Dream Weaver

It's colder than penguin snot in the holler today, but it's supposed to be nice for a part of the weekend. Maybe I can get off my big butt and get some stuff done.

We finally took the Christmas tree out the other night. It's been standing naked and dead in the corner of the living room since the first of the year. TA was building a fire pit and wanted to chop the tree and burn it for a New Years something or other, then she got the Hamthrax and damned near pewped herself to death for two weeks. So now there's a half dug hole surrounded by rocks in the front yard, with a crap ton of old pallets leaning against the front porch and a dead tree in the back  yard.

You will have no trouble trying to find my house if you decide to stalk me.

I've been fighting with prescriptions the past two weeks. I'm out of Colcrys and Takeda has denied my new application for patient assistance, siting the Affordable Care Act as the reason. They're sending me a new "financial harship" form to fill out, which I will, but if I have to pay full price, I'm screwed. I'm already looking in to getting it from a Canadian pharmacy.

Ridiculous.

I need to do my taxes this weekend. It won't take long but I'm so brain drained by the time I get off from The Asylum each day that I can't bear the thought of trying to muddle through tax returns. Fingers crossed that I'll have enough to get a wood stove. I've looked at used ones, but they're all ginormous and will probably burn the trailer down. New, "mobile home" approved models are expensive. I'm still debating whether to just fire up the oil furnace. I hate the thoughts of buying oil, but I'm about to admit defeat. It's such a pain in the keister to order oil in the holler. We don't have good credit with them anymore, Ma saw to that, so I have to pay for it all when it's delivered. For them to drive to the holler, I have to buy a minimum.. I don't remember how much but it's about $300 worth.

It's almost spring anyway. Who knows what might happen between now and next winter?

Ma called from Shady Pines yesterday. She said she needed me to come pick her up from work, that her legs won't work, she can't walk and she doesn't know why. She's been like this since Christmas.. talking out of her head and running wheel chair laps around the home. They've run tests, there's nothing "medically" wrong, it's just her crazy.

I was a wreck after talking to her. I know when she's like that, she's legitimately afraid and there's not a damned thing I can do about it.

I still daydream about horses and having a place for them to live, but I don't stare hopelessly at photos of the ginormous seaside ranch for sale east of here. Now I look at Google Earth (and drive by, like a creeper)  at Mamaws old farm house and plan where I'd put my big run in shed, where the fence would go and what color I'd paint the house. I suppose it's in the realm of possibilities. When Mamaw died, she left the old dairy farm (30 acres worth) to both my dad and his younger brother. It's not divided between them, they both own it. If he kicks the bucket and he doesn't have a will, would his part not go to me?

Realisticly speaking, he probably does have a will so that his part would go to his nephews, but I like to hold on to the hope that maybe he'll develop a conscience on his deathbed and leave it to me, along with a couple hundred K to fix it up with.

A girl's gotta dream right?

Anywho...

I'd better get on with the day. We'll talk again soon.

Later Taters!

Sweet Dreams Are Made of These

“All people dream, but not equally.
Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their mind, wake in the
morning to find that it was vanity. But the dreamers of the day are dangerous
people, For they dream their dreams with open eyes, And make them come
true.” 
― D.H. Lawrence

I've written about wanting to move to back to the coast before and I've rattled on about horses until I've bored the entirety of the innerwebs to tears. For years I've daydreamed of a little white house at the end of a dead end road, a property bordered by trees and sitting close enough to the coast to see the water. I had it all planned out in my crazy little head, although I'd never worked out how it was going to happen. I imagined a large yard, fenced for the dogs, enough land for a few horses and I'd work from home where I wouldn't have to deal with office politics or the latest incarnation of the demon Bossholio.

I just can't see myself staying here until I die after Ma's gone from this earth.

I had even accepted that I'd have to stay here, close to family and The Amazon. I'd looked at farms in the areas around the holler but.. after a while it just became so depressing. Everything was either snakey looking or so far up the mountain that if I fell in the yard, no one would find me for days. Most had no cell service or internet and were listed as "homesteaders paradise."

I am in not in any condition to be splitting wood, peeing in a garden shed or being holed up for months, waiting for the spring thaw just to go to the bottom of the mountain to pick up my mail. That might be some folks idea of paradise, but it's not mine.

And so, I'd go back to my dream.

I knew the chances of finding a property with both farm and coast would be near impossible. People have beach houses or they have a farm, no one has both.

I wanted a small community, remote enough for loads of privacy, yet close enough to "town" to have internet access, cable tv and cell phone service. Sometimes, when life gets to be a little more challenging than usual, I go on Google Earth and webstalk the coast of Virginia and North Carolina, looking for a  community that might have a property would make my dreams a reality.

Then I found this:
http://waterfrontacreageeastofbeaufortnc.com/index.htm#house

The virtual tour is awesome, but note that the house has been put back on the market and has considerable wear and tear since this was made.

How will I afford it?

