2008/12/21
last night i dreamed i had taken LSD and was running away from home. instead of causing the normal feelings LSD causes, it gave me the power to control how gravity affected me. i was bouncing like an astronaut on the moon, down fields of grass and onto a big ferry. i saw this guy i've only met once, in victoria, and he was on LSD too and told me to follow him off the boat, leaping across the water, and led me to a restaurant where my huge number one crush was working as a bartender. huge number one crush and i flirted crazily for a while while crush fed me vodkas. then we had a playful wrestling match in the 'lounge' area of the bar and i got flipped on my back and we started to make love right there in front of everyone and i was so happy, i used my anti-gravity LSD powers to float us right up to the ceiling.
2008/12/18
snow day
this morning, the sky faints pink, watery yellow, blue
and this damp cloth is pushing spilled coffee grounds around the counter.
i'm listening to a forecast that i'm totally numb to .
outside, my sparrow heart is trapped in a snowbank, fluttering softly and cold.
she was blindsided by the flurry of white from above
but i have no sympathy because she had warning.
the boughs had been groaning all night.
i'm washing a dish now, i've washed it twice, tinny radio news
has a flat effect on my face, i can't hide this broken rib much longer.
i keep pulling at the hem of my shirt, stretching it out, fatiguing it
the rib pokes out anyway and it aches purple, it aches black.
no amount of careful movement, no amount of gentle prodding
puts this rib back in place, it just burns there halfway between my gut and heart.
hey! you didn't owe me anything! and who would have been surprised,
everyone at that movie asked for a refund because the ending was so cliche,
and the starring roles were taken up by plain people
with predictable lines and worse, the camera work was shaky. amateurs.
the glamour was steam on the lens from the humid air
not the memory of some perfect night
not memory of compulsion nor the dimming of light. just hot air, all hot air.
i can't bend right
to sweep now and i hear the snow plow coming! oh, dammit.
i run outside to rescue my sparrow heart, deep inside i am tender towards her
even though she is stupid and careless and needs to be
taught a hard lesson. just not today.
i'm on my knees in an icy bank,
i'm scooping up handfuls of snow with raw red hands
it feels colder when my skin is hot from dishwater
and at the bottom, on patchy dead grass, there she lies still now,
still as an icicle, feathery chest lifts.
one glowing hand yanks at my shirt hem, it hurts as it pulls on a rib.
the other hand deposits her in the pocket of my spattered apron,
next to the crumpled movie ticket stub.
heat from the oven will revive her, i think.
and this damp cloth is pushing spilled coffee grounds around the counter.
i'm listening to a forecast that i'm totally numb to .
outside, my sparrow heart is trapped in a snowbank, fluttering softly and cold.
she was blindsided by the flurry of white from above
but i have no sympathy because she had warning.
the boughs had been groaning all night.
i'm washing a dish now, i've washed it twice, tinny radio news
has a flat effect on my face, i can't hide this broken rib much longer.
i keep pulling at the hem of my shirt, stretching it out, fatiguing it
the rib pokes out anyway and it aches purple, it aches black.
no amount of careful movement, no amount of gentle prodding
puts this rib back in place, it just burns there halfway between my gut and heart.
hey! you didn't owe me anything! and who would have been surprised,
everyone at that movie asked for a refund because the ending was so cliche,
and the starring roles were taken up by plain people
with predictable lines and worse, the camera work was shaky. amateurs.
the glamour was steam on the lens from the humid air
not the memory of some perfect night
not memory of compulsion nor the dimming of light. just hot air, all hot air.
i can't bend right
to sweep now and i hear the snow plow coming! oh, dammit.
i run outside to rescue my sparrow heart, deep inside i am tender towards her
even though she is stupid and careless and needs to be
taught a hard lesson. just not today.
i'm on my knees in an icy bank,
i'm scooping up handfuls of snow with raw red hands
it feels colder when my skin is hot from dishwater
and at the bottom, on patchy dead grass, there she lies still now,
still as an icicle, feathery chest lifts.
one glowing hand yanks at my shirt hem, it hurts as it pulls on a rib.
the other hand deposits her in the pocket of my spattered apron,
next to the crumpled movie ticket stub.
heat from the oven will revive her, i think.
2008/12/02
i have had this dream before. several times before, actually. in it, we remember that we have two more floors to our house, upstairs, behind a built-in bookshelf, sort of 'diary of anne frank' style. we don't know why we keep forgetting about them, because they are fantastic floors...better even than what we normally live in.
in this dream the topic comes up because we are talking with the children about how to re-arrange their sleeping quarters (this is happening in real life - julian wants to comandeer the rec room in the basement and astrid wants to take over his larger bedroom upstairs) and i said, well actually there's a top floor to our house that has a beautiful, beautiful attic bedroom with a big window that lets in lots of light. do you want to see?
of course they do! they are shocked we never brought it up before. i'm shocked that we've been forcing guests to sleep in the basement when all this time we had some beautiful rooms upstairs.
misha pulls open the bookcase and the children are wide-eyed at the staircase in behind. it's wide, and there is natural light pouring down from the upper floors because for some reason they are more windowed than the floors we have been living on. there are two upper levels. we begin to climb the staircase, and i note that the wallpaper and carpeting there are a bit tatty, but not awful. there is the sound of wildlife directly ahead of us and i wonder if we left a 'sounds of nature' tape running the last time we'd remembered to come up here.
