crazy dreams. ten ten ten.

i went home but screwed up the days and went on a monday instead of a friday, and it was tuesday and i couldn't remember when i was supposed to leave, naturally. i always have dreams about missing flights, and getting times screwed up. coffee was in the dream, but i don't remember how. mom was having an affair, and kept getting on the phone to arrange a time for the guy to come over, but dad knew something was up. aubree and i were taking a jet ski out, but we were also trying to go on a cruise ship with it? i don't know. then there was this five story hitler firetruck bus thing completely filled with people being dumped at the cruise. and i kept saying, 'i don't want to have anything to do with a cruise ship that's okay with hitler or the people who are okay with hitler'.

i'm telling you. weird shit. that was the night before last. i wrote it down when i woke up because i felt like i should.

last night's dream was altogether different.

this morning, i woke up thinking, 'i must have really loved him. at some point. am i wrong for leaving?'

which is a stupid thing to think, but what fragments of waking thoughts are coherent?

i was having a good dream. about ever. he was so sweet and i was totally smitten with him. it was like i was chasing him and winning him, in my dream. i wanted to be with him, and we were at the beginning of something good.

we were in bed at a point, and he was doing everything right. he was taking care of me, and touching me how i wanted to be touched.

he was loving me.

and it felt good.

after that first little string of waking thoughts, i woke up. fancy that. and i felt dumb for having had a dream like that. if only i could control my dreams... i was turned on by the dream-version of the man to whom i'm still technically married.

and in the shower, i thought of the word estranged. is it the right word to put on this husband i'm still stuck with? is he estranged if i left him? i questioned the validity of the word with my eyes closed.

it's being written like a short story. maybe it's the beginning of the next one. i don't know. it doesn't feel like i'm writing about the way i woke up today, but i am. promise.

though not from the dream, i was walking out the door to work in a bit of a sleepy daze, and tried to walk out without my bike, which would be a silly thing to do.

and then when i got close to work, i panicked for a few minutes that i'd left my cigarettes at home. i fought the urge to pull over and look for them before i got any further from my apartment. i rode to the point where i stop and get off my bike, light a cigarette, and walk the rest of the way in. and like an addict, my heart raced a little as i unzipped the front pocket of my backpack.

but luckily they were there. and as i lit one and started walking, this weird old dude was passing me on the sidewalk coming from the other direction and said, 'you don't see people riding a bike and smoking at the same time'.

and the smartass in me couldn't help but to say back, 'that's why i'm not riding my bike.' and i walked, shaking my head. i guess at the guy, but maybe at my short tempered response to him.

i guess i hate when people tell me things that they think will dissuade me from smoking. mom will lay it on thick some of the time. relatives are like that. her favorite is, 'i don't want to visit you in the hospital when you're dying of cancer.'

and i've been toying with the idea lately.

of quitting, i guess.

i always need a good reason to quit. and, no, my health isn't what i consider to be the best reason.

last night, kit was talking about science findings related to smoking. while we were smoking, of course. and i even tuned that out a little (sorry, kit). because i know it's bad, but i don't want to hear it yet. it had to do with abnormal pap smears signaling that cell change was occurring in smokers. and that's what i was thinking about after the run-in with the dude. lovely thoughts for 8ish am on a monday, i know. but what kit was saying was pretty interesting. something about 2000 women (is that right?) having a normal test, and later an having an abnormal test, and how the change in baseline happened in women who had smoked since. something very clear and concise.

i quit a while ago, because i thought i'd want to have a kid in the near future. joined the gym and cut way back, until i eventually quit. once, i quit for political reasons during a drug psychology class. several times, i accidentally quit when i was sick and managed to not start back up again for several months.

i can't remember now how long i have quit for, at most. but i always quit cold turkey, because it seems retarded to me to take nicotine in a way that isn't a cigarette and tastes nasty. or so i hear. i've never chewed nicotine gum. and i'm not so hardcore to need a patch or anything that drastic.