I don't know. By the time I can,  there's no guarantee that it will even be available and I know, as reality goes, the logical chances of my ever having this place are slim and none, but money? It's just money. Amazing things can happen in ways you never thought possible. I'll keep dreaming.

Vampires, Werewolves and Buying Groceries in a Cave

Nothing was accomplished this weekend. I slept 'til noon Saturday. NOON. Then? I took a mid afternoon nap. I got up at eleven yesterday. I took another nap later in the day, then slept all night and had to fight to get out of bed this morning.

At least I'm not nodding off at my desk while up to my bootay in alligators like last Thursday and Friday.

But anywho..

All that sleeping made for some weird dreams about Gypsies in red standing over me, grocery shopping down on the reservation, exploring caves, looking for artifacts with a big, burly (sexy) guide and a giant stack of black and white photos of war prisoners.. which I gave to the Gypsy's daughter.

Oh yeah.. it was all the same dream.

All that exploring, shopping and mystery solving was hard work. It's no wonder I never felt rested.

Then? Last night I dreamed I lied to the authorities in a French speaking country while on vacation so that I could illegally obtain a Golden Retriever that they were going to put down. She had weird, mitten type bandages taped to her feet.

The only thing I really sat down and watched on t.v. this weekend was "Rise of the Lycans," twice. But do I dream about vampires or sexy, hairy, barechested, werewolf/human hybrids? Nope. I dream about Golden Retrievers.

Gypsies don't even wear red.. do they?

I dunno.. maybe I was hitting the Pepto Bismal too hard.

Ya'll have a good week. We'll talk again after I clear the cobwebs. Am I even awake now?

Later Taters.

Do They Make a Pill for That?

Don't you hate when you have a weird dream that stays with you all day, messing with your head and throwing your whole psyche out of whack?

A sex dream even.

With a toothless, old, bald, nasty lookin' truck driver that I picked up on the internet. He reminded me of my Mamaw when her mind got too far gone and she stopped putting her teeth in. He was gummin' and slobberin' all up on my neck and ....

*shiver*

I'll spare you the extremely graphic, disturbingly sexual details.. and believe me when I say I'm doing you a huge favor.

The really, really sad part? In the dream, I thought he was the best thing since sliced bread. I cried when he left, I pined for him by the window and everything.

I'm not sure if this means I need medication, a social life or just to get laid. Alot.

If you need me, I'll be in the bedroom with the Hoover trying to suck the lurid, slobbery images from my mind's eye before they take up permanent residence.

*gag*

Later Taters!!

Down the Rabbit Hole With Unicorns

Sing it with me chil'ren...

"It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood, a beautiful day for a neighbor.. will you be mine? Won't you be mine? Won't you be my neighbor??"

I'm back at the Asylum today after my mandatory three day weekend.

Yay.

It's going to be a weird one.. I think. I dreamed that a woman from a donut shop in town (there isn't one) showed me a hole in the mountain where you could look down upon the holler, but you were able to see the unicorns and leprechauns that were always there but invisible to the naked eye.

I swear.. I didn't smoke a damn thing before bed last night.

"Stray Cat Strut" is playing through my earbuds at the moment. Ya'll remember The Stray Cats don't ya? I have an autographed picture with a newspaper article about them from back in the day. When Ma was out gallivanting every weekend with P.W.P. (Parents Without Partners.. I'm not making it up.. seriously) she always seemed to end up with the guys in the band... proving that some things ARE genetic.. and she knew someone who knew someone.. or something.. and got me the autograph.

I was just re-reading the last paragraph about the dream. There was a hole in the mountain. The lady worked at a donut shop.. and a donut is a pastry.. with a hole.

Paging Dr. Freud...

Maybe the "holes" have sexual significance. No wait.. that would mean I have leprechauns and unicorns in my coochie.

Do they make cream for that?

Oh and unicorns, with their horn, could possibly be a phallic reference. I'm not even going to attempt a guess at what the leprechauns mean.. although I wouldn't be completely opposed to dating vertically challenged Irish men.

Okay.. I think I need more coffee... and maybe some antipsychotic medication.

Ya'll be good.. or be good at it.

Later Taters!

When the Universe Screams

Let's jump right in with both feet, kay?

The gimp eyed weather girl said we're in for the hottest day so far this year. Thank God for air conditioning right?

Guess what's broken at the asylum.

The forecast is for 93°. Shoot me now.

Also at the asylum, managers were called to a meeting yesterday for a doom and gloom report. Bossman was told to get some sales in here, or else. Everyone else was forbidden to spend any money whatsoever on anything.

Like repairs, for instance. Like.. air conditioners.

In other news...

My head is in a really weird place lately, making it difficult for me to write anything here. You see, I've gotten used to sharing everything with ya'll here in the blogosphere and most of the time that's fine. I mean.. hell fire.. I'm sure there are times when ya'll wish I'd let up a little with the caring and sharing, from menstrual irregularities to intestinal assaults.

