Like many people, I really found myself when I went away to college, and a great deal of that had to do with the people surrounding me. I've had some wonderful friends in my life, and some very long friendships, but there was never a time that I felt so truly understood and accepted as my college years.
Lately, though, I've been feeling a little out of touch. I don't talk to many of my school chums all that often, and when I do, it's not the same. It's just the way life is. People go in all different directions; priorities change. And that's a good thing; I don't want to be the same person I was in college, and I don't want the same things from my friends as I did then, nor do I offer the same things to my friends. Not to mention how hard it is to maintain relationships from a whole different time and place. So for the past few years, I've kind of retreated from those old friendships, wondering if it was really possible to be both myself, as I am now, and the friend my friends remember.
Today, I realized it is.
During my junior year of college, my roommate Miranda and I befriended one of our fellow student theatre people named Stephen. He and Miranda co-directed a show together, so consequently, he was always at our apartment. We began hanging out together a lot, and working on a couple of shows together (including one in which I played Stephen's mistress) we became good pals. He was even my "big brother" when I joined the theatre honors fraternity.
I hadn't seen Stephen since 1999 or talked to him since 2002, but lately, I'd been thinking about him often. Oddly enough, it started with one word -- Dolomites. I don't remember where I heard it, but I do remember thinking of Stephen instantly. In that play in which I played his mistress, our characters had a fight, and it ended with his character trying to appease mine by reminding her of their trip to the Dolomites, and my character shouting, "the Dolomites! The Dolomites! That's all you ever talk to me about!"
Funny the things you remember.
Anyway, it got me thinking about Stephen. I wondered what ever happened to him, where he was, what he was up to. So I took advantage of today's instant access culture and Googled him. I didn't find much, but I did find a press release from four years ago listing his name and phone number. Taking a chance that the number was still current, I called him last week. As soon as I heard his voice mail kick in, I knew I had the right number. I left a somewhat bumbling message, trying to mix in casual hey, how are you stuff with here are some details about me in case you don't remember who I am, since, let's face it, we haven't seen each other in nine years stuff.
Today, he called me back, and it was wonderful to hear from him. He told me all about what he's been up to, and I updated him on my life. And the best part was that even though our lives have both changed a great deal, and none of the things that made us friends in the first place are really factors anymore, we weren't at a loss for things to talk about.
So perhaps it is possible to reconnect with people, even far-removed from the time and circumstances that made you friends in the first place. Everyone changes, but that doesn't mean the past should be forgotten. And the best way to realize that is to get back in touch with an old friend.
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Most Likely To Succeed
My little girl is a big graduate!
Last night, Stella received her puppy school diploma and departed her Petsmart training with new knowledge, self-esteem and a big yellow tennis ball.
As part of the graduation festivities, each dog got a moment in the sun, either to show what they'd learned in class or show off something they'd learned somewhere else. Stella chose to show off her superb walking-next-to-daddy skills, and did a few laps around the rink with my husband, off-leash. I was very proud. Eight weeks ago when the class began, she hated to walk with us; she would plant her feet and refuse to move. But after we learned that a few well-timed treats would keep her walking where we wanted her, she was leash walking like a champ and soon began to walk just as well off-leash.
I'm proud to say she received an enthusiastic round of applause.
I couldn't be happier about Stella's progress. She's learned a lot in these eight weeks -- and so have my husband and I. We've learned how to read her, and how to teach her things, when to reward her and when and how to correct her. And it's worked! She's a better listener, and she knows how to ask nicely for things, too. It's amazing how these small changes in behavior can make such big differences.
It's been really cool to watch her progress, and I'm looking forward to getting her into the intermediate level of her training. My sweet baby puppy is becoming a wonderful big girl!
Last night, Stella received her puppy school diploma and departed her Petsmart training with new knowledge, self-esteem and a big yellow tennis ball.
As part of the graduation festivities, each dog got a moment in the sun, either to show what they'd learned in class or show off something they'd learned somewhere else. Stella chose to show off her superb walking-next-to-daddy skills, and did a few laps around the rink with my husband, off-leash. I was very proud. Eight weeks ago when the class began, she hated to walk with us; she would plant her feet and refuse to move. But after we learned that a few well-timed treats would keep her walking where we wanted her, she was leash walking like a champ and soon began to walk just as well off-leash.