the first floor we come out on is a luxuriantly decorated library. it looks straight out of a victorian better homes and gardens. floor to ceiling bookshelves lined with all manner of hardbacks. overstuffed antique chairs here and there. even a small wet bar tucked into a corner with a large mirror behind it, reflecting the scene back at us. everything is wine coloured velvet and mahogany and big lush plants. i hear the sound of a fountain. i look up and there is a glass dome in the ceiling with daylight pouring through. a butterfly floats past astrid's nose. we are all standing and spinning around in wonder at the room we had above our house that was apparently too good for us to live in. i begin to walk around, tracing my fingers here and there, joy and wonder filling my mind, my heart, every muscle. suddenly i recoil my hand as it touches something rough and scaly on one of the little intricately carved side tables. i look more closely and there is some kind of odd lizard there. small and dark blue, almost black. i summon the children and misha over to gaze at him with me. he has a large frill around his head, spiky. his eyes are mere black pinpricks in a sort of squat face. he regards us balefully when suddenly his tongue shoots out and he captures a butterfly with it, a butterfly at least half his size. we shout in surprise and then watch in morbid fascination as he attempts to eat it. its wings struggle against his mouth, against the air, against death. astrid is both horrified and philosophical: "poor butterfly. but lizard has to eat." the butterfly is gone in a few big chomps. and then even more suddenly, our little blue lizard is attacked by a larger lizard that had been camouflaged amongst some of the books on the table next to it. this one is a chameleon, i tell the children. its mouth is huge and wide and it seeks to devour the smaller lizard whole. the smaller lizard puts up a big fight and the children beg us to stop it because it is so brutal. but we don't, we just wait patiently. the bigger lizard has no teeth and his mouth seems too soft to do any real damage to the smaller lizard but in the end, we hear a critching sound indicating a crushed skull and the small lizard stops struggling immediately. i can't watch anymore. i turn. birds are flying around the glass dome above our heads and landing in the potted trees and palms around the room. i realize this is not only a library but some kind of self-contained ecosystem. how had we been living underneath such a marvelous thing for seven years and not visited it every day?
i continue on towards the next flight of stairs, the one that leads to the attic bedroom. this one also has plenty of daylight streaming down, casting dramatic shadows and showing me that the wallpaper here, cornflower blue and cream stripes, is also tatty and neglected. i move from the victorian botantist library upwards into a country house's attic. it is spotlessly clean, with faded blue-painted floors and whitewashed walls. centered under the peak of the roof is a huge round window, from where all the sunlight pours in. on either side of this window are double beds, blonde wood frames and thick mattresses, made up with warm handmade quilts, feather pillows, and crocheted throws. each bed has its own little white night stand that holds a reading lamp and a stack of books. there are small framed pictures hung around the room. a wardrobe at the opposite end. wooden chairs on spindly legs near a desk with a roll-down cover. at the foot of each bed, a chest. on top of each chest is propped a doll that looks to be made of raw cotton and stuffed with straw, its face painted on in raggedy-anne fashion. it is so quiet and bright. no sound floats up from the library below. i can hear my own breathing perfectly.
i walk softly across the faded blue floor to the window, expecting to look out over the parking lot of our townhouse complex. when i get there, though, i see the view is of a vast meadow, filled with waist high grass and tall yellow flowers. there is a hill that curves down and away and i suspect there is come kind of creek or river that passes by the house just beyond that slope. even further in the distance i see a swatch of trees, deciduous trees that don't belong here in BC at all. i put my fingers on the glass and wonder how to get out there. i know that if i walk back downstairs and out our front door, it really will just be our old townhouse parking lot. this bothers me a lot, and i wake up.
in this dream the topic comes up because we are talking with the children about how to re-arrange their sleeping quarters (this is happening in real life - julian wants to comandeer the rec room in the basement and astrid wants to take over his larger bedroom upstairs) and i said, well actually there's a top floor to our house that has a beautiful, beautiful attic bedroom with a big window that lets in lots of light. do you want to see?
of course they do! they are shocked we never brought it up before. i'm shocked that we've been forcing guests to sleep in the basement when all this time we had some beautiful rooms upstairs.
misha pulls open the bookcase and the children are wide-eyed at the staircase in behind. it's wide, and there is natural light pouring down from the upper floors because for some reason they are more windowed than the floors we have been living on. there are two upper levels. we begin to climb the staircase, and i note that the wallpaper and carpeting there are a bit tatty, but not awful. there is the sound of wildlife directly ahead of us and i wonder if we left a 'sounds of nature' tape running the last time we'd remembered to come up here.
