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Wednesday, Nov. 13, 2002 / 11:40 a.m. ~Impossible to Scream With a Knife Plunged Into One�s Throat~ I dreamed I was outside a house, and it was my house, large, brick. We were standing on a landing, maybe second floor, or higher, and I don�t know who the other person was, can�t even remember if it was male or female. Off to our right, behind the house, a lake was forming, a rock depression was filling up with water, and �our� dogs, two of them, were loving frolicking in it. As we stood and watched it fill, the dogs walking up the incline, it seemed more like a river, and then it was, a man made river, filling with water. The sun was shining, the sky was blue, and the men were finally filling the river. We expected it, it was nothing unusual, it was in fact welcome. I lived in the house, and I remarked how great it was to have water on both sides, a lake on one, a river on the other, how I felt like I lived on an island. I sat on the steps and told this person, �I think I�m going to stay here�, but he or she didn�t seem to care that much, had other plans I suppose. I was glad I made my decision though. Then I was suddenly in a shopping mall, and a killer was nearby, then it was �Manhunter�, or the newer version, �Red Dragon�, which I�ve not seen. I was watching a movie, but maybe I was in it, and I was not in danger of being killed, but I saw who was. The killer plunged a knife into his throat, this other person, and I heard a high pitch scream, not fitting at all. I couldn�t suspend my disbelief. How could this person be screaming with a knife plunged into his throat? It made no sense at all. The killer had on a Hannibal Lecter (spelling?) mask, and he was talking about why he was killing this person, or how, or something, and he plunged another knife into the man�s cheek. I don�t remember blood, but the person was alive through all of this, sitting, screaming, and again I thought how can he be screaming? His vocal chords were severed, right? A knife through the other cheek and I was holding a book over my face, trying not to see, this was getting ridiculous, this was not entertainment at all, and I woke up. ???????????????? I have NO idea where that came from. One minute I�m deciding to stay in my large brick island house, surrounded by man made rivers and lakes, watching dogs cavort in the sunshiny water filling fast from an artificial source, the next I�m watching a man writhe in agony, knives stuffed into his throat, his cheeks. Surely there was a connection?? Or not. Today is cold and sunny so far. Blue sky, yellow sun, trees of green, gold, red, brown. It�s lovely really. But on my way here I saw a fire engine, ambulance, police car, etc., blocking traffic on the Interstate going south. I thought what idiots, again, always, every day someone getting into some stupid accident, tailgating, failing to yield, driving like madmen, like, well, idiots, and holding up traffic for everyone else. I wanted to flee, but the trees looked so beautiful, I thought how much I love this city, this metro area, it�s my home, but all these assholes moved here and they keep moving here. If only they could simply go back to wherever they came from� I became really depressed, outrageously unsatisfied, unhappy, miserable even. Then I came into work and showed Kukla, Penelope and Quincey the Eddie Grant CD Mark lent me, we laughed at how funny he looks on the cover, like he�s in the midst of an aerobic workout, in his little short shorts, �And one, and two, and lift, and breathe, and work it!�, etc., and then D., the Supervisor, said �Electric Avenue� is being used in some Pantene commercial, then I told her how into commercial songs I am, how I�ve been buying CDs just from hearing the songs on commercials, and it escalated a bit, I changed my mood completely. Now the �new girl� is going on and on about some financial crisis, being �stressed out�, her roommate not having funds to pay rent, etc., and she�s loud, it�s too much. I have my own issues. I�m re-thinking the salt and pepper �Mammies� on my kitchen counter. My brother gave them to me about ten years ago, knowing I collect salt and pepper shakers, but they�ve always been very politically incorrect, but kitcshy and funny. Mammies. It said so on the box they came in, Salt and Pepper Mammies. He thought the box alone was just absurd and funny. I agreed. It wasn�t until that time Andrea came over after work and she saw them that I realized they are offensive. She�s young, she�s black, she�s very serious. I said, �They were a gift, I didn�t buy them�, and she said, �But you just have to keep them to put them on your counter�, and I said, �Um, yeah, I think they�re funny�. Look, I�m not burning crosses, it�s just campy, kitcshy (I know I�m spelling it wrong), I don�t mean any harm. I know, I know, no white person every did mean any harm. Anyway, now I�m thinking about the maintenance dude coming in to work on the garbage disposal, and I don�t want to offend him. I look at the Mammies sitting there, and suddenly they don�t seem so harmless anymore. They�ve only been sitting there, next to the Washington Monument and Capitol building salt and pepper shakers, for FIVE years! I�m used to seeing them. I need to move them now, I think. Here�s the thing. I set things down, I find a place for something, I set it there, it�s good, the place, I leave it, dust settles, it sits, I may dust, more likely not, but it�s just there. THERE. After a while I don�t even see it anymore. I have to really open my eyes wide to see any of the crap I�m used to seeing. Once I really look, everything�s changed. That�s how it feels now. I�m remembering 5 years ago, setting everything up, having Leigh and George over for dinner as part of our Full Moon Dinner Parties, cooking elaborate meals, showing off my new place, my new kitchen with all the counter space, then my library, all my books put in all the right places. All that went away, it all just sits now, like I�ve abandoned all I once cared about. I want to care again. I�m just so tired when I have the time. In other news� I think I�ve temporarily given up on �Sleazy World�. I think MTV could retire that series and I�d be okay with that. I had it on last night, but didn�t even watch. I left the room to write in my diary, or my journal, I don�t even remember, probably both. I just don�t care about the �characters� anymore. They�re caricatures of characters, they�re not even close to remotely resembling real people. How can it be the �Real World� when it couldn�t be any more unrealistic? I tuned in to see that one woman writhing all over that one man, listening to him refuse her (maybe it was the tail end of last week�s show, one I also decided not to watch�), thinking it was more like she was going to rape him than anything else, and I was embarrassed, I actually felt compelled to look away. Not really because of what they were doing, but because they were stupid enough to do it on camera, and that MTV was showing it, considering it worthy of entertainment value. Blech! I plan to do some cleaning at lunch, wash my dishes, put the Mammies in a drawer somewhere, clean out the utility room and call the apartment office to let them know what�s broken. Then we�ll just wait and see. It would�ve been nice to have heat this morning. Cost of the War in Iraq
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