Masthead


Wednesday, August 10, 2005

Better than a $5 palm reader:

So, I stop taking my meds and lo and behold I start remembering my dreams in the morning, I doubt I stopped dreaming while I was taking them. Recently my dreams are as vivid as they were before, I remember them being so, because I like analyzing my dreams. I was always the go-to in my family for interpreting dreams. So here we go:

Night 1: I'm at a party with Jennifer Aniston and she is sitting on the couch with a glass in one hand and her feet up on the table. I guess we were pretty close because of the way we talked to each other, but while she was busy mingling with the rest of the folks sitting around her I saw the head of a nail on her foot. Without asking I start to pull on it and realize she has an entire nail up in her foot, she notices me at this point and tells me to push it back in. She says it hurt more taking out than keeping in. So I stop, think about it, and think on that one time when I was a child that I stepped on a nail. One of my neighbor's maid yanked it out before I noticed and I didn't feel it. So that's what I do. I yank it out, and she just keeps on chatting. Happy with a job well done I was on my way to mingle when I realize her other foot had two or three nails hanging out and these were not straight but mangled. End of dream.

It's been an annoying habit of mine to offer help where even if needed it was not asked. Maybe it's time for me to just mind my own business. One of two things always happen if not both. One, the good deed goes unnoticed and I'm left bitter, or two, I get stuck helping because the good deed creates a domino effect of more things gone wrong. Hmmm...

Night 2: I am living in a homeless shelter with Logan. Overnight Hillary Clinton decides to turn our shelter into a store and automatically employs everyone currently house there. So we wake up and we are immediately ordered to start stocking shelves. I find myself browsing more than stocking. Cut to the coup de ta that Dad started. He got us all out of the shelter and allowed us to stay in his house. I guess Mrs. Clinton felt slighted a bit because men with guns came. Lo and behold, Daddy's house was bullet proof.

With all the overtime I've been working everyone knows that I'm buckling down financially. Growing up I guess. But it's not enough when my own dream makes me a homeless shopaholic, so less shopping or more like bar hopping and more work, I guess. Besides, the second dream reminds me that no matter what bind I've gotten myself into Daddy's house, albeit not bullet proof, has always been there to welcome me back.

Night 3: I watch two guys screw each other's girlfriends. Not in an orgy type way but like a competition almost. There's a long drawn out story to this dream that I'll summarize. I know all of them in real life. Bam! What!

As an analyzation my friends have offered the "you are a voyeur speech." Quite the contrary, (well I am but that's not what the dream is about.) Both of the guys have heavily flirted with me soon as they found out that Ray and I are taking an official break. One even went as far as not telling me that he had gotten back together with his ex-girlfriend. Now mind you, they know each other, and each other's business. It's funny when you're drunk but from the dream point of view, I'm watching them screw each other over. Do I want to be part of that? No, thank you.

Herein concludes our list of dreams. There was plenty mind you, but some are best left unshared. BTW, Ray bought me the new Jason Mraz album, did you know? It's rekindled my affair with the main man Mraz and I'm thinking of hitchhiking to either St. Louis or Kansas City, MO near end of September to rendezvous with him. Running back to impossible possibilities that never seem to let me down. Reality is I'm too strong to be tied down, and to fragile to get involved.

Close curtain.



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