As I was dragging myself through a couple mile run today I contemplated the following:
I used to dream about smoking. The dreams were incredibly vivid, including taste and smell. No one in my immediate family smoked, nor did we particularly socialize with people who did, so I don’t know how my brain decided on those details. When I actually did smoke a cigarette for the first time, it was uncannily like the experience in my dreams. The friend that provided the cigarette noted that I smoked like an old pro. But of course, the mind is a funny thing. I could have just as well "rewritten" my memories of those dreams to match the experience that occurred.
I dreamt last night of running. I dream of swimming too, sometimes. In my dreams, both are incredibly easy for me. Sometimes, the running dreams are like I’m bounding from place to place, but often, they’re just run if the mill…running. Just without the fetters of poor oxygen exchange and difficult joints. But running has never been easy for me. Even after kinda doing it for a few years now, it’s still a struggle. And I don’t even know how to swim. It’s too bad that not all dream experiences carry over into real life.
I really hope the league hubbub has come to an end now. It’s getting a little old. There’s been shirt drama and baggage drama, exacerbating the already present issues of field space and female registration numbers. I am a little surprised at how much complaining there’s been considering the circumstances. Keith worked to schedule enough field space for 16 teams, and Jose’s tried to come up with a baggage system that wouldn’t take too much time to implement, both for him and the captains at draft. Yet, people have been very grumpy about any concessions they might have to make. Getting a couple women to switch to Thursdays was worse than pulling teeth, and I got the feeling that there was some resistance in once again recruiting women for league. Not that I’ve been doing this long, but I don’t remember other leagues being as tiring as this one. No matter. Games start next week and, in the end, the play’s the thing.
Haven’t gotten too much work done on Model Species yet. These latest changes are…daunting isn’t quite the right word. I can see where the writing needs to go, I’m just not sure how to execute it. I’m kind of mulling things over, letting them settle into my brain. Or at least that’s my excuse. It could be that I’m just a lazy procrastinator.
Right now, I think it’s time to go pass out, despite the three cups of coffee I finished off a couple hours ago. Maybe I’ll read some before that. I’m in the mood for Yeats.
Dream this morning:
I was at my parent’s house. I was sent to take out the garbage. Immediately before that my mom had been asking me about Dima, so it seems to me this was set slightly in the past. As an answer I quoted her some woeful song lyrics. By Depeche Mode, I think, but now I can’t what song it was. Anyway, the garbage cans were way in the back corner of the yard. Opposite of where the used to be in real life. As I was walking back to the house, a strange were-wolf thing growled at me from the other side of the chain link fence. It looked at me and let out a growling scream. My dad was outside fixing the car and I yelled at him that there was a wolf, worg thing. There were also nuns living next door to us and they were outside working on their garden. The were-wolf had circled around our yard, but stopped to attack one of the nuns. My dad saw this happen and took off to distract the were-wolf. The nun, a little woman with dark hair, ran off and the thing started attacking my dad. This was a way away from me, out in the street. I started yelling from near our side door, hoping to get it away from my dad. Another nun attracted its attention and I went inside even though I wasn’t sure my dad was safe. A few seconds later the second nun, with long gray hair, was at the door and I let her in. My dad crashed through too, the were-wolf right behind him. We closed the door though and were safe. The thing kept screeching though, a horrible sound. I asked the nun if she was okay. She showed me deep scratches on her leg, and I said I would go get peroxide so they wouldn’t get infected. The nun had other ideas though. She went to the door and opened it, saying a prayer to send the were-wolf away. The were-wolf attacked instead, chasing the nun into our house. At that point I woke up.
I dream of nuns occasionally. They are usually in danger from some twisted animal, here a were-wolf, in another dream a mutant orca whale. “Do you consider nuns to be good women? Some of the best teachers I’ve had are nuns,” Eric said when I told him this dream. “I suppose,” I said. “Actually, I don’t think about nuns much at all. In my dreams they do un-wise things.” And it’s usually connected to their religion. So what does this dream mean? More happens in this one than my orca dream. There isn’t as much helplessness as in my slasher dreams. It’s more that other people’s actions mess up perfectly good plans made by me. How is this true in my life at the moment?