the first floor we come out on is a luxuriantly decorated library. it looks straight out of a victorian better homes and gardens. floor to ceiling bookshelves lined with all manner of hardbacks. overstuffed antique chairs here and there. even a small wet bar tucked into a corner with a large mirror behind it, reflecting the scene back at us. everything is wine coloured velvet and mahogany and big lush plants. i hear the sound of a fountain. i look up and there is a glass dome in the ceiling with daylight pouring through. a butterfly floats past astrid's nose. we are all standing and spinning around in wonder at the room we had above our house that was apparently too good for us to live in. i begin to walk around, tracing my fingers here and there, joy and wonder filling my mind, my heart, every muscle. suddenly i recoil my hand as it touches something rough and scaly on one of the little intricately carved side tables. i look more closely and there is some kind of odd lizard there. small and dark blue, almost black. i summon the children and misha over to gaze at him with me. he has a large frill around his head, spiky. his eyes are mere black pinpricks in a sort of squat face. he regards us balefully when suddenly his tongue shoots out and he captures a butterfly with it, a butterfly at least half his size. we shout in surprise and then watch in morbid fascination as he attempts to eat it. its wings struggle against his mouth, against the air, against death. astrid is both horrified and philosophical: "poor butterfly. but lizard has to eat." the butterfly is gone in a few big chomps. and then even more suddenly, our little blue lizard is attacked by a larger lizard that had been camouflaged amongst some of the books on the table next to it. this one is a chameleon, i tell the children. its mouth is huge and wide and it seeks to devour the smaller lizard whole. the smaller lizard puts up a big fight and the children beg us to stop it because it is so brutal. but we don't, we just wait patiently. the bigger lizard has no teeth and his mouth seems too soft to do any real damage to the smaller lizard but in the end, we hear a critching sound indicating a crushed skull and the small lizard stops struggling immediately. i can't watch anymore. i turn. birds are flying around the glass dome above our heads and landing in the potted trees and palms around the room. i realize this is not only a library but some kind of self-contained ecosystem. how had we been living underneath such a marvelous thing for seven years and not visited it every day?
i continue on towards the next flight of stairs, the one that leads to the attic bedroom. this one also has plenty of daylight streaming down, casting dramatic shadows and showing me that the wallpaper here, cornflower blue and cream stripes, is also tatty and neglected. i move from the victorian botantist library upwards into a country house's attic. it is spotlessly clean, with faded blue-painted floors and whitewashed walls. centered under the peak of the roof is a huge round window, from where all the sunlight pours in. on either side of this window are double beds, blonde wood frames and thick mattresses, made up with warm handmade quilts, feather pillows, and crocheted throws. each bed has its own little white night stand that holds a reading lamp and a stack of books. there are small framed pictures hung around the room. a wardrobe at the opposite end. wooden chairs on spindly legs near a desk with a roll-down cover. at the foot of each bed, a chest. on top of each chest is propped a doll that looks to be made of raw cotton and stuffed with straw, its face painted on in raggedy-anne fashion. it is so quiet and bright. no sound floats up from the library below. i can hear my own breathing perfectly.
i walk softly across the faded blue floor to the window, expecting to look out over the parking lot of our townhouse complex. when i get there, though, i see the view is of a vast meadow, filled with waist high grass and tall yellow flowers. there is a hill that curves down and away and i suspect there is come kind of creek or river that passes by the house just beyond that slope. even further in the distance i see a swatch of trees, deciduous trees that don't belong here in BC at all. i put my fingers on the glass and wonder how to get out there. i know that if i walk back downstairs and out our front door, it really will just be our old townhouse parking lot. this bothers me a lot, and i wake up.
2008/11/28
little lady
what's it like to be so tiny?
with bean pole wrists and a long curved neck
like all the great poems describe?
a featherweight waist and martini glass breasts
what's it like to be so very,
very small?
the chiseled jaw-line and aquiline nose...
are your eyes really that big or is it
illusion as they perch, doe-like, over
high bones on gaunt cheeks?
and those ankles!
they could break like glass, like sugar!
in those teetery high heels
after only one gimlet
("but a double!" you insist).
i wonder how it feels to be smaller
than every man you meet
would i be (more) afraid, or would it be nice
to feel big arms around me
and to know i could be easily carried home
if i did fall down in those
impossible stilettos. those
twizzly shoes from a shop that
looks like a bright delicious candy store
from the outside looking in.
i think about those slender fingers:
they would be chilly, if they touched me.
rings would fall off if you didn't get them sized
and your thighs must never rub together
so your jeans don't grow thin in patches there.
your jeans could last your whole life!
probably everyone thinks you don't eat or throw up what you do
eat and maybe that annoys you or maybe it thrills you
but either way you
know this is just how you were meant to be.
so tiny. a silhouette of a bird creature.
silky soft and leafy light.
folded up in a window sill,
apt to take flight.
with bean pole wrists and a long curved neck
like all the great poems describe?
a featherweight waist and martini glass breasts
what's it like to be so very,
very small?
the chiseled jaw-line and aquiline nose...
are your eyes really that big or is it
illusion as they perch, doe-like, over
high bones on gaunt cheeks?
and those ankles!
they could break like glass, like sugar!
in those teetery high heels
after only one gimlet
("but a double!" you insist).
i wonder how it feels to be smaller
than every man you meet
would i be (more) afraid, or would it be nice
to feel big arms around me
and to know i could be easily carried home
if i did fall down in those
impossible stilettos. those
twizzly shoes from a shop that
looks like a bright delicious candy store
from the outside looking in.
i think about those slender fingers:
they would be chilly, if they touched me.
rings would fall off if you didn't get them sized
and your thighs must never rub together
so your jeans don't grow thin in patches there.
your jeans could last your whole life!
probably everyone thinks you don't eat or throw up what you do
eat and maybe that annoys you or maybe it thrills you
but either way you
know this is just how you were meant to be.
so tiny. a silhouette of a bird creature.
silky soft and leafy light.
folded up in a window sill,
apt to take flight.
