Dreamy Wednesdays...on Thursday

A Dream within a dream

Take this kiss upon the brow!

And, in parting from you now,

Thus much let me avow--

You are not wrong, who deem

That my days have been a dream;

Yet if hope has flown away

In a night, or in a day,

In a vision, or in none,

Is it therefore the less gone?

All that we see or seem

Is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar

Of a surf-tormented shore,

And I hold within my hand

Grains of the golden sand--

How few! yet how they creep

Through my fingers to the deep,

While I weep--while I weep!

O God! can I not grasp

Them with a tighter clasp?

O God! can I not save

One from the pitiless wave?

Is all that we see or seem

But a dream within a dream?

- Edgar Allan Poe

I believe that re-kindling my dreams from my dream journal has kicked my today dreams up a notch. I had two strange dreams last night, though neither are this one.

This is one of the most odd, detailed dreams I have ever had. It is, in fact, a dream inside a dream:

I dreamt that I was waking up in a bed (my parents bed) with some guy (a scruffy face, a bald head, then hair, the a bald head again). Laying there in bed, I was holding him and kissing him and he turned over to face me and we started kissing again, but we heard people coming into the room so we stopped.

My brother walked through the room and into the bathroom and shut the door. Then a friend but I don't know who was standing there talking to me and to the guy...he got out of bed, but I proceeded to tell my friend about a dream I had:

"I was at work but I was really tired and I couldn't keep my eyes open. So, instead of sitting down to lunch, I was going to go for a walk. Then, I was on the Nazareth Campus, but it didn't look anything like it and I couldn't get back to the dorm. There was a yellow and green smooshy track around the tennis courts that I remember stepping on and wanting to run on. But, I was trying to get back to O'Connor (dorm at Nazareth). I cut through Medaille (another dorm at Nazareth), but I then went to Smyth hall even though it wasn't the way. Then I went into a big main building (I turn to guy during this recount of the dream 'cause he knows the campus. He smiles and nods his head, his arms crossed in front of him). The main building was big and had a 'capital' feel to it. I was wandering around there when I woke up"

Guy looks at me with enticement, adoration, and smiles. I look toward the bathroom where my brother is and wonder what he is still doing in there.

Obvious friend asks when we are going to get going to the zoo. I lean off the bed head first and hang there talking to her about time. My tank top falls, exposing my stomach. Guy reaches in passing and pulls it back down.

Obvious friend leaves. Guy gets back on the bed and starts holding me again. I kiss his bald head several times and look him in the eye. We are both getting aroused again, but I protest, exclaiming that my brother is still in the bathroom.

I wake up.

That is one doozy of a dream. I couldn't possibly make something like that up...

My Vacation as Dictated by Me Myself at the Age of Eight

There is something so endearing about hearing a child talk about their vacation. They remember the most random things that sometimes seem trivial compared to the big picture. They go to Disney World for the first time and all they can talk about is seeing the elephant pooping at Animal Kingdom. It is very honest.

Well, I went to the Adirondacks on my vacation.

On Monday my friend Sam and I climbed a mountain. I hit my leg on a stump and it bleeded. There was a green bug on my arm. I smooshed it. I had to pee in the bushes because there wasn't a bathroom on the top of the mountain.

I ate two green apple Jolly Ranchers, and Sam liked the watermelon ones. I don't like watermelon anything!

On Tuesday we climbed another mountain. It was called Blue mountain but it wasn't blue. I got out of breath and there were girls up there holding hands. I climbed the stairs up the tower. My sister picked up a red salamander. It took more than forever to walk down the blue mountain. I thought we would never get to the car but then we did. I was the sweatiest I had ever been before, but Cody used the air conditioner in the car.

On Wednesday it was the 4th of July. It rained. I bought Jelly Bellys and Sam spit out a melon flavored one. We went to a store that had lots of stuff in it and I bought a book.

Even though it rained a lot, my dad still cooked on the grill. We ate hamburgers and hot dogs, but I didn't. I ate a chik pattie.

We saw the fireworks but it was raining. One of the fireworks was a circle. I like the ones that make sounds.

My favorite part of my vacation was when the ducks and the gooses came near us. We fed them Cheerios and bread. There were nine baby ducks! We counted them! There were only two baby gooses, but they were bigger than the ducks.

