dreams


First, a random note.  I have this massive purple bruise on my left kneecap which looks like it clearly hurt when I did it, but I can’t for the life of me remember hitting it.  I was cleaning yesterday, so I’m sure I knocked it on something or other then, but yeah, I have no memory of it.

Okay, I promised escapades and a weird dream (but I have two of those now), so here we go.  My ex-husband still owns our old house in addition to his new house which is in the same neighborhood as the old one.  He hasn’t sold it yet because he doesn’t think he can get what he wants for it right now, so it’s sitting there vacant.  I’m sure the neighbors love that, but it’s been established that I’m a sucky neighbor, so I can’t talk.  Anyway, it’s over by two of Munchkin’s best friends.  One day, he was over there playing with one of the guys.  Later that day, Ex went over to check on some things at the house and found a grocery cart in the garage with a bunch of sodas and bags of chips and other assorted junkie foods in it.  He asked Munchkin if he knew anything about the cart.  Munch said no.  Ex said, “I’m going to ask one more time, and if you really don’t know anything, I need to call the police and have them look into this.”  So of course Munch fessed up that he and his friend had gone to the store and bought all the junk and were storing it in the garage for when they were playing in the area.  By the way, the garage has a keypad entry code thing on it, so you can get in without a key or opener as long as you know the code.  So Ex mentions that it’s theft to take a grocery cart off store property which he knows from the experience of one of his own escapades as a kid.  Munch took the cart back, but Ex didn’t make him go into the store and confess.  I would’ve made him do that!  Yep, so I have a wild onion barbequeing, grocery cart stealing teenager.  Lovely!

Weird dream number one:  In New Mexico, I had this dream that Frodo’s head was on a spinning wheel in a pond.  His body was floating nearby.  Sam came by and Frodo kept saying, “Sam, my body.”  So Sam chops Frodo’s head off the wheel and manages to reattach it to Frodo’s body.  Then Frodo was sitting there eating a sandwich with a rather messy stitch job on his neck.  His lips were a weird maroon color and looked kind of Joker-ish.  Needless to say, I’m a Tolkien nerd.  A sick Tolkien nerd.

Weird dream number two:  This one was last night.  I dreamed I was at D’s house, and I walked into the bathroom, you know, to pee.  The toilet was missing.  I said, “D, where’s the toilet?”  He came in and looked, and was all like, “Hunh.  I have no idea where it went,” like it wasn’t all that out of the ordinary for the toilet to get up and walk off for a bit.  Then my phone rang and woke me up.  It was D on his way to his concealed handgun license class.  Yes, he is a gun-toting maniac.  But anyway, why would I dream about a missing toilet?  What the heck does that mean?  

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I just ate the biggest burrito I’ve ever seen in my whole life.  I’m in Austin and Jason went to get us food from some Mexican restaurant.  This thing had to be eight inches by four inches and about three inches thick.  I put down a little more than half of it, and the next thing on our agenda is to go shopping for clothes.  I may not need new jeans.  The old ones may not be so baggy anymore.

The hair show on Tuesday was fun.  I was “Punk Girl”.  The make-up artist put red lipstick on my eyes which took three days to fully disappear.  I was like, “Really, how many times do I have to wash my face?”  The answer is eight.  One of the girls was still in high school, and she was like, “Um, I go to Highland Park* High School, and we don’t dress like this there.”  I thought, you know sweetheart, if you think I’ve ever dressed like this in my life or ever will again, you’re fucking kidding yourself.  She had trouble getting into the spirit of things.

One final note: my robo-mouth is done.  I’ve got the crowns and everything, so no more stupid mouthpiece.  When I’m brushing my teeth though, I keep reaching over to grab it and brush it too, but it’s not there anymore!  What a relief.  I’m getting the crowns redone though because the shape doesn’t match my other teeth perfectly.  I’m sorry, after spending $15,000 on my mouth over the past year, everything better be exactly how I want it.  So these crowns are temporary, but still, no more mouthpiece, yay!  Oh yeah, I had this dream last night that all my crowns (I have a total of six) fell off and I lost my wallet and couldn’t pay to get them back on.  Yikes!

*Highland Park is the snootiest area in Dallas.  This girl was sweet, but yeah, she was a little snotty too.

I dreamed last night that I went to Alaska with my parents.  For once, it wasn’t a bad flight dream (as in the plane didn’t crash as per usual), but rather it was a bad luggage experience.  The airline managed to lose my suitcase, my carry-on, my purse, and the clothes I was wearing.  You would think the last three things would be my responsibility, but apparently not so much.

