Thursday, June 25, 2009
OMG CUTE.
Reminds me of the dream I had the other night that was full of fluffy kittens, no joke.
Also reminds me of the baby squirrel we saw running around in that girl's hair at the Roxy.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
End, again.
Leaving NYC tomorrow, unfortunately.
Waiting around with my sister while she cleans her apartment (I keep trying to help but it doesn't seem that there's much I can do) for the person who's coming over later to maybe live with her for the next year. We'll see.
I had a great time, but I'm feeling pretty melancholy today. Maybe it's PMS, more likely it's a combination of that and Father's Day really just dredging up a ton of horrible emotions. I don't know what's wrong with me. I feel like I'm an open book about most things. I'm not really ashamed of anything, or prudish, or any of that. But when something actually hurts me or bothers me in a way that is more than superficial, I can't talk about it. It stays corked up on the inside and even if I desperately want to say something the words catch in my throat and die.
And so instead of doing something fun right now, I'm in my sister's apartment, alone, thinking about my newly broken family and trying to fight back tears. It isn't working. For some reason, having someone see me cry is absolutely mortifying.
Waiting around with my sister while she cleans her apartment (I keep trying to help but it doesn't seem that there's much I can do) for the person who's coming over later to maybe live with her for the next year. We'll see.
I had a great time, but I'm feeling pretty melancholy today. Maybe it's PMS, more likely it's a combination of that and Father's Day really just dredging up a ton of horrible emotions. I don't know what's wrong with me. I feel like I'm an open book about most things. I'm not really ashamed of anything, or prudish, or any of that. But when something actually hurts me or bothers me in a way that is more than superficial, I can't talk about it. It stays corked up on the inside and even if I desperately want to say something the words catch in my throat and die.
And so instead of doing something fun right now, I'm in my sister's apartment, alone, thinking about my newly broken family and trying to fight back tears. It isn't working. For some reason, having someone see me cry is absolutely mortifying.
Saturday, June 13, 