2008/11/17
in my dream last night, i had a job in an office, i think it was at my mom's school, where she teaches. and i had to work late one night, and misha was also working, and while julian was ok with watching astrid til i got home, astrid was pissed that she was going to miss her evening theatre class. after much finagling, and talking it over with misha, we agreed that she could take the bus there by herself and then afterwards take it to my office, and we would go home together. i was under the impression that it was in our neighbourhood when i agreed to this and astrid kept insisting that she knew the way because daddy had brought her on the bus several times before that.
however, when it got dark outside, and the office clock said 5:00pm and it was time for me to go and she still wasn't at the office, i started to panic. i called misha and asked him exactly where the class was and to my surprise he told me it was in richmond (which involves riding the skytrain and TWO buses from our place). totally freaking out, i wandered from cubicle to cubicle telling people what was wrong and they either scoffed at me or acted uncomfortable or ignored me. i felt frantic. i kept saying, "i didn't even give her a cell phone so she could call me. i just let her go out there by herself. i'm a total idiot. should i phone the police or wait a while?"
then mom wandered in and i told her what had happened. she immediately told me to call the police. i was standing at the top of a stairway and there was a wall-mounted phone right there. mom was on the top step holding on to the handrail. i picked up the phone and started to dial when i heard the office door down below open and astrid was there, crying. my mom turned around and ran down the stairs and i hung up the phone and tried to follow. astrid was saying, "i hurt my knee, i hurt my knee, i want mommy," and my mom was clutching her and carrying her up the stairs saying, "don't worry, baby, we'll get you all cleaned up, it's ok, you're ok," and a bunch of people were crowding around and i had to shove my way past them all.
mom had astrid in a bathroom and was filling up a bathtub with hot water and undressing her. astrid was crying and holding her knee. i started crying in relief to see her and her little scraped knee and was about to embrace her when one of the other women said, "stop. stop touching her, stop cleaning her up. the police will want her to go to the hospital." she said it in this very weird, calm voice. i looked at her and then i looked back at astrid who was now stripped down completely and saw that it wasn't just her knee. her vulva was bruised and swollen and red and there was blood all over her. she was still rocking back and forth saying, "i was running and i fell and hurt my knee, mommy."
my mom realized what had happened at the same moment i did, and kind of doubled over and said, "oh god, oh god, oh astrid, oh god." i put my hand on mom's back and tried to reason with her to keep her head, to not let astrid see how upset we were because she'd clearly already been through too much and we had to be strong instead. but seeing my mom fall apart like that, and seeing my daughter all pale and shaken and clearly in shock and understanding what must have happened and knowing it was my fault for letting her go out on her own like that, well....i closed my eyes and tilted my head up to the ceiling and howled in anguish.
however, when it got dark outside, and the office clock said 5:00pm and it was time for me to go and she still wasn't at the office, i started to panic. i called misha and asked him exactly where the class was and to my surprise he told me it was in richmond (which involves riding the skytrain and TWO buses from our place). totally freaking out, i wandered from cubicle to cubicle telling people what was wrong and they either scoffed at me or acted uncomfortable or ignored me. i felt frantic. i kept saying, "i didn't even give her a cell phone so she could call me. i just let her go out there by herself. i'm a total idiot. should i phone the police or wait a while?"
then mom wandered in and i told her what had happened. she immediately told me to call the police. i was standing at the top of a stairway and there was a wall-mounted phone right there. mom was on the top step holding on to the handrail. i picked up the phone and started to dial when i heard the office door down below open and astrid was there, crying. my mom turned around and ran down the stairs and i hung up the phone and tried to follow. astrid was saying, "i hurt my knee, i hurt my knee, i want mommy," and my mom was clutching her and carrying her up the stairs saying, "don't worry, baby, we'll get you all cleaned up, it's ok, you're ok," and a bunch of people were crowding around and i had to shove my way past them all.
mom had astrid in a bathroom and was filling up a bathtub with hot water and undressing her. astrid was crying and holding her knee. i started crying in relief to see her and her little scraped knee and was about to embrace her when one of the other women said, "stop. stop touching her, stop cleaning her up. the police will want her to go to the hospital." she said it in this very weird, calm voice. i looked at her and then i looked back at astrid who was now stripped down completely and saw that it wasn't just her knee. her vulva was bruised and swollen and red and there was blood all over her. she was still rocking back and forth saying, "i was running and i fell and hurt my knee, mommy."
my mom realized what had happened at the same moment i did, and kind of doubled over and said, "oh god, oh god, oh astrid, oh god." i put my hand on mom's back and tried to reason with her to keep her head, to not let astrid see how upset we were because she'd clearly already been through too much and we had to be strong instead. but seeing my mom fall apart like that, and seeing my daughter all pale and shaken and clearly in shock and understanding what must have happened and knowing it was my fault for letting her go out on her own like that, well....i closed my eyes and tilted my head up to the ceiling and howled in anguish.
2008/11/06
letter to a former lover
an integral part of my beauty is my size,
the shape i take in your eyes,
the mutual-attraction surprise
when my hips-no-tize.
i trapped you in my thighs
and you sighed
'oh my'.
and i thought i'd feel more on guard and jaded
when it turned out i'd been berated
by a predilection unabated
since your desire was fated &
heretofore unsated;
you were only casually frustrated by
such a fetish unrated.
so what, who cares, if i'm only flesh for your eyes
and toes for your lips and
hips for your kiss
the spirit incidental, unmissed
just fractionated bits,
sectioned, unwhole
your stolen glimpses
of my fat eclipses:
the dionysian side of an apollonian life.
the shape i take in your eyes,
the mutual-attraction surprise
when my hips-no-tize.
i trapped you in my thighs
and you sighed
'oh my'.
and i thought i'd feel more on guard and jaded
when it turned out i'd been berated
by a predilection unabated
since your desire was fated &
heretofore unsated;
you were only casually frustrated by
such a fetish unrated.
so what, who cares, if i'm only flesh for your eyes
and toes for your lips and
hips for your kiss
the spirit incidental, unmissed
just fractionated bits,
sectioned, unwhole
your stolen glimpses
of my fat eclipses:
the dionysian side of an apollonian life.
