This morning I had a dream about Ex-Friend. We were in some sort of cafeteria-style restaurant/open market place getting lunch together and we were in line for the cash register.
Throughout the dream EF had been standing behind me, and every once in a while he'd accidentally -- and I really mean accidentally, not one of those oops! did I do that? kind of accidentallys -- brush the back of my knee as we were walking around. But somehow, when we got in line to pay for our food, he'd gotten in front of me, and it was me who accidentally brushed the back of his knee with my bag (or something; I don't remember exactly what).
The worst part? I could smell him. When he was standing in front of me, I could breathe him in. The scent was so real and so familiar. And although I was nowhere near ready to wake up (as far as how many hours of sleep a girl of a certain age may require on any given night), in my dream I was aware enough of how dangerous it could be to become comfortable and familiar again with EF that I literally dragged myself out of my dream to wakefulness -- almost an hour before my alarm was set to go off!
O.K., so, damn for that! And double-damn for the fact that I had this dream in the first place! And triple damn that I couldn't shake the dream afterwards and so lay in bed panicked for the next forty two minutes!
I blame this week's episode of Gilmore girls. It set me up to have this dream. (If you watch the show, you'll know what I'm talking about. And just in case you taped the show and haven't watched it yet, I'm not gonna explain further here.)
Thursday, April 26, 2007
Thursday, April 12, 2007
I've been smoking lately...a lot...DAMN.
See, here's the thing: My current roommate has a boyfriend who lives in this lovely little coastal town in California. My roommate is a smoker. Her boyfriend is a smoker. And while I'm in total denial as to whether I'm a smoker or not, generally I only smoke when I'm hanging out with them, which is about once a week.
For instance, this past week I didn't have a single, solitary puff of anything remotely cigarette-esque. I'm sure I was exposed to myriad other carcinogens 'cause, well, hey, let's face it, everything causes cancer these days. Even so, I go down on Saturday night to Roommate's Boyfriend's house, and on my way feel obligated to buy two packs of cigarettes. Two! Two, I tell ya!
Why two, you may ask? Because, silly rabbit! For those of us who are "social smokers," half the fun is trying out different kinds of flavored cigarettes, even though they're generally stronger, and the next morning you feel like you've been living in a coal mine for the past twenty years. (Not that I would have any idea what that would actually feel like, but I have a fairly vivid imagination.) So I had to buy the cherry flavored pack -- which, by the way, are totally YUM! -- and then I had to get the Export A Extra Lights for my cool, unflavored pack.
And guess what? Between the three of us, we managed to polish off the entire pack of cherry cigarettes, and I smoked half a pack of my Extra Lights on top of that! DAMN!
And, yes, this morning I woke up feeling like I'd spent the last twenty years living in a coal mine. I even noticed that I was wheezing a bit all day today. There's this little whistle thing that's really fucking annoying and makes me feel like I'm the sad, sick character on a bad reality TV show that everyone's supposed to start out making fun of but later rediscovers their own humanity through witnessing my own personal, tortured journey.
And did I mention DAMN? I mean, seriously, DAMN! That's a lot of fucking smoking in about a seven and a half hour period!
*sigh*
I have to quit giving into peer pressure.
See, here's the thing: My current roommate has a boyfriend who lives in this lovely little coastal town in California. My roommate is a smoker. Her boyfriend is a smoker. And while I'm in total denial as to whether I'm a smoker or not, generally I only smoke when I'm hanging out with them, which is about once a week.
For instance, this past week I didn't have a single, solitary puff of anything remotely cigarette-esque. I'm sure I was exposed to myriad other carcinogens 'cause, well, hey, let's face it, everything causes cancer these days. Even so, I go down on Saturday night to Roommate's Boyfriend's house, and on my way feel obligated to buy two packs of cigarettes. Two! Two, I tell ya!
