wild dreams

This week at work has been full of highs and lows.  A certain analysis that my work buddy used to do with a certain infuriatingly simple tech has now become my responsibility, for better or worse.  Mostly worse.  Thankfully, my week was interrupted a bit, what with taking my dad to the airport and all.  And then there was more snow.  Because SC just can’t get enough snow in March.  That really was bananas.

But I had some pretty interesting dreams this week.  I haven’t been getting enough sleep, but when I sleep, I’m definitely getting to REM – which is good.  And the dreams have been good, too.

Last week I was talking to a friend on FB, an old obnoxious [in a good way] friend, who teases me about a guy I’ve been friends with for the last…oh…man…it’s been a long time.  She asked when we’re getting married, I told her a quarter past never, and we went on catching up.  Then I happened to see him this past weekend, and he told me he was moving away.  He’s said this before, but this time is for real, and I can tell.  He’s been teaching for a couple years and it’s time for him to do something else.  And my brain came up with this:

J and I are spies – like real martial arts knowing, trench coat wearing, clandestine spies.  I was on a mission and ended up having a rendezvous with him to get some information before we infiltrated a huge multi-school swim meet that had undercover enemy agents posing as some of the students.  We prepped for the job and went to the meet which had a pool bigger than Olympic size – enormous, really.  There were hundreds of kids there ready to race and they were going to have to put several in a lane.  We split up, and I went up on the bleachers to scan the crowd and meet up with another operative…who turned out to be Malik Yoba [who I had a crush on when I was like…16].  At this point I have no idea where J is – he’s in the crowd somewhere – and I don’t really care.  Who knew Malik Yoba was in the agency, right?  So then he leans towards me to give me an update, and whispers some stuff in my ear.  And he says we’re supposed to have some type of pretense for this, so to make things look realistic, he starts kissing my neck.  At this point I’m semi-aware that it’s a dream, because I’m like: “screw being a spy, lemme just make out with Malik Yoba!”  So – of course – the dream ends.

Well, actually, it morphs.  Now I’m with some friends who have a 1 1/2 yr old girl who is my god-daughter.  We’ve been kidnapped by some gangster looking dudes [not like a Mafia gangster, more like  a Folk Nation gangster], and we’re in a shady neighborhood in an empty house.  S has been forced to wash dishes while N holds the baby and fills the recycling bin, and I’m outside with these big dudes and they’ve got a moving truck out there and they’re making me bring small furniture in the house.

I didn’t say all my dreams make sense.

A couple days later, I dreamt that my sister and I were in a huge house in the woods, with a bunch of young people – little kids to young adults.  The walls of the entire first floor of the house are glass, so you can see outside and look into the woods.  It’s really beautiful.  Also, each room with an outside wall has a door with a crash bar.  I’m not sure why – but they all do.  There are lots of people milling about the house, inside and out, upstairs and down.  It seems as though we’re not sure why we’re there.  So as my sis and I wander around looking over the place, we get back into what looks like a pretty big master bedroom.  We’re admiring the scenery, when we both spot a little boy, probably about 4, cute as a button, wearing a little bear costume.  It shows his face, but it’s got a lil hood that’s on his head and has the cutest lil ears…he’s adorable.  And he’s outside, pretending to be a bear, and do bear things.  So he’s picked up a branch and is shaking it back and forth, trying to act all strong.  Then I notice something off in the periphery – it’s a tall, kinda-skinny-for-a-bear, bear.  A real bear.  So I start waving my arms and trying to get the little boy to notice and get him out of there,  But he’s gotten stuck under a heavier branch he was trying to move and I’m starting to freak out.  But a bigger kid [also in a bear costume] runs up and gets him and runs off in the opposite direction.  Meanwhile, the actual bear has seen me waving my arms and making a ruckus and is now trying to get in the house, using the door.  I’m a little terrified as I’m watching him shake that door, and he keeps shaking it until it opens!  This is when I grab my sister and we run from the room, slamming the door behind us, yelling that there a bear in the house.

I woke up after that, thinking, “people in glass houses shouldn’t build in the woods.  because bears live there.”

————————————————————————————

Apparently the weird dreams are contagious, because today N (from dream #2) called me to tell me she had a bizarre dream about me last night.  When I first moved to Podunk, my pastor sat down across from me one week and said, “May I ask you a personal question?”  I said, “Ok, I guess, ” wondering what was coming, as this guy didn’t even really know me yet.  “Do you want to get married?” he asks.  Huh?  What?  Yeah – that’s what he asked.  Not for himself – he’s old and married.  But anyway, I told him I wasn’t on a marriage quest, but I’m not opposed to the idea.  At that time I had no idea that his son, D,  is a young, unmarried, uncute pastor. [Uncute, but not ugly.  Just…his face his kinda…off.  Not like – he has no face.  There’s just something off about it.  And I have hangups about the face.] And he really wants his son to get married.  A lot.  Another single girl moved here, and he kept talking about how she needed to meet his son.  Unfortunately for him, she ended up finding a dude on her own.  Well, in N’s dream, we were in the Philippines [where she’s from] with her family, and the pastor and his family, and me.  No idea why we were there.  I was holding my god-daughter and talking with N, when D came up to stand next to me as we were talking.  At some point, N realized that we were ‘together’.  And I think she started freaking out a little inside, because this is so far from reality.  So then I hand the baby back to N, and D gets down on one knee and proposes.  Inexplicably, I say yes.