They had the Wedding in Times Square this morning on GMA. And while it was beautiful, I can’t help feeling a little sorry for the couple. Despite having it all paid for, an amazing looking cake, Russel Watson singing to you, it’s so public. Strangers wishing you well, being pulled from here to there just to get every moment on TV, shouting vows about the New York traffic. But I guess this is why my wedding was in a small chaple with two witnesses, the deacon, and me in a green dress. *smile*
I’m in a good mood, though a lazy mood. I’m not motivated just yet. I slept like the dead. My dream last night involved writing a testimony for a guy I knew (in my dreams at least) who was accused of stealing. It was a long test-like thing, and ppl kept interupting me and I would write really dumb answers. And then I would erase them and do it again. Eugene from The Practice was there. An Asian woman who worked in the lab where I washed test tubes was there. Rocky Hardy was there. This other annoying woman that I don’t know irl was there.
I think I will take some gaming material and go to the library today to work on my campaign. I need to get out here. I’ve been a little stir crazy these days. Hmm… I suppose I should put my Hawiian Nut Beef stuff together to marinate so we can have it tomorrow.
I was at some sort of singles mixer. We were encouraged, within a couple hours time, to get to know as many people as we wanted, and go as far as sitting around and necking with them. No strings attached.
I spent a little time talking to a few guys, but ended up mostly with one guy: a blond guy that looked like a cross between Rocky Hardy and Christopher Titus. We ended up kissing a bit after awhile, and he said he wanted to go out with me away from the mixer. I woke up with that strange warm, loved feeling.
This was set against the backdrop of an odd reptile aquarium/resturant. I was there for some sort of class/dinner. Two ppl of note there. One was Candy Abelein, a friend of mine form grade school. I haven’t heard from her in years. Actually Kari Jaeger was there too. We hooked up like 10 years hadn’t passed in our friendship, but it was different with Candy. I didn’t know want to say to her because I knew her mom had died and for some reason I tought her dad had passed away too. And irl, I feel I wrote something wrong and that is why our friendship ended suddenly (we were pen pals by then). The other strange part of Candy being there was that she spent half the time transformed into a cat.
The other person was Mike Mason. He had graduated from college with his degree in architecture, but had decided to become a chef/magician. Unfortunately, he was a very bad chef/magician and he hadn’t made any money at it. I wanted to talk to him about why he had changed careers. We had been flirting all during the dinner, while Mike was taking detailed notes on the meal. Mike said he’d only talk to me if we could do it while taking a bath. For some reason I thought this was strangely sweet. So we went to find a bath tub, me in a robe, him walking around completely naked. There were two options for bath tubs, a big one and a small one. Mike wanted the small one, “more intimate”, but it was going to be used for disecting one of the six-legged alligators that had died in one of the tanks.
I dreamt about smoking last night. I was smoking right in front of Eric. All of yesterday I was wanting, chraving a smoke. Oh that they weren’t so terrible for a person, that they didn’t make kisses taste bad… *sigh*
Gonna do dishes now I think. Or maybe take a shower first. Haven’t decided. I’m also thinking of having Eric drop me off at Target if he comes home for lunch today. It’s so hot though and I’d have to walk back in it. But there’s a few things I need: Soft Soap, Father’s Day cards. The kinds of things that make my husband restless to run into a store and then out. So unsatisfying.
I had a very nice three day weekend, topped off by amazingly deep sleep this morning. The dream I was having I could hardly shake off. It was about a small town in Nebraska (a town that is often in my dreams though it does not exist), several of cast from West Wing, and the ghost of a nun. Very odd dream, very lucid. And very comfortable although I woke up several times after the ghost would show up with that cold fuzzy feeling of a nightmare, but then I would just drop back into it.
Saturday night I was to the point I could have just killed Eric. Gawd I was pissed at him. The earache thing came back and my head was just killing me. And for some reason he seemed to feel it was my obligation to entertain him and when I wouldn’t, he went to bed grumpy. So I eventually went to bed too but couldn’t get to sleep. I really needed massage. I could tell Eric was awake but he wouldn’t aknowledge me. Ug, he was being such dork! Finally he relented and gave me a massage and I finally got to sleep. Granted, the pain in my head was probably making me a little over-sensitive and the night was awfully warm, but still…
The rest of the weekend was great. My DMing went well. And I got to play a bit, always a happy thing. I got my Tombstone pictures back (anyone know a site with good Southwestern graphics?), worked on my Rifts web pages (the frame is too much, gonna have to change it), and I kept the apartment from becoming a total wreak.
Today is going to be the last nice day of a three day cooler spell. *sigh* Then it’s back to 107… Why do I live here on the doorstep of hell?