Sorry, LDs. I don't remember what I dreamt about last night. Didn't get home until just after 11pm (gotta love late dart nights), and I had to wind down (reading until almost midnight). Was definitely too tired to remember anything. I don't even think I got up at all.
I did warn you that I have a 300-ring circus for an imagination.
Most of it comes out at night.
I am SO glad it's the weekend.
Aren't you?
Heepwah, and be safe out there
Ms D
Friday, July 30, 2010
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Dreamlet 28 July 2010
Ok, LDs. Whatever it is that I'm consuming after 6pm is totally messing up my shiz.
What I had last night between 6 and 10pm:
~2 Bud Select beers (bottles, of course)
~a drink of a potent Jack & Coke
~4 deep-fried chicken strips (awesome) with honey mustard sauce (awesome again)
~a small plate of fresh fried chips
~and a Mountain Dew
I dreamt of Halloween and ghosts and terribly scary things. Costumes on the outside were how the person really was on the inside, and no one was wearing anything cute or non-threatening.
A devil.
A Chinese dragon (those freak me out).
An evil skeleton.
You know how when you're having a bad dream, and you change positions, sometimes your dream will change?
Not last night I didn't. No matter how I tossed and turned, the dream continued.
I love the delicious feeling of fear when you know everything will be ok (like haunted houses. I loves them.); the hair on your arms and neck standing up on end, and you're afraid to look behind you because of what you might see.
But the dreams were so vivid last night that I woke up an hour earlier to pee than my normal nocturnal time (2am instead of 3am)...and I didn't want to get out of bed until I absoballylutely had to.
Ran to the bathroom, peed, and then scampered back to bed (didn't wake up Mr Realist, though. He was out cold.).
I'm getting shivers just thinking about it. *shiver*
~~
Hope everyone's day is going smashingly.
Heepwah, and be safe out there.
Ms D
What I had last night between 6 and 10pm:
~2 Bud Select beers (bottles, of course)
~a drink of a potent Jack & Coke
~4 deep-fried chicken strips (awesome) with honey mustard sauce (awesome again)
~a small plate of fresh fried chips
~and a Mountain Dew
I dreamt of Halloween and ghosts and terribly scary things. Costumes on the outside were how the person really was on the inside, and no one was wearing anything cute or non-threatening.
A devil.
A Chinese dragon (those freak me out).
An evil skeleton.
You know how when you're having a bad dream, and you change positions, sometimes your dream will change?
Not last night I didn't. No matter how I tossed and turned, the dream continued.
I love the delicious feeling of fear when you know everything will be ok (like haunted houses. I loves them.); the hair on your arms and neck standing up on end, and you're afraid to look behind you because of what you might see.
But the dreams were so vivid last night that I woke up an hour earlier to pee than my normal nocturnal time (2am instead of 3am)...and I didn't want to get out of bed until I absoballylutely had to.
Ran to the bathroom, peed, and then scampered back to bed (didn't wake up Mr Realist, though. He was out cold.).
I'm getting shivers just thinking about it. *shiver*
~~
Hope everyone's day is going smashingly.
Heepwah, and be safe out there.
Ms D
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Memorable...
Ya know, LDs, we used to go camping all the time when we were kids (Mumsy Dreamer, the stepfather, and Sister). Course, we went camping because we were too poor to do anything else.
I do have photgraphic proof that I am a bookie (not gambling, but like a foodie, but with books). On one camping trip after Mumsy D and the SF's divorce, it was just women. Mumsy, her friend Bette, Sister, and a couple other friends of Mumsy and their kidlets. It's me...on one of those plastic, tri-fold chaise lounges that you can buy at the Walmart...nose in a book...sitting by the fire. The picture, whilst a little dark, is peaceful. Just me and my book and the campfire.
But this isn't the memorable one I am talking about.
This one is.
~~
During one of my two years as a camp counselor at the camp I'd really really really love to work at for the rest of my life, there are scheduled evening activities. This one happened to be on Wednesday - the overnight. You pack up your sleeping bag and your water bottles and you take turns carrying the milkcrate full of bread and hamburger patties and veggies and trashbags and tp to the place you're staying. It's never really too far out, since you do have to get up and hike back before breakfast. :)
We'd finished eating and were finishing up ghost stories and some of the smaller girls were bunking down (C, we might have been at Upper Pak that year - do you remember?), when a couple of them freaked out. I went over to investigate, and one said that she thought she saw something moving through the forest. Another girl said it looked like a ghost. I opened my mouth to tell them that it wasn't a ghost, it was their imaginations, but that's not what came out.
"That's just Chris, my guardian angel." Now, I do have a cousin named Chris, but he wasn't born until five years later. They wanted to know about him. I told him that he keeps me safe, and since it was part of my job to keep them safe, he was watching over them too. I told them that if they saw him again, just to wave, and he'd know that they were ok.
It worked. There were no more incidents of 'ghosts' being seen, and a couple of the girls the next morning told me they'd seen him a couple times during the night when they got up to use the woods.
But before that, one of the girls came to me and said "S is crying, and we don't know why." I went over to her, and she broke my heart.
"You're lucky. I don't have a guardian angel."
"Sweetie, everyone does. Why do you think you don't?"
"Because he didn't keep me safe." Chills.
"Safe from what?"
"My babysitter."
See, LDs, she told me that the boy down the street (who was her and her sibling's babysitter) had touched her where he shouldn't, and when she tried to tell her dad, he didn't belive her. Her teacher didn't believe her.
I did. I'd had that happen to me before, and was too afraid to tell anyone.
I told her I believed her, and that we should really tell someone else who would believe her. She was scared, but she agreed. I sent our unit leader over to her, and S told her. I was shaken, LDs. To my very core.
The next day, I was called to the head counselor's office, and the camp priest was there. I told them my story, and they said it was the same as my unit leader's. They put the steps in motion.
When her dad came and got her on Saturday, I didn't like him on sight. They left, but not after lots of hugs and a 'thank you' from S.
A couple of weeks later, our head counselor called me in again and she was happy.
"She lives with her grandparents now."
Tears of joy, LDs.
And that is why this is my most memorable camping trip ever. It may not have been a trip per se, but we were camping.
~~
I've started reading Mama Kat, and she posts a Weekly Writing Prompt. You post using one of her prompts, then link up on Thursday. Obviously, I picked the most memorable camping trip. I think I'm in love. :)
Heepwah, and be safe out there.