2008/10/10
i dreamed i was watching a reality show about people training to become chefs. and one of the contestants, a young guy, in his 20s, was diagnosed with "a very rare but very aggressive form of adrenal gland cancer" only a couple of weeks away from graduation.
the show went on and on, and showed him going to the doctor, and breaking down in tears, and having to leave the dormitory of the school, and then had him going to some sort of cancer support group or something. and he was a kind of a big guy, on the heavy side, and one of the show's producers said to him during one of their private interview moments, "you do realize that you could have prevented your cancer if you'd actually taken care of yoursef. if you'd not let yourself become so fat. if you'd listened to all your family and friends and teachers when you were a kid and not been so lazy and gone and gotten exercise and everything, right?"
and the guy stood up from his chair and said, "what all those people did to me, the way they treated me, from the time i started to show signs of being a big kid, was not teach me how to take care of myself in a loving way, ok! they didn't teach me that! they taught me to hate myself! not to love myself. and how can you 'take care of yourself' when all you can feel is loathing when you look in the mirror and that's all reinforced by every person in an authority position your whole life! i didn't give myself cancer just like i didn't make myself fat. if anything they're as responsible for my current situation as i am. and you, sir, can shoulder some of the blame as well, for being a hate mongering exploitationist." and he totally just walked off camera and the voice over said he never came back to the show and they couldn't find out how he was doing anymore.
and i remember i was just laying on the couch watching this in disbelief and laughing and crying at the same time. i woke up feeling really fired up. sometimes it pays to have a smarty-pants subconscious.
the show went on and on, and showed him going to the doctor, and breaking down in tears, and having to leave the dormitory of the school, and then had him going to some sort of cancer support group or something. and he was a kind of a big guy, on the heavy side, and one of the show's producers said to him during one of their private interview moments, "you do realize that you could have prevented your cancer if you'd actually taken care of yoursef. if you'd not let yourself become so fat. if you'd listened to all your family and friends and teachers when you were a kid and not been so lazy and gone and gotten exercise and everything, right?"
and the guy stood up from his chair and said, "what all those people did to me, the way they treated me, from the time i started to show signs of being a big kid, was not teach me how to take care of myself in a loving way, ok! they didn't teach me that! they taught me to hate myself! not to love myself. and how can you 'take care of yourself' when all you can feel is loathing when you look in the mirror and that's all reinforced by every person in an authority position your whole life! i didn't give myself cancer just like i didn't make myself fat. if anything they're as responsible for my current situation as i am. and you, sir, can shoulder some of the blame as well, for being a hate mongering exploitationist." and he totally just walked off camera and the voice over said he never came back to the show and they couldn't find out how he was doing anymore.
and i remember i was just laying on the couch watching this in disbelief and laughing and crying at the same time. i woke up feeling really fired up. sometimes it pays to have a smarty-pants subconscious.
2008/09/30
i dreamed that julian went missing for the better part of an afternoon and evening. we suspected he'd taken the bus to the wave pool so i went on a big hunt for him. he was supposed to be carrying his dad's cell phone but he wouldn't answer it. it took forever and i was becoming frantic. just as i was standing on a street corner begging people to help me, my cell rang. on the other end was julian, only his voice was deep like a man's. i asked him where he'd been, and told him how worried i was and why didn't he call us? he said he was busy. i said, doing what? he mumbled something and when i asked him to repeat it, he wouldn't it. then it dawned on me that he'd gone and had sex with someone. "BUT YOU'RE ELEVEN," i cried. "not anymore, mommy," he said, in his big man voice.
*shudder*
*shudder*
2008/09/14
two
dream I
i was living in a co-op townhouse situation and was having trouble with one of the other famillies that lived there. a single mom with an impossible number of children (8 or more) of varying ages from infancy up to pre-teen was being very irresponsible and neglectful of them. one day one of the kids knocked on my door and said there was a problem in their house and could i come help? so i walked over and she directed me upstairs. i went into the one of the bedrooms and there, propped up in the corner like a kind of oversized doll, was one of the older girls - 9 or so - dead. the smaller children were crawling all over her lap and combing her hair and putting gold lipstick on her. she looked kind of like an egyptian queen or something.
i became very enraged. no one could tell me how she died. and the mom wasn't home (of course). so i decided i would hunt her down and began walking down towards a shopping centre in the area. as i got nearer, i had to cross a very busy highway situation and there in the middle of the road was a shopping trolley with another one of her kids - this one not more than 2 years old - just sitting in it, abandoned, and crying hysterically. i rushed over and picked him up and pushed the cart across the street. i then stormed all through the strip mall looking for her. i finally found her in a hair salon getting her nails done or something. i shoved the baby into her lap and started yelling at her. "your oldest daughter is dead and your younger children are in danger and you're here getting your make-up done? what the fuck is your problem, lady?" her demeanor was flippant and uncaring and i wanted to smash her face in. instead i pulled out my cellphone and started to dial 911. then i woke up.
