that's a funny one...

(this is entitled, 'barbies. drying.' i know...lame-o...)

last night, i took tylenol pm. i slept. it was a miracle...a modern day, medicinal miracle. or somethin like that...

this morning, i had just one dream. it was majorly messed up. there was fbi, cia, the mob, physical assaults, drugs, john hughes movies, michael jackson, birthday parties and lots of kids, rollerblades, cracked coffee cups, helicopters, my cabin, serets and a heroes character. unfortunetly, that's all i can say about it though. i'm noticing a pattern in my dreams, which is good, i guess. i don't like the pattern though and it's a a pretty transparent pattern for those that know me...so i'm just going to be quiet on things for now. apparently, it's something that my sub-conscious mind is a bit stuck on lately...though my regular mind doesn't seem too affected by it.

*sigh*

so...um...how do you get your sub-conscious over something? maybe i need hypnotherapy or something? like in office space--when that guy got hypnotherapy and then got 'normal'. ugh.

or maybe time will just take care of it...

hah!

*yaaaaaawn*

(baking...one of the many things i busy myself with weekly to stay alert...)

i guess, i should be happy to report that, with a stolen ambien, i slept decently last night. with the ambien i only had a handful of dreams. the main one, i was living at a house with my boyfriend and there was his part of the house and then his best friends part of the house (his best friend was my exes best friend, btw). i was their maid basically. i cleaned. there were lots and lots of details, dvd cases, shelves, necklaces, phone conversations, garbage, dust...lots of detail, lots of color.

another dream, i took a little raft out through our flooded streets with my camera, of which i could not find the neck strap. i had my big lens on and was trying to shoot the moon and the circles of rainbows that were everywhere...though they kept going away when the sun would come out. i ended up falling off the raft and trying desperately to save the camera...which i did.

i also dreamt of night time restaurants with dangling lights, freaking out on a friend's pregnant wife for being a bitch and dogs that died years ago.

i don't know why i think this makes a good blog. it doesn't. i know. but it's majorly affecting me lately. i'm tired all day because of this...i'm sick of falling asleep while checking my e-mail at noon. (i haven't done that in a couple weeks now...really...) some nights are better than others...i don't know why. i'm thankful it's not every night at least--i do get a little time to catch up. i'm just so tired of fighting this. heehee. get it. tired of this. heehee.

shit. even my jokes have gotten worse. they used to be so good. remember? yeah...neither do i.

all i have to do, is dr-e-e-e-eam...

(the kid did this. she thought she was making the sink pretty)

last night, i dreamt about:

my friend's boss and an imaginary co-worker of his, washing my three favorite bras, answering the phone--only to find out it was dead, chatting with and making plans for my mom this week (i gave her, in the dream, all my days and times i was busy this week. they were the actual times i AM busy), getting fired from a job, my dad checking out the panty lines of a friend of mine, a friend complaining about putting on a few pounds (in my dream, she reflected roughly the weight gain from her real-life current weight), buying christmas door/window hangers with cardinals and snow on them, on clearance for .75 cents each, breaking up with my current boyfriend and hooking back up with the ex-only to find out he was living on a lake with his actual girlfriend and trying to break up with her while pacifying me by lying and wearing drab clothes while walking through long grey hallways with drinking fountains.

and THEN, there was the movie dream...i was actually andy (and IN the upcoming movie, toy story 3--which i do not know the plot to), who was dying of cancer and being taken care of by a care giver while my stressed out mom looked on (i remember treatments, medications, surgery's, radiation, etc...). woody and buzz were there but the movie really started when i died (i remember flat-lining and the sheet being pulled over me)...apparently it took the toys to bring me back to life. the twist at the end of the movie was that i loved them so much, i brought them to heaven with me...they never brought me back to life after all. oooh...

i woke up after the majority of the dreams because they were SO real and i was freakin out. once again, there were colors (VIVID colors of many different shade and hues), smells, emotion and thoughts (thoughts within dream).

needless to say, i woke up quite tired. what the hell? i mean, i don't want to quit dreaming but the dreams are multiplying like freakin rabbits lately...

my kinda, sorta apology

(tonight's storms...this was well after the rain quit. the lightening was incredible...)

oops. please excuse last night's ridiculousness. i take it back. well...i take most of it back. okay, i take nothing back really...otherwise i would hit 'delete'. it was a bit, well, drunkenly harsh though...

i think i shoulda broke a law

(did i post this already? hmmm...oh...and i'm too uncoordinated to add a frame. and my name)

ya know. not just driving but anything drunk should be against the law.

no drunken texts. (just did that one...sorry exey.)
no drunken tweets. (just did that one too...)
no drunken blogging. (in the process of...)
no drunken eating. (cheetos at 11:30 pm. looking delicious.)
no drunken ramblings. (going to do that soon. sorry current.)

look. in my defense. i haven't drank wine in a very long time. in fact, it was since i was at my terrible cube job that i last drank any of that box of wine i finally polished off tonight. (that terrible cube job that probably scarred me for life and made me a temporary alcoholic.) (oh...double parenthesis again...i NEEDED the room in my fridge so i polished off the box tonight. oh...and for the record, i hate boxes of wine...but in my temporary alcoholic phase my current only bought me boxes cuz i polished off too many bottles to afford on $12/hr in the 21st century crappy wages.)

oh...apparently, i'm supposed to post a photo now. stupid rules i made up.

