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Sunday, Nov. 03, 2002 / 4:26 p.m. ~It's Just a Tease, Because I Can't Remember~ It was a marathon dream session. Marathon. Good ones. I awoke from them, synopsized (is that how you spell it?), and now I forget. Mostly. Marathon, did I say that? Sort of an impossible to get up because I am way too fucking busy dreaming sort of dream marathon situation. In one I was having sex. Yep. Actual sex. I have no idea who the guy was, but I was disappointed at his kissing ability. I was much better than he was. I was so busy in my dreams. I kept waking, exhausted, anxious to go back to it. They will come to me later, I just know it. Maybe I'll grab a pad and pen and write them down if they do. Oh, I said they will, so okay, I will. I'm still hazy from it. I wish I could latch on to just one right now, so I could write it here. I remember waking at one point and going over them. "Okay, I just dreamed that I ______, and then I was in _______, which led me to _______, and I woke up and went back and finished the one about _________, I've got to remember." Clearly I forgot. I just stood for half an hour at least, at least, washing dishes that filled my sink and both counters surrounding. I'm glad it's done, but it only makes me realize I really need to CLEAN. MORE. There's more to do, and I'm sad when I remember the times I did clean, when I cared, when I had company, cooked dinners for friends, how I have my mom's nice china and I never use it. And silver. And gold flatware too. It looks fabulous with my grandmother's old plates, the big ones with the gold paint mixed in with the flowers. Everyone who sees them says how beautiful they are, men, women, children..... I took tests on Emode last night. One told me I should be married, or WILL be married by August 27th, 2005. Okay. I have no desire to be married, but you see how I've got the date memorized already? I hold on to stuff like that. Like my mom reading my palm, telling me I'd have three children. I think about that all the time, sort of "HAH!"ing along with it. Then I think, well, I did have the three cats for a long time, before the one was killed and the other two rapidly died of stress-related illnesses, or stress-exacerbated illnesses..... they were sort of like children. My palm may have indicated they were my children. No actual error there. Here is what I hate most about Fall and Winter: cold hands and feet, and toilet seats. Sort of rhymes, doesn't it? Right now my hands are cold, makes it hard to type, but it wasn't so long ago my hands were hot, the veins would bulge, I hated coming in here and typing. I wish I could remember at least one of those dreams. Marathon, did I say that? Hours and hours and hours. One involved a hockey game. It all started on the sofa. Me, a cozy knitted throw, two cats, a TV tuned to HBO, sleep, interrupted sleep, restless sleep, dream-filled sleep. I woke at almost 7:00 a.m. to go to bed. I didn't wash my face. In one dream I was using my toothbrush to wash my face. It had liquid soap on it, I think, then I scrubbed a bar of soap with the bristles, to add more soap, scrubbed my face some more, and I was thinking that's not too good. To use later. That toothbrush is going to taste like soap when I use it next. My dreams are never very mysterious, they're always just whatever is on my mind, twisted a bit, of course, but worrying that Hugh Hefner would see my dirty toilet, well, I don't want anyone to see it, especially not Hef! Oh, and for the record, I would TOTALLY do Hugh Hefner. I know he's 75 or something, but I think he's hot. So sue me. Cold, waterlogged fingers. Still typing, with nothing to say. Only hinting at something. Dreams, a fookin' marathon dream session. Gladys spooned up against me under the covers. Norma on my robe I threw atop the covers. I knew one of them would like that. Maybe I can fault the day, the dreary looking gray day. The fact that sunshine never really tried to infiltrate the curtains with the moons and stars on them. Nothing was forcing me to get up. I'll write them down if I can remember. But I will say this, as Rainstripe often dreams of her old boyfriend, I often dream of mine. The long term relationship. We're getting back together, in my dreams. It's strained, every time, but we're back. I dreamed of him a couple nights ago..... I think now I'll make coffee. Yes, I know it's almost 5:00 in the afternoon. I am aware of this. And I never left my apartment, never went OUT to spend money, though I did order three CDs from SecondSpin.com last night. John Lee Hooker, Beck, The Wiseguys, and "The Matrix" soundtrack. Oh, FOUR!!! Whoo hoo! Which reminds me, "The Simpsons" is supposed to be good tonight.... you know, "Whoo hoooo!", that originated with them, yes? If I remember anything I'll note it, I'll be bahhhhhhhk. Cost of the War in Iraq
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