What I hesitate to share are those events which even I find to be unexplainable, those times when I feel the universe tugging at my heart, occupying my mind and forcing me to deal with things that, admittedly most people think are way too "out there" for public consumption.

Saturday night, I had a dream. It wasn't a bad dream, but it was quite vivid and there are things about it that stood out so prominently that they still gnaw at my mind. The bright images and gut twisting emotions were so real that they woke me at 4 a.m.

I got up Sunday morning, still seeing the images from the night before, still sorting them out, turned on the television and witnessed a small portion of the previous night's dream being played out on the news. Experience tells me it was just taste, to let me know to pay attention.

On Monday, I heard someone relaying the story of how they'd spent their Friday night. This someone wasn't in the dream, but the place they described seemed to be a carbon copy of the place I visited in my sleep.

So yeah, I know this sounds flaky. But it is what it is.. I guess.

Anywho, that's why I'm a little out of it. I'm trying to sort it all out, figure out what it means.

We'll talk soon. Ya'll stay cool.

Later Taters.

Nubby Fingers and Scary Dreams

Hey ya'll.

I was at the Asylum for a total of eight minutes this morning before I lost my cool.

Welcome back.

I don't know why people have to be all up in my bidness when I'm out. Is my job really all THAT mysterious and exciting?

Anywho, on Friday one of the guys out in the plant stuck his hand in one of the machines when he shouldn't. I knew all about it already because the fire department was dispatched, an ambulance was called, helicopters were summoned... you get the idea. Lucky for me, the patient is well enough today to show up at the office and wander from cubicle to cubicle, retelling his gruesome tale over and over.... and over. The employee to be known from now on as "Nubs" grew up way off the beaten path where modern conveniences like telephones and hearing aides were unheard of, resulting in the chosen method of communication being to stand in the yard and holler like a crazy person.

What I'm gettin' at is.. Nubs is a real loud talker.

Nubs and Bubbles go way back, so they have alot to talk about. His wife.. bless her heart.. thinks Bubbles is the all knowing authority on child rearing and house keeping and the most worldly person she knows, so she's excited to have the opportunity to get all chatty.

Ya'll see what I'm gettin' at here?

Now I'm not the cold hearted bitch that I might seem. I'm glad Nubs is okay. I was worried when I heard about the accident Friday and although it sucks to lose the tip of your finger, all things considered, it could have been a lot worse. I'd just really rather not hear about the accident, the resulting treatment and all the gory details more than maybe 5 or 6 times.

Am I being unreasonable?

Moving on...

I've been on edge lately, I mean other than just today. I've always had weird dreams with the occasional bad one, but the past couple of weeks I've been haunted by some pretty frightening nightmares. They've included burying bodies by the river, knife wielding women in Halloween costumes and this morning, riding a bus alone, knowing it was going to flip over and trying to position myself in a way that I wouldn't be killed.

Oh and in the one with the bodies by the river, there was a dog gnawing a bone in the dark. A bone which may or may not have been human. His name was Newton.

Don't look at me like that... I DON'T KNOW ANYONE NAMED NEWTON!

Seriously, that last one woke me up from a dead sleep at 4 a.m. I'm starting to dread going to sleep at night.

Anywho, I'm going to go do some filing. Ya'll have a good one.

Later Taters.

Of Anemone, Silver Motorcycles and Men in Tool Belts

It's time once again to explore the vast unknown that lies inside my head, where strange creatures roam the intricate folds of my gray matter resulting in weird dreams to rival any episode of The Twilight Zone.

I woke up this morning at some ungodly hour, around the buttcrack of dawn with an allergy induced headache. As I waddled through the house looking for something to break up the gunk in my head (thank you ragweed) I took a mental walk through the dream I'd just had. If I replay it in my head as soon as I wake up, I can recall more of it later.

I was in a either an apartment building or hotel, Spanish stucco style with a few palm trees here and there. It had a square courtyard in the center, I'd describe the area as "upscale." The people who were employed there seemed poor, dark skinned and there was some reference made to Mexico. I was with a man but he apparently wasn't my significant other because he kept trying to fix me up with people he knew there, resulting in someone leaving messages on my cell phone in Spanish. There was someone moving a red couch in the dream, but that's because Ma and I had words last night over her distaste with my moving the furniture.

After I took some decongestant, I curled up on the couch in my robe and turned the television on. I ended up watching a Kath and Kim movie on either IFC or Sundance, during which I fell back to sleep.

In this dream, Ma, the Amazon and I were living back in the neighborhood I grew up in. It was a different house and there was a garage where a tree used to be, but it was the same lot. Someone had given the Amazon a big, silver motorcycle and she had no desire to ride it, so I took it out for a spin through the old neighborhood. It's been at least 22 years since I've been on a bike and I've not driven one since I was 13, so it was weird to experience it like it was something I do every day. When I got back to the garage, I was worried that someone was going to steal the bike, so I put it on the porch. There was a man there, in a plaid shirt and tool belt who kept following me around the house telling me he needed all my passwords for my computer so that he could fix my "anemone" game. I don't know what the crap he was talking about, I have no such game nor software, but the fact that he kept repeating it and that I saw the word typed out on a piece of paper in the dream, plain as day, is weird. If you'll think about it, it's unusual to see a printed sign or paper in a dream that is clear and easy to read. The fact that this was means something. Exactly what, I don't know.