AND another thing...you made me gain 15 pounds

(it's a chocolate soy milk stain. i swear...)

so, um...like, when am i just supposed to have it all figured out? (excuse me forefathers and literary artists for my lack of decent english--but when i think of my life, i start talking like that. i don't know why.)

what i want to do so does not match what i'm supposed to be doing. i don't like khaki's much, if at all and i really hate cubes. i know that the service industry pays better than most cube jobs and allows you to be at home more...but when you say, 'hi, i'm 28 and i'm a server.' you just feel the need, by the weight of the impending stares, to follow up with, 'oh...but i do have a college education and i have tried cube life; i chose the service industry; i swear.' it's ridiculous.

it's like you need to work in a corporate atmosphere before people will take you as anything less than a loser. you need to have joked about having a case of the mondays with co-workers, spilled coffee on your khaki's, been stuck in traffic long enough to be late for an important meeting, done something stupid/alcohol related at a company 'holiday' party, decorated your cube walls with pictures of your pet(s)/kid(s) and spent too much money at starbucks and/or going out for lunch with co-workers in any given week before you have any sort of 'street cred' with the real khaki-wearing, cube-dewlling gangs of the suburbs.

so yeah. what the hell did i just ramble?

in short...fuck corporate america. i'm chosing a happy, non-prozac way of living. despite the impending stares...

insomniatica

(no. i don't have a dream photo. and no. i don't have a bloody photo. yet...)

yep. i slept last night. for the first night in days...i slept the night through. granted, i snapped and took two tylenol pm; but regardless, i woke up feeling like i actually got some sleep.

here seems to be the majority of my issue lately. my dreams. (a sample of just tuesday night: i forgot my child, been bombed from above by russia, found graffiti to photograph on a barn, rode my bike through dirt roads that sprawled over green lands, seen fighter jets come in to attack, had my ex re-do all of my favorite memories of 'us' with his new girlfriend, lost my dog...and it just keeps going when you add in all the emotions, colors, people and smells...)

i have ALWAYS been a very active dreamer. i have always had color in my dreams, feelings (both emotional and physical feelings are huge in my dreamland and can affect my waking day), i can feel weight, i can smell scents, i can hear things, i can alter and change the way dreams are going, i can put myself into a dream of choice, pull myself from a dream and/or keep myself in a dream. (when i was little, due to the graphic nature of some of my dreams, i HAD to learn to change them and pull myself from them or i never would have slept.) (oh...one more parenthetical statement-i, only very recently, learned that not everyone can do that. it's called lucid dreaming i guess and when you google it...all these weird head-in-the-clouds, astrological hippie, wanna-be spiritualist's sites, playing crappy midi music pop up. you know the kind.)

anyway, so, yes. i slept last night. but my dreams were so intense and the medication, mixed with the already existing exhaustion, was so strong, i was forced to stay in some pretty bad dreams. though somehow, the fear that would have normally went with these dreams wasn't there as prevalently as i think it should have been. don't know why...maybe my emotions were sleeping too.

the first dream was a long drawn out one about my nephew dying. it was terribly sad. there was so much lonely in the dream. nothing was right, everything was alternate and i woke up actually crying. after waking up...i went to the bathroom, shook it off and went back to bed. the next dreams were all about blood. in one...a woman i used to work with ripped my earring out. all this warm blood started pouring out of me. all over my body, down my neck. it was so weird. the next dream, i broke every bone in my leg. the doctor was wiggling it to set it, while i was still conscious and then i felt more blood...it felt the same as the previous dream...and when i looked down, my foot was covered in rivers of blood. the blood dreams didn't phase me a bit though, the pain of the broken bones and the crunching i could feel when the dr was setting them was a bit hard to take, but seriously?

so yeah. that is why, when i have bouts of insomnia...i start to lose my mind. i wake up, from the little that i did sleep, feeling like i didn't sleep. and when i do take medication, i wake up feeling like i just got attacked because i can't change my dreams like i need to.

ya know...i've had a lot on my mind lately and have been struggling with a few things both emotionally and physically so i like to think my dreams are simply reflecting that, but why do they have to be so disturbing? shit. last night alone, i lost enough blood to kill me.