I'm proud to say she received an enthusiastic round of applause.
I couldn't be happier about Stella's progress. She's learned a lot in these eight weeks -- and so have my husband and I. We've learned how to read her, and how to teach her things, when to reward her and when and how to correct her. And it's worked! She's a better listener, and she knows how to ask nicely for things, too. It's amazing how these small changes in behavior can make such big differences.
It's been really cool to watch her progress, and I'm looking forward to getting her into the intermediate level of her training. My sweet baby puppy is becoming a wonderful big girl!
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
The Girl Who Ate Michigan...Literally
A year ago in October, I went to Michigan to visit my friend Marla and did almost nothing but eat. I chronicled my adventure in this entry.
Well, a couple of weeks ago, I ate Michigan again. Except, it wasn't really Michigan; it was just a piece of chicken shaped like Michigan. Except Michigan is backwards, so really, it just kind of looks like a mitten or a boxing glove. Still, I thought it was cool enough to take a picture of it. Just not cool enough to write about until two weeks later when I found the picture.
Well, a couple of weeks ago, I ate Michigan again. Except, it wasn't really Michigan; it was just a piece of chicken shaped like Michigan. Except Michigan is backwards, so really, it just kind of looks like a mitten or a boxing glove. Still, I thought it was cool enough to take a picture of it. Just not cool enough to write about until two weeks later when I found the picture.
More On Oscar
I got to thinking about how I've always said I don't care for award-winning movies (not because they're award-winning, that's just usually how it turns out), and I got to thinking, I must have seen at least a few Best Picture winners that I liked. So I looked up a complete list of the winners, and here's my rundown of what I thought of the ones I've seen.
Gone With The Wind (1939): Loved it. Loved it even more the second and third times.
Casablanca (1943): I thought it was overrated. Not bad, but not what I was expecting. But I think I might have liked it better had I lived in that time period and had some frame of reference of what was happening.
Am American In Paris (1951): Hated it. I like dancing, but this was like 15 minutes of movie and an hour and a half of dancing. I fast-forwarded through most of it.
Ben-Hur (1959): I don't remember being significantly impressed or disappointed with this one, but since I watched it in Mr. Giles' social studies class in 10th grade, I'm not surprised.
The Sound of Music (1965): Loved it, still love it.
Oliver! (1968): Liked it, but I liked all musicals back when I saw that. I did fall asleep during it though.
Terms of Endearment (1983): Liked it a lot, and used to be able to play the theme song on the piano. Still watch it when I see it on TV.
Amadeus (1984): Seeing as I saw this movie in 1984 (or whenever it came out on VHS), I don't really know if I formed an opinion. I remember pretty costumes though.
Forrest Gump (1994): Despite the fact that the tag lines got pretty old pretty fast, I really liked this one and still enjoy watching it every once in awhile.
Titanic (1997): Loved it, and I'll admit that I still cry at the end if I watch it alone.
Shakespeare In Love (1998): This was the first movie I ever saw in the theatre by myself. I thought it was great, and the dialogue was very witty, much like Shakespeare's writings, and I appreciate (almost require) witty dialogue in movies.
A Beautiful Mind (2001): I liked this one, but I wasn't as wowed as some people. But I saw it kinda late in the game and probably expected too much.
Chicago (2002): Somewhat entertaining but overrated. Also, I don't like Renee Zellweger at all, so that couldn't have helped. But I did like that Chicago won the year I moved to Chicago.
Crash (2005): Liked it a lot, although Munich was also nominated that year, and I liked that one better.
The Departed (2006): Liked it a lot. Satisfying plot twists and interesting characters, plus humor and that witty dialogue I love.
Gone With The Wind (1939): Loved it. Loved it even more the second and third times.
Casablanca (1943): I thought it was overrated. Not bad, but not what I was expecting. But I think I might have liked it better had I lived in that time period and had some frame of reference of what was happening.