Sometimes, the big goose made a hissing sound and stuck out his tongue. I wasn't suppose to go near goose because they are mean and will hurt your finger with the beak.

When the ducks pooped, you could see it floating in the water.

Dreamy Wednesdays

Dream Poem

Everytime you see a tree

or dream a cloud,

there is that in you of the tree

there is that in you of the cloud.

The saguaro dreams in drought

and endures.

The cloud dreams

our woe --sneezes, cries.

The rain falls

- Elaine Maria Upton

I dreamt that my car was so buried in snow

that I had to stand on top of it

to start shoveling off.

Excuse Me While I Fire Off

This blog is not suppose to be for my tirades, but it is an opportunity to vent. Feel free to skip this blog and proceed to Dreamy Wednesdays. Much more interesting and fulfilling than listening to me bitch about my insides.

I guess I am not one for heated discussion. I start to panic as the lump rises in my throat, and I, as a thirty-year-old woman, fear I am going to cry from frustration. I know what I want to say. I know what I think, but I can't articulate it. Everthing that comes out of my mouth tastes like foot. I stumble, I babble, I say "but but but", I interrupt, I feel like I can't get a word in edgewise.

It is not a craft I have ever perfected, and I am more prone to escaping it than practicing. No, I didn't debate in high school or college.

The next day, I feel like a dolt. I can't help but recycle conversations over and over in my head. I can taste foot in my mouth from the memory of the conversation. I fear I have left a terrible impression. I fear my thoughts and opinions are unsubstantiated, and I start to look up topics on the internet to validate myself. I worry worry worry worry worry until I am in a sufficiently bad mood. This is when I get my cleaning done.

So, I guess there was a reward from a heated discussion where I didn't make my point with grace, where I fumbled with my thoughts and lost every arguement, where I feel I may have formed an opinion, left a wrong picture, and judged someone I don't know very well to harshly.

My apartment is really clean, and I think I may go for an anger driven walk. Clean aparment and exercise...

Dreamy Wednesdays

In Midnight Sleep

In midnight sleep, of many a face of anguish,
Of the look at first of the mortally wounded--of that indescribable
look;
Of the dead on their backs, with arms extended wide,
I dream, I dream, I dream.



Of scenes of nature, fields and mountains;
Of skies, so beauteous after a storm--and at night the moon so
unearthly bright,
Shining sweetly, shining down, where we dig the trenches and gather
the heaps,
I dream, I dream, I dream.



Long, long have they pass'd--faces and trenches and fields;
Where through the carnage I moved with a callous composure--or away
from the fallen,
Onward I sped at the time--But now of their forms at night,
I dream, I dream, I dream.



- Walt Whitman

11-2-03

I was in a house looking out the window at a whole line of tornadoes winding along the sky, telling Linda to look at them. She is in another room.

There is a power plant in the distance. I watch as four of the tornadoes join to make one big tornado and then, on the left, the power plant catches on fire.

I am relaying this all to Linda who is looking out the window in the other room.

Then the power plant begins to explode. I am yelling "It's exploding!" and I run out of the room as the flames get closer.

I am out of the room when the windows explode spraying glass and hot coals and sparks across the floor at my feet.

I think that Linda was still looking out the window, her nose pressed to the glass when it exploded.

Sometimes my dreams are not that cheerful, but this is one of the very few where someone close to me gets hurt. The other was when I dreamt that a friend had fallen out of a boat and drowned.

I was glad to see my friend Linda the next day...

Natures Miracle...Wind! Water! Wind and Water in Combination!

• It is Soooooooo0 hot outside! I don't have air conditioning! What should I do? Go to a movie all day? I mean it...ALL DAY? Or should I, like, go and hang out at the mall? I could just drive around in my car with the AC on for a few hours. The peak hours of heat...that is a good idea.

Here is a better one. It is kind of novel. It is kind of new. Nobody has thought of something this innovative in years.

Find a water source outside and go frolic in it! This is what I did today. I went to Stony Brook State Park, just outside of Dansville, NY.

This picture is not from todays adventure, but this is how fun it is. The water is cool and refreshing. The currents are amazing, and the wind created from the falling water is astonishing and sometimes breathtaking, despite the 93 degree heat.

My friend Kim and I went with the intention of hiking a bit (I am trying to break in new boots) and then putting on our suits and wandering the waters.