dream II
i was in the lounge area of a huge fancy hotel (i think it was called 'the regent'). i was sitting at a table, naked, and seated across from me was naked jeff goldblum (shuttup). i slowly came to the realization that this was some kind of swinging sex club thing happening, and he was my date. it was very exciting! i got up to get myself another drink from the bar because the waitress hadn't been around for a while and jeff said he didn't feel comfortable standing up "right that second" (again, shuttup). when i got to the bar, i was ordering my drink, when i heard a woman behind me say, "look at that disgusting fat cow over there. who let her in? i thought this place screened their participants. the quality of clientele is really going to shit. god, seriously." and her friend said, "yeah, ew. who feels like fucking when you have to look at that beforehand?"
this infuriated me. after i got my drink i turned around to look them in the eyes. they were your typical tight bodied bleach blonde LA aspiring actresses. i stalked (and jiggled) my way over to their table and said, "who are you two to talk, you scrawny bimbos? you WISH you could make your fake tans look as good as i make my fat look. if you were smart you wouldn't try to pick on a woman twice your size, either. you're as dumb as you are talentless."
they threw a few more insults my way as i walked back to the table where jeff was waiting for me. he was furious.
"you're not just going to take that from them, are you?"
"what?"
"well, they're still over there, looking at you and snickering and pointing at you. you should put a stop to it once and for all."
"you really think so?"
he nodded.
i thought it over for a couple of minutes. then i downed my drink in one fell swoop, stood up, and walked back over to their table. only one of them was missing. her compatriot said, "you got a problem, fatty?"
"where's your friend?"
"she went to the powder room. why?"
i ignored her and walked into the ladies room. just as i opened the door, the woman i was after was walking out. "what do you want?" she said. "to kick your ass," i replied. i only meant to rough her up a bit, scare her into shutting up. for some reason i had a handful of those tiny, multicoloured, crumbly wax birthday candles. she was backing away from me, up against a wall, and i threw a couple of candles at her, that hit her in the face. she said, "what the hell, what are you doing?" i suddenly grabbed her by her shoulders and shook her. then i smacked the back of her head against the wall. to my surprise, it made a very wet cracking noise and she slumped in my hands. i let her go and she slid downwards, leaving a smear of brains on the wall behind her. i'd killed her. weirdly satisfied i shoved the rest of the birthday candles i'd been holding in my hand into her gaping mouth. then i walked out and back to the table.
"what happened?" asked jeff goldblum, "did you beat her up?"
i nodded, the shock setting in. "yeah. and...uh....i think i actually killed her."
he choked on his beverage. "you...what? you killed her?"
i nodded again, taking a sip from my own drink. "not on purpose. i banged her head against the wall and her skull just cracked open. i didn't mean to."
at this point several of the other naked patrons were listening to our conversation. one of them said, "well, good for you, honey...she was a total fucking bitch."
other people started to clap a little. her friend stood up and said, "hey, look, i'm sorry about my friend, she had too much to drink. her behaviour was inexcusable. i don't blame you all for hating her. i just went along with what she said because she was such a bully."
i looked a jeff. he was very amused by everything. he said, "well, we need to do something with her body." the bartender said, "we can keep it in the walk-in cooler for now?" he and jeff walked into the women's room and came out a moment later dragging the corpse behind them. it left a trail of brains and blood behind it. jeff came and sat down with me again, put his big hand over mine. i was shaking and in shock. jeff said, quietly and leaning in over the table, "you know, christa, i think too many people know about this now. we're going to have to do something about that."
"wh...what do you mean?"
"kill them too. kill them all."
"seriously?"
he nodded.
he stood up and made a small speech about how we need to actually move the body down into the basement of the hotel. and since we all agreed that the world was better off without that type of female in it, we were all partly responsible for her death, and therefore partly responsible for hiding the evidence and protecting me from the authorities. everyone agreed, and put on their clothes, and the trek down to the underbelly of the hotel, with the dead woman's body on a make-shift gurney (kitchen trolley, covered with a table cloth).
when we got to the basment, jeff opened up a pair of double doors and lead us all into a huge storage area. it was filled with junk and clutter and old furniture and shelves covered in useless stuff. before i knew what was happening, he'd grabbed a small woodcutter's hatchet from one of the shelves, turned on the bartender, and began hacking him apart. "come on, christa! now! do it now!" people realized what was going on and a woman near me tried to run away. in desperation i grabbled a pair of rusty scissors and went at her back with them. it was hard to stab with them, especially as they became slippery with blood. people had made it back to the double doors but somehow jeff had locked them. it didn't take long. we cut everyone down. it was a gore-fest. both of us were drenched in blood. the only other people left standing were a pair of teenagers, one girl and one boy, and jeff allowed them to live because when they'd realized what was happening they gleefully began to help us.
i sat down hard on the cement floor and started to cry. jeff came over and said, "look, i know it's hard your first time."