Your bookie
Ms D
I do have photgraphic proof that I am a bookie (not gambling, but like a foodie, but with books). On one camping trip after Mumsy D and the SF's divorce, it was just women. Mumsy, her friend Bette, Sister, and a couple other friends of Mumsy and their kidlets. It's me...on one of those plastic, tri-fold chaise lounges that you can buy at the Walmart...nose in a book...sitting by the fire. The picture, whilst a little dark, is peaceful. Just me and my book and the campfire.
But this isn't the memorable one I am talking about.
This one is.
~~
During one of my two years as a camp counselor at the camp I'd really really really love to work at for the rest of my life, there are scheduled evening activities. This one happened to be on Wednesday - the overnight. You pack up your sleeping bag and your water bottles and you take turns carrying the milkcrate full of bread and hamburger patties and veggies and trashbags and tp to the place you're staying. It's never really too far out, since you do have to get up and hike back before breakfast. :)
We'd finished eating and were finishing up ghost stories and some of the smaller girls were bunking down (C, we might have been at Upper Pak that year - do you remember?), when a couple of them freaked out. I went over to investigate, and one said that she thought she saw something moving through the forest. Another girl said it looked like a ghost. I opened my mouth to tell them that it wasn't a ghost, it was their imaginations, but that's not what came out.
"That's just Chris, my guardian angel." Now, I do have a cousin named Chris, but he wasn't born until five years later. They wanted to know about him. I told him that he keeps me safe, and since it was part of my job to keep them safe, he was watching over them too. I told them that if they saw him again, just to wave, and he'd know that they were ok.
It worked. There were no more incidents of 'ghosts' being seen, and a couple of the girls the next morning told me they'd seen him a couple times during the night when they got up to use the woods.
But before that, one of the girls came to me and said "S is crying, and we don't know why." I went over to her, and she broke my heart.
"You're lucky. I don't have a guardian angel."
"Sweetie, everyone does. Why do you think you don't?"
"Because he didn't keep me safe." Chills.
"Safe from what?"
"My babysitter."
See, LDs, she told me that the boy down the street (who was her and her sibling's babysitter) had touched her where he shouldn't, and when she tried to tell her dad, he didn't belive her. Her teacher didn't believe her.
I did. I'd had that happen to me before, and was too afraid to tell anyone.
I told her I believed her, and that we should really tell someone else who would believe her. She was scared, but she agreed. I sent our unit leader over to her, and S told her. I was shaken, LDs. To my very core.
The next day, I was called to the head counselor's office, and the camp priest was there. I told them my story, and they said it was the same as my unit leader's. They put the steps in motion.
When her dad came and got her on Saturday, I didn't like him on sight. They left, but not after lots of hugs and a 'thank you' from S.
A couple of weeks later, our head counselor called me in again and she was happy.
"She lives with her grandparents now."
Tears of joy, LDs.
And that is why this is my most memorable camping trip ever. It may not have been a trip per se, but we were camping.
~~
I've started reading Mama Kat, and she posts a Weekly Writing Prompt. You post using one of her prompts, then link up on Thursday. Obviously, I picked the most memorable camping trip. I think I'm in love. :)
Heepwah, and be safe out there.
Your bookie
Ms D
Dreamlet 27 July 2010
*** Note: you may have noticed that there were two 25 July Dreamlets. I have changed the second to read 26 July. I'm an idiot. That is all. ***
~~
Very weird. See, LDs, about three weeks ago, I smashed my left middle finger (o darn that it had to be 'that' finger) in a SA drop box. Those lids are very, very heavy. It's not broken, but as of now, the nail has separated from the base, but is still attached several other places, so it's not like I can just take it off with some hydrogen peroxide and antibacterial soap...although I wish I could. Anyway, part of my dreams stem from that. O, and I was up an hour early for 'the witching hour.'
Playing basketball with the kids I went to grade school with, but we're all adults. They made the guys play the first half of the game, and they were getting their asses handed to them. A girl on the other team told me she could fix my finger, so we went up top to the first aid station (that looked like a choir loft in a really fancy church) so she could fix it. She strapped my arm down, did some stuff that was only mildly painful (won't go into it...it was kind of gross), and my finger was fine, except for the ache.
~~
Strange thing was, when I woke up about 2am, my finger was aching and I couldn't feel the nail. I was worried that I'd pulled it off in my sleep, but feeling came back and the nail's still there (boo).
Took me forever to get back to sleep, and I never did find out if we won the game or not.
I'm tired today. Tired and grumpy and want to go through more boxes. Think I might tackle the craft box tonight and get it organized (woo boy, that's going to be a fun one!).
Am I the only weird one out there who has dreams like this, or am I the only one crazy enough to post them here?
Told you I have a weird imagination.
Heepwah, and be safe out there.
Ms D
~~
Very weird. See, LDs, about three weeks ago, I smashed my left middle finger (o darn that it had to be 'that' finger) in a SA drop box. Those lids are very, very heavy. It's not broken, but as of now, the nail has separated from the base, but is still attached several other places, so it's not like I can just take it off with some hydrogen peroxide and antibacterial soap...although I wish I could. Anyway, part of my dreams stem from that. O, and I was up an hour early for 'the witching hour.'
Playing basketball with the kids I went to grade school with, but we're all adults. They made the guys play the first half of the game, and they were getting their asses handed to them. A girl on the other team told me she could fix my finger, so we went up top to the first aid station (that looked like a choir loft in a really fancy church) so she could fix it. She strapped my arm down, did some stuff that was only mildly painful (won't go into it...it was kind of gross), and my finger was fine, except for the ache.
~~
Strange thing was, when I woke up about 2am, my finger was aching and I couldn't feel the nail. I was worried that I'd pulled it off in my sleep, but feeling came back and the nail's still there (boo).
Took me forever to get back to sleep, and I never did find out if we won the game or not.
I'm tired today. Tired and grumpy and want to go through more boxes. Think I might tackle the craft box tonight and get it organized (woo boy, that's going to be a fun one!).
Am I the only weird one out there who has dreams like this, or am I the only one crazy enough to post them here?
Told you I have a weird imagination.
Heepwah, and be safe out there.
Ms D
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Dreamlet 26 July 2010
I don't remember dreaming last night, LDs. I know I did, but I remember nothing. I was out cold just after 10pm, and that's not normal for me.
