Scotland or somewhere--another good reason to move there) but I've seen them on TV and in photos, and I've read about them. Eventually, after we've moved out of the five-cat apartment, I will get a border puppy from somewhere. He will be of the brown-and-black variety (there's a word for that I can't remember at the moment and am too lazy to look up) and will be named Seymour after that episode of Futurama that makes everybody cry, "Jurassic Bark." (I will not say why that episode makes people cry for those of you who have not seen it, but everyone should watch it anyway.) After watching that episode (my first episode of that show ever) I decided that would be my eventual border's name because I liked that dog so much, and he even looked as much like a border as I thought a cartoon dog could look. (Turned out, Futurama Seymour was a border so this was even more appropriate than I had first planned.)
Anyway, I was sitting today in our upper-level apartment and relaxing with a mug of water after a workout, and I happened to glance out the window of our screened-in porch and noticed a lady outside walking a border terrier! I was so excited by this, I instantly jumped out of the chair and ran out to the porch and just stared as the old, grey border took a couple of shits in the grass. Who could have guessed that we'd move to the one location in the United States that there is a border terrier? How fitting. I was actually so excited that I considered shouting through the screen, "HEY! LADY IN THE PINK DRESS! IS THAT A BORDER TERRIER?" I didn't. But I did stalker-ly watch them walk to their door (pretty much exactly across the way from ours) just so I would know. For what purpose, I don't know, but at least I know where they are.
Now, it may not have been a border after all. I was watching from some distance and it is true I'd never seen one in person before today. But it had the right basic shape, the right ears, the right tail shape and length, the right face.... I'm getting more excited just typing about this. I was kind of afraid, though, to run down there and ask, "Is this a border terrier?" She might have replied like the people in the puppy stores always reply, "No, it looks kind of like a border, but we never actually get those here. This is a new breed called a velocipoo. It's made by mixing--" I've stopped listening by that point. (And no, for those of you who don't get sarcasm, they never actually say "poo," of course.)
Maybe at some point I will run into them and actually get to see a border up close and personal. What a happy day!
Current Mood: cheerful
Current Music: "Butterfly Kisses" - some dude at a wedding (Unfortunately I just can't get it out of my head!)
July 10th, 2010
|06:15 pm - Subconscious Unleashed: I Can't Even Remember Them All|
I know it's been a while. And this isn't even a real update; it's one of those lists of dreams more for memory's sake than for anyone else, though you're welcome to read it if such things interest you. I'll do an actual update sometime soon. Maybe.
- Most recent: It started out I was making out with Buffy, who apparently was my girlfriend. We were lying in her bed, and her mom was home and was sewing or something in the other room, not paying any attention to us. Then Buffy asked if it was okay for her to give me a couple pills so that I would not be interested in what she was doing for the next little while. I agreed, and swallowed two pills as she ran off to fight whatever. (I don't think I knew her secret--hence the pills.) I went to talk to her mom for a while. She was apparently not too concerned about where Buffy had run off to, either.
It was something Buffy had left behind (can't remember what it was, something really simple) that made me realize there was something really wrong, because she never left whatever it was when she went out. And I guess with that, the no-interest pills wore off. When she showed up again, other weird stuff that I unfortunately cannot remember now started happening and it turned out that Buffy was not herself at all, but her own doppelganger, who was trying to kill Buffy (though the real Buffy had no knowledge of this). When I asked Buffy about this later (dopp disappeared for a while) it turned out that yeah, the Buffy I was kissing was the real one, but the one who gave me the pills was not, and Buffy had no memory of any pills at all.
Then her mom's dopp showed up, as did my own and Oscar's (our cat--don't know why he was there). Oscar's doppelganger had kittens and then stabbed Oscar or something, and Oscar died in my arms as I wept and cried out his name. One of the kittens was our kitten (who looks like a miniature Oscar) and was to grow up to be the "new Oscar," according to the dream. (It was really fucked up.) My own dopp looked like me except with the creepy eyes of The Kitten (as yet unnamed). She (?) stood in the doorway and shot greenish-yellow beams at me through her fingertips while chanting nonsense words, trying to kill me with magic, I assume. Then the real Buffy killed her and the other dopps and we went back to making out on her bed. She laughed about the pills thing and I said I knew it made no sense to take some random pills but I would trust her to do anything.