Obvious that this was her dream, not mine.  In mine, Malik Yoba was kissing my neck.  That was a good dream.

facebook rules

friendster

first there was...

facebook

what's next?

Social networking is an interesting beast, and it continues to evolve.  I know I’ve dipped my toe in many a construct [friendster, opendiary, livejournal, myspace, facebook], but I’ve learned a thing or two, having tried these things for a while.  So here are my rules:

1.  I am not here to meet new people – if I don’t know you, I never will.  This is not to say that I’m opposed to meeting new people in real life.  Or even online.  But there must be a connection between us – we must have already had some conersation – before I will friend you on facebook.  And even then, that’s not a guarantee.

2.  If I know you IRL and you are under 21, we can’t be friends.  Pretty much ever.  I have made special exceptions for a couple people due to needing to keep up with one, and the other needing an adult female role model/support person.  Otherwise, chickadees, you have been/will be relegated to facebook limbo.

3.  If I know you IRL and you are the age of my parents, we can’t be friends.  Period.  This is because we are *not* friends.  At some point, there may be exceptions made for coworkers.  As of yet, there has been no need, as my older coworkers are not on facebook.

4.  If we weren’t friends then, we’re not friends now. When I was a kid, there were some kids who were mean to me.  I’m not special – this happens to everyone.  But I wasn’t friends with those mean kids.  So why would I be now?

The rules are simple, and I don’t believe them to be harsh.  They serve the purpose of allowing me to continue to be myself without self-censoring due to sensitive old people/minors/people who I know have something other than my best interest at heart.

Facebook has been an awesome tool to allow me to get back in touch with people as far back as elementary school, as well as a huge time suck since I’ve become embroiled in a few games such as Bejeweled Blitz and WordTwist.  But sometimes it’s just nice to look at pictures of all my friends’ babies, too.

Right now I’ve got 12 people in limbo.  I haven’t got the heart to simply ignore them, so there they sit – some for at least a year.  But I’m ok with that.

when my words fail

When you tell me you can’t depend on your family.

When others keep saying we’ll end up married.

When I got my job.  When you got yours.

When you lost your job.  When I lost mine.

When we drifted so far apart I didn’t know what would happen to us.

When we had that one night of connection after so long.

When you’re the only person to understand me.

When you’ve completely closed me off because you’re hurting too much.

When I can’t begin to know your loss.

May my silence with you be enough.

babies: the new lame

I’ve had an ebb and flow of popularity in my life.  Certain ages/places/times I was hot-like-fire, and other times not so much.  It’s interested to me how the excuses from my lamer friends have changed over the years.  These days – it’s babies.

Babies are little bundles of joy that come into one’s life bringing beauty, love, and a completely different perspective. [Not to mention all that other stuff that you’re probably thinking about – the scariest possibility to me being the episiotomy.]  But you know what happens when your friends have babies, right?

First, they go underground for a couple months.  This is cuz they’re not sleeping, and sometimes they don’t know if it’s day or night – so they just don’t bother going out unless they need food or diapers.  The only way to see them during this time is to visit.

After the first couple months, the parents will take the baby different places, but it’s a huge chore because babies have a lot of accessories.  They’re sleeping a bit more, but they’re still tired all the time.  By now they’re comfortable having those disjointed parental conversations where they talk to you about their kid but interrupt themselves by talking to their kid and ensuring that the baby’s not wet/hungry/thirsty/ill/gassy or otherwise distressed.  This interruptalk is permanent and may never really fade.

Reaching closer to the one year mark is cool, because there’s this window when the child is a tad bit more autonomous, but not entirely fluent.  From about 10months to around two, parents feel like they can still periodically go out and be cool as long as they have  a trustworthy babysitter.  Sometimes even up to 3yrs old.

After the 3rd bday, tho, parents are fully entrenched – and if they haven’t already had their 2nd, they’re thinking/talking about it.  During this time they may let you in on the info – they’re “trying” again.

That’s probably not something you wanted to know, because now, if you’re single, you’ve probably got at least a shadowy picture of this couple having sex in your head.  The more they talk about ‘trying’, the more detailed that picture gets.  And the more you wonder if you can exorcise these images enough to remain friends without feeling weird around them.  [I don’t know what pictures – if any – you get if you’re married.]

Anyway, now events are planned to consider whether childcare is available, whether children are allowed, or whether the entertainment is age-appropriate.  Other considerations include bathroom facilities, white furniture, and the proximity of other children or toys.

So, if you live in a less metropolitan area, where people get married and have babies fairly early [as opposed to say, after 30], you may be familiar with the boat I’m in.  Namely, that which has christened nearly every one of my friends and acquaintances as established families, new parents, or expecting.

Thankfully, I really like kids – so it works out.  I just didn’t expect them to change my life so much prior to me having any of my own.