but i'm not motivated to quit right now, despite the fact that i add up the money i spend on smoking in my mind.

so i live to smoke another day.

and in reading my post from a couple days ago, i realize that i have issues with attention. but that when i'm writing a post during commercial breaks when i'm watching something on hulu, my posts are too scattered to connect. my train of thought is so interrupted by the show, or influenced by things i have just seen, that i can't put together a cohesive post.

i want to go back and fix it. but maybe it's better to leave it a hot mess, so you few know what is going on in my brain. how it connects things. it's kinda like a visit to the shrink. which i cannot seem to remember to make an appointment for these days.

part of what they pay attention to is the way that you connect the things you talk about.

something else happened yesterday.

after talking to kit at the bar the other night about chalk and how weird everything has been, and how i don't understand what happened or what will happen next, he surprised me.

since he left, or tried to not leave, rather, we haven't sent a single text message. his first visit was followed up with a couple random texts that were lovely. after he left, we were trying to carry on conversations via scrabble chat, and it just wasn't working, so he got on messenger. and that was where we'd catch up and flirt until the second visit. it was where i asked him to come back.

and since he left, he hasn't signed on a single time. not once.

so our interactions have been limited to innuendo and light conversation in scrabble chat since.

short. and not specifically sweet.

but yesterday, he wrote something about facebook popping up with pictures of me to remind him how beautiful i am. and that he doesn't see it as a hardship or something funny like that.

i don't know what it was about it, but it made me feel better. i told him that was nicest thing i'd heard in a while, and that nina and the writer have a way of taking pictures of me that i like, as opposed to feeling like pictures are less than flattering the majority of the time.

maybe he senses that i've been thinking about it lately. maybe he is trying to put things back before i visit home, which was the majority of the conversation with kit at the bar. will i see him? won't i? do i want to anymore? don't i? why do i feel like this? will that other feeling come back?

i've felt totally dysfunctional since he left. i mean, up to the day he came back the second time, there didn't seem to be enough time in the day for me to take care of myself. three times a day? no problem.

but after he tried not to leave? nothing. i have been living on variations of rice and beans, too many french fries, and sweet food for breakfast more often than i'd like to admit. so i have attributed the decline in drive to the way that my clothes are fitting, or not fitting, lately.

i think i went a whole week in the last couple weeks.

so i can't figure out if it's just me, or if it's something to do with weirdness with him, or some combined effect.

and i think about it a lot. in the same way that i'd randomly have xxx rated thoughts at work for weeks at a time in the height of my prowess, only the opposite of that now.

it's been over a month. and i guess that is what makes it seem so wrong. because for a couple weeks after he left the first time, i needed more. NEEDED. more. and then we made the plans. then had two more weeks of needing it. right then. and waiting for it. not to mention, the way that he ended up here in the first place. we made out, and for two weeks, i needed more of that. made plans. and waited two weeks for him to get here.

and sometimes i think, 'him? really?'

i don't understand it myself.

but put me in a room with him, and it's over. i cannot control myself.

i don't know what it's all about, but i was relieved to have something that was a little revealing on his part come through the scrabble games (where i've repeatedly handed his ass to him since he left) that have been distant. some sort of tiny emotional connection. i have been consistently sticking to playing suggestive words, and not saying much of anything.

that's the chalk update. it's a strange one.

and right here, in this very post, i went from ever fantasy dream to smoking to chalk. just like that.

what will i blog of next?

my new toothbrush is pretty awesome. but i feel like it needs a note of explanation for all of my neighbors, both in the building and out. something like, 'hey guys. just thought you should know that i purchased a sonicare toothbrush. so that's what all the noise is, coming from my bathroom early in the morning, for exactly two minutes at a time. no funny business. sorry and thanks.'

i know that it's louder to me because it's inside my mouth, and inside my head. but seriously? i feel like the people across the street can hear my brushing my teeth. and it doesn't sound like i'm brushing my teeth. dear god. who knew? brushing my teeth makes me blush. the people at sonicare really should have thought twice about making a toothbrush that is louder than most run-of-the-mill vibrators on the market.