"i just feel so guilty and sick, i can't believe i did this."
the teen girl smiled lovingly at me and said, "everyone feels that way at first. don't worry, you'll get over it."
the boy said, "yeah, you'll feel better tomorrow. don't worry. i threw up the first time i killed someone but in a couple of days i was totally over it."
jeff helped me stand up. he put his coat around me and helped me step around all the bodies as we walked towards the door. "let's go up to our room. i'll get you into the bath and tuck you into bed. don't worry about a thing. i'll take care of you." i let him lead me away from the nightmare.
suddenly i was in bed with him. the sheets were white, we were clean, the sun was shining in through the sheer curtains. he was brushing my hair back from my forehead. i was talking to him about an interview i'd read where he'd been talking about how important your appearance is in hollywood.
"do you really believe what you said? that people who aren't conventionally attractive can never truly be movie stars?"
he nodded.
"so, me? i could never be one?"
he shook his head.
"well, that's stupid, and mean! and uniformed! look at....look at philip seymour hoffman. he's not attractive in a conventional sense but he's very successful!"
"oh, the rule doesn't apply to men, at all," he laughed.
"so it's sexist, too!"
he nodded. "but don't worry, babycakes. i would never want you to be a movie star, anyway. your beauty is too special for that sort of vulgar career and lifestyle. no. i like to keep your sexiness and gorgeousness to myself. all those skinny bitches are on coke and speed and don't know how to cook, anyway."
and then i climbed on top of him and we had amazing sex.
the end.
i was living in a co-op townhouse situation and was having trouble with one of the other famillies that lived there. a single mom with an impossible number of children (8 or more) of varying ages from infancy up to pre-teen was being very irresponsible and neglectful of them. one day one of the kids knocked on my door and said there was a problem in their house and could i come help? so i walked over and she directed me upstairs. i went into the one of the bedrooms and there, propped up in the corner like a kind of oversized doll, was one of the older girls - 9 or so - dead. the smaller children were crawling all over her lap and combing her hair and putting gold lipstick on her. she looked kind of like an egyptian queen or something.
i became very enraged. no one could tell me how she died. and the mom wasn't home (of course). so i decided i would hunt her down and began walking down towards a shopping centre in the area. as i got nearer, i had to cross a very busy highway situation and there in the middle of the road was a shopping trolley with another one of her kids - this one not more than 2 years old - just sitting in it, abandoned, and crying hysterically. i rushed over and picked him up and pushed the cart across the street. i then stormed all through the strip mall looking for her. i finally found her in a hair salon getting her nails done or something. i shoved the baby into her lap and started yelling at her. "your oldest daughter is dead and your younger children are in danger and you're here getting your make-up done? what the fuck is your problem, lady?" her demeanor was flippant and uncaring and i wanted to smash her face in. instead i pulled out my cellphone and started to dial 911. then i woke up.
dream II
i was in the lounge area of a huge fancy hotel (i think it was called 'the regent'). i was sitting at a table, naked, and seated across from me was naked jeff goldblum (shuttup). i slowly came to the realization that this was some kind of swinging sex club thing happening, and he was my date. it was very exciting! i got up to get myself another drink from the bar because the waitress hadn't been around for a while and jeff said he didn't feel comfortable standing up "right that second" (again, shuttup). when i got to the bar, i was ordering my drink, when i heard a woman behind me say, "look at that disgusting fat cow over there. who let her in? i thought this place screened their participants. the quality of clientele is really going to shit. god, seriously." and her friend said, "yeah, ew. who feels like fucking when you have to look at that beforehand?"
this infuriated me. after i got my drink i turned around to look them in the eyes. they were your typical tight bodied bleach blonde LA aspiring actresses. i stalked (and jiggled) my way over to their table and said, "who are you two to talk, you scrawny bimbos? you WISH you could make your fake tans look as good as i make my fat look. if you were smart you wouldn't try to pick on a woman twice your size, either. you're as dumb as you are talentless."
they threw a few more insults my way as i walked back to the table where jeff was waiting for me. he was furious.
"you're not just going to take that from them, are you?"
"what?"
"well, they're still over there, looking at you and snickering and pointing at you. you should put a stop to it once and for all."
"you really think so?"
he nodded.
i thought it over for a couple of minutes. then i downed my drink in one fell swoop, stood up, and walked back over to their table. only one of them was missing. her compatriot said, "you got a problem, fatty?"
"where's your friend?"
"she went to the powder room. why?"
i ignored her and walked into the ladies room. just as i opened the door, the woman i was after was walking out. "what do you want?" she said. "to kick your ass," i replied. i only meant to rough her up a bit, scare her into shutting up. for some reason i had a handful of those tiny, multicoloured, crumbly wax birthday candles. she was backing away from me, up against a wall, and i threw a couple of candles at her, that hit her in the face. she said, "what the hell, what are you doing?" i suddenly grabbed her by her shoulders and shook her. then i smacked the back of her head against the wall. to my surprise, it made a very wet cracking noise and she slumped in my hands. i let her go and she slid downwards, leaving a smear of brains on the wall behind her. i'd killed her. weirdly satisfied i shoved the rest of the birthday candles i'd been holding in my hand into her gaping mouth. then i walked out and back to the table.