Am American In Paris (1951): Hated it. I like dancing, but this was like 15 minutes of movie and an hour and a half of dancing. I fast-forwarded through most of it.
Ben-Hur (1959): I don't remember being significantly impressed or disappointed with this one, but since I watched it in Mr. Giles' social studies class in 10th grade, I'm not surprised.
The Sound of Music (1965): Loved it, still love it.
Oliver! (1968): Liked it, but I liked all musicals back when I saw that. I did fall asleep during it though.
Terms of Endearment (1983): Liked it a lot, and used to be able to play the theme song on the piano. Still watch it when I see it on TV.
Amadeus (1984): Seeing as I saw this movie in 1984 (or whenever it came out on VHS), I don't really know if I formed an opinion. I remember pretty costumes though.
Forrest Gump (1994): Despite the fact that the tag lines got pretty old pretty fast, I really liked this one and still enjoy watching it every once in awhile.
Titanic (1997): Loved it, and I'll admit that I still cry at the end if I watch it alone.
Shakespeare In Love (1998): This was the first movie I ever saw in the theatre by myself. I thought it was great, and the dialogue was very witty, much like Shakespeare's writings, and I appreciate (almost require) witty dialogue in movies.
A Beautiful Mind (2001): I liked this one, but I wasn't as wowed as some people. But I saw it kinda late in the game and probably expected too much.
Chicago (2002): Somewhat entertaining but overrated. Also, I don't like Renee Zellweger at all, so that couldn't have helped. But I did like that Chicago won the year I moved to Chicago.
Crash (2005): Liked it a lot, although Munich was also nominated that year, and I liked that one better.
The Departed (2006): Liked it a lot. Satisfying plot twists and interesting characters, plus humor and that witty dialogue I love.
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Oscar Schmoscar
I'm not much of an awards show fan, and Big Daddy Oscar is at the top of my list of awards I don't care about.
It's nothing personal. I just get bored with the speeches, and most of the movies that are nominated are ones I haven't seen. This year's nominees were announced today, and as it turns out, I've only seen one of the potential Best Pictures. If the rest are anything like it, I don't think I want to see them.
On Saturday, my husband I went to a matinee of Atonement. Much touted by critics and radio commercials, the movie has been put forth as this decade's Titanic, an epic love story destined to amaze viewers with its brilliance. I'm a sucker for love stories, especially ones that take place in time periods with great clothes, but even I couldn't muster any excitement for this movie.
The story is a bit complicated to condense into one paragraph, but the crux is that a young girl (Saoirse Ronan) misinterprets something she sees, and that misinterpretation causes her to send an innocent man (James McAvoy) to prison, and ultimately, into the horrors of World War II. Incidentally, he's also the great love of her older sister (Keira Knightley), so she not only ruins his life, she ruins her sister's, causing a lifelong guilt trip and much grief and sadness all around.
The movie was adapted from a book, and it's pretty obvious there were some key things the moviemakers skipped over. The sisters have exactly two conversations in the movie -- one at the very beginning and one later in the younger sister's imagination. It's hard to believe she feels that awful about ruining the life of a sister she never speaks to.
Furthermore, I never got to see any of the "white-hot chemistry" between Keira Knightley and James McAvoy that the radio ads mentioned, mostly because their "epic love" lasted all of five minutes before they were torn apart forever. They fought in the morning, he wrote her a dirty letter in the afternoon, and by evening, they were in flagrante in the library. Is that what the kids are calling epic love these days? Whatever happened to witty conversation? I hate to sound cold-hearted, but I didn't really care whether those two ever got together again. Especially because when they did, they barely knew what to say; they seemed like strangers, not star-crossed lovers whose passion had been building for years.
It just felt forced. Hearing Keira Knightley whisper/whimper/cry "come back to me" got really old, really fast, and even the big moment of revelation where the younger sister figures out what she really saw (which I'm not even certain I believe she saw -- the way the movie goes, it almost seems as if the guilt she feels has made her simply make up a new version of events) fell flat. And the terrible bastard we're supposed to hate is someone we never really liked in the first place.