Anyone else have a good night's sleep?
I. Need. Coffee.
Cause the Diet Coke just ain't doin it.
Heepwah, and be safe out there.
Ms D
Anyone else have a good night's sleep?
I. Need. Coffee.
Cause the Diet Coke just ain't doin it.
Heepwah, and be safe out there.
Ms D
Monday, July 26, 2010
Bitch and Moan Monday
Like Kisha, I generally try to be a happy person, and I uber-hate confrontations. But sometimes rainbows and fucking glitter have to take a backseat to fire and brimstone and the half-evil side of me coming out (Mr Realist thinks I need a 333 tattoo). It's why I'm
~~
I STILL have not heard anything from the camp. They stopped taking resumes on the 15th; I got another ACA email with the position still on it on the 16th (which overlap is understandable); and I emailed her on the 20th, asking if there were any questions that needed to be answered.
Nothing. No form email, no response at all. Come on...seriously? W. T. F.?
Now...do I call, or just email her again, or send an actual letter telling her 'thanks for her time'?
This is really starting to bum me out. I wouldn't think that they would have gotten THAT many resumes that they couldn't shoot an email telling me either the position has been filled or they're still reviewing or 'you're an idiot'? Grrr.
This would be a dream job. Keep praying, please.
Heepwah, and be safe out there
Ms D
Dreamlet 25 July 2010
Seriously? I have some messed up dreams! I was tossing and turning all night, so there were two distinct dreamlets that I remember.
~~
At work. Bouncing between my current job and my old job.
Having to sit in someone else's messy office and I can't find anything.
There's a tornado coming across the field to the west of us (IRL, it's another factory), and I'm watching Cami (my Chevy Cobalt) get rocked, and then lifted up and slammed through the first floor of plate glass windows (IRL, they're only about half windows that don't open). I've got papers and notes and all kinds of things in my now-destroyed car that are being scattered to the four winds that I have to track down.
Guess who's fault it is that my car is now inside my workplace?
Mine.
~~
2nd sleep:
Remember the friend I'm having dinner with? It had to get moved to this Wednesday due to work conflicts. So...
Mr Realist and I are on the way to Decatur (for why, I don't know), and I decided that we're going to stop off and check out this little hole-in-the-wall diner. We poke around, and E pulls into the small gravel lot. I give him a big hug, and introduce him to Mr Realist; they get along and Mr R doesn't want to kill him.
We have dinner, then E has things for me - all duck stuff (I collect them...or I used to. Have too many). So I get my things and Mr Realist and I head out. No conflict, no worries.
~~
I'm such a weirdo. I'll have a Bitch and Moan Monday for you later.
Just had to get these out before I forgot.
Heepwah, and be safe out there.
Ms D
~~
At work. Bouncing between my current job and my old job.
Having to sit in someone else's messy office and I can't find anything.
There's a tornado coming across the field to the west of us (IRL, it's another factory), and I'm watching Cami (my Chevy Cobalt) get rocked, and then lifted up and slammed through the first floor of plate glass windows (IRL, they're only about half windows that don't open). I've got papers and notes and all kinds of things in my now-destroyed car that are being scattered to the four winds that I have to track down.
Guess who's fault it is that my car is now inside my workplace?
Mine.
~~
2nd sleep:
Remember the friend I'm having dinner with? It had to get moved to this Wednesday due to work conflicts. So...
Mr Realist and I are on the way to Decatur (for why, I don't know), and I decided that we're going to stop off and check out this little hole-in-the-wall diner. We poke around, and E pulls into the small gravel lot. I give him a big hug, and introduce him to Mr Realist; they get along and Mr R doesn't want to kill him.
We have dinner, then E has things for me - all duck stuff (I collect them...or I used to. Have too many). So I get my things and Mr Realist and I head out. No conflict, no worries.
~~
I'm such a weirdo. I'll have a Bitch and Moan Monday for you later.
Just had to get these out before I forgot.
Heepwah, and be safe out there.
Ms D
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Dreamlet 24 July 2010
My apologies, LDs, for not posting one on Friday. I rightly don't remember dreaming anything. But last night?
Was. A. Weird'un.
~~
I'm a military pilot (yeah, right!). I have to fly to this village where children are being stalked by closet monsters and they can leave the house, but they can't move away. I remember closet doors that slid shut, paper mache (yeah, probably not spelled right) decorations in rainbow colors, four flights of stairs, and a quick change from flight uniform to doctor scrubs.
And I swear I did not do acid Saturday night.
Might have been the loads of bleu cheese I had on my salad at Lone Star for Mumsy Dreamer's 51st birthday (Mr Realist and I took her to supper). That shiz'll mess you up, LDs. :)
~~
Got to see FIL and s-MIL today - went to supper at the pizza place uptown.
Hope your weekend was fab!
Heepwah, and be safe out there
Your quite strange
Ms D
Friday, July 23, 2010
Dreamlet 22 July 2010
Geena Davis (have no idea why)
...and that's really the only thing about my dreams last night that I remember. Kinda sad, huh?
I'd like to be able to write them down, but I'm not fully awake yet when I do get up, and I can't see to write in the dark. Boo.
Is anyone else looking forward to the weekend as much as I am? Sheesh.
And I think I'm going to have to resign myself to the fact that I'm not qualified to do anything more than what I'm doing now. I haven't heard from the camp, and I even emailed the hiring director on Tuesday...no response at all, not even a "we're still reviewing resumes."
I'm trying quite hard not to think about that today.
Heepwah, and be safe out there.
Ms D
...and that's really the only thing about my dreams last night that I remember. Kinda sad, huh?
I'd like to be able to write them down, but I'm not fully awake yet when I do get up, and I can't see to write in the dark. Boo.
Is anyone else looking forward to the weekend as much as I am? Sheesh.
And I think I'm going to have to resign myself to the fact that I'm not qualified to do anything more than what I'm doing now. I haven't heard from the camp, and I even emailed the hiring director on Tuesday...no response at all, not even a "we're still reviewing resumes."
I'm trying quite hard not to think about that today.
Heepwah, and be safe out there.
Ms D
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Update (good Lord...)
I know, LDs. I KNOW!
Three times in one day!
I've updated The Library tab. Over the weekend, I'll get in there and update more fully.
But I'm well over 80 books I know of for sure.
Heepwah, and be safe out there.
