Prompt #5: My Dreams

I've given up on going by "days" for the prompt and will just stick with my own schedule for posting when I remember am not lazy have time.

This prompt could be interpreted a few ways, but I'll go literal and ramble about my nightly subconscious adventures. My dreams are extremely fickle. They tend to be extremely realistic and vivid and include all five senses. Most of the time I don't realize I'm dreaming until I wake up extremely confused and disoriented. Sometimes I know what's going on couldn't possible be real (or is extremely unlikely) but take it for granted as being real anyway. Other times I realize I'm dreaming and try to control the events with varying levels of success. I believe this is called "lucid dreaming," although I've heard different definitions of the term.

Only once have I had definite control over a dream: the first time I was clearly aware that I was dreaming I was standing in front of a row of doors, perhaps at a motel or apartment complex. I remember the stucco wall was a harsh shade of coral or salmon and the doors were all teal with gold numbers. I remember being under the impression I was in the desert, and I think I remember thorny plants (perhaps strangled-looking roses?) along portions of the wall. Considering the door directly in front of me, wondering what I should want to be on the other side, I said to myself "when I open this I will wake up." And I did so, immediately and fully. I have never had that level of control again. Even when I am aware I am dreaming and have tried to control elements, they obey only grudgingly or not at all.

Something I find odd about my dreams is that many times I'll dream about a location or a person that I have never seen before in my waking life but I find it familiar (sometimes vaguely, sometimes extremely), as though I have been there or met them many times before. Perhaps I dreamed about them before but didn't remember upon waking? Or while dreaming a dream I will have the feeling I've dreamt it before and make guesses at what happens next. Whether or not I am actually recalling the dream or am shaping how it plays out I don't know.

When I was young I would have very frequent recurring dreams located at my old church/elementary school. (They were located at the same complex for my kindergarten and first grade years.) It was around Christmas time: we were all sitting at the lunch tables doing Christmas crafts in the evening just after sundown. We realize the jingle bell sounds we hear aren't from our crafts, but from something far away and drawing closer... Something bright is approaching us in the sky. Could it actually be Santa Claus coming to visit us? But something is wrong. It feels suddenly very dark and sinister. We try to take shelter under the canvas canopy above the tables but realize it offers no protection at all, and so run indoors to the nearest classroom. But it isn't a classroom at all: it's my living room and kitchen! I run into the kitchen and duck down to hide behind the breakfast bar, but as sometimes happens in dreams, something doesn't make sense: I am clearly behind the solid barrier of the bar but can still see through it to what is happening on the other side. Suddenly the roof smashes in and a rocket (much like the one pictured) descends into the room.

That's where I always woke up. I never could make sense of it. Then again I regard my years at that school (small private Lutheran school, kindergarten through eighth grade) as largely an ordeal I came out of with tougher skin and a jaded outlook on life; when I dream about that place (roughly five or six times a year) they are rarely pleasant dreams. Rarely are they outright nightmares... except the one time I dreamed deadly pizzas spiraled out of the sky and chased us off the playground trying to slice our heads off. Try and tackle THAT one, dream interpreters.

Well Butter My Buns!

There's no particular reason for that title, I just think it's rather silly.

Updates in my life! I have two (count 'em, TWO) jobs now, which is amazing considering the economy and the five-month job search previous. This also means I am extremely busy most of the time and rarely have a true day off -- if I'm not working at one place, I'm working at the other.

Day Job is data entry and updating product information for an electronic components company. ("Components" meaning the itty bitty pieces that larger electronics companies buy to create their products that we the consumers buy.) I get to sit in from of a computer all day and translate part numbers, edit and/or create spec pages, and overhaul product listings and information for the corporation's website. It gets tedious but the office ambience is extremely laid back and fun. Plus they like to remind me to take lots of breaks. ;)

Night Job is at a popular fabric and craft store. Team members do everything there: cashiering, cut counter, go-backs and recovery, typical retail stuff. Being surrounded by crafty and creative supplies for hours at a time is extremely dangerous for me... I constantly want to turn right back around and put my entire paycheck right back into the store! This one is just a seasonal position for the holidays but there is always a possibility they may ask me to stay on after the new year. To be honest I haven't decided what I will do if that turns out to be the case, because Day Job pays better and will [probably] have more long-term options for me.