We went to the ladies locker room and put our bathing suits on. There we were, 30 year old women, walking awkwardly to our car with our towels and bags covering our bodies, feeling strangely naked in our bathing suits. I felt like I was wandering around in my underwear and that everyone knew it. When, in reality, we are women. We have womens bodies and we should act proud about it. We have gotten this far with them. They seem to be working. What the hell is wrong with 'em?

There are children walking around everywhere in their bathing suits. Their suits are falling half down, riding up their butt cracks, covered in mud and dirt, sagging in all the wrong places...they don't give a damn. That is how it should be. For everyone. It should be that way for everyone.

I settled into wearing just my suit and my Keens and thoroughly enjoyed the afternoon. There is nothing better than sitting in moving water. It sooths that aches and the soul. The largest fall at the top has a nice cool pool at the bottom of it, and I waded in until my hair was blowing from the force and the water was hitting my back. Water never falls in a consistent pattern, so each drop and splash it a shuddering surpise on your body as you stand in the fall.

I had to get out because I was cold.

By the time we got to the bottom of the falls and back to the car, I was starting to get hot again. By the time I arrived home, I was sweaty and irritated by the heat.

Forget the evil we know so fondly as AC. It is recycled air. Go where the air moves and the water moves with it!

Oh, and bring seven dollars. It costs seven dollars for natures air conditioning. I remember when it was only five dollars. Does that make me seem old. Any "I remember when ___ cost ____" is an old statement.

I Don't Care if it Kills Other Bugs...It is NOT My Friend!

I am getting squeamish in the legs just looking at that picture! I keep looking down at my toes and frantically glancing around the room.

This type of bug was IN MY APARTMENT yesterday! I saw it and began mumbling to myself in fear. I didn't move for fear of startling it to go on the run. There was no one else there. If I wanted it gone, I had to do something about it.

Actually, in retrospect, I was very lucky. The house centipede, as it is called, had unintentionally crawled into a Tupperware container I had left in the front hall. I tore through the house looking for the top so I could catch it.

I approached the Tupperware container with the utmost caution, holding the lid in my shaking hands. I slammed it on the top and willed it to snap into place, trapping the HUGE bug.

I took the container outside where, in a frantic state I held it well away from my body and opened the top, shaking the Tupperware with intense vigor for fear the thing would cling to the sides. Then I shuddered, and shuddered, and shuddered.

What am I going to do if there is another one? No, I am really asking! Someone tell me what I am going to do? It could happen anytime, anywhere in my apartment. It could crawl over my head while I am sleeping! It could be looking at me RIGHT NOW, it's creepy legs rustling, it's feelers erect.....my feet itch. There is something on my leg!!!!!!!

Okay, I have freaked out enough. I have always wondered about these creatures, as I have encountered them on many different occasions. Lets turn to our friend Wikipedia:

• The house centipede, when fully grown, has an average of 17 pairs of very long, delicate legs and a rigid body, which enables it to run with surprising speed up walls and along ceilings and floors. Its body is yellowish grey and has three dark-colored dorsal stripes running down its length; the legs also have dark stripes. Unlike most other centipedes, house centipedes and their close relatives have well-developed, faceted eyes.
  
• House centipedes feed on spiders, bedbugs, termites, cockroaches, silverfish and other household pests. They kill their prey by injecting venom through their fangs.
• House centipedes lay their eggs in the spring. In a laboratory experiment of 24 house centipedes, an average of 63 and a maximum of 151 eggs were laid.[1]
  Young centipedes have four pairs of legs when they are hatched. They gain a new pair with the first molting, and two pairs with every subsequent molting.[2] They live anywhere from three to seven years, depending on the environment. Curiously, male house centipedes are one of the few arthropods with fully prehensile genitalia.
  
• Outdoors, house centipedes prefer to live in cool, damp places. Most live outside, primarily under large rocks, piles of wood and especially in compost piles. Within the home, these centipedes are found in almost any part of the house; most commonly, they are encountered in basements, bathrooms and lavatories, where there is a lot more water, but they can also be found in dry places like offices, bedrooms and dining rooms. The greatest likelihood of encountering them is in spring, when they come out because the weather gets warmer, and in fall, when the cooling weather forces them to find shelter in human habitats.
  