Later, same dream, I'm walking through the basement of our old church (where I saw the ghost when I was a kid--that place enters into my nightmares all the time now) and I'm telling Casey about what had all taken place, and we agree that was really freaky. Then I'm changing into a costume, apparently in order to perform in some show upstairs. She then had to leave and told me to watch out for monsters, and went back outside, leaving me alone in the dark in this creepy church basement. And suddenly I realize I'm alone and if there's not someone there with me, I will surely be murdered. So I open the door and call to her to come back, just for a few minutes while I get changed, but she's in a hurry and runs away without answering or even looking back.
I see movement, though, outside, out of the corner of my eye, and it happens to be one of those (though there are others behind it)--I think they were called "Weeping Angels"--from an extremely creepy episode of Dr. Who, and I slam the door and start running down the dark hallway, towards the room that I saw the ghost walk into all those years ago, and I hear the door open behind me, and that horrible statue thing is coming, and I'm running faster, and I hear it behind me, and I just keep running and it's catching up.... There were more of those statues outside, and it seemed silly to run into them, but I didn't know if they were "awake" or whatever yet, so it seemed safest to run out there than to stay in where the other one would definitely get me. And of course I couldn't run into that one room. There was a door at the end of this hallway that I was running toward, but the hallway wasn't ending and that was where the nightmare ended. I sat up in a cold sweat. The end.
- This was the night before we moved. As I recall, I was running along a swampy area where there was a large brown fence placed randomly, and I was trying to escape from all sizes of alligators. They went from really big, larger-than-human size to extremely small, like pencil lead and I'm assuming even smaller, though growing rapidly. There were other people around, but the main ones I spoke to were Cortney and Nicole. And the object of all this running seemed to be just to not let the alligators eat you alive. So, more neverending running and jumping and whatnot. Pretty exhausting.
Somewhere in the middle of this horrible nightmare, I realize I've just had other nightmares before this one and that I'm actually in a nightmare right now, and so that, while none of this is actually real, the sensation of being eaten alive is probably not an altogether pleasant one. So I express this concern to Cortney and Nicole and demand that they "send me back" to wakefulness, I suppose, because apparently they're in control of everything. And suddenly they are completely non-responsive and staring at me blankly, and there's a huge gator that's jumping at me as I'm climbing a rope swing-type thing, and I'm screaming, "Send me back! Send me back!" I guess their whole feeling is that I have chickened out or something because I can no longer deal with this whole being eaten alive thing, so they look at me like I am weaker than all the rest of them because I have figured it out and "given up." (This was the night that the character of Stan Uris decided he didn't want any part in hunting down It with the rest of the Losers. (I'm reading It right now.) While the characters and situation in the dream were quite different from this, the emotions were the same, and I'm guessing this is what this was based on.)
Oh, by the way, we arrived in Tampa the next day and were informed that our backyard is full of alligators. Fabulous. Never had a fear of them before and then suddenly, after a completely random nightmare about them, I have a backyard full of them.
- In this one, which was not so much a nightmare as the previous ones, I realize that I somehow (unfortunately can't remember how, though I remember there were laundry baskets involved) have the power to travel to any time and location of my choosing. I share this information with Casey and she's interested in going with me. So together, we decide on Victorian England. It seemed like a safe enough location for two time travelers.
The main problem was that we didn't know if we could return afterward. We knew we could get there, but not whether the return trip would be as easy. But it was clear that this was a power we must take advantage of. We decided not to take very much with us. Basically, our preparations included the following: Find whatever clothing we had laying around the house that most resembled Victorian-ish garb. Pack a few food items for the first few days. Just speak in as close to English accents as we possibly could. And that was about it. Our reasoning for such poor planning ahead was that, once we arrived, no one was going to assume that we were from the future. We would fit right in. I don't know where we thought we were going to stay or get food or anything like that, but it was a dream. We only planned to be gone a week. (Though if we did happen to get stuck there, neither of us would mind too much. My main concern was whether I could see Alan again. I didn't want to take him with me because I was afraid he could somehow get hurt. I don't know why I allowed Casey to come, but that decision was hers to make.)