In other news, I had my first real car accident on late October. No one was hurt and the damage was relatively minor, but my poor little car was sans driver's side mirror for a little while. Driving on California freeways is an ordeal in and of itself, but lacking a mirror makes it ten times more terrifying. Little Blue actually just came back from the body shop two days ago, and while I can honestly say that while I am glad to have her back in nearly good-as-new shape (minus a few previous minor bumps and bruises), I miss the rental. A Chrysler Sebring is just a different class of car than what I drive, though it drove extremely touchy and took a little getting used to. As of tomorrow I won't be missing satellite radio though: after hearing me rave about it for a week, it's going to be a Christmas present from my folks!

We called the police right away, and they found the guy who hit me at fault for the accident. I thought that would make things simple: police report states he's at fault, his insurance is forced to accept liability and pay for everything, badda bing badda boom my car gets fixed and I get a rental with no out-of-pocket expenses. BOY was I wrong! He decided to claim the accident was equally as much my fault as his (which is baloney) and so his insurance won't cover our expenses. Luckily I just had to pay the deductible for the repairs and the rental was cheap; both our insurance companies have my statement and the police report now anyway, and my insurance is going to kick his insurance's ass and make them reimburse us.

Neither here nor there: As of late September, I am the proud new owner of my first smart phone. Being a Verizon customer, I chose the DroidX and absolutely looove it. The (compared to my previous plan/phone) astronomical bill is a little daunting, but with two jobs I at least don't have to worry about affording it.

That's about all I can think of right now, so I'll catch you cats later. Hopefully I'll remember to start up the prompt thing again at well. Stay cool!

Day 4 — Your sibling (or closest relative)

I have one half brother, my dad's son from a previous marriage. He's a police officer in Virginia, and just returned home from Iraq with the Army National Guard very late in August. His wife is amazing -- the fact that she married him proves it -- and his dog is the best-behaved animal I have ever had the pleasure of meeting and knowing. My favorite photo of the two of us is from when I was about two years old, so he was about 14. We're wearing different silly Mr. Potato Head glasses and are holding different mouths in our lips. It's bizarre and fun and so like us.

His wife is always very glad when we come out to visit because he has someone else to pick on for awhile.

When my mom told me he was leaving to join the Navy (I was six) I was furious at him. I loved my him very very much, and he was a fantastic big brother. I still do love him very much and he is still a fantastic older brother.

Now, where were we?

Day 3 — Your parents

This will be fun. Even though this prompt is just about my parents, of course being their daughter I am pretty involved in some areas so I will be in here as well.

My dad is one of eight children. He has five brothers and two sisters. Both of his passed away years ago. My mom has one brother, and her mother (my grandmother) is still alive but in a nursing home with hospice care.

I am an the only child of my parents, but my dad has a son from a previous marriage. Both my parents worked all day and into the evening when I would younger, so I grew up a day care kid. It was my dad's job to pick me up every day around 5:30pm, and everyone knew his bright orange truck on sight. As soon as we got home he went straight to his computer and played card games online while my mom slept on the couch and I was left to my own devices.

My dad is very passive-aggressive, jealous, and stubborn. My mom is pretty quiet now but I still see the remnants of how fiery she must have been when she was younger. As far as I know the only friends she has are the people she works with. When my mom and I used to go to church she occasionally attended bible studies as well, but dad didn't like her going out. Even for bible studies. I was always under the impression that he essentially didn't let her have friends. He doesn't really have friends either now that he's out of work, just people he does handyman/contractor work for and our neighbors.

I think because I didn't have a model for friendships growing up I didn't know how to socialize properly. I didn't know that kids are supposed to be inquisitive and ask questions, so I was very quiet and shy and did as I was told. Once when my mom and I were leaving church, when I was maybe 10 or 11, my mom asked me if I had ever thought about running away. I said no. She replied that she thought about it sometimes. That scared the crap out of me and I had absolutely no idea how to respond.