• S. coleoptrata is indigenous to the Mediterranean region, but it has spread through much of Europe, Asia, and North America. In the United States, it has spread from the southern states and Mexico. It reached Pennsylvania in 1849, New York in 1885, and Massachusetts about 1890, and it now extends westward to the California coast and reaches north into Canada (Lewis 1981). House centipedes also thrive in the midwest states, such as Michigan and Ohio. In Japan, these creatures are referred to as "gejigeji," and celebrate a level of popularity. They can often be seen for sale in pet stores.
  
• Interaction with humans
  The house centipede is capable of biting a human, but this seldom occurs. When it does, it is no worse than a minor bee sting.[citation needed] The worst one can usually expect from a house centipede's bite is some pain and a slight swelling at the location of the bite.[citation needed] The symptoms generally disappear within a few hours. However, the bite can cause health problems for those few who are allergic to the extremely mild venom of its bite, which is similar to that of most normal centipedes. It is possible in some cases that a rash may develop and many minuscule bumps can form, an allergic reaction which might be comparable to a bee sting, in terms of pain, or simply itchy, as with a mosquito bite. The house centipede's venom is too weak to cause any serious harm to larger pets such as cats and dogs.
  
• Techniques for eliminating centipedes from the home include drying up the areas where they thrive, eliminating large indoor insect populations, sealing cracks in the walls, and seeking the assistance of an exterminator. Because this pest is generally benign, capturing it live and releasing it outside is another good option, although difficult to do. One method is to capitalize on the fact that centipedes generally run in straight lines. Placing a jar or open container directly in the forward path of a centipede and then inciting it to run from behind (by, for example, sprinkling water or nudging it with a sheet of paper) will generally ensure that it will run directly into the container and remain there. The container can then be closed and taken outside to a suitable spot to deposit the centipede. With a bit of luck, you can also persuade the centipede to run onto your hand, or get a hold of it with a soft item such as a towel or a facial or toilet tissue, and capture it without causing it injury.

These things terrify me.

The End

A Wonderful Material You Can't Get Rid Of

A great article on CBS Sunday Morning. I am so glad I finally bought my reusable grocery bags!

"The recycling business, like the garbage business, is all about tonnage. You want so many tons of aluminum cans and so many tons of paper that you can bale. And you can handle."
Robert Reed, Norcal Waste Systems

• To anyone who's truly green at heart, San Francisco's central recycling plant is an exhilarating sight. There, tons and tons of paper, plastic, glass and who-knows-what works its way through a mountain of belts, gears and gizmos. Much of what the city throws away gets separated, classified and bundled for sale.

• Recycling is a point of pride to Robert Reed of Norcal Waste Systems. When it comes to giving garbage a second life, no American city does it better.

• "We like to say 'life's a mess but we sort it out,'" he told CBS News correspondent John Blackstone. "There’s a Safeway bag – it doesn't go through like the rest of the stuff."

• But not everything is welcome here. Take, for instance, the ubiquitous plastic shopping bag.

• "Plastic bags — they're very light and they float around," he said. "They get twisted around things. They're a difficult material. They're one of the most difficult things to recycle. The recycling business, like the garbage business, is all about tonnage. You want so many tons of aluminum cans and so many tons of paper that you can bale. And you can handle."

• Put simply, it costs so much more to process the bags than can be earned from selling them that they're simply trucked off to the dump. And while a few flimsy bags don’t seem like much, they add up: Americans consume an estimated 100 billion of them every year.

• So many bags, they seem to grow on trees, which is why in northern New Jersey, Bill McLelland and Ian Frazier invented the bag-snagger.

• "It's annoying to see a bag in a tree. [Investing the bag snagger] was sort of a sport. It was something to do for fun," Frazier said.

• And something to do for the environment: plastic bags blowing in the wind have become a litter problem nation-wide.

• "You see a bag in a tree," McLelland said. "One bag. And you notice it. And it bugs you. And you can get that bag out of the tree. You suddenly see this tree just kind of come back to life. And you feel like, you know, you've really made a little dent in the problem."

• It's a problem that's pretty clear when you see how much we send to the dump. Each of us generates more than 1,600 pounds of garbage every year. That's more trash per person than any other nation on Earth. Much of it comes from plastic bags, plastic water bottles and plastic packaging. As some see it, our love affair with plastic has turned us into a throwaway society. The plastic heads straight to landfills, where it stays for years and years and years.

• It wasn't always like this.