I could go on, but I won't. I will say that the movie was very nice to look at, and it made me want to read the book, because I think the story is intriguing and was simply told badly. I also feel compelled to say that I like Keira Knightley, but I wish she didn't always walk with her arms flapping behind her. It's a bit distracting.
It's nothing personal. I just get bored with the speeches, and most of the movies that are nominated are ones I haven't seen. This year's nominees were announced today, and as it turns out, I've only seen one of the potential Best Pictures. If the rest are anything like it, I don't think I want to see them.
On Saturday, my husband I went to a matinee of Atonement. Much touted by critics and radio commercials, the movie has been put forth as this decade's Titanic, an epic love story destined to amaze viewers with its brilliance. I'm a sucker for love stories, especially ones that take place in time periods with great clothes, but even I couldn't muster any excitement for this movie.
The story is a bit complicated to condense into one paragraph, but the crux is that a young girl (Saoirse Ronan) misinterprets something she sees, and that misinterpretation causes her to send an innocent man (James McAvoy) to prison, and ultimately, into the horrors of World War II. Incidentally, he's also the great love of her older sister (Keira Knightley), so she not only ruins his life, she ruins her sister's, causing a lifelong guilt trip and much grief and sadness all around.
The movie was adapted from a book, and it's pretty obvious there were some key things the moviemakers skipped over. The sisters have exactly two conversations in the movie -- one at the very beginning and one later in the younger sister's imagination. It's hard to believe she feels that awful about ruining the life of a sister she never speaks to.
Furthermore, I never got to see any of the "white-hot chemistry" between Keira Knightley and James McAvoy that the radio ads mentioned, mostly because their "epic love" lasted all of five minutes before they were torn apart forever. They fought in the morning, he wrote her a dirty letter in the afternoon, and by evening, they were in flagrante in the library. Is that what the kids are calling epic love these days? Whatever happened to witty conversation? I hate to sound cold-hearted, but I didn't really care whether those two ever got together again. Especially because when they did, they barely knew what to say; they seemed like strangers, not star-crossed lovers whose passion had been building for years.
It just felt forced. Hearing Keira Knightley whisper/whimper/cry "come back to me" got really old, really fast, and even the big moment of revelation where the younger sister figures out what she really saw (which I'm not even certain I believe she saw -- the way the movie goes, it almost seems as if the guilt she feels has made her simply make up a new version of events) fell flat. And the terrible bastard we're supposed to hate is someone we never really liked in the first place.
I could go on, but I won't. I will say that the movie was very nice to look at, and it made me want to read the book, because I think the story is intriguing and was simply told badly. I also feel compelled to say that I like Keira Knightley, but I wish she didn't always walk with her arms flapping behind her. It's a bit distracting.
Monday, January 21, 2008
Pop Goes My Heart
Yesterday, it sub-zero outside, and I had cut a four-inch-long gash into my leg while shaving (which bled all day long), so I wasn't really in the mood to go much of anywhere. So I did what I've often done on cold weekend days lately; I watched TV and crocheted.
There was nothing good on, and I had no new Netflix movies to watch, so I ended up spending an hour or so with VH1's Top 100 Songs of the 1980s while I finished a scarf I'd been working on. It's your typical VH1 special, where famous (and marginally famous) people share their memories and make jokes about the songs, plus they throw in a "where are they now" for those folks who haven't been in the limelight lately.
There were a couple of sad faces. They kept showing the guy from A Flock of Seagulls talk about how sick he is of people asking him to play "I Ran," and the singer from Dexy's Midnight Runners voiced his disappointment that "Come On Eileen" is the only song people remember of theirs. And I'm sure it is very frustrating to people who worked hard for years. But then, there were some folks who had great songs and then moved on to other things and are just tickled that someone remembers something they did 20-some years ago.
I have no aspirations to become a professional musician. Even if I had the talent and desire, I don't think I'd survive the lifestyle. But watching that special yesterday got me to thinking, I might like to have a one-hit wonder. I'd have enough fame to make me some money and get me into cool parties for awhile, but before I got a chance to let the fame go to my head or start using drugs, I would quietly fade back into the background, emerging only every once in awhile to commentate on VH1 specials. And because it was never my dream to make a career out of music, I wouldn't feel bad about the "has been" label.