Ms D
Three times in one day!
I've updated The Library tab. Over the weekend, I'll get in there and update more fully.
But I'm well over 80 books I know of for sure.
Heepwah, and be safe out there.
Ms D
Written Word Wednesday
LDs, I'd love to have your input...that is, if you're a reader and likes the romancy-stuff.
Ya see, I've got a story that I just can't work out how K & mum semi-reconcile their differences (if they even do). K ran away from home when she was sixteen because of abuse. She's pushed her family out of her mind and doesn't want to think about them. Eleven years later, she runs into her mum and doesn't recognize her...until two days later. She's getting married, and she wants to either put her mum out of her life completely, or work toward rebuilding that relationship.
I've been getting some cheese-tastic ideas - most of them involve K going and shanking her mum in the middle of the beach or something equally violent.
While there for a while, that's what I wanted to do to my mum and stepdad when I was still living with them, this is a romance, and I'd really like there to be a happy ending (not that kind, feckin pervs).
If anyone out there has some input from a psychological or personal experience perspective (you don't have to tell me which one; stay anon for all I care). I'm just stuck.
Mind you this, K is still planning a wedding, selling a couple of art studios, and getting ready to move all the way from California to South Carolina.
Thoughts? Ideas? Tell me to shank mum on the beach? :) I'm not above using Facebook, Twitter, or any of the other social media sites for initial contact. You'll have to suspend your disbelief in the fact that in eleven years, K really has had NO desire to contact her mother (who is now on her third marriage).
If you want, email me and we can talk about it. I know there are some of you on my FB page (see sidebar); there was a discussion going a few months ago, but it was kind of vague (at least for me).
Help a sister out.
Heepwah, and be safe out there.
Ms D
Ya see, I've got a story that I just can't work out how K & mum semi-reconcile their differences (if they even do). K ran away from home when she was sixteen because of abuse. She's pushed her family out of her mind and doesn't want to think about them. Eleven years later, she runs into her mum and doesn't recognize her...until two days later. She's getting married, and she wants to either put her mum out of her life completely, or work toward rebuilding that relationship.
I've been getting some cheese-tastic ideas - most of them involve K going and shanking her mum in the middle of the beach or something equally violent.
While there for a while, that's what I wanted to do to my mum and stepdad when I was still living with them, this is a romance, and I'd really like there to be a happy ending (not that kind, feckin pervs).
If anyone out there has some input from a psychological or personal experience perspective (you don't have to tell me which one; stay anon for all I care). I'm just stuck.
Mind you this, K is still planning a wedding, selling a couple of art studios, and getting ready to move all the way from California to South Carolina.
Thoughts? Ideas? Tell me to shank mum on the beach? :) I'm not above using Facebook, Twitter, or any of the other social media sites for initial contact. You'll have to suspend your disbelief in the fact that in eleven years, K really has had NO desire to contact her mother (who is now on her third marriage).
If you want, email me and we can talk about it. I know there are some of you on my FB page (see sidebar); there was a discussion going a few months ago, but it was kind of vague (at least for me).
Help a sister out.
Heepwah, and be safe out there.
Ms D
Dreamlet 21 July 2010
** Nothing in particular. It was all sketchy this morning.
Running from something.
Performing in front of people.
A man, caressing his fingers down the inside of her arm.
Spirits.
"I'll wait. Forever, if I have to."
"I'm not really here."
"What do you mean?"
"I'm a two-worlder. Caught between here and after."
"Sarah?"
"Who's Sarah?"
"Sorry. I thought you were someone else."
"I'm Kristin. What's your name?"
"A-Alan. You look so much like her...."
"I love you."
"You can't."
"Because? Oh. That."
~~
Weird, huh?
Heepwah, and be safe out there.
Ms. D
Running from something.
Performing in front of people.
A man, caressing his fingers down the inside of her arm.
Spirits.
"I'll wait. Forever, if I have to."
"I'm not really here."
"What do you mean?"
"I'm a two-worlder. Caught between here and after."
"Sarah?"
"Who's Sarah?"
"Sorry. I thought you were someone else."
"I'm Kristin. What's your name?"
"A-Alan. You look so much like her...."
"I love you."
"You can't."
"Because? Oh. That."
~~
Weird, huh?
Heepwah, and be safe out there.
Ms. D
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
ICLW - Part Two
Hello out there! If you want to know more about me, check out the tabs at the top. If you don't, no worries. But I posted this one a couple of months ago, and figured it would be ok as a fun kind of introduction for me, Ms D.
If you've noticed (reading back posties) that I call my readers "LDs," I'll tell you why. If you like Lady Gaga (which I totally do), you'll know that she calls her fans her "little monsters." Since I am the Dreamer of Dreamer and Realist, you guys are my LDs - my "little dreamers."
If you've noticed (reading back posties) that I call my readers "LDs," I'll tell you why. If you like Lady Gaga (which I totally do), you'll know that she calls her fans her "little monsters." Since I am the Dreamer of Dreamer and Realist, you guys are my LDs - my "little dreamers."
