Now that the three-day weekend is at a close, I shall serve up some pipin’ hot random thoughts. Perhaps in list form, perhaps more stream-of-(un)consciousness, who can say? Let’s begin, shall we?
Lists and whatnot:
1. It is possible to run out of gas in a Prius despite getting eleventy million miles to the gallon. Just sayin.
2. Sounds that make my skin crawl: bagpipes and fireworks – together. Neighbors should be glad I am not the gun-totin type.
3. A clean house is nice. I predict it stays that way until 0700 tomorrow and that’s it until family comes to visit again.
Streams and whatnot:
I don’t think I finished my “100 things about me” series. Might have to do it just to show I can actually finish one damn thing I start.
And I am thinking about a new blog design. It will be two years since the last one and while there are elements I like, there’s much I have outgrown and need something fresh. Unfortunately, the woman who designed it un-Facebooked me after we tangled on some political matters. I’m pretty sure she’d say no to any blog revision requests but I could be wrong. And mayhaps it’s time for a completely new designing perspective. Anyone know of any really good Word Press blog designers?
I still dislike being a host(ess). Think I should just move into a small apartment so I can say “Oh, so sorry you can’t come visit but my house is just too small.” I was able to handle Charlie’s visit last Sunday perfectly because it was just one person. And I wasn’t exhausted when he left. Yesterday was that multiplied by thirteen plus a two year old. Hence, my being in bed at 9:30 last night dreaming of wandering through parking lots looking for my mother on the second floor and getting in an elevator with a sign posted as such: “If the elevator starts falling at a rapid pace, hold on tight and think positive thoughts.” Yeah, positive thoughts will make that high speed crash landing much easier, I’m thinking.
How come I am not only surrounded by people having babies (and calling them the names I would have named mine (Maddie and Sophia)) but they are appearing in my dreams as well? One dream involved my getting home late from work (after taking two buses to get there) and finding out they were going to take my baby to orphan court. I had to pay them $200 to not do that. Another baby dream recently involved having to change a diaper that was, shall we say, filled to the brim and beyond with baby poo. What’s with the dreams, people?? Can’t I have good ones? How about one involving a hot Italian guy and a hotel room? That’s gotta be more fun than crashing elevators, orphaned babies and poo-filled diapers! I think I’ll submit my request to my Dream Masters and see what they come up with. Wish me luck.
I had weird dreams, too.
But I had what I’d characterize as “bad” dreams for a bunch of years after I divorced and moved to D.C. In addition to the failing health of my parents, and the divorce, those were the years when I was opening to spirit — I had some profoundly disturbing interactions for years — all of that is now over. I am
much more solidly in place, and my dreams no longer feel as thought they’re telling me, “You’re one unhappy chick!”
What I’ve learned, since then, is that I invited the evil into my life. Look, maybe it was necessary, or maybe not, I don’t know. It was as it was.
I feel like there’s a lot of angst and disturbance in you. I hope that doesn’t make you defensive….I think you are stirring the waters and bringing up
mud, mud, mud. This is GOOD. But, at the same time, I hope you can find ways to, from time to time, let the mud settle and the water run clear.
I really urge you to find ways, from time to time, to let all the obligations and requirements GO. Like, no more entertaining for a very, very long time!
I’m surprised your felines don’t serve as more potent guest repellent! That’s the card I play most often — “I’d loooooove to have you all over, but you have allergies!” (When, of course, what I really mean is, “but I’d have to do serious housework and I don’t feel like it.”)
For what it’s worth, I had weird dreams all weekend, too. Maybe it’s something astrological or atmospheric. I ended up stranded — in the snow! — because my wallet fell out of my purse somewhere along the line and I lost my Amtrak ticket. Everyone I met was very nice, but like Dorothy stranded in Oz, I just wanted to go home.
Your last paragraph broke my heart. I, too, was plagued by Baby Lust. (Amanda Grace was my baby name of choice). But once I realized mine were tied to hormones, it helped. Just before the pink pills made way for the white pills in the 36-pack, I could count on being plagued with Baby Lust. Understanding my body helped me realize that it would soon pass, and to anticipate it a bit when it hit me next month. If you can find a pattern like that, it might help you deal a bit more. Because Lisa, I know, it’s a painful, tearful time, filled with yearning, and it’s NO FUN AT ALL!