So we got to our hotel, and I grabbed a towel from my room and put it on like a cape so we could go buy some clothes for me.  So many errors in judgement here.  First of all, a cape?  Really?  That covered like nothing.  Secondly, couldn’t I have just said, “Hey, here’s what size I wear, I need some pants and a shirt.  A bra and panties might be nice too, but I like to show off my non-existent boobs and go commando, so really, either way.”  Nah, in my world, we go shopping in a towel-cape down the streets of a town that looked suspiciously like “Northern Exposure” which is my only Alaska experience.

We were in this one store, and I found some shorts (logic, anyone?  It was freaking cold in this little town), but my mom found pink OU terrycloth flip-flop things.  She was all excited, and meanwhile, naked me just wants someone to buy me something to wear since my purse had yet to turn up.  So I asked my dad, “Hey Dad, will you buy this stuff for me please?”

He goes, “No, I don’t think so.”

WTF???  “Dad, I don’t have a purse, so I don’t have any money.”

“So?”

My mom got the flip-flops though.  Mmm, there is meaning to ponder there.  Or not.  I had a bunch of other dreams and in general slept like crap because I kept waking up from the weird dreams and then I couldn’t go back to sleep.  It sucked ass!  This was the only dream that I remember though.  Boy, if it’s any indication, the others must’ve been doozies.

I have blisters on the arches of my feet from my beautiful new skates.  You bastards!!!  *shakes fist at the heavens*  Yeah, it sucks.  A second ouchy thing is that my dog accidentally ran me into the stair post which is big and wide and solid wood.  My back hurts.  So I think that yesterday when I was skating, I was somehow compensating for my back with my ass.  Don’t ask how.  I do not know.  I do know that my butt hurts today.  It was very sore this morning, then fine during skating, and now it hurts again.  Actually, my whole lower body is pretty sore.  I would love a massage if I didn’t think that would hurt too.

Anyway … I’ve been looking for pink sheets for my bed.  Just ’cause.  Mostly I think because boys don’t really go for pink sheets so I haven’t had any since like college.  Now that it’s just me, I can have all the pink I want!  The problem was finding the exact right color of pink.  I like really pale pink, and I finally found some at Target.  The only problem with them is that the top sheet and the pillow cases have this ruffle on them.  Gaggers.  I’m not a ruffly or floral kind of girl.  Pottery Barn had some that were really cute with polka dots, but I’m not paying Pottery Barn prices for sheets.  That’s right, I’m cheap!

On the diet front, progress has been made.  I’ve lost 5.4 of the 8 pounds I gained.  My goal is to lose six more by my Cha Cha test which is November 4.  I had a bad dream about it on Friday night.  We (meaning me and my coach – I get to test with him, yay) finished the dance, and he said, “Not bad” which is like gushing praise from him.  Then the judge walked out on the ice and said, “I’m sorry, we won’t be able to pass you.  You didn’t do the Twizzles.”

I looked at D, who looked bewildered, and then I said, “What Twizzles?”  P.S., a Twizzle is like a moving pirouette.  Everyone hates them. 

She said, “We’ve added Twizzles here, and here, and here.”  She walked to each spot on the ice where the alleged Twizzles were to occur.

I’m standing there just thinking ‘what the hell?’.  There are no Twizzles in the Cha Cha!  I asked when they added them, and she said, “Oh last week.  You should’ve gotten a memo.  Too many people were passing this dance, and well, we can’t let just anyone pass the Cha Cha!”

Needless to say, I woke up in a cold sweat and ran downstairs to check my USFS rulebook just to make sure they hadn’t gone insane and added Twizzles to a low level dance.  They didn’t.  What a dork!

What sucks about this whole test is that I tried to take it last December, but when I failed the damn Dutch Waltz, I wasn’t allowed to take the Cha Cha test since it’s a level up.  I retook the Dutch Waltz in March, and probably should’ve signed up for the Cha Cha then, but I didn’t want to chance paying for it and not being allowed to take it again if I flunked.  Then this summer, I fell apart with a lack of ice, and the plan had been to take Cha Cha and Swing Dance in July I think.  So no test.  I missed the deadline anyway.  Then my Swing Dance fell apart, so here I am, taking a test that should’ve been over with almost a year ago.  Urgh!  Luckily the Swing Dance is coming back together, so maybe we’ll knock it out by February.  We’ll see though!  The good news is that I’m getting plenty of ice time now.  I want to get to where I’ve got one Bronze test out of the way by summer so I can compete at that level.  D may make me wait and have me compete at Pre-Bronze though.  Gross.  It’s a common practice, but one I don’t necessarily agree with or like.