On with the incidentals:
if i were a month i’d be october [my fave holiday is in october]
if i were a day i’d be saturday [love sleeping in]
if i were a time of day i’d be 7.18pm [totally an arbitrary time, but it's in the evening]
if i were a font i’d be magik [go HP]
if i were a sea animal i’d be a hammerhead shark [they're pretty bad ass]
if i were a direction i’d be northwest [where I'd like to visit and possibly move]
if i were a piece of furniture i’d be a comfy recliner [I so wish we had one]
if i were a liquid i’d be water [I'm an Aquarius, duh]
if i were a gemstone i’d be moonstone [so pretty]
if i were a tree i’d be a cedar [it's my celtic horoscope tree]
if i were a tool i’d be a hoe [pun intended]
if i were a flower i’d be a daisy [my favorite]
if i were an element of weather i’d be a tidal wave [still water, LDs]
if i were a musical instument i’d be a guitar [I want to learn to play]
if i were a color i’d be white [white is all color]
if i were an emotion i’d be peaceful (at the moment) [it's quiet here for a change]
if i were a fruit i’d be an apple [again, my favorite]
if i were a sound i’d be the water in a creek [um, seeing a pattern here]
if i were an element i’d be a fundamental one :) [for a friend]
if i were a car i’d be a old Chevy truck [have always wanted one]
if i were a food i’d be pizza [it's the ultimate food]
if i were a place i’d be the mountains [in the northwest]
if i were material i’d be canvas [soft yet durable]
if i were a taste i’d be sherry [a little tart, a little sweet]
if i were a scent i’d be clean cotton [one of my favorite scents]
if i were a body part i’d be a hand [to comfort]
if i were a song i’d be 'Human' [B-Flow is fuckin hot]
if i were a bird i’d be a sparrow [freedom]
if i were a gift i’d be love
if i were a city i’d be london [where I want to visit]
if i were a door i’d be a screen door [open yet sheltered]
if i were a pair of shoes i’d be airwalks [what I have on my hobbit feet now]
if i were a poem i’d be one of my own [best kind]
if i were a month i’d be october [my fave holiday is in october]
if i were a day i’d be saturday [love sleeping in]
if i were a time of day i’d be 7.18pm [totally an arbitrary time, but it's in the evening]
if i were a font i’d be magik [go HP]
if i were a sea animal i’d be a hammerhead shark [they're pretty bad ass]
if i were a direction i’d be northwest [where I'd like to visit and possibly move]
if i were a piece of furniture i’d be a comfy recliner [I so wish we had one]
if i were a liquid i’d be water [I'm an Aquarius, duh]
if i were a gemstone i’d be moonstone [so pretty]
if i were a tree i’d be a cedar [it's my celtic horoscope tree]
if i were a tool i’d be a hoe [pun intended]
if i were a flower i’d be a daisy [my favorite]
if i were an element of weather i’d be a tidal wave [still water, LDs]
if i were a musical instument i’d be a guitar [I want to learn to play]
if i were a color i’d be white [white is all color]
if i were an emotion i’d be peaceful (at the moment) [it's quiet here for a change]
if i were a fruit i’d be an apple [again, my favorite]
if i were a sound i’d be the water in a creek [um, seeing a pattern here]
if i were an element i’d be a fundamental one :) [for a friend]
if i were a car i’d be a old Chevy truck [have always wanted one]
if i were a food i’d be pizza [it's the ultimate food]
if i were a place i’d be the mountains [in the northwest]
if i were material i’d be canvas [soft yet durable]
if i were a taste i’d be sherry [a little tart, a little sweet]
if i were a scent i’d be clean cotton [one of my favorite scents]
if i were a body part i’d be a hand [to comfort]
if i were a song i’d be 'Human' [B-Flow is fuckin hot]
if i were a bird i’d be a sparrow [freedom]
if i were a gift i’d be love
if i were a city i’d be london [where I want to visit]
if i were a door i’d be a screen door [open yet sheltered]
if i were a pair of shoes i’d be airwalks [what I have on my hobbit feet now]
if i were a poem i’d be one of my own [best kind]
Heepwah, and be safe out there
Ms D
ICLW Introduction
LDs, this month, I'm going to try my hand at the ICLW. It's the International Comment Leaving Week.
Good Lord, I have no idea how to introduce myself. I could do a numbers post a la Mrs Gamgee. But I'm not that good with numbers.
I could randomly spew out words. Course, I normally seem to do that.
I look at the list of ICLW participants, and I noticed something.
I'm not a mother, nor do I want to be. At one point, we did, but I'm too selfish with myself and Mr Realist; he feels the same. And most of the peeps are about being a mom or infertility or loss or TTC. I feel like I've stumbled into an alternate universe, and at some point, someone's going to turn and point and "Shun the non-believer!" I've only run across one...two... a total of nine blogs who's description doesn't say anything about children from start to finish.
That's nine out of one hundred and seventy-four. Six percent, LDs. I feel way out of place. I don't know if I can comment about miscarriages or infertility, pregnancy or loss, since I have experienced none of these things. If you're of the other 94% that come here, please don't take this post the wrong way. I pray for everyone who wants children and can't have them. I pray for those trying to adopt. I pray that pregnancies go well and stay sticky and you have a beautiful baby at the end of all the prayers and tests and drugs and heartbreak.
So, for my first month ICLWing, I'm going to hit the ones that I would feel less like an outsider. Bear with me, LDs. I think I'll do an intro post next. Everyone is welcome.
Heepwah, and be safe out there.
Ms Dreamer
Good Lord, I have no idea how to introduce myself. I could do a numbers post a la Mrs Gamgee. But I'm not that good with numbers.
I could randomly spew out words. Course, I normally seem to do that.
I look at the list of ICLW participants, and I noticed something.
I'm not a mother, nor do I want to be. At one point, we did, but I'm too selfish with myself and Mr Realist; he feels the same. And most of the peeps are about being a mom or infertility or loss or TTC. I feel like I've stumbled into an alternate universe, and at some point, someone's going to turn and point and "Shun the non-believer!" I've only run across one...two... a total of nine blogs who's description doesn't say anything about children from start to finish.
That's nine out of one hundred and seventy-four. Six percent, LDs. I feel way out of place. I don't know if I can comment about miscarriages or infertility, pregnancy or loss, since I have experienced none of these things. If you're of the other 94% that come here, please don't take this post the wrong way. I pray for everyone who wants children and can't have them. I pray for those trying to adopt. I pray that pregnancies go well and stay sticky and you have a beautiful baby at the end of all the prayers and tests and drugs and heartbreak.
So, for my first month ICLWing, I'm going to hit the ones that I would feel less like an outsider. Bear with me, LDs. I think I'll do an intro post next. Everyone is welcome.
Heepwah, and be safe out there.
Ms Dreamer
Dreamlet 20 July 2010
I'll give you this disclaimer. It might be disjointed, and you might need an explanation (and I'll give you one if I have one), but this is how I dream:
** Mr Realist and I had a discussion last night. I'd been invited to dinner by a friend from high school that I haven't seen in more than ten years (and yes, it's a guy). I'm going, but Mr Realist wasn't invited. E is in Decatur for the next six weeks working on a job (he's a pipeliner), and he just wants to catch up. E is married. Mr Realist wasn't too thrilled that he wasn't invited. The last time we did something with a friend from high school, it was incredibly awkward, and they both felt left out because I was trying to keep them both included, and it wasn't working because they had nothing in common. Before you tell me that I shouldn't be going at all, know this: friends from high school who have made the effort to keep in touch or get back in touch deserve communication. And if they're close enough, dinner or lunch or coffee is what we do. I'm not an idiot.