So we have our laundry baskets full of stuff to take with us, and we're standing in our old house in Virginia with them, and suddenly I notice my Harry Potter wand sitting on my dresser and realize it might somehow make the trip smoother if I use that, so I grab it and we're standing there trying to decide what spell to use, and decide on a basic one from the first HP book. Somehow this equals "Abra Cadabra!" And we're standing there saying this, and it's not working, and we realize it would probably be better if Casey also had a wand. In fact, it seemed so obvious. But, as I informed her, in order for the wand to be "magic," she would have to get it at night from a woodsy location that was somewhat creepy and that we weren't allowed to be in. (My friends and I decided that, instead of buying our wands for our costumes--which we made ourselves instead of buying--we would find them outside somewhere. So we went to some woods somewhere, no idea where this was, where there was a fence stating "No Trespassers," at like midnight, and found what we believed to be the perfect sticks just laying around on the ground, and after painting them with clear nail polish, these became our wands. Oh, and we put colored sparkly nail polish on the tips, too.)
The dream ended before we made it to the woods, but we were on our way. Thinking about it now, it seems to make sense that I was sort of inviting Casey into my friends group by letting her choose her own wand just as we did. At one time I never would have done such a thing as inviting my sister to hang out with my friends, but today I actually would. It's a nice feeling.
- Another extremely weird nightmare, but the only thing I really remember about it was making out with Natalie Portman. (That wasn't the scary part.) I wish I could remember more of it than this, but maybe it'll come back to me. I really need to not procrastinate when it comes to writing down memories, since so many of them are fading more and more quickly. ...Anyway.
- Alan and Toby and I were wandering around downtown Tampa (in the dream). The parts that we were looking at were the parts I saw with Budget during the Drama Week or whatever it was called back in high school. (I don't know how similar these places actually were to those, but in the dream they were the same.) We went into this pizza place where the owner actually remembered me from one time like 10 years ago, and then we headed toward this huge church that I told the guys they really needed to see inside, because it was breathtakingly beautiful. Alan told me that he refused to go in, because to him churches that looked really pretty inside were just--can't remember the word he used. It wasn't nice.
But Toby wanted to see the inside, and Alan pointed out that, even though it was only like 10:00 in the morning, and we had set aside this whole day to go exploring, we were in a hurry. Toby ignored him and followed me, so Alan did too.
We got inside and it was so disappointing, not what I remembered at all. But as I continued to stare, the ceiling began to stretch higher and higher, and there were huge stained-glass windows, and I told the guys to keep watching and it would change. They thought I was crazy.
We went downstairs to talk to this guy in a horrible Jesus costume who was sitting at a desk, signing autographs or something. We were just going to mess with him, ask some stupid questions or something, but he knew we were screwing around because he apparently got that all the time, so he cried out, "NEXT!" (even though there was no one in line behind us) and we just left.
Then it was just me, and I'd suddenly changed into a dude (I think) and was running from some female cop inside this huge church. I was running down tons of twisting stairs and was well ahead of her, and then ran through a door and up some other twisting stairs, thinking she would never catch on that I had just changed direction. And there were so many hiding places, like I could hide in any row of seats and she'd never know.... That's all I can really remember. That one also ended with me running down a seemingly endless path (the stairs).
Oh--I remember something else from the pizza place about Mutant Rodent (the graffiti that was painted all over downtown Tampa back in high school) and some other name that was in the dream, something similar but I can't remember now. Back then no one could agree what MR might be, like a band or a gang or whatever, and in the dream we couldn't either. I wonder if that's still written all over downtown.... I'll have to go see sometime.
Current Mood: hot
Current Music: the ice cream truck song
May 30th, 2010
|04:50 pm - 69...About To Turn 70|
Dude. I had this dream last night that I met Patrick Stewart (we've been watching a lot of "Next Generation" lately) and when I asked him his age, he told me he is "69...about to turn 70." So I looked it up this morning, and he is. He'll turn 70 in July (incidentally on the same day Harrison Ford will turn 68). Freaky!
( The dream:Collapse )
The other night we were watching some "Next Generation" while drinking wine, and I looked at Jonathan Frakes on the screen and said, with this silly grin, "He's really hot."
Alan laughed and said, "You're drunk," and I think he took the glass away from me, though I'm not sure. (I still think that about Frakes, though, even when not drunk. I used to watch "The Next Generation" with my dad when I was really little, I guess about 7 or so, and I always had huge crushes on Patrick Stewart, Jonathan Frakes, and LeVar Burton. I also remember that I was terrified of Worf, though now I think Michael Dorn is a really good-looking dude with a very sexy voice. And, oddly, I can't remember how I felt about Data back then at all, crush or fear. Now I love all of them.)
I should probably finish the laundry.
Current Mood: geeky
Current Music: the "Star Trek" theme