There was also some moving around of a red couch in this one, but I blame Ma and her demands last night that I move the furniture that she never sits on, in a room that she enters maybe twice a week at most.

Oh and there was a little grey tabby kitten playing on my bed in the dream, I hope that part wasn't prophetic. I don't need anymore hairy little poop machines in this house.

I tell ya'll my weird dreams so that six months from now when I say "I met this cool guy on a silver motorcycle, wearing a tool belt with "anemone" tattooed on his forearm today who was petting a little gray cat!" I'll have ya'll here to remind me of the weird dreams I had this morning.

Now I'm going to go Google "anemone" and what silver and gray symbolize. Ya'll have a good one :)

Spiritual Nudge

The other day I told ya'll about the series of three dreams I had Tuesday night. One of those dreams involved a submarine and it kept me sort of addled for most of the day. Yesterday at work things were really slow and I got bored, so I started looking at news sites. I didn't "search" for anything, I just went to MSNBC, FOX and CNN to see what was going on in the world. For some reason I decided to check the Big City newspaper site. I did run a search for it, I don't have it saved anywhere because I never read it. The only time they mention anything about Podunk County is when some yeehaw from way back on the mountain who's parents met at the family reunion spots a UFO or Bigfoot.

Anywho, I went to the main page and a link to an article caught my eye. As I read it, chills ran up my back and my scalp tingled. I printed the article and took in to Lulu. All I said to her was, "Remember the dreams I had the other night?"

After she read it, she looked at me and said, "Okay, that's weird. Even for you."

I don't know what it means, I stopped wasting my time trying to second guess the meanings of such things a long time ago. When I'm meant to know, I will.

To alot of people, stories like this sound flaky. I used to feel the same way. Back in 2001 I had a sort of awakening and really began paying attention to my dreams and the signs and messages around me. I don't worry as much nowadays about what people may think or how goofy I sound when I touch on the subject of spirituality. I figure, if I feel compelled to write it there must be one person who needs to read it. It's okay if the rest of you think I'm a little wacko.

Dreams, Trekkies and Late Night Gallivanting

Guess what? After a brief window of up time yesterday, our computer system is on the fritz again this morning. Gosh darn it.

I can't do any work, so I'll use this time to tell ya'll about my latest weird dreams. I haven't remembered any in the past couple of weeks, then last night I had three. In the last one I remember before waking up this morning, I was standing with Ma on the sidewalk back in my old neighborhood in Virginia. The house we were in front of didn't look familiar to me, but in the dream it was. As we stood there, I was approached by a man who was sort of Bubbahubby meets Trekkie. He was around 40ish, pudgy and balding. The hair he did have was almost to his shoulders and he was wearing a ball cap. He fidgeted with his dark rimmed glasses as they slipped down on his nose and spoke softly.

"Come inside, there's something I have to show you," he said. Ma was convinced he was an axe murderer and was going to chop me in little pieces and stash the remains under the garage or something, but for some reason I didn't hesitate to follow him inside.

As we entered the house, with Ma waiting cautiously out on the sidewalk, the first thing I noticed was a tiny silver snake (not a live one) in the corner. When I saw it, I heard "there is no evil here" and I wasn't afraid. I followed him in to the seating area, which for some reason, I want to call the parlor. He sat down and produced a wooden box, about the size of a cigar box, which he opened.

I have no idea what was inside. I don't remember if I ever saw the contents.

Sometime last night I woke up when I saw giant metal jaws biting a hole into the side of a submerged submarine. Water was rushing inside and I was screaming at the men to get out before they drowned. I'm not sure where I thought they were going to go, how they could survive, but I was trying like hell to help them. I don't know where the submarine was or even if the men inside spoke English. I had the sense that it was somewhere cold. Okay, I know that the ocean, at the depths that a submarine would be, is going to be cold.. duh.. but I felt like it was in an area that was known for being colder.

There was a third dream last night. The only reason I remember it is because I woke up at four when I had to get up and nudge the thermostat down a bit. I can't really go into details about that one, although it was the most vivid. There was some cavorting and gallivanting, even some nudity, but not nookie related. It was kind of freaky.

Anywho, I'll leave ya'll to figure out what they mean. I'm gonna go find something to do so I won't have to listen to Bubbles call one more person to discuss her sick goat.

Ya'll be blessed :)

Of Lizards and Motorcycles

Geeze o' Pete it's farkin' hot. I don't like the heat. Once the temperature gets to around 90° outside, my air conditioner just doesn't cut it. To make matters worse, apparently the hose that drains the moisture from the central air unit is clogged up and water is backing up and flooding the hallway. Fun times here in Frog Pond Holler!