~~
Sitting at the restaurant (mind you, it's in the town. I. Live. In. It's not like I'm going to a hotel bar...sheesh), E and I are laughing about something stupid someone did in hs when Mr Realist and a friend comes in. They're seated across the room, and Mr Realist keeps staring...until I notice him. He comes over.
me: "You followed me?"
him: "You were the one who told me where you were going. That's your fault."
me: "I was right. You don't trust me."
him: "Well, you are a passionate woman and you said you had a thing for him in high school."
me: "Are you serious? You could go out after work with the girls to the bar, especially when Tits was still there, and she hit all over you and I trusted you and I was just supposed to be ok with it?! I didn't follow you - I just called to see when you would be home. Oh, and I was just supposed to be ok when you drove home fucking drunk, and you thought it was funny? Fuck this."
And that's all I remembered when I woke up this morning.
Not pleasant, I know. But it's a dreamlet.
As I do this, I might include notes of stories that I'm working on.
What are you dreaming about?
Heepwah, and be safe out there
Ms D
** Mr Realist and I had a discussion last night. I'd been invited to dinner by a friend from high school that I haven't seen in more than ten years (and yes, it's a guy). I'm going, but Mr Realist wasn't invited. E is in Decatur for the next six weeks working on a job (he's a pipeliner), and he just wants to catch up. E is married. Mr Realist wasn't too thrilled that he wasn't invited. The last time we did something with a friend from high school, it was incredibly awkward, and they both felt left out because I was trying to keep them both included, and it wasn't working because they had nothing in common. Before you tell me that I shouldn't be going at all, know this: friends from high school who have made the effort to keep in touch or get back in touch deserve communication. And if they're close enough, dinner or lunch or coffee is what we do. I'm not an idiot.
~~
Sitting at the restaurant (mind you, it's in the town. I. Live. In. It's not like I'm going to a hotel bar...sheesh), E and I are laughing about something stupid someone did in hs when Mr Realist and a friend comes in. They're seated across the room, and Mr Realist keeps staring...until I notice him. He comes over.
me: "You followed me?"
him: "You were the one who told me where you were going. That's your fault."
me: "I was right. You don't trust me."
him: "Well, you are a passionate woman and you said you had a thing for him in high school."
me: "Are you serious? You could go out after work with the girls to the bar, especially when Tits was still there, and she hit all over you and I trusted you and I was just supposed to be ok with it?! I didn't follow you - I just called to see when you would be home. Oh, and I was just supposed to be ok when you drove home fucking drunk, and you thought it was funny? Fuck this."
And that's all I remembered when I woke up this morning.
Not pleasant, I know. But it's a dreamlet.
As I do this, I might include notes of stories that I'm working on.
What are you dreaming about?
Heepwah, and be safe out there
Ms D
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Dreamlets
I've been pondering this one, LDs. And I think I'm going to have to document. For the next week, when I wake up, I'll write down what I remember dreaming about.
This should give you insight to what I mean by the "300-ring circus of my imagination."
That is all.
Heepwah, and be safe out there.
Ms Dreamer
Bitch and Moan Monday...FUCK!
I love having friends. I love having dinner with friends. I hate staying up late to do a blog postie. So it's technically Tuesday, but you're getting my B&M Monday. Don't like it? Fuck off! :) And this one's going to be a fuck-filled journey. Climb in, sit down, shut up, and hang on!
Like Kisha, I generally try to be a happy person, and I uber-hate confrontations. But sometimes rainbows and fucking glitter have to take a backseat to fire and brimstone and the half-evil side of me coming out (Mr Realist thinks I need a 333 tattoo). It's why I'mromantically involved with Kisha's B&M Monday. I save up some nuggets of brimstone and tongues of flame, and let them all go on Mondays. It's a perfect fucking day to bitch. Mondays suck most of the time.
~~
I'll tell you something, LDs. I got to see Lady Fuckin Gaga on Saturday night in the Loo. Free bitch did a fabu job of popping my cherry.
My concert cherry, that is.
Yes, your Ms Dreamer had NEVER been to a concert before. She was worth the monies spent on the ticket. And because Kate and I are nice people, we scored some free SWAG. Be jealous, LDs. I ruled the weekend.
"But why is this going in Bitch and Moan Monday, Ms D?" I'll tell you why, LDs.
Because people are fucking rude and inconsiderate and need to be hit in the head with a hammer.
First off, it's one thing if your mom wants to go see Lady Fuckin Gaga with you; more power if she's old and wrinkly and grey haired. You get infinite cool points for that.
But you get your infinite cool points yanked the fuck away and kicked in the cuzif (thanks, B) when you take your FIVE YEAR OLD DAUGHTER to the same. fucking. show.
*bangs head against desk* Are you serious? We were on the floor, standing room only, people pushing and shoving and grabbing asses and beers were a'plenty and you think it's a good idea to bring your five year old? Dude, go jump off a fucking bridge. You. Are. An. Idiot.
Especially when the opening act is Semi Precious Weapons and hottie Justin's (lead singer with the fuck-me custom Stuart Weitzman boots that I so got to touch...*squee*) first line is "I can't pay my rent, but I'm fucking gorgeous!" and it's loud as fuck, and even with the earplugs, she's holding her hands over her ears. You. Are. An. Idiot. And I don't care if parents who read this disagree with me. I would never never never take a five year old to a concert unless it was the fucking Wiggles.
Sigh. Then...then...THEN...
In between SPW and Lady Fuckin Gaga, two skinny bitches (sorry if you are one; I'm a heavy-duty beauty, LDs) tried to worm their way up towards the front. Big girl #1 lit up like a siren:
"O hell no! You didn't come from up there, you're not getting in up there! You can go fucking stand in the back. We've all been here for three hours (note: it was more like an hour) and you can fuck off."
Skinny bitches: "But our friends are up there and we don't want to stand back here by ourselves."
BG#1: "you should have fucking thought about that before coming late. You want up there? You'd better go the fuck around and find some other dumb ass to let you in." (this went on for about two minutes. BG#1 was about to start raining down some big bitch fire when the security guard stepped over)
"What's going on?" BG#1 proceeded to let him know in no uncertain terms that the SBs were not cutting in front of her or anyone else around her (BG#2 and myself just smiled at the SBs like "Ain't no fuckin way."); BG#1's boyfriend/husband said they'd stepped on his feet and was pissed.