My dentist appointment was rather sucky.  They were able to place the implant, but the bone isn’t healed enough yet to place the abutment (it’s this space capsule shaped thing that screws into the implant that spreads your gum tissue to keep it from shrinking).  Apparently the abutment weighs too much for my healing bone to bear it.  So it’s going to be a little longer than expected before I’m all finished.  I remember a little more than normal because they only let me take half a Halcion when I got to the office.  The one I took before I got there was apparently quite enough.  Hailey had to tell me how to take the second bit.  I remember looking at the pill in my hand and the little cup of water she gave me, and I was confused because it wasn’t my water bottle.  How was I supposed to take a pill without my water bottle?  I guess I looked at her funny because she went, “You might want to put the pill in your mouth and then drink the water.”  Oh, okay.  That’s how it works.  I also remember getting the shots, but not much after that until I went to bed at home.  My mom got me up at three so she could go home, and I stayed awake for about thirty minutes.  I woke up again around seven.  I spent the rest of the evening in a stupor, watching Big Brother, Sleeping with the Enemy, and Stick It.  So I finally went to bed for real around one.  I had bizarre dreams, including one where the ex-boyfriend showed up and said he was taking the house and the dog.  Uh, I think not!

Needless to say, I didn’t sleep well, so when my phone rang at eight, I wasn’t a happy camper.  I had to answer it though, because it was Ex-Husband, and he normally only calls that early if Munchkin is sick.  Well, Munchkin isn’t sick.  No, he waited until this morning to give his progress report to his dad.  Most of it was just fine with a mix of A’s and B’s.  There was, of course, one glaring exception.  He has a 53 (a 53!!!) in Language Arts.  He had a 100 for his homework grade, and then three zeroes.  The zeroes were in projects that clearly are a large part of his grade.

Confession:  I must suck as a mother because I had no freaking idea that this kid had any projects due.  Everyday, I ask how much homework he has, and what subjects, and he goes to work.  He tells me he’s done with everything, and I sit there like the biggest sucker in the world believing him.  We put the kid on speaker phone and proceeded to tag-team him, trying to get to the bottom of this crap.

Me:  What were these projects?

Munchkin:  Book reports.

Ex:  What books did you read?

Munch:  We had forty-four to choose from.

Me:  Well, what did you choose?

Munch:  It doesn’t matter.

Me:  Yes it does.  I want to know what books you read.  And by the way, what happened to the reports?

Munch:  They disappeared.

Me:  They dis-a-peeeeered?

Ex:  How did they disappear?

Munch:  I don’t know, they just did.

Me:  Where did they disappear from?

Munch:  I don’t know.

And on and on, like that for thirty minutes.  We were finally able to ascertain that one book was of their choosing rather than on the list.  He was reading it over here.  It’s on my nightstand at the moment, and it’s about 80% finished according to the bookmark.  It turns out he never read a book off his teacher’s list for the second book report.  He finally confessed to never writing the reports either, but boy did he stick to that mysterious disappearance theory for a looooong time.  Oh, and I still don’t have a clear understanding as to what the third zero was for.

I’m shocked and appalled.  First of all, I feel like shit for not knowing he had these projects.  I also feel like shit that he didn’t think he could come to me and say he was behind and needed help.  Second of all, I’m just completely baffled as to how he could just not do the work.  I mean, I have turned in some shoddy work in my time, including a thirty page paper on the Iran-Contra Affair for a poli-sci class in college that I wrote in two nights.  I got a D+ on it.  What the hell is the plus for?  Just give me an F and be done with it.  But I turned that piece of shit in.  Anyway, thirdly, I don’t understand how he thought he was going to get away with it.  Did he think we wouldn’t notice?  Apparently.  I think that’s sad, and that just contributes to my feelings of being a self-absorbed piece of crap mother.

In the end, we have decided on the following punishments:

1.  Munchkin is grounded.  Duh.  But he’s not the kind of grounded where he goes to his room because he’ll just go to sleep in there.  Nope, he’s the kind of grounded where he gets to sit at my desk in the family room and do homework and read and study until his eyeballs bleed.

2.  Once his eyeballs have bled, he gets to either a) clean his room at his dad’s if he’s there or b) clean whatever I tell him to at my house.  We’ll start with his room, and then he can scoop dog poop.  It just goes downhill from there.  I have a father who once made me clean out the grooves of the little rubber seal that goes around the fridge door with a Q-tip.  He said, “Nobody will notice if you do it, but everyone will notice if you don’t.”  Really Dad?  To this day, I have never checked the grooves in somebody’s door seal to see if they were up to snuff.  Needless to say, thanks to my crazy parents, I can find a cleaning project where none is to be had.

3.  No soccer until his grades are back up.

4.  As he is obviously not ready to be treated like he has any sense of responsibility, we will be checking his backpack everyday.  He has to write down all assignments, homework, test dates, and projects.  And we have to check all his work.  This means we’re having to trust him to actually write down all the work, but I think he understands we’re serious.

5.  He’s writing apology notes to his soccer coach for not being able to play and for screwing up the roster, and to his Language Arts teacher for not doing the assignments.

6.  He’s doing the damn assignments whether he gets one point of credit or not.  This one was my mom’s idea.  I gotta say, way to go Mom!  That’s using your evil genius!