Now that I've got the whining out of the way...

Thursday, as I was working my little behind off (hush ... I was to) the urge for a cigarette became the only thing I could think about. I quit in January and most of the time it doesn't bother me anymore, but occasionally it hits and I could eat a pack of Basic Lights. There are still two people in the office who smoke and sometimes I get a whiff of nicotine, especially when the GM comes in from sneaking one and decides to waller me around and call me his angel (what? ya'll didn't think it was my work ethic that keeps me employed did ya?)

When the urge hits for a cigarette I go outside on the steps and watch the birds, take a few deep breaths and try to focus on something else. On Thursday, as I stood out there leaning against the railings, I spotted something moving in the mulch. My first reaction was that it was a snake, because I'm paranoid that way. I think everything is a snake at first. I soon realized it was a lizard, one of those cute little blue tailed ones. I watched him scurry around looking for bugs then run cross the steps in front of me. I had my camera with me but he wouldn't stay still long enough for me to get a shot. I kept an eye on him until he disappeared in a hole behind the concrete step.

I didn't give it much thought at the time, there's no tellin' what kind of wildlife you'll see out there. The next day, when I'd been sitting at my desk for too long and needed to stretch my legs, I went back outside and stood on the steps to get some fresh air. I leaned against the railing and glanced down at something I saw moving by the steps. There, poking it's little head out from the hole, was a lizard just like the one I'd seen the day before. He looked around for a second, then scurried along the mulch running back and forth looking for bugs then disappeared around the corner of the building.

Now, I don't know for sure if it was the same lizard, but it would still seem to be a big coinki dink to see one in the exact same spot I'd seen one the day before, regardless if it were the same one or not. That is, if you believe in coincidences.

I've been thinking a lot lately about how I've been out of touch with things of a spiritual nature. I used to pay attention to signs and dreams but for the past few months I guess my head hasn't been in the right place. So when I saw the lizard two days in a row, I Googled the meaning of the lizard totem. From http://www.linsdomain.com/totems/pages/lizard.htm I found this:

Lizard medicine is the shadow side of reality where your dreams are reviewed before you manifest them physically.

If you have a Lizard totem, listen to our own intuition above anyone else's.Pay attention to your dreams for they show us what we do not perceive when awake.Dreams are shadows showing your fears and hopes.Make a dream log and record your dreams. Look for your symbolic and reoccurring dreams and study them carefully.
Lizard can also teach you to become more detached in life.Sometimes it is necessary to separate yourself from others to accomplish what is necessary.Lizard helps you awaken the ability for objective detachment.It can show you how to break from the past.

Well, in the past couple of weeks I've dreamed about staying at a campground for motorcyclists on the beach and having to take a riding test to prove I rode well enough to join the volunteer security.. thingie. I've also had this recurring theme surrounding bakeries and had someone in a dream teaching me how to physically manifest objects in my hand.

And on that note, I'm going to get ready for bed. I'll let ya'll draw your own conclusions.

Dream a Little Dream of Me

I keep meaning to tell ya'll about the dreams I've been having lately, but I get sidetracked. Not the ending world hunger or being the first woman president kind of dreams, but the nocturnal chaos that creeps in to your inner most thoughts, shaking the bits and pieces of your reality like dice in a Yahtzee cup.

Yeah.. those kinds of dreams.

In the first one, I was living in a house situated upon the same spot of land which my trailer now occupies. The house was an older one and reminded me of my Granny's house, which really did sit in this very spot. The one detail that I remember (from the dream) most vividly was the sort of milky light blue color of the walls that you just don't see anymore. The ceilings were constructed of tiny slats of wood, maybe an inch in width. I know there's another name for it, you see ceilings and walls made this way in old farm houses.

This is where it gets weird. It was like Frog Pond Holler was living in a different time period separate from the rest of the world, right down to clothing from the late 1900s. A film crew had showed up to do a documentary about the town and had stopped and asked me to help them find a place to spend the night. I explained to them that I wasn't originally from here, so I understood their big city ways, but they'd have to be careful not to upset the rest of the residents when interviewing them.

It was kind of like "The Village."

The next night I had another weird dream. In this one I was wondering around a mall, which seems to be a recurring theme with me. There were two sections, the busy part with all the shops and customers milling about, then the hidden area that seemed to still be under construction with empty store fronts and dark hallways, as is always the case in my "mall dreams." Just for the record, I'm not one of those shopaholic type people who love the mall. I get to the actual mall about once a year, so apparently it's symbolic of something else to my subconscious. I usually end up wandering around the hidden part, trying to get back to the busy area, but it's during my wandering around that I encounter people or things that I learn from. In this one, I found a chute type opening to the ceiling with a ladder attached to the side. There were Asian men in dark clothes climbing up the ladder rapidly. It was explained to me that they were going up to get on the roof where they could ski off the top.