"what happened?" asked jeff goldblum, "did you beat her up?"
i nodded, the shock setting in. "yeah. and...uh....i think i actually killed her."
he choked on his beverage. "you...what? you killed her?"
i nodded again, taking a sip from my own drink. "not on purpose. i banged her head against the wall and her skull just cracked open. i didn't mean to."
at this point several of the other naked patrons were listening to our conversation. one of them said, "well, good for you, honey...she was a total fucking bitch."
other people started to clap a little. her friend stood up and said, "hey, look, i'm sorry about my friend, she had too much to drink. her behaviour was inexcusable. i don't blame you all for hating her. i just went along with what she said because she was such a bully."
i looked a jeff. he was very amused by everything. he said, "well, we need to do something with her body." the bartender said, "we can keep it in the walk-in cooler for now?" he and jeff walked into the women's room and came out a moment later dragging the corpse behind them. it left a trail of brains and blood behind it. jeff came and sat down with me again, put his big hand over mine. i was shaking and in shock. jeff said, quietly and leaning in over the table, "you know, christa, i think too many people know about this now. we're going to have to do something about that."
"wh...what do you mean?"
"kill them too. kill them all."
"seriously?"
he nodded.
he stood up and made a small speech about how we need to actually move the body down into the basement of the hotel. and since we all agreed that the world was better off without that type of female in it, we were all partly responsible for her death, and therefore partly responsible for hiding the evidence and protecting me from the authorities. everyone agreed, and put on their clothes, and the trek down to the underbelly of the hotel, with the dead woman's body on a make-shift gurney (kitchen trolley, covered with a table cloth).
when we got to the basment, jeff opened up a pair of double doors and lead us all into a huge storage area. it was filled with junk and clutter and old furniture and shelves covered in useless stuff. before i knew what was happening, he'd grabbed a small woodcutter's hatchet from one of the shelves, turned on the bartender, and began hacking him apart. "come on, christa! now! do it now!" people realized what was going on and a woman near me tried to run away. in desperation i grabbled a pair of rusty scissors and went at her back with them. it was hard to stab with them, especially as they became slippery with blood. people had made it back to the double doors but somehow jeff had locked them. it didn't take long. we cut everyone down. it was a gore-fest. both of us were drenched in blood. the only other people left standing were a pair of teenagers, one girl and one boy, and jeff allowed them to live because when they'd realized what was happening they gleefully began to help us.
i sat down hard on the cement floor and started to cry. jeff came over and said, "look, i know it's hard your first time."
"i just feel so guilty and sick, i can't believe i did this."
the teen girl smiled lovingly at me and said, "everyone feels that way at first. don't worry, you'll get over it."
the boy said, "yeah, you'll feel better tomorrow. don't worry. i threw up the first time i killed someone but in a couple of days i was totally over it."
jeff helped me stand up. he put his coat around me and helped me step around all the bodies as we walked towards the door. "let's go up to our room. i'll get you into the bath and tuck you into bed. don't worry about a thing. i'll take care of you." i let him lead me away from the nightmare.
suddenly i was in bed with him. the sheets were white, we were clean, the sun was shining in through the sheer curtains. he was brushing my hair back from my forehead. i was talking to him about an interview i'd read where he'd been talking about how important your appearance is in hollywood.
"do you really believe what you said? that people who aren't conventionally attractive can never truly be movie stars?"
he nodded.
"so, me? i could never be one?"
he shook his head.
"well, that's stupid, and mean! and uniformed! look at....look at philip seymour hoffman. he's not attractive in a conventional sense but he's very successful!"
"oh, the rule doesn't apply to men, at all," he laughed.
"so it's sexist, too!"
he nodded. "but don't worry, babycakes. i would never want you to be a movie star, anyway. your beauty is too special for that sort of vulgar career and lifestyle. no. i like to keep your sexiness and gorgeousness to myself. all those skinny bitches are on coke and speed and don't know how to cook, anyway."
and then i climbed on top of him and we had amazing sex.
the end.
2008/09/07
two nights ago i dreamt that misha and the kids and i were in an office building downtown. i'm not sure why we were there or what we were doing, but when we tried to leave, police in SWAT team gear told us we weren't allowed. they were blocking the glass doors with their batons out. i peered over their shoulders and saw that they had put up big sandbag barricades around the centre court of the office building, surrounding a man sitting on a bench. the man was wearing a trenchcoat and a hat with a floppy brim and he had a big suitcase next to him on the bench. i demanded they tell me what was happening and one of the cops said that the man's suitcase was filled with enough high powered explosives to destroy everything within a mile radius of him and they were trying to talk him out of doing it. he told me to take the kids and go hide behind the big counter in the building's foyer with everyone else.
for some reason, though, misha insisted that we leave immediately. he said that it was stupid they weren't evacuating us out the back way. so the kids and i followed him down a dark cement stairway and into a parkade under the building. suddenly, though, the suicide bomber was behind us and started chasing us through the darkness. i was trying to urge the kids on but astrid fell behind. i stopped and turned and saw the man grab her, pick her up, and throw her as hard as he could against a wall. she fell and i screamed and ran back towards her. the man didn't try to stop me. astrid was laying on the pavement, totally still with a blanched face and closed eyes and her legs at weird angles and i knew her back was broken. i woke up in horror.
for some reason, though, misha insisted that we leave immediately. he said that it was stupid they weren't evacuating us out the back way. so the kids and i followed him down a dark cement stairway and into a parkade under the building. suddenly, though, the suicide bomber was behind us and started chasing us through the darkness. i was trying to urge the kids on but astrid fell behind. i stopped and turned and saw the man grab her, pick her up, and throw her as hard as he could against a wall. she fell and i screamed and ran back towards her. the man didn't try to stop me. astrid was laying on the pavement, totally still with a blanched face and closed eyes and her legs at weird angles and i knew her back was broken. i woke up in horror.
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