and because i'm going to keep writing about it until i have completed reading all the way to the beginning, after you read this post, you should stop what you're doing and read some 'hyperbole and a half'.

here, i'll even include the link for the post that is my absolute favorite so far:

i'll even stop what i'm writing just to re-read it.

allie brosh slays me. it's that series of drawings of her telling the dog to sit. i cry. every. single. time. that, and the google reference. sigh.

and then, to take it down a notch, watch this:

because this song, more often that not, is stuck in my head lately. and i've also been heard lately saying that it slays me. but in a different way. i don't know where i picked this saying up from. but i'm using it.

it's not like i have a someone to sing this to. or to imagine singing it to me. it's not fitting or anything. i just love his voice. and there's something so familiar about him. like i know him. but i don't. and i love his s's. i imagine his talking voice to be pretty sweet.

i totally have a thing for speech impediments anyway. i mean, i have a track record of musical crushes: ugly cassanova, the promise ring, knapsack, and some of the offshoots: modest mouse, jealous sound, jets to brazil. i could go on. but i won't. i'll just add band of horses to the pile.

i think that dub and ever were the only boys i dated who had one. but maybe if i think harder, i can edit that. i don't know what it is. i think i'm a mouth person. or better yet, a lips person. and something about watching boys talk when they talk that way.

weird, right?

and for my next trick, i'll segue from fuck buddies to speech impediments to my period.

bet you didn't see that coming!

i just like to mention it here. so that when i get confused or someday decide to plot it on a calendar like a lot of girls do, i have a reference.

today is death cramps day.

yet, shockingly i made it through a day of work without motrin or going home early. good thing i don't have the work ethics of my star employee, or i might have just stayed home today. and blamed it on 'my cycle'.

i think that's all i have for today.

maybe i'll feel normal soon. because i feel like a freak lately.

i mean, without being what a lot of people classify as 'depressed', who doesn't get out of/off of her bed for an entire day? when it's 70 and sunny out?

this girl.

after all that writing on the topic, i think i'll make a speech impediment mix.

1. promise ring - emergency emergency

2. ugly cassanova - barnacles

3. knapsack - catherine

4. modest mouse - polar opposites (i've been dying to use this too!)

5. jets to brazil - crown of the valley (hard to find a song that isn't on other mixes!)

6. jealous sound - the fold out

7. promise ring - a picture postcard

8. band of horses - no one's gonna love you

some of that was stolen from the indie comp that i've been listening to lately.

it's funny. the sun gave it to me. i must have been twenty one? and to look back at that mix, not knowing who any of the songs were by at the time, let alone what indie rock was.

and to think of how many of them i found along the way on my own. and thought, 'woah. i know that voice. they were on that mix the sun gave me.'

the last thirty minutes have been spent on a tangent answering the question, 'wait! did ____'s singer have a lisp? shit.' and in my searching, i realized that jets to brazil dude probably doesn't have a lisp. he just has a funny fake accent. does that count? i'm going to count him in. because that is not what people from new york sound like.

youtube answered my questions. the following lead/singers do not have speech impediments: saves the day, get up kids, sunny day real estate, jimmy eat world, dashboard confessional, samiam, the descendants, built to spill. i'm sure there were others, but i forgot. i tapped into this weird frame of reference taken from the years 21 to 23, where i was listening to a lot of this, driving to and from ever's place. groan. FULL CIRCLE. i didn't even want to do that.

and, in parting.

i just thought i'd mention that i haven't bought lottery tickets in the last couple weeks. not really intentionally, though i realize that the odds are stacked against me. instead, in tempting fate, i've been entering this contest where i can win a luxury apartment in new york city. my thinking is that, if the stars want to align in such a way that i move to new york, then this is the way they will have to align. in a very big, very free, kindof a way.

i'm not telling you how to enter. sorry. it will only decrease my odds of winning.

No comments:

Post a Comment