• In the 19th and early 20th centuries, when it came to trash, practically nothing went to waste. Everything from rags to scrap metal to manure found a second use. Recycling was truly the American way, says Heather Rogers, author of "Gone Tomorrow: The Hidden Life of Garbage."

• "Disposability and the way that we dispose is learned — a learned behavior," she said. "We've had to be taught how to do that."

• Rogers argues that today's attitudes towards trash took root in the postwar boom, when plastics were promoted as a new wonder-material: cheap, versatile and disposable.

• "One of the first disposable plastic items was a rigid plastic cup that was dispensed in vending machines that sold coffee and hot chocolate," she said. "And after people consumed their drink, they had this cup left over that they clearly recognized could be re-used. And a discussion erupted in the plastics industry trade press about, 'How do we convince consumers that this product that clearly can be re-used is garbage?'"

• In the four decades since "The Graduate" parodied the phony or plastic values of American society, plastics really have taken over. Just look around and try to imagine a world without them.

• "The last 40 years have been good for the plastics industry," Greg Babe, chairman of the American Chemistry Council's Plastics Division said. "But the plastics industry has been very good over the last 40 years for society as well."

• Recently, the plastics industry has come under pressure to boost the relatively low percentage of plastic recycling. While close to three-quarters of cardboard boxes and nearly half of aluminum cans find new uses, only about a quarter of plastic bottles — and just 5 percent of plastic bags — get recycled.

• "We just as an industry believe that this is not a material problem. It's not a plastics problem. It's a behavioral problem," Babe said. "We don't from that then step away and say we have no responsibility; we know that we have a responsibility. Our responsibility is to help to educate the consumer and it's to ensure that as we recycle more and more of these plastics that there are going to be products in which we can use them."

• Babe predicts the rising costs of oil and natural gas — the raw materials of plastics — will encourage manufacturers to use more recycled content without the need for new laws. But right now we seem to be finding more and more ways to use more and more plastic.

• "One out of every three servings of water now comes from a bottle in the United States. And this is apparently how we're increasingly hydrating ourselves — with these big packs of petroleum-wrapped water," author Dan Imhoff said.

• Imhoff believes far too many things come wrapped in plastic. His book "Paper of Plastic" takes aim at what he considers over-packaging.

• The problem is that packaging is now a big part of the global economy: low-priced imports are protected by all that plastic for shipping, and the big boxes make them both attractive on the shelves and too bulky to shoplift.

• "It certainly catches your eye," Imhoff said. "But what are you gonna do with it when you get it home — I mean, if you safely can get this thing open?"

• When you finally get the packaging off, Imhoff said it goes in the trash and then it will be around for the next 1,000 years.

• Indeed, when plastic is thrown away, it doesn't just go away. Far out in the Pacific Ocean, where currents carry floating waste, plastic is now more plentiful than plankton. Along coastlines, seabirds are turning up dead - their bellies literally stuffed with it. In landfills, there are concerns about long-term pollution as plastic decomposes. All reasons why just last week, the city government of San Francisco announced it would stop buying bottled water.

• And remember all those bags? San Francisco's leaders have calculated that a plastic bag which costs a supermarket just a penny to buy costs the public seventeen cents to deal with as litter. So the city has moved to ban them from big chain stores and wants to replace them with biodegradable bags made from corn starch.

• Ironically, plastic bags were first introduced as an Earth-friendly alternative to paper. The discussion has left many shoppers wondering just how to respond when asked "Paper or plastic?"

• "Really, the easy answer is just neither," Imhoff said. "Neither paper nor plastic. Bring your own bag, bring something that's reusable. Have a whole stash of these reusable bags — you'll give them to your grandkids, they'll last forever!"

• Chances are, they may thank you, because as we've seen, little things have a way of adding up.

© MMVII, CBS Interactive, Inc. All Rights Reserved.

A Question About Organic Foods

I was at Wegman's the other day and I was looking for baby carrots. You know, they used to be big carrots until the lovely carrot shape was whittled away to leave a polished, squat carrot that can be popped into the mouth without using a peeler.

Anyways, a bag of baby carrots. the only kind I could find were organic. Translation, more expensive. Well, I didn't want to pay more for the organic baby carrots so I wandered the produce section until I found the regular ones. They were prominently displayed, but in a place I had never seen them before usually reserved for the exotic fruits...like pomegranates!

