a watery sleep

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The tsunami. It happened the day before I got on an airplane for New Orleans. I read about it briefly before I left for the airport, I watched CNN on the monitors at the gate. Initial reports were shocking, 20,000 people dead, many missing. I was floored, it was terrible. Then I was on a plane and on vacation and away from tv and the internet and news. I’d catch a headline here or there, watching the toll creep up and over 100,000.
I got back to town and read up on it, tried to catch up on what was possibly the worst event to have missed. The thing is, I don’t have tv (I have a tv, I don’t have any reception, by choice, so I never get to see news or anything – and to be clear I’m not one of those ‘tv rots your brain’ assholes with some ‘my entertainment choices are holier than yours’ gambit. Quite simply, when i have tv I watch it too much and don’t interact with people as much, but really, my tv watching habits are for another post). Since I don’t have tv I dont get the barrage of images, I don’t get the solemn news reports, i don’t get the dramatic music and the amazing graphics. I don’t get to meet ‘special heros’ or spend a moment looking at those lost. I get my news online, I read the articles, learned what I could learn.
The thing is, I haven’t spent a lot of time on this. I donated my money, I hoped it went somewhere good and my exposure has been pretty slight from there on.
Except at night.
Every night since the tsunami I have dreamed about it, vivid, bright, realistic dreams. Each dream is different in location and situation but each one is about the tsunami. In some dreams I am on a beach and the wave hits suddenly, dragging me in. Once, I was in a parking lot, the wave came over a warehouse and I held tight to a dark green, busted old mini van. They all start differently, but the all end the same, with me drowning.
In every one of the dreams I am pulled into the water, sometimes I can see other people, sometimes just debris, sometimes the water is blue or brown or green. I struggle, i fight, I can feel my body being pulled and twisted and I can feel myself unable to breathe.
Every night I dream of an event that I am completely removed from and I hate it. I don’t know what to do about it.

activewear

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So, dang, yo! It was a busy busy busy weekend.
Friday: Friday was not so interesting, it consisted of a bit of cleaning, pizza eating, goofmobiling and playing with the dog.
Saturday: The day started with the realtor coming out to assess things so that maybe the house will sell. Exciting? Not as exciting as putting squirrels in your pants for the purposes of gambling, but not bad.
(unrelatedly, the dog ate my DVD remote. I didn’t think much of it until I went and put Season 5 of the Simpsons in there. There is no scroll button on the front of my dvd player so I can’t scroll through menus of any sort. This isn’t a big deal except on episodic dvd’s like the Simpsons where you want to scroll through the list and pick the option “Play all without commentary”. Essentially, I can the first episode of any of the dvds. Also, I can’t turn on the subtitles, change to widescreen format or watch the extra footage on any of my dvd’s. I’m pretty sure that Ghengis is getting a universal remote for his birthday and that universal remote will be used by me or i will beat his puppy ass into the ground.)
After the realtor left, David made me breakfast (scrambled eggs with spinach, tomatoes and cheese) then he and I settled in for some hardcore coloring in Spongebob coloring books (WTF did you think I was gonna say? We already determined that banana stretching is only an illusion!). David is way more precise about his coloring than I am. I think I completed 4 pages by the time he was done with his first one. I totally missed coloring! We just kept the crayons and books on the table all weekend and I would go color now and then. It’s good for the soul.
(My sister gave me a Love Sack (shut up, pervert). The Love Sack is a gigantic bean bag monstrosity made for two people to sit on. Gigantic isn’t quite the word I’m looking for…remember when Jabba got Leia in that tarty little outfit? Yeah, pretend I’m the Weeble version of Leia and the Love Sack is Jabba without the tongue or access to a pit of doom. I had to hire a team of oxen to move it around my house.)
Then David and I curled up on the Love Sack (did I tell you about this? I think I did, perhaps in an aside somewhere else in this post, like right above this) and watched ‘Tampopo’. The movie made me hungry for Japanese noodles so I pitched myself to the floor and yelled until David took me out for noodles (or maybe I asked and he agreed, the details get hazy). After dinner we ventured over to see ‘I <3 Huckabees' at the cheapy theatre. Apparently every newspaper writer ever announced Huckabees to be their all time favorite movie or something. They all made this announcement on the same day so everyone on the planet went to go see this movie that night. No mind, we got in, we loved it, we will probably go see it again to pick up on anything we missed. (if anyone wants to buy me a late christmas present, a timely MLK jr present or and early birthday present, Napoleon Dynamite is out on dvd. Just a thought) Sunday: I woke up early with an urge to move stirring in my heart (I thought I was dying or something, it just felt so weird to have...motivation on a sunday morning). I got up, made coffee instead of sending the boy out to get some for me, I made breakfast (I think I might have perfected my pancake recipe. I used to hate pancakes and I've come to realize that I don't hate pancakes, i hate Bisquick pancakes and I hate buttermilk pancakes. I love regular pancakes, especially regular pancakes with cinnamon, cardamom, ginger and orange zest in them. Not a lot, just a little, just enough to hint at something more interesting than pancakes). I woke David up with some coffee (I know! I actually MADE the coffe myself. It was too strong or something, but I thought it was okay), hustled his butt to the table for breakfast, even gave the dog a pancake (sans syrup) to bribe him to behave himself. (My good pal, Ethan, sent me hardcore full spectrum light bulbs. Not the cheapo full spectrums you get at the hardware store for a dollar but the ones so bright that they have the same color as sunlight and they make your house look like it is full of space ships when you see them from the outside. These bulbs have both science and magic in them!) I did 2 loads of dishes, 5 loads of laundry, colored 4 pictures, watched two movies, made Indian spiced basmati rice, made the bed, entertained the boy and talked on the phone. You really have no choice but to like a guy who reads you Grimm's Fairytales while you color in coloring books. I love these rambling, pointless posts. Fun to write, don't mean anything. Also, someone just described the Monte Cristo sandwich as 'The dessert meatwich'.

revelation

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Fellatio Horn = Stevie Nicks and/or Fleetwood Mac
This is what happens when you’re both tired and trying to recall all of the “Behind the Music’s” you’ve seen.
and…Finally saw ‘I <3 Huckabees'. Go see it. Jesus is mad at you!

how bad again?

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So we were standing around listening to him ramble on and on like he does, mostly justifying how he can’t possibly be as bad as people think. His main argument being “well, I’m not as bad as so-and-so” and “at least i don’t do ‘this or this'” and I was finally forced to tell him “just because you aren’t hitler doesn’t doesn’t mean you aren’t mussolini”
It’s a line I’ve used before on people, I think it’s pretty accurate.
Thing is, I’m pretty sure this guy might be the hitler of work. He was wrong about not being as bad as so-and-so, and he does things far far worse than ‘this or this’. There might be a bloodless coup, which would sadden me, as I love to watch the blood flow.