Security guard tells SBs to get back to the back; if they weren't there before, we didn't have to let them in.
It. Was. AWESOME!
After that, everything was golden. Had a blast, got $60 worth of free SWAG, and left happy, tired, and footsore.
~~
So, I still need prayers. Haven't heard anything from the camp.
What's got you Bitching and Moaning? Some dumbass scuff your brand new shoes? Kidlets having night terrors? Or is your life just fucking peachy?
Let us know, LDs.
Eb, I'll get to 'dreamlets' either tomorrow or Friday.
Heepwah, and be safe out there.
Ms Dreamer
Like Kisha, I generally try to be a happy person, and I uber-hate confrontations. But sometimes rainbows and fucking glitter have to take a backseat to fire and brimstone and the half-evil side of me coming out (Mr Realist thinks I need a 333 tattoo). It's why I'm
~~
I'll tell you something, LDs. I got to see Lady Fuckin Gaga on Saturday night in the Loo. Free bitch did a fabu job of popping my cherry.
My concert cherry, that is.
Yes, your Ms Dreamer had NEVER been to a concert before. She was worth the monies spent on the ticket. And because Kate and I are nice people, we scored some free SWAG. Be jealous, LDs. I ruled the weekend.
"But why is this going in Bitch and Moan Monday, Ms D?" I'll tell you why, LDs.
Because people are fucking rude and inconsiderate and need to be hit in the head with a hammer.
First off, it's one thing if your mom wants to go see Lady Fuckin Gaga with you; more power if she's old and wrinkly and grey haired. You get infinite cool points for that.
But you get your infinite cool points yanked the fuck away and kicked in the cuzif (thanks, B) when you take your FIVE YEAR OLD DAUGHTER to the same. fucking. show.
*bangs head against desk* Are you serious? We were on the floor, standing room only, people pushing and shoving and grabbing asses and beers were a'plenty and you think it's a good idea to bring your five year old? Dude, go jump off a fucking bridge. You. Are. An. Idiot.
Especially when the opening act is Semi Precious Weapons and hottie Justin's (lead singer with the fuck-me custom Stuart Weitzman boots that I so got to touch...*squee*) first line is "I can't pay my rent, but I'm fucking gorgeous!" and it's loud as fuck, and even with the earplugs, she's holding her hands over her ears. You. Are. An. Idiot. And I don't care if parents who read this disagree with me. I would never never never take a five year old to a concert unless it was the fucking Wiggles.
Sigh. Then...then...THEN...
In between SPW and Lady Fuckin Gaga, two skinny bitches (sorry if you are one; I'm a heavy-duty beauty, LDs) tried to worm their way up towards the front. Big girl #1 lit up like a siren:
"O hell no! You didn't come from up there, you're not getting in up there! You can go fucking stand in the back. We've all been here for three hours (note: it was more like an hour) and you can fuck off."
Skinny bitches: "But our friends are up there and we don't want to stand back here by ourselves."
BG#1: "you should have fucking thought about that before coming late. You want up there? You'd better go the fuck around and find some other dumb ass to let you in." (this went on for about two minutes. BG#1 was about to start raining down some big bitch fire when the security guard stepped over)
"What's going on?" BG#1 proceeded to let him know in no uncertain terms that the SBs were not cutting in front of her or anyone else around her (BG#2 and myself just smiled at the SBs like "Ain't no fuckin way."); BG#1's boyfriend/husband said they'd stepped on his feet and was pissed.
Security guard tells SBs to get back to the back; if they weren't there before, we didn't have to let them in.
It. Was. AWESOME!
After that, everything was golden. Had a blast, got $60 worth of free SWAG, and left happy, tired, and footsore.
~~
So, I still need prayers. Haven't heard anything from the camp.
What's got you Bitching and Moaning? Some dumbass scuff your brand new shoes? Kidlets having night terrors? Or is your life just fucking peachy?
Let us know, LDs.
Eb, I'll get to 'dreamlets' either tomorrow or Friday.
Heepwah, and be safe out there.
Ms Dreamer
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
DOH!
LDs, I have a hard time coming up with posties. Like I said in the previous one, I seem to lean toward the bitchy side. I'm not always like that, and I'm vowing to spend more time looking at the positive.
Of course, I still like the word-association posties. And I put it out on my Facebook to give me one word ideas for posties. The following is what I received:
Speck: such as?
Hack: chickenisgood
Ms D (that's me!): @Speck - whatever; @Hack - technically, that IS one word... :)
Rob: flubbergooten
Hack: YES, it is 1 word :)
Eb: dreamlets, unless you've used that already
Speck: CLOACA! or......PAAAANCAAAKES!!
Ms D: :)
Author: drunkenakedness. ...or poolparties. They go hand in hand.
Speck: fuhjayjaytwinkles!! {this could go on forever...Lol}
Ando: Kriegspielen
NB: shitstorm, clusterfuck, orgy, gangbang, 3sum, asssex, uhm, alrightythen, douchbag, fuckstick, peckertrack, condom, remote, vibrator, dildo, lube, safesex, NCIS. Is that enough? I have more.
Rob: who knew the english language was so full...lol
Speck: Wait everyone, I've got it. "PICKLESMOKER"!! I heard that one on 105.7 the point radio station while driving home from work in St. Louis one day that I've come to refer to as the "men are assholes and love is a carnival trick" phase of my life, lol. I thought it was hilarious! That, or one from my scientifically cognisant but funny-sounding arsenal--"spandrel" :):)
Ando: Speck, sorry to spoil the mood, but NB, you missed "fuck-ass" ("Oh please tell me, Elizabeth, how exactly does one suck a fuck?") Ms D, please, please forgive....
"Samantha: when can I squeeze one out?
Donnie: not until eighth grade"
NB: Damnit!! Wait, that's another. lol
The Rube: goatroper that is all
Mr Realist: for Speck - RATFUCKER!
Author: Hey, in my defense-that rat was pretty hot.
Speck: they do serve rat...... :)
Can you see where my wonderful friends take such serious questions? :) So I posted: Ms D is now kicking herself for allowing her friends to run rampant with single word association... *smacks palm of hand to forehead* The responses?
Rob: Careful what u ask for
Speck: but you love us for our imaginative, albeit vulgar, but HILARIOUS contributions! :) you have lots to pick from now!