When I finally found my way back to the busier part of the mall, I spotted a couple that I knew standing beside a bakery / desert shop. Before I go on, although I recognized these two people in the dream, there was a sense that it was actually someone else. Anywho, the shop window had a dark purple sign that said "Kiramisu" in cursive, written in white or yellow. It was meant to be a play on the word "Tiramisu," a desert, and the name "Kira."

I don't know anyone named Kira, but that was the name of the female half of the couple beside the shop and she was the owner. I've never made Tiramisu, I don't know anyone with a desert shop. It's all very.. odd.

I'll leave it up to ya'll to figure it out.

Why I Should Let My Hair Grow for World Peace

I hope this finds ya'll enjoying your weekend, I know I'm enjoying mine. But then, every second away from the Cubicle Asylum is like a week in the Bahamas.

I didn't get up that early this morning, but I was still up way before anyone else in the house, so let's call it early, kay?

I woke up around threeish last night/this morning from an odd dream. It took place in an upscale garage where the customers drove expensive sports cars and luxury vehicles. There was a couple who had brought an antique car by to have checked out that they were considering buying. I wish I could tell you exactly what kind of car it was, but I can't. I knew in the dream and at three a.m. I remembered alot of the details, but operation of a writing instrument is way too complicated for me to manage in the middle of the night, so all was lost the moment I went back to sleep.

I had another weird kinda Twilight Zone sort of moment after I had my coffee. I was standing in the bathroom, leaning in close to the mirror, trying in vain to snag one wiry, stray chin hair with the tweezers, when this random song just popped in my head:

Morning has broken, like the first morning
Blackbird has spoken, like the first bird
Praise for the singing, praise for the morning
Praise for the springing fresh from the word
Sweet the rain's new fall, sunlit from heaven
Like the first dewfall, on the first grass
Praise for the sweetness of the wet garden
Sprung in completeness where his feet pass
Mine is the sunlight, mine is the morning
Born of the one light, Eden saw play
Praise with elation, praise every morning
God's recreation of the new day

No clue why. I'm pretty sure I've not heard it anywhere in a really long time. Weird.

Anywho, after I had a shower and found out that the Amazon had no intention of getting out of bed and going with me, I drove out towards Big City to get my hair cut and to finally, after a very long time, get my nails done. I walked in the hair salon and sat down, waiting patiently to be signed in, the sound of John Mellencamp singing "Hurt so good" playing on the radio. The television was on, but the sound was off. There had been an explosion, this time at the Glasgow airport. I tried to sort out what had happened by reading the scrolling news feed at the bottom of the screen. One of the stylists was reminiscing with her customer about the time she gave him a mohawk, another was chatting with her kid on the phone. The lady beside me was reading the latest Paris Hilton news in a gossip rag, Mellencamp was begging "Come on baby make it hurt so good" and all the while the flames shot out from the burning car, licking the air, the hurried face of a reporter trying to tell me what had happened.

I think I should stop getting my hair cut. Maybe I'll join that weird cult that Maw Babs belongs to and just let it grow long and straight. The last time I got a hair cut, the television was on CNN and there was an armed man holding hostages at NASA.

Weird.

It's A Boy!

Saturday night I had the weirdest dream. I was a nurse, working in a hospital alongside a chubby little woman of color who was always smiling, always had a kind word. I was wearing a colorful smock, my hair was long and pulled back in barrettes on the sides. Oh yeah and I was pregnant. The halls of the hospital were long and winding, it seemed like I had to walk forever to get to my station. The direction I took cut through the cafeteria which had huge windows where I noticed that it was always night when I was going to work. I must have been working third shift. There was a lot of discussion about my pregnancy, I knew it was a boy and I was excited about it. People were patting my tummy, wishing me well and bringing me gifts.

The only time during the dream when my chubby little friend wasn't smiling was one night when one of her patients passed away.

When I started to wake up, this dream was so real that I began questioning how I could have gotten pregnant, it having been an embarrassingly long time since being exposed to those substances that cause pregnancy. I realized that it wasn't possible, that there must be some kind of mistake and was worried sick about how I was going to explain to people that I wasn't pregnant.

This was one of those dreams where you're not only experiencing it, but you're also seeing it from the third person point of view, almost as if you're seeing someone elses life. I didn't look like myself in the dream nor was my personality really like "me."

It's weird when a dream has that kind of grip on your psyche. It was a huge relief when I finally got awake enough to realize that it wasn't real.

Dreams with Morals and Pimping My Blog

Don't ya'll just LOVE Mondays? I know I do. With a passion.

Are ya'll convinced yet?

Bossman went breezing down the hall a few minutes ago and announced he was going to be out of the office for a few hours. Gee, I wonder what would happen if I were to do that? Should I try it and see?