Why two, you may ask? Because, silly rabbit! For those of us who are "social smokers," half the fun is trying out different kinds of flavored cigarettes, even though they're generally stronger, and the next morning you feel like you've been living in a coal mine for the past twenty years. (Not that I would have any idea what that would actually feel like, but I have a fairly vivid imagination.) So I had to buy the cherry flavored pack -- which, by the way, are totally YUM! -- and then I had to get the Export A Extra Lights for my cool, unflavored pack.
And guess what? Between the three of us, we managed to polish off the entire pack of cherry cigarettes, and I smoked half a pack of my Extra Lights on top of that! DAMN!
And, yes, this morning I woke up feeling like I'd spent the last twenty years living in a coal mine. I even noticed that I was wheezing a bit all day today. There's this little whistle thing that's really fucking annoying and makes me feel like I'm the sad, sick character on a bad reality TV show that everyone's supposed to start out making fun of but later rediscovers their own humanity through witnessing my own personal, tortured journey.
And did I mention DAMN? I mean, seriously, DAMN! That's a lot of fucking smoking in about a seven and a half hour period!
*sigh*
I have to quit giving into peer pressure.
Tuesday, April 3, 2007
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
I had the most delicious dream this morning about a friend of mine that I never, ever, EVER, in a million years would consider hooking up with. But, I gotta tell ya, this dream was just what the proverbial doctor ordered!
Let me be very clear, here: It was not dirty, or sleazy, or even particularly suggestive. So, then, what was it, you might ask?
Well, let me tell ya.
It was comforting and loving and endearing -- all of those things that a single girl misses when she has nary a semblance of a relationship in the works, and all of the things that a sorta single girl hunts and digs for in her existing relationship but can't seem to find, not to mention all of the things that a definitely not single girl means when she says something is missing from her relationship (unless, of course, she unwittingly is dating a gay man; then that something missing might just simply be sex).
The best part of the dream wasn't that we made out or anything, 'cause we didn't. It was simply this:
I walked up to him to put my hand through his arm and rest my head on his shoulder while we were waiting for these movers (don't ask; would require a much more detailed explanation of the dream, and isn't really the point here) to finish what they were doing. And when I'd been standing that way for a while and started to pull away to go pick out a DVD to watch (again, not explaining the DVD side story at this stage), he ever-so-slightly tightened his arm, keeping me with him, making me feel safe and embraced and loved.
Fellas, truly, it's the simplest things...
Let me be very clear, here: It was not dirty, or sleazy, or even particularly suggestive. So, then, what was it, you might ask?
Well, let me tell ya.
It was comforting and loving and endearing -- all of those things that a single girl misses when she has nary a semblance of a relationship in the works, and all of the things that a sorta single girl hunts and digs for in her existing relationship but can't seem to find, not to mention all of the things that a definitely not single girl means when she says something is missing from her relationship (unless, of course, she unwittingly is dating a gay man; then that something missing might just simply be sex).
The best part of the dream wasn't that we made out or anything, 'cause we didn't. It was simply this:
I walked up to him to put my hand through his arm and rest my head on his shoulder while we were waiting for these movers (don't ask; would require a much more detailed explanation of the dream, and isn't really the point here) to finish what they were doing. And when I'd been standing that way for a while and started to pull away to go pick out a DVD to watch (again, not explaining the DVD side story at this stage), he ever-so-slightly tightened his arm, keeping me with him, making me feel safe and embraced and loved.
Fellas, truly, it's the simplest things...