When I was in seventh grade, so around 12 or 13, I sort of almost but really didn't attempt to hurt myself. I was really upset about our lack of family anything and stressed about school bullies, so after a bath one night I was crying and grabbed my mom's sewing scissors and made cutting motions across my wrists. Now I have never cut myself and never will cut myself, but sometimes I needed some sort of pain for... something. Mostly I dug my fingernails into myself or poked myself with pens and pencils. Enough to feel it but not enough to cause noticeable lasting damage. The next day at school I cracked again during class, totally broke down, as was sent to the office. My mom came from work and it all came out -- how I didn't feel like I belonged anywhere and how I was convinced they didn't love me because they never acknowledged me and how much I hated that school and blah blah blah.

So, because I was in emotional pain about being ignored by my parents, we went to family counseling. The therapist would talk to me in one room and my parents in another. She started spending more and more time with my parents and finally stopped talking to me altogether. So once again I was left to my own devices. Mostly drawing on the whiteboard or figuring out how to play the Imperial March on an old little plunky musical toy. (I finally did get the Imperial March down, and it sounded pretty awesome on that toy.)

My dad was forced to retire from his position as a crane operator/mechanic when I was in high school. Years before I was born he was electrocuted and suffered really, really terrible burns all over his body. When electricity enters a body is has to exit somehow, which is why grounding is so important. If something isn't grounded it runs the risk of being blown up, human bodies included. My dad was fortunate (relatively speaking) in that instead of blowing off a limb the electricity exited all over his body. He is missing a pinky toe, though. He was pretty miserable being forced to sit at home, but keeps busy by doing handyman work for people. His specialty is custom cabinetry, and he's very very good at what he does. The man is an artist with wood. I love the smell of heavy duty grease and sawed pine because both remind me of him.

Through all of it -- the accident and the awful and painful recovery -- my mom was there.  She changed his bandages, dressed the wounds. I can't image watching someone you love being in that much pain, but she did it. And I get so angry at him sometimes for not being plain old nicer to her considering everything she has done for him.

My mom works as an assistant manger-type for an electrical components company. She's been working there for probably 15 or 16 years, and she is vastly underpaid for her position compared to other companies. She also does not know how to type properly or work a computer effectively, and probably wouldn't be able to survive in a modern office setting where she would be better paid. The company she works for now is basically a mom-and-pop sort of place, but the owners are fantastic and really take care of their employees. Trouble is they have been struggling really badly for years now and has had to cut a lot of the perks they used to have for their people -- the annual Laughlin trip, parties on their boat, trips to Catalina, et cetera.

Nowadays all we do is sleep, work, then come home and sit on our individual computers. Each of us has laptops that we surf on in the living room with the TV on. It's really sad, and it makes me angry, but I don't know what to do about it. I try to get them up and out with me, to dinner or out shopping or a theme park, anything. They never "feel like it." I've pretty much given up trying to do something about it. I'm really looking forward to moving out, but at the same time I don't want to leave my mom. My dad isn't abusive in the traditional sense, but living with him can be very exhausting and difficult.

I guess the truth is we're a pretty typical family, complete with shortcomings and a faults and whatever else you can think of.

bluh

Things have actually been happening lately. I was quite prepared to compile a stellar post, but then this suspicious aura (likely a migraine) manifested and I think I would rather go to sleep.

So, the stellar post will have to wait until tomorrow.

Day 2 — Your Crush

He has a girlfriend, and I am not a tart, so he is a nonissue! Anyway I only fancy him for his beastly car. Mee-ow.

Anyway, the mutual friend that schedules the get-togethers where we hang out (very rarely as it is) is moving far far away, so I probably won't be seeing him any more. Weep.

Day 1 — Your Best Friend

So remember that time I said "starting tomorrow this is what you have look forward to"? That was how long ago? Not yesterday.

I actually went out of state on vacation for a week an a half with family to visit my brother, who just returned from Iraq with the Army National Guard.

But here we go!

I don't have a best friend. I haven't had a best friend since high school. Sometimes I do still think of her as my best friend, since I have never known anyone who comes close to comparing to her. It's been a long while since I have talked to her, however; she had a lot of serious family and health issues all at once, and is far out of state as far as I know. The girl has dealt with a lot and sort of dropped off the face of the planet. I think about her every day and miss her more often than that. I hope she's okay, wherever she is. I love you Jenelle.