*eyeroll*

I had one of my weird dreams the other night. There was going to be this big formal affair that I was invited to, but I didn't have a formal gown to wear, nor did anyone else. There was only one person in town that did and she had a closet full, but the only problem was that she was a snot and no one liked her. I have no clue who she was. So everyone in town had to swallow their pride and go ask her if they could borrow one of her gowns to wear to the party and surprisingly she was thrilled to help, even though she wasn't invited. In the end it turned out that she was a perfectly sweet person but had just been the victim of rumors gone mad.

When did my dreams start turning in to Aesops fables?

I've been playing with MySpace a little, I'd really like to use it to drive more traffic here. There is a place there for a blog, but it's all I can do to keep up with this one. I've been debating how I could use the blog option there to get more readers here, but I'm not sure what would be the best way to do that. What do ya'll think? Should I copy a small part of my Blogger posts there, like a teaser, then direct the reader here for the rest of the post? Or maybe post a brief summary there or just leave it with one general link on the main page?

I want to hear ya'll's thoughts on the subject, so chime in!!

And on that note, I'm going to go get productive... sort of.. maybe.

Ya'll be blessed.

Dreaming of Flossie

Ya'll might remember my neighbor Dubya who lives across the street. His step daughter (rumored to be his real daughter) by his wife that he never lived with who got stabbed to death by her drug dealer boyfriend back a few years ago is the $30 dollar hoochie mama that I've mentioned from time to time. Dubya has another daughter who lives in Florida for most of the year and comes up to visit every summer. I think we decided to call her Flossie when I wrote about her before, but it's been a while. Let's just go with that.

I thought I saw Flossie standing out in Dubya's yard the other day, enjoying the estate, strolling by the pool and it made me nervous. I hate it when she comes to town. Her husband is short, hairy and looks like he should be hanging out under bridges frightening billygoats. I won't comment on the children, just because they're children and God Bless'em they can't help it.

Anyways, it must have stressed me out, worrying that I'd seen her in town because I dreamed about her last night. The Amazon and I have been discussing having the Big City Sunday newspaper delivered instead of trying to get up early enough to get to town. The papers in the machines go really fast here, you almost have to be standing there waiting when they come to fill them up if you want one. This combination of things must have crept into my head because last night I dreamed that Flossie was standing in front of my house demanding money for her paper route.

I knew immediately that I had to be dreaming because Flossie and her husband are what I like to refer to as professionally unemployed. It's a popular career choice around here, the tricks and schemes of which have been handed down in some families for generations. I don't mean to imply that most of the residents of Frog Pond Holler don't work, most are upstanding, tax paying citizens but there is a fair portion of the population who have raised the art of surviving without a job to a new level. This has been a topic of discusstion between Lulu and I lately as we watch the unemployed drive up and down the road all hours of the day and night in their fairly new SUVs, while we struggle to keep a vehicle pieced together. We've often contemplated that we must be doing something wrong.

Time to tackle some housework, later Taters!!

Halloween in May

It's so nice out this morning. The sun is shining, the wind's blowing. I just wanted to open my bedroom window and crawl back in bed. But no, I came to work. Nothing can screw up a nice day like facing the Cubicle Asylum.

Bossman will be a couple of hours late today (surprise, surprise!) Can you tell I'm heartbroken about it? We've been here twenty minutes and Bubbles is already on her third personal phone call. At least I don't have to listen to her discuss her uterus, she only does that with customers.

Can you tell I've got just a wee bit of an attitude problem? I mean... does it show?

I had weird dreams this morning. I was in a car with a man I've never seen. He was sort of geeky looking, with thick rimmed glasses. We were driving through this neighborhood at dusk on Halloween. There were all these gruesome displays set up in people's yards, kids running around in costumes. I remember seeing some people on a hill .. or a cliff.. dressed in red robes, they looked like monks. Then there was a big house with a wrap around porch with girls running around in little blue uniforms. It was some sort of Christian camp / retreat thing. There were a couple of kids dressed as angels standing right on the curb at the edge of the road holding a sign that said "Use Caution" or "Drive Slowly" or something to that effect. We eventually found what we were looking for, a burger joint with a walk-up window. We'd called in our order and were picking it up. The building was situated between houses, part of the neighborhood. The last thing I remember was trying to open the car door to pick up our order and my long skirt being caught in the door, causing it to jam.

Weird huh? I'll let ya'll interpret that one. Maybe I'm supposed to use caution when approaching cheeseburgers? And who was the nerdy guy? He even had a nerdy car. Is my life being piloted by a dorky spirit guide who drives a 1978 Buick?

*sigh*

Ya'll have a good one.

I Think I Need My Head Examined

I had one of my weirdo dreams last night, so get out your dream interpretation books and follow along.

Do ya'll remember the television show "Family Affair" from the sixties? With Buffy, Jody, Mr. French and Mrs. Beasley? Okay, well none of those people were in the dream, but the dad was. It began with a gathering of moms in the yard, outside of my cousin's house back home in Virginia. They had all just returned from going with their kids on a field trip to the zoo. They were all standing around, drinking coffee out of paper cups, smoking cigarettes and discussing the trip. I have no idea where the kids were. Maybe we left them at the zoo or fed them to the lions or something... who knows.