Now, there is a reason for everything. Why were the regular, cheaper baby carrots moved to a different location? Why did I have to really search the semi-small produce section to find them? Was I being an idiot and they were right under my nose, or is the Wegman's trying to get me to mistakenly buy the organic ones? Would the average person become frustrated by the search and eventually settle for paying more just so they didn't have to look anymore?

This wouldn't bother me if it was just an isolated incident, but it has happened to me with romaine hearts as well. I have also observed the organic and regular vegetables being displayed right next to each other, where someone could very easily grab the wrong bag, either way.

I don't like the idea that someone is trying to *dupe me.

I also don't like the idea that someone is trying to get me to spend more money.

That is a fact. Organic food and vegetables cost more money. We know it. The companies that produce it know it. The stores that sell it know it.

It is my prerogative to buy non-organic. I shouldn't have to decipher the produce department to do so. Vice Versa.

If organic vegetables are the safe way, and my produce is killing me, I am sure I will find out eventually and start buying organic. In the meantime, put my carrots and my romaine hearts where I can find them!

*Main Entry: 1dupe Pronunciation: 'düp also 'dyüpFunction: nounEtymology: French, from Middle French duppe, probably alteration of huppe hoopoe: one that is easily deceived or cheated

Learning on a Thursday

I don't know anything about pomegranate. It seems such an exotic thing. It is a wonderful muted red color that exudes sophistication, such does it's name. Pomegranate. It is the color of the duvet cover you want from Pottery Barn, or the new moisture wicking shirt you bought from Prana. It is the color of my leather flats from Aldo. It the color of the ultralight couch you drool over in the L.L. Bean catalogue.

I have never eaten a pomegranate and admit that I would have to Google "how to eat a pomegranate" before I got a knife out of the block.

A week ago I bought seltzer that was pomegranate. I was worried I wouldn't like it, and was pleasently suprised at its mild taste. Today I bought Arizona's Pomegranate Green Tea. I don't know if it tasted like pomegranate, but I guess it did. It also had caffeine, which is to blame for my current manic state.

So, the pomegranate. Let's learn something, shall we? I will turn to Wikipedia for my facts:

• The Pomegranate (Punica granatum) is a fruit-bearing deciduous shrub or small tree growing to 5–8 m tall


• The fruit is between an orange and a grapefruit in size, 7–12 cm in diameter with a rounded hexagonal shape, and has thick reddish skin and around 600 seeds. [1] The edible parts are the seeds and the red seed pulp surrounding them; indeed, the fruit of the pomegranate is a berry. There are some cultivars which have been introduced that have a range of pulp colours like purple.


• A common nickname for the pomegranate is "Chinese Apple"


• After opening the pomegranate by scoring it with a knife and breaking it open, the arils (seed casings) are separated from the skin (peel) and internal white supporting structures (pith and carpellary membrane). Separating the red arils can be simplified by performing this task in a bowl of water, whereby the arils will sink and the white structures will float to the top. The entire seed is consumed raw, though the fleshy outer portion of the seed is the part that is desired. The taste differs depending on the variety of pomegranate and its state of ripeness. It can be very sweet or it can be very sour or tangy, but most fruits lie somewhere in between, which is the characteristic taste, laced with notes of its tannin.


• It is more likely that the Forbidden fruit was a pomegranate rather than an apple, given its etymology and the location's assumed habitat. Genesis


• Exodus chapter 28:33–34 directed that images of pomegranates be woven onto the borders of Hebrew priestly robes. 1 Kings chapter 7:13–22 describes pomegranates depicted in the temple King Solomon built in Jerusalem. Jewish tradition teaches that the pomegranate is a symbol for righteousness, because it is said to have 613 seeds which corresponds with the 613 mitzvot or commandments of the Torah. For this reason and others many Jews eat pomegranates on Rosh Hashanah.

So, the pomegranate. If you are anything like me, you knew nothing about it, and now you do. I love the bible references. And all of this time we were using an apple to represent the forbidden fruit!

Go out! Be fruitful and buy a pomegranate! Separate the seeds, eat and enjoy!

Dreamy Wednesdays

Dreams

All people dream, but not equally.
Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their mind,
Wake in the morning to find that it was vanity.

But the dreamers of the day are dangerous people,
For they dream their dreams with open eyes,
And make them come true.