Saturday, March 24, 2007
you're leaving
i know you are
you don’t even have to say it
you could even not know it yet
but you’re leaving, i swear
you can lay along the couch
speaking nonsense about nothing
i'll sit across from you
gently smiling
genuinely interested
but constantly distracted
waiting for you to leave
you’re going
you’re already out the door
i have the feeling
i'll not be seeing you anymore
you may not realize it yet
but you’re going, i swear
you can speak reassuring words
talk on and on about importance
i'll listen and wish to believe you
all the while resigned
to an empty night
i don’t know how to be
i've gotten so used to you
foolish me, letting my fingers
reach out to dip into our smile
what was i thinking
i should have remembered
that, eventually, you’d away
you’re done
though i can see you
you’re no longer here
you still don’t know it
i cannot be for you
dearest
you don’t see or hear me
never thought i'd be weak like this
never thought i'd hold on so tight
while pushing into that cold room where i stay locked away
i know you are
you don’t even have to say it
you could even not know it yet
but you’re leaving, i swear
you can lay along the couch
speaking nonsense about nothing
i'll sit across from you
gently smiling
genuinely interested
but constantly distracted
waiting for you to leave
you’re going
you’re already out the door
i have the feeling
i'll not be seeing you anymore
you may not realize it yet
but you’re going, i swear
you can speak reassuring words
talk on and on about importance
i'll listen and wish to believe you
all the while resigned
to an empty night
i don’t know how to be
i've gotten so used to you
foolish me, letting my fingers
reach out to dip into our smile
what was i thinking
i should have remembered
that, eventually, you’d away
you’re done
though i can see you
you’re no longer here
you still don’t know it
i cannot be for you
dearest
you don’t see or hear me
never thought i'd be weak like this
never thought i'd hold on so tight
while pushing into that cold room where i stay locked away
Sunday, March 11, 2007
I've been thwarted!
I'll admit it: I love chick lit. Bridget Jones's multiple diaries were like a balm to me. So when I found the blog "The Company Bitch," I was in girl-drama heaven! The writing was funny and witty, and after having read her for so long, I felt like I knew the characters/people that she wrote about.
Today, tho', I went to catch up with the CB, and she has apparently set her blog so that only invited readers can read her blog.
What????
Doesn't that kind of defeat the purpose of writing a blog? I mean, don't most of us do this 'cause we want to share our thoughts with other people?
I gotta say, I know I need to get a grip, but I'm feeling kinda betrayed, here! Damn!
O.K., kiddies, it's bed time for Gonzo. Sweet dreams!
I'll admit it: I love chick lit. Bridget Jones's multiple diaries were like a balm to me. So when I found the blog "The Company Bitch," I was in girl-drama heaven! The writing was funny and witty, and after having read her for so long, I felt like I knew the characters/people that she wrote about.
Today, tho', I went to catch up with the CB, and she has apparently set her blog so that only invited readers can read her blog.
What????
Doesn't that kind of defeat the purpose of writing a blog? I mean, don't most of us do this 'cause we want to share our thoughts with other people?
I gotta say, I know I need to get a grip, but I'm feeling kinda betrayed, here! Damn!
O.K., kiddies, it's bed time for Gonzo. Sweet dreams!
Saturday, March 3, 2007
I'm so tired.
I was watching a 1996 George Carlin special on HBO with a couple of friends, kickin' back in this not-so-comfortable recliner, and I couldn't help but start to fall asleep. I fought it and fought it, trying to be especially conscientious of any potential snoring-esque emittances, but at long last I succumbed to the reality of the situation. I rather abruptly stood up and announced, "I'm leaving."
I think I surprised my friends.
Of course, now, having driven home, I'm ever-so-slightly more alert, but still completely exhausted, yet too awake now to actually sleep. Damn.
Y'know what? I'm gonna try anyway -- damn the consequences!
I was watching a 1996 George Carlin special on HBO with a couple of friends, kickin' back in this not-so-comfortable recliner, and I couldn't help but start to fall asleep. I fought it and fought it, trying to be especially conscientious of any potential snoring-esque emittances, but at long last I succumbed to the reality of the situation. I rather abruptly stood up and announced, "I'm leaving."
I think I surprised my friends.
Of course, now, having driven home, I'm ever-so-slightly more alert, but still completely exhausted, yet too awake now to actually sleep. Damn.
Y'know what? I'm gonna try anyway -- damn the consequences!
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