I'm not really sure how one goes about securing one's place on the one-hit wonder charts, but I think if I send a few query letters to some record companies, I might generate some interest. If anyone wants to help lick the envelopes, let me know.
There was nothing good on, and I had no new Netflix movies to watch, so I ended up spending an hour or so with VH1's Top 100 Songs of the 1980s while I finished a scarf I'd been working on. It's your typical VH1 special, where famous (and marginally famous) people share their memories and make jokes about the songs, plus they throw in a "where are they now" for those folks who haven't been in the limelight lately.
There were a couple of sad faces. They kept showing the guy from A Flock of Seagulls talk about how sick he is of people asking him to play "I Ran," and the singer from Dexy's Midnight Runners voiced his disappointment that "Come On Eileen" is the only song people remember of theirs. And I'm sure it is very frustrating to people who worked hard for years. But then, there were some folks who had great songs and then moved on to other things and are just tickled that someone remembers something they did 20-some years ago.
I have no aspirations to become a professional musician. Even if I had the talent and desire, I don't think I'd survive the lifestyle. But watching that special yesterday got me to thinking, I might like to have a one-hit wonder. I'd have enough fame to make me some money and get me into cool parties for awhile, but before I got a chance to let the fame go to my head or start using drugs, I would quietly fade back into the background, emerging only every once in awhile to commentate on VH1 specials. And because it was never my dream to make a career out of music, I wouldn't feel bad about the "has been" label.
I'm not really sure how one goes about securing one's place on the one-hit wonder charts, but I think if I send a few query letters to some record companies, I might generate some interest. If anyone wants to help lick the envelopes, let me know.
Saturday, January 19, 2008
Bless Us, Oh King...
The first time it happened was in 1999. I was on my way to an out-of-town concert with my friend Darcey, and we stopped to eat at a Burger King along the way.
Somewhere in the middle of our meal, Darcey started laughing. Looking across the restaurant, I saw a table of people praying over their paper-wrapped sandwiches.
I couldn't help laughing too. My family never said a blessing before any meal, so maybe I just didn't get it, but I thought it was a little weird to pray over a greasy value meal. Darcey agreed.
"It's fine if you want to pray at home," she said, "but I don't think God cares if you bless your Whopper."
It was one of those moments in which a private joke was born; "bless your Whopper" became one of our favorite funny phrases to say to each other.
It happened again in 2002, again at a Burger King. I was eating lunch with a friend when a group of kids from the Catholic high school across the street came in. They bought their food, sat down, and prayed. I burst into giggles and tried to explain to my baffled lunch date about Darcey and "bless your Whopper." He didn't get it.
I thought it strange that I would witness the same phenomenon twice at Burger King. I've never seen anyone pray before a meal at any other restaurant, fast food or otherwise. What is it about Burger King that brings out people's faith?
I thought maybe it was just a fluke, but now I'm not so sure. Because today, it happened again. My husband and I were grabbing a quick lunch, and in came a group of five people. They bought food, sat down at a table and said a blessing before eating. I never knew Burger King was such a spiritual place. But it must be. I've seen this three different times in three different Burger Kings.
I'm still not sure what to make of it. But if I ever see the guy behind the counter turn fountain Coke into wine, I guess I'll have no choice but to bless my Whopper too.
Somewhere in the middle of our meal, Darcey started laughing. Looking across the restaurant, I saw a table of people praying over their paper-wrapped sandwiches.
I couldn't help laughing too. My family never said a blessing before any meal, so maybe I just didn't get it, but I thought it was a little weird to pray over a greasy value meal. Darcey agreed.
"It's fine if you want to pray at home," she said, "but I don't think God cares if you bless your Whopper."
It was one of those moments in which a private joke was born; "bless your Whopper" became one of our favorite funny phrases to say to each other.
It happened again in 2002, again at a Burger King. I was eating lunch with a friend when a group of kids from the Catholic high school across the street came in. They bought their food, sat down, and prayed. I burst into giggles and tried to explain to my baffled lunch date about Darcey and "bless your Whopper." He didn't get it.