So then, the teacher leaves on foot and we follow her. We walk into this two story brick building, with glass doors. Outside, in front of the doors was a place to tie horses. Okay, yes I know this isn't making any sense, but it was a dream. We all go inside and for some reason, one of the ladies' flip-flop type sandals keep getting my attention. Inside, we sit in a little cafe' type area for coffee, which seemed redundant because they'd all be drinking coffee through the whole thing. Then the teacher motions for me to follow her and we walk around a corner and down a short hall way to room in the back. There are tables and chairs set up with crotchedy old men talking about something I didn't understand. We walk up to a window and there, behind the sliding glass, is the dad from Family Affair, who we then bought lottery tickets from.

I'm not sure what happened after that, the next thing I can remember is being alone and retracing my steps. I went back into the brick building, not sure if it was the right one or not and found the woman's sandals on the floor by the booth we'd been sitting in. Then I started down the hallway and ran into Lorne Greene sitting at a table. He invited me to sit down and asked me what I was doing there. He kept looking at me very suspiciously, as if he doubted I'd ever been there before. I tried to explain what had happened earlier, but he kept eyeing the flip flops, which I was now wearing and questioning me. He refused to let me past, all the while smiling and being very gentlemanly yet condescending, a very smooth talker. He eventually convinced me to leave, which I did, but not before taking a quick peek through the doorway behind him. The room was still full of crotchedly old men. I think it was a backroom gambling den.

Now, it's important to mention that I've not seen nor had the least bit of fleeting thought of that old television show in probably twenty years. I have no idea why I'd dream of someone from the cast. As for Lorne Greene being a bookie or a mobster, I don't get that one either. I will admit that I've been shopping for some sandals to kick around in, which may explain the flip flops. After work Friday, I ran into Louise at the dollar store, she'd taken the day off to go with her kids on a field trip to Santa's Land, which has a petting zoo. That might explain the beginning of it.

But Lorne Greene?

This is a Job for Nyquil

I've been thinking about the weird dream I had this morning for most of the day. Ya'll know I hate snakes more than just about anything in the world and I can't even fathom repeatedly picking one up as I did in the dream. I get in the same room with one and I start sweating and breaking out in hives. In the dream, I didn't want to handle it, but "something" kept telling me I had to. In a way, I suppose, I was being forced to face my worst fears, which I did.

When I went grocery shopping yesterday, as I passed the road to Mamaw's house, I thought about her and the house she lived in when I was little. The porch was concrete, but painted a dark green color and it was always cool to the touch regardless of how hot it may have been outside. I haven't been back there in about thirty years, but I can still remember the cracks in the sidewalk leading up to the steps, the yucca plants on the edge of the yard and the branch that ran down the middle of the property.

It wasn't until I left the store and headed home, past the road to the cemetery where Mamaw is buried beside Papaw, that I lost it. I remembered her funeral, how my aunt was so shocked to see me walk in and the fear I had of facing my father after all those years. I had thought, before she died, that I'd never be able to do it, that I'd never be strong enough to face him.

But I did. I faced him.

And now I wonder if those thoughts as I drove home from the grocery store yesterday had anything to do with handling the snake in my dream. Maybe on some level, the powers of the universe were trying to show me that I'm capable of doing a lot more than I give myself credit for.

And maybe it was just a dream....

On a slightly different, way weirder note.. I relayed the details of my snake dream this morning to Lulu and she said, "That's odd that you dreamed about snakes last night. Last night I dreamed a huge, yellow snake was waiting for me, it's mouth gaping so wide it could have swallowed my head."

We had both had dreams of big yellow snakes. That was weird enough, but then I came home for lunch. I went in Ma's room to find Sammy to give him his pill and Ma said this to me, "I must have had your dreams last night."

I know I must have looked dumbstruck. "Every time I closed my eyes I dreamed snakes were all over me. It's the strangest thing, I used to have dreams like that all the time, but this is the first time I've dreamed about snakes since we moved here."

Isn't that just.. WEIRD??????

I tried to figure out what it could mean, but all I could come up with on Google was some weird Greek cult that had temples in places with hot mineral baths and big yellow snakes as the symbol for the god they worshiped. If ya'll can come up with anything else, I'd love to hear it.

Now I'm going to go try to find something to get the slithery things out of my head before bedtime.

Ya'll be blessed :)

A Slithery Start to the Week

I dreamed about snakes last night. Two of them. One huge yellow constrictor of some kind and a little ball python. I kept having to reach in their glass enclosures and lift them out to move them. I don't know why I dreamed this, but it was the last thing I remember before I woke up.

Ewwww.

A hell of a way to start my Monday.

They say ("they" being the unknown, unseen, all knowing authority on any given subject under the sun) that snakes in dreams are symbolic of change and healing. I guess that's not so bad. Who couldn't use a little of each of those?

It's Monday. Let's grab it by the cajones!!