-D.H. Lawrence

I have a lot of weird dreams. They are driven by the temperature of my sleep, the deepness of my sleep, the activity out of my window, the traffic, the silence. I don't really ever have nightmares, though some dreams have left me ill at ease. Usually, they are just bizarre, and I have often popped up in bed to grab my journal and get it all down on paper before it floats out of my head as quickly as it arrived, and I am left with the hollow feeling that something important had just happened, and I can't remember what it was.

Everyone knows that dreams usually don't make sense in your head. You float around with friends you haven't seen in years in places you have never been, wearing things you wouldn't wear and doing things you wouldn't do. Nothing makes sense.

It is even worse when you write it down...though it can also seem poetic.

4-28

I dreamt that we were in a locker room, I think.

There was tile everywhere. So I am pretty sure it was a locker room.

I was with my mother and someone else, a friend.

We were about to leave and I got a searing pain in my lower stomach.

Then I started bleeding like I had my period, but it wasn't that.

My mom was freaking out and she made me sit in a tub while she called the hospital.

I kept bleeding and bleeding while my mom sat there with me.

I got blood on the tub and I apologized to her for it.

When you write down a dream, and you return later to read it, it is like reliving a memory. It is vivid and brings back familiar feelings. As if it had really happened...

No Date

I dreamt that I was at a coffee house in the airport, sitting across from Rob M. I was sipping coffee out of a white mug as he leaned over to kiss me, kissing the ceramic mug instead. I put the mug down, sort of laughing at the blunder, and we kissed each other.

Then we were at Big Moose and the waterfront was flooded.

We waded down into the lawn, the water reaching up over our waists.

We swim in the shallow but not, twisting and turning under the water, I am wearing all my clothing, and my hair is twisting and flowing through the water, covering my face.

I am swimming alone.

8:56- Memoir of the Dentally Challenged

Yesterday I got my front teeth fixed. What is wrong with my teeth? Let's go back, back, back.

The year is I have no idea. I am I don't know years old...maybe 12 or 13. It is summer. The pool is blue, the sky is blue, the grass green. It is glorious.

My mom always told us to use the ladder to get out of the pool. There were actually two ladders. The ladder in the deep end and the ladder in the shallow end...which was for chumps and little kids.

We didn't use the ladder it wasn't cool. I didn't use the ladder that day. My hands slipped, I fell back into the water, I didn't move my teeth out of the way of the side of the pool. I shattered most of my front teeth, leaving that cool boxer or hockey player look. Not cool for an adolescent girl already struggling to like herself even a bit.

What did my mother say? You can imagine it had something to do with using the ladder to get out of the pool.

So, here I am, years later, in the dentist chair. The front of my face is numb and there are drilling sounds and the distinct smell of burning and nail polish remover. That is the stuff they use to build up the composite. It smells and it burns my tongue. It is seeping down near my salivary glands and the taste is attacking my senses. The dentist mumbles to the hygienist who uses this curious gizmo that has is orange with a blue light. I think it is melting or molding composite onto my teeth. The dentist uses what looks like a wide piece of dental floss to smooth and polish the new space between my teeth. It catches my gums and I feel a slight sting as the Novocaine is starting to wear off.

"Novocaine starting to wear off, eh?" He says. This is where it turns bad. Something is not right with one of the teeth and he starts applying the nail polish smelling stuff. It stings my gums. He has cut my gums and put some stinking gunk in there. It stings and it tastes terrible. He uses the drill and a sander to smooth my new teeth, hitting my gums as I clasp my hands helplessly together and try not to look worried. I realize that my eyes are as wide as 50 cent gumballs and my eyebrows are pushed up to my hairline. I relax my face and put on a nonchalant look as my gums sizzle under the composite and drill action.

I think the dentist is satisfied. He stops looking into my mouth and I hear the snap of the rubber gloves.

"You can eat right away, but your gums may be a bit sore." He says in a flat tone as he wanders off toward his office. I was his last patient of the day.

"No shit" I think.

What was on the menu for dinner, you ask? I made pasta salad with Balsamic Vinaigrette dressing. Ouch.

In the end, it was worth it. My teeth looked good. I had a new smile. Until I ate dinner this evening. One minute I was eating, and the next my tooth didn't feel right. I dashed to the nearest mirror to have a look. It is coming off! My tooth is coming off!

I can taste the sour stinging flavor of the composite already. I can hear the drill. I can smell the sander and feel the water spraying everywhere. I can't wait to get back to the dentist.