Something to do

I found this little 30-day prompt challenge at monicker. and decided it would be great for me, who constantly wants to blog but doesn't know where to start.

So, starting tomorrow, this is what you have to look forward to.

Day 1 — Your Best Friend
Day 2 — Your Crush
Day 3 — Your parents
Day 4 — Your sibling (or closest relative)
Day 5 — Your dreams
Day 6 — A stranger
Day 7 — Your Ex-boyfriend/girlfriend/love/crush
Day 8 — Your favourite internet friend
Day 9 — Someone you wish you could meet
Day 10 — Someone you don’t talk to as much as you’d like to
Day 11 — A Deceased person you wish you could talk to
Day 12 — The person you hate most/caused you a lot of pain
Day 13 — Someone you wish could forgive you
Day 14 — Someone you’ve drifted away from
Day 15 — The person you miss the most
Day 16 — Someone that’s not in your state/country
Day 17 — Someone from your childhood
Day 18 — The person that you wish you could be
Day 19 — Someone that pesters your mind—good or bad
Day 20 — The one that broke your heart the hardest
Day 21 — Someone you judged by their first impression
Day 22 — Someone you want to give a second chance to
Day 23 — The last person you kissed
Day 24 — The person that gave you your favorite memory
Day 25 — The person you know that is going through the worst of times
Day 26 — The last person you made a pinky promise to
Day 27 — The friendliest person you knew for only one day
Day 28 — Someone that changed your life
Day 29 — The person that you want tell everything to, but too afraid to
Day 30 — Your reflection in the mirror

Surviving

I am. With the short acrylic-less nails. It's been a challenge to say the least, but I think I'll pull through. I need chocolate.

Ch-ch-ch-ch-changeeees

Oh that's right, I have a blog now.

Typing is a whole new experience after yesterday. My keys no longer clack and clatter when they are depressed, but whisper serenely. The quiet is disquieting. It's as though I have been reintroduced to the art.

Did I get a new keyboard? Or a whole new laptop? No, no. A few of keys are still chipped and sad looking, which is regrettable.

 I, uh, got my acrylics removed. (wah wah wah) Yes, pretty anticlimactic. I've 

 had acrylic nails for about two years solid, plus a few times time before that. My natural nails are weak and do not grow well and acrylics were an easy way to keep them long and reinforced. Unfortunately now that I am temporarily unemployed I can't afford to keep them up. At any rate it was time to give my fingers a break. Now they are rather sad, and painful, because a couple were broken past the nail bed and cut very very short. I'll be doing my best to keep them healthy and grow them naturally long, so wish me luck, because I will definitely need it. Luck or tips, either way.

In other news I did get to hang out at D*land with a lovely group of people on Sunday. We lined up a couple hours before DCA opened to get WoC Fast Passes for the first show of the night. We also bought picnic dinners for the second show (FANTASTIC deal!), which ended up getting canceled due to a broken water main in the viewing area. I was horrified though not very surprised at the abuse CMs were getting from guests who were livid because of the canceled show. As we walked through Paradise Park (which was flooded pretty badly) I wished the CMs good luck and cheered on the custodial CMs, who were arriving in force with brooms to sweep the worst of the water to drains.

The show gets better the more I watch it; admittedly I was left a little befuddled at the preview I attended, mostly because of the Lion King segment. I won't give it away, don't worry, but man oh man. The show is also a little choppy in places where Bob Iger had obviously forced changes, but this time I noticed the transitions were a little smoother than I initially thought.

Even though the second show was canceled, the third show went without a hitch after a 15 minute delay. We didn't stay for the third show, but went to check out Glowfest for a bit. It's quite a party.

Kitties v.2

Although I changed the name of my blog and no longer really need to justify the (former) name, it's fun to show off my furbabies. Today, I bring you Spike!

Spike is Moose's brother, and we adopted them at the same time. The resemblance is uncanny, no? Just like Moose, Spike cannot meow. If possible Spike's squeaks are even more pathetic.