We also have an appointment with the school counselor tomorrow morning.  This is kind of an ongoing problem.  Not the deal with not turning stuff in – I mean more the problem of not applying himself, not pushing himself, and not expecting more out of himself.  It’s like if it’s going to take more than five minutes of effort, he won’t do it.  This kid is in all AP classes because that’s what his teacher’s recommended.  He got good grades on what he did turn in.  His homework grades were all good, but his test scores fell a bit from his homework scores.  That just tells me he’s not studying for his tests, and he’s not checking his work on his tests (that’s always been a problem).  I want to know why he’s like this.  He’s in seventh grade and he says stuff like, “I’m dropping out of school.  I don’t want to go to college.”  Maybe he needs therapy.  I don’t know.

Shit.  He’s too smart for this garbage.  Oh, I forgot to mention that in the middle of the phone call, he faked a heart attack so we’d stop talking about it.  “Oh my God, something’s very wrong!  My chest hurts!!!  An elephant is sitting on my heart!  No, really, I’m dying here!”  I’ve got my work cut out for me.  

The alarm guy is here installing an extra keypad upstairs and some other little things.  So while he does that, I will do this.  I’ve been reading this book called “It’s About Your Husband” by Lauren Lipton.  It’s total fluff which is fine by me when I need a break from reading things that are too serious.  The book I read before this one was very serious – it was about a mother and daughter and what they went through with the daughter’s drug and alcohol addiction.  It was good as far as being compelling reading, but their writing style (they team-wrote it) was very bland.  I don’t think they wrote about a single smell other than when the daughter chose to quit bathing for two months … anyway, after reading a book like that, I wanted a fun, light read.

You know, there is a very big difference between fun, light reading that is quality and that which is crap.  This book definitely fell into the craptacular file.  It was so bad that last night I finally decided that I was going to jump ahead, confirm my suspicions of what was going to happen in the book, and put myself out of my misery.  I was right about the ending, so I feel justified in my actions.  I wish she could’ve surprised me somehow, but I knew it wasn’t going to happen.  She hadn’t yet, so why start being Tricksy Magoo at the last possible second?  The actual writing wasn’t too bad – it was just so bloody predictable.  On top of that, it was not really at all plausible, therefore, I quit the book!  I am curious, though, about how it is that she and I both came to the same unrealistic conclusion for her characters.  Hmm, strange.

Luckily for me, my new books that I ordered arrived today.  I got “Night Fall” by Nelson DeMille, “How to Write Science Fiction and Fantasy” by Orson Scott Card, and “Characters and Viewpoint” also by Orson Scott Card.  I’ve never written anything Sci-Fi/Fantasy, but I’ve always wanted to.  No, that’s not true.  I wrote a little fantasy when I was a kid and when I was in high school.  I really enjoy reading the genre, particularly (no surprises coming here) Tolkien and J.K. Rowling.  Speaking of my writing, I’ve only written short stories – no novels.  I’d love to write a novel.  However, in all honesty, I haven’t written a short story or anything other than a short little character bit or a tiny idea scribble in two years.  That’s just awful, I know.  Maybe this will get me back in the habit of daily writing which would help a ton!

And last for today, a weird dream I had last night:  I dreamed I was at a wedding with my ex-husband.  Oh dear Lord, help me, how gross!  We walked into the church, and this couple we used to know (who divorced years and years ago – he’s now on marriage number three, persistent little fucker) were the ones getting married.  Strangely, they were sitting in the pews, third row, he in a suit, she in a white sundress.  We said hello and then went to find seats.  Our son appeared out of nowhere and led us to the balcony area.  We saw my parents across the church and waved.  All seemed well if you leave out the bit where I was very confused about being anywhere with the ex. 

Blake and Kim took their places at the front of the church, simply by walking from the third row up to the front together, and the ceremony began.  We could hardly hear the preacher.  Kim’s dress changed into a rather unattractive green suit, and she was wearing an enormous white straw hat with a pink veil.  I was trying not to laugh when an alarm pierced the air.  We were all looking around, trying to figure out what it was, and then the preacher said it was the fire alarm and we had to evacuate.  People panicked, but since we were in the balcony, it was easier for us to get out, thanks to a thoughtfully placed exit right by our seats (thank you, Dream Control Central – and thanks to Jake Johannsen for that expression).  By the time we got outside, they decided it was a false alarm and we all headed back in.  Kim was waiting at the door, this time in a more traditional wedding dress with a sweetheart neckline.

We took our seats once again, and out of nowhere my ex starts yelling at me, “I don’t want to have sex with you!  Please get the idea out of your head!”

I yelled back, “What are you talking about?  I already had the miserable experience of having sex with you for nine years!  Why would I want to do that to myself again?”

And then I woke up.  Very disturbing to say the least.  *shivers up my spine*