I thought it strange that I would witness the same phenomenon twice at Burger King. I've never seen anyone pray before a meal at any other restaurant, fast food or otherwise. What is it about Burger King that brings out people's faith?
I thought maybe it was just a fluke, but now I'm not so sure. Because today, it happened again. My husband and I were grabbing a quick lunch, and in came a group of five people. They bought food, sat down at a table and said a blessing before eating. I never knew Burger King was such a spiritual place. But it must be. I've seen this three different times in three different Burger Kings.
I'm still not sure what to make of it. But if I ever see the guy behind the counter turn fountain Coke into wine, I guess I'll have no choice but to bless my Whopper too.
Monday, January 14, 2008
You Know Your Husband Truly Loves You When...
...he tucks your puppy in on a night when you're not home and sings to her the song you always sing to her at night, and you didn't even ask him to sing it.
Friday, January 11, 2008
Stella's First Slumber Party
Today is a very big day for my little dog.But it's a bigger day for me.
This morning, I took Stella to the vet's office and dropped her off; she's getting spayed today. She'll spend tonight at the vet, and tomorrow after 10 a.m., I'll be able to bring her home.
I'm a little anxious about the surgery, but I'm more anxious about the fact that I won't see my peanut girl again until tomorrow. She hasn't spent a night away from my husband and me since we got her, and she's so attached to us; I worry that she'll be terribly lonely tonight with no one to cuddle her and no reminders of home.
But I know this is a good exercise for both of us. She needs to learn to become less dependent, and I need to cut the apron strings. My husband and I have a long list of places we'd like to travel, and we can't take her everywhere. Maybe spending a night away from home will help Stella when the time comes for us to board her.
I think she'll be treated well at the vet's office. She's so little and cute that everyone there fawns over her; in fact, the girl behind the desk when I went in this morning told me 10 times how cute Stel is and even asked to hold her. I know my puppy will get lots of love today. But I'm sure she'll still feel lonely when it's lights out.
And I'm sure I'll still feel lonely when I get home and there's no puppy there to greet me.
Monday, January 07, 2008
The Girl Scouts: Empowering Women, 25 Cookies At A Time
A few months ago, I ordered Girl Scout cookies from a coworker's daughter. Much to my delight, they arrived today.
Another coworker bemoaned the cookies' arrival, saying it would ruin her New Year's diet resolution. I understand, in a way, but I think she missed the bigger picture.
We always hear "you are what you eat." Of course, that means if you eat healthy foods, you will be healthy, and if you eat crappy fatty foods, you will be a massive tub of goo. But I prefer to take the statement more literally when it comes to Girl Scout cookies.
I myself ordered the ever-popular Thin Mints and fudge-coated shortbread cookies called Thanks-A-Lot (so named because each cookie is imprinted with "thank you" in one of several languages). I am what I eat. Ergo, eating the cookies I ordered will make me thin and thankful -- sounds good to me!
The Girl Scouts organization is all about empowering girls and giving them positive, life-shaping experiences. So why not keep the streak going and use the cookies to empower grown women? That's what I say.
So, ladies, don't worry about that preposterous "serving size" printed on the side of the box. Hunker down with a box of cookies and munch till your heart's content!
On another note, I'd also like to take this opportunity to applaud the Girl Scouts (or, more specifically, ABC Bakers/Interbake Foods LLC) for making my favorite cookie treats dairy-free. Female empowerment should never include tummy trouble.
Another coworker bemoaned the cookies' arrival, saying it would ruin her New Year's diet resolution. I understand, in a way, but I think she missed the bigger picture.
We always hear "you are what you eat." Of course, that means if you eat healthy foods, you will be healthy, and if you eat crappy fatty foods, you will be a massive tub of goo. But I prefer to take the statement more literally when it comes to Girl Scout cookies.
I myself ordered the ever-popular Thin Mints and fudge-coated shortbread cookies called Thanks-A-Lot (so named because each cookie is imprinted with "thank you" in one of several languages). I am what I eat. Ergo, eating the cookies I ordered will make me thin and thankful -- sounds good to me!
The Girl Scouts organization is all about empowering girls and giving them positive, life-shaping experiences. So why not keep the streak going and use the cookies to empower grown women? That's what I say.