Ando: Ifn ye open a door, be prepared for whatever might come a'waltzin in. (Esp. considering the multi-variegated psychoses and neuroses among your friends [I hope to think mine are only neuroses]. Hope you regard my verbiage only kindly, and that you are well, ;).
NB: You asked for it Mrssy
Hack: here's a great blog word for you now "DOH" :)
Ms D: @Ando - I actually loved it. And all of my friends have various psychoses and neuroses. That's why I call them friends!; @Hack: I think that will actually be the title of the post!
Hack: haha I win. eat it sukkas :)
You know...it was kind of fun, but I'm going to have to use Eb's one from the original: dreamlets
Be eagerly anticipating my next postie, LDs. Because I love you all.
And you need some imagination.
And I still need prayers.
Heepwah, and be safe out there.
Your dreaming
Ms Dreamer
PS: and if you get the line reference, let me know, and I'll dedicate a postie to you. You can only enter if you didn't weigh in on the FB status!
Positive...
Mr Realist said something to me last night that I've been bandying about in my brain most of the day.
"When something comes up, you automatically go to the worst possible scenario."
Yeah...so I'm not disappointed when it does happen, and if it doesn't, it makes it that much sweeter.
But he's got a point. I think if I could open my head and put a lump of coal in there, in about three days, I'd have the Hope Diamond.
So. I'm trying to make more happy posts. I've noticed that I'm pretty reliable when it comes to Bitch and Moan Monday, but not so much any other time. I'm formulating a plan here, LDs. Next postie?
"DOH!"
And it's funny. Or it'll make you groan out loud.
At least, I think it is and will.
Just you wait.
Heepwah, and be safe out there.
One more day
Ms Dreamer
"When something comes up, you automatically go to the worst possible scenario."
Yeah...so I'm not disappointed when it does happen, and if it doesn't, it makes it that much sweeter.
But he's got a point. I think if I could open my head and put a lump of coal in there, in about three days, I'd have the Hope Diamond.
So. I'm trying to make more happy posts. I've noticed that I'm pretty reliable when it comes to Bitch and Moan Monday, but not so much any other time. I'm formulating a plan here, LDs. Next postie?
"DOH!"
And it's funny. Or it'll make you groan out loud.
At least, I think it is and will.
Just you wait.
Heepwah, and be safe out there.
One more day
Ms Dreamer
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
B&M Monday - Well, shit.
LD's, I'm quite sorry about not posting a Bitch and Moan Monday yesterday. Even though it was a LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONG weekend, not much pissed me off enough to bitch and moan about it. Besides, Mr Realist wanted to snuggle on the couch and watch X-Men (Wolverine and Cyclops? Fuckin hot.), and I had to oblige. :)
I'm still praying about the resume. Even casting runes (if you're puzzled, just ask).
I'm going to come up with a happy postie this evening. It is Tuesday, after all!
Love and kisses.
Heepwah, and be safe out there.
Ms Dreamer
I'm still praying about the resume. Even casting runes (if you're puzzled, just ask).
I'm going to come up with a happy postie this evening. It is Tuesday, after all!
Love and kisses.
Heepwah, and be safe out there.
Ms Dreamer
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Still Waiting...
I received a form email back. They're accepting resumes until the 15th, and then the calls will begin for first level phone interviews.
Keep praying for me, please. It's eating me up inside that I'll never be 'qualified' to do anything but customer service. Don't get me wrong - if you can do it, great. I'm just not cut out for it anymore.
Heepwah, and be safe out there.
Your incredibly nervous
Ms Dreamer
Thursday, July 8, 2010
From the brilliant and beautiful Calliope...stolen from Dragondreamer's Lair
SCATTERGORIES – it’s harder than it looks! Play here or let me know in the comments if you play on your blog. (note to those new to the game: these don’t have to be actual truths. If it helps- replace the word “you” in the questions & substitute it with “someone”.) Play on & use your imagination! Use the first letter of the answer to the first question to come up with answers for the rest. There is no wrong answer!
1. What is your favorite cool drink? Tea
2. Something you would put on or take off when hot? Tee shirt
3. Something you would yell if overheated? Trogdor!
4. Some place you would love to travel to if the temperature was above 90 degrees? Tok, Alaska
5. Something you would do in a rolling blackout? Tantric Sex
6. Something you would listen to with the top down? (I mean of your hypothetical convertible, but feel free to get creative) Tremble for My Beloved (Collective Soul)
7. Something you would rather be doing right now? see #5 (hey, it worked, right?)
8 . Some place that will always be hotter than where you are today? Tanzania
9. Something that sizzles when it touches the sidewalk? Toes!
10. Something that goes well with a barbecue? Tequila
So, head on over to the home of Scattergories: Heat Wave Editionand join in the fun.
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Worded Wednesday
LDs, all my posties are words. Like, duh.
But today, I'm asking you to send up some words for me.
As in prayer (to whomever you choose and if you do that sort of thing).
Not for my grosso finger...that's healing slowly.
But for a resume that I'm sending out tomorrow.
It's for a position at the summer camp I've talked about in the past. Full time. Year-round. In the woods.
Mr Realist and I have talked about it. He's incredibly unhappy with his job. He's figured out that while he loves learning how and why things work, he doesn't want to be in charge of anyone; that he'd be fine as a grunt laborer.
If I were to get this job, I would move down there, and he would stay here only as long as it takes to sell the house.
He'd be happier and I'd be happier.
Word it up, LDs. I need all the help I can get.
Heepwah, and be safe out there.
Your hoping
Ms Dreamer
Monday, July 5, 2010
Bitch and Moan Monday
~~
I really don't have much to Bitch and Moan about today, LDs.
With the exception that I smashed my left middle finger on Friday trying to be generous and donate stuff to our local Salvation Army. Those bin lids are fucking. heavy.
My finger's all swollen up, the nail is an interesting shade of purple, and I just want to cut the fucker off...but Vicodin's been my friend, LDs.
My sweet, sweet friend.
So typing? I'm learning how to use my ring finger for the E and the D keys. I should have left all my lovely lovely typos in this postie so you could see how bad it is. :)
The good thing about this? Lots and lots of sympathy from Mr Realist.
And I'm milking that part, LDs. With some chocolate syrup.
How was your Independence Day weekend? And your Monday?
Tell us all about it.
Heepwah, and be safe out there.
Your injured
Ms Dreamer
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