He's easily the smartest, and possibly the sweetest and most annoying and frustrating. All of them are "helpers," but Spike is the worst of the lot. He also really enjoys trying to get into things he has no business getting into, like cabinets and drawers and boxes and plastic shopping bags. He tried getting into a bag on the kitchen counter while I was unloading groceries last week, so I moved it out of the way onto a raised platter we keep fruit on. He didn't hesitate to stand up on the platter and try getting into the bag again. Not to get anything in particular, just to be a pest.

Some of Spike's nicknames are Red-Headed Step Child, Damian (of The Omen fame), Freckle Lips (he has black spots on his lips, so cute and weird), Daddy's Boy, and "Your Cat" (as in "DAMMIT DAD YOUR CAT DRAGGED A TOWEL DOWN THE HALL AGAIN" and yes that really happens).

He really likes getting up on this wall of the shower in the mornings while my mom is getting ready for work. He only gets down when my dad stands next to it so he can jump down in my dad's shoulders. He is pitifully cute with my dad.

See that face? That ô_o face? He's a thinker. He's probably smarter than me, really.

THE END!

Yard sale, day 2

Today was much much better than yesterday. A lot more traffic, both on foot and vehicle. I'm up to about $60 cash in pocket for the two days, which is pretty sweet. It'll pay for my Mickey's Halloween Party ticket this fall. Been a few years since the Halloween party at the resort was held parkside... I went the past three years in a row to Mickey's Trick or Treat in DCA and had a lot of fun. Cannot WAIT to see Halloween Screams again! It's my favorite show out of pretty much all of them, rivaled only by maybe Fantasmic!. (Yes that includes the brand new World of Color. My reaction to WoC is a whooole 'nother entry.)

Buuut I digress. Can't help it, sorry.

So yes, sold a bunch of stuff, and also had a lot of interest and people saying they'd be back tomorrow. Two ladies in particular cleaned me out pretty well for about $20 worth of stuff combined, which is saying something, considering they got mostly 25¢, 50¢, and $1 items.


I did go back and buy Juli the bowling ball. Isn't she lovely?

It was not particularly enjoyable carrying her while riding my bike back to my house. I almost fell over a few times trying to adjust my grip. She's a good 11 or 12 pounder... didn't trust my wicker basket to hold her.

We had our first Crazy today as well. She didn't speak English very well but she kept talking about how Michelle Obama cares about the children, and how she (the Crazy, not Michelle Obama) is better than most Americans because she went to a local community college for 23 years, and an education is good but being smart is better, and other random things. I was insulted at first but when I finally caught on that she wasn't all there I just did my best to look politely bored and say "mhmm" and "yes" and "no" at the right moments and not smack the stacked baseball caps off of her smug little head.

Tomorrow is the last day! WHEW

Yard sale, day 1

This weekend my complex is having a park-wide yard sale. I got a late start (surprise!) and set up some of my stuff: jewelry, art supplies, assorted knick-knacks. The usual. Made a whopping $17 in about an hour, then didn't make another sale for three hours.

 When my dad got home I asked him to watch the loot so I could bike around the neighborhood and check out what other people were selling. Beings that Friday isn't a typical yard sale/garage sale/swapmeet day I'm not surprised there wasn't much going on, but I did pick up a few things from a lovely elderly lady.

I found an endearingly, shall we say, "loved" (read: beat up) looking gold-plated "N" charm necklace. I asked whose name started with "N," and as it turns out and she and her sister used to buy boxes of jewelry from estate sales and sell it on Ebay. She told me to take it when I told her my name. I ended up getting two more items from her at no cost; a feathery flower sweater pin, and this little gem.

Sorry for the out of focus phone picture. I wore it the rest of the time I was selling.

Come tomorrow or Sunday I also might be the owner of a lovely blue 11-pound bowling ball named Linda Juli. (Where "Linda" came from I have no idea.) I'll keep you posted.

Water Woes

Shampoo, and soap in general, is a wonderful thing. It keeps (most) people clean and smelling nice. They are normally used in a shower or bath with water and a wash cloth or loofah.

I highly doubt this is news to anyone who reads blogs. It is hardly my intention to lecture anyone on hygiene and proper bathing techniques. That's not even the point, really.

The point is I have really shitty luck with showers.