So, ladies, don't worry about that preposterous "serving size" printed on the side of the box. Hunker down with a box of cookies and munch till your heart's content!
On another note, I'd also like to take this opportunity to applaud the Girl Scouts (or, more specifically, ABC Bakers/Interbake Foods LLC) for making my favorite cookie treats dairy-free. Female empowerment should never include tummy trouble.
Friday, January 04, 2008
Let Me Sleep On It
Since my parents would not admit to kidnapping me from a king and queen somewhere, I finally relented and bought a new mattress. It arrives tomorrow.
Of course, now that I know I'll have a new mattress in a few days, I am even more bothered by the old one. Last night, I slept fitfully, waking up every hour and, when I finally fell back asleep, dreaming of the strangest things....
First, I dreamed that my husband and I attended play auditions together. The play was a musical children's show about a princess or something (not sure if there was a pea involved). He was cast as one of the main character's sisters (yes, you read that right), and before I went up to perform my audition piece, I realized that I hadn't learned the dance. I told the director to forget it, that I didn't want to audition after all because I had never been taught the dance, and he told me don't worry, come back in a few months for the next show's auditions. I was upset, because I really wanted a chance to be in the show, but I also wanted the director to fight for me a little.
My next dream had to do with my husband's brother's children. I was at his house, babysitting I think. Behind their house was a gigantic swimming pool that actually belonged to their neighbor, but anyone was welcome to use it. It was unlike any other pool I've ever seen, with treasure chests and things under the water, and hidden rooms (even a bathroom). That was a pretty cool dream, but it would have been cooler if I could have figured out how the bathroom was supposed to work.
My husband's other brother appeared in the last dream. Somewhere, he had obtained a taser (although it was much bigger than an actual taser) and was having fun tasering everyone at a family get-together. In fact, one of my sisters-in-law bragged that she could withstand the taser for 10 minutes. (Note: If, for some reason, someone brought a taser to one of my husband's family's get-togethers, I think that is probably how things would go down). My brother-in-law kept trying to tase me, and I kept telling him not to. He wouldn't let up, so eventually, I got so mad that I slapped him across the face. I still kind of feel bad about that, actually, but I do hit like a girl, so I'm pretty sure he wasn't hurt.
Maybe I ought to get a hotel room tonight, just so I don't have to sleep on that mattress again.
Of course, now that I know I'll have a new mattress in a few days, I am even more bothered by the old one. Last night, I slept fitfully, waking up every hour and, when I finally fell back asleep, dreaming of the strangest things....
First, I dreamed that my husband and I attended play auditions together. The play was a musical children's show about a princess or something (not sure if there was a pea involved). He was cast as one of the main character's sisters (yes, you read that right), and before I went up to perform my audition piece, I realized that I hadn't learned the dance. I told the director to forget it, that I didn't want to audition after all because I had never been taught the dance, and he told me don't worry, come back in a few months for the next show's auditions. I was upset, because I really wanted a chance to be in the show, but I also wanted the director to fight for me a little.
My next dream had to do with my husband's brother's children. I was at his house, babysitting I think. Behind their house was a gigantic swimming pool that actually belonged to their neighbor, but anyone was welcome to use it. It was unlike any other pool I've ever seen, with treasure chests and things under the water, and hidden rooms (even a bathroom). That was a pretty cool dream, but it would have been cooler if I could have figured out how the bathroom was supposed to work.
My husband's other brother appeared in the last dream. Somewhere, he had obtained a taser (although it was much bigger than an actual taser) and was having fun tasering everyone at a family get-together. In fact, one of my sisters-in-law bragged that she could withstand the taser for 10 minutes. (Note: If, for some reason, someone brought a taser to one of my husband's family's get-togethers, I think that is probably how things would go down). My brother-in-law kept trying to tase me, and I kept telling him not to. He wouldn't let up, so eventually, I got so mad that I slapped him across the face. I still kind of feel bad about that, actually, but I do hit like a girl, so I'm pretty sure he wasn't hurt.
Maybe I ought to get a hotel room tonight, just so I don't have to sleep on that mattress again.
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