Now the vast majority of the time I can make it through the morning ritual without aberration. But every so often the water lines need work, and when they do, we have to stay on our toes. Hesitantly opening the tap to rinse dishes, crossing our fingers when flushing the john... and taking really quick showers. All of this is during the window of time the crew is supposed to be working on the water. Usually it's something like between 10am and noon, or from noon to 2pm, what have you.

The notices usually go out a week or two before the anticipated work, which is very appreciated. Some sort of notice is better than no notice at all. Unfortunately that's what it boils down to anyway.

Not once, not twice, but three times I have been in the shower when I feel the water pressure slowly but steadily dying, which lets me know I had better hurry the hell up rinsing the shampoo out of my hair so I don't have to sit in a soapy grumpy mess which I wait for it to come back on. It is not at all pleasant to be covered in drying soapy film, either on my skin or in my hair. Icky icky icky.

Today it nearly happened again, but by accident. We have a new furnace being installed by a guy who I would personally not trust to hold my place line in the supermarket.

Not a minute after I stepped out of a quick shower this afternoon, my dad yelled down the hall asking how much soap I had in my hair. Turns out the dude cut a water line while he was installing the furnace. I narrowly avoided another sudsy episode.

Kitties v.1

The internet is full of cats. They are everywhere. It's as if the species is one giant meme, whether they like it or not. My family has had cats since before I was born, and we've always had at least two. So I was thinking... what better way to break in a new blog than to contribute to the kitty madness!

My household currently contains five of the monsters and all of their drama -- and there is a LOT of drama.

I'll introduce them one at a time spread out a bit so as not to overload with cat pictures in one post.

Naturally I must start with my Moose. He's my baby, and he's gigantic. In my completely unbiased opinion he's the cutest. In everyone's opinion he is also often the dumbest. His name and the images of the slow-but-likable meat-head high school football player it inspires are well deserved.

He chirps and squeaks like a kitten. To say he "meows" is to be very generous.

When sleeping out amongst the living he is usually on his back curled into a very unnatural position with his head and forepaws pointing one direction and his butt end twisting the exact opposite.

That is a 17" monitor he's sitting next to all slouchy-like. He's a bigun.

Generally the only time he really wants attention is when I'm in bed reading, and then he's very adamant about it, "sneaking" onto my chest to get between my face and my book. He also enjoys stealing my bedtime snacks, usually pretzels or dry cereal. And yes, once I finally give in and give him some of whatever I'm snacking on, he's very careful and fastidious about breaking off pieces and chewing. As soon as I put the book on my night stand he flounces across the bed and jumps down, it never fails. Sometimes he comes back, sometimes he doesn't.

There are times late at night I'll be mucking about online and he decides he wants attention. His favorite method is to sit on my mouse hand or lay across my keyboard while I'm typing. Pushy.

He got very sick when the tainted pet food was a problem a couple years ago. I'm glad he stuck around.

Dork.

And that is a little about my Moosiepoo.

Also do not be fooled, that picture of my old PC is OLD. I do all my internetting from a sexy little thing called a MacBook Pro. My Magic Mouse and I love you!

Drill

This may or may not be one. I haven't decided yet. I also have no idea where this blog will take me. Better strap yourself in for safety just in case.

My good friend Earthling is on her way to a writing workshop out of state, and I couldn't be more thrilled for her. Her good fortune is a win/win for everyone, because she is sharing her experiences over at her blog set up specifically for, uh, sharing her experiences. Even more groovy, she is sharing her reading list. I happen to be a sci-fi/fantasy lover myself, and it has been ages since I picked up a book I really loved, so naturally I was thrilled to see some options with glowing reviews from a personal friend.

List in hand I made the trip to my favorite used bookstore. I tried perusing for the authors and titles I wanted, but the "organization" of the place is a bit overwhelming, and luckily the owner is always happy to help. He might be quiet at first but get him going and he'll gush about any genre or author you throw at him. As the glowing Yelp review mentions, he knows exactly where any book is.

The bad news: I only walked out with one of the books from Earthling's list. The good news: I still came home with five books. From E's list he had Nova by Samuel R. Delany. The other four I brought home? Lasher by Anne Rice, and, uh, HarryPotterstwothroughfour.

Now there is a pair: Anne Rice and Harry Potter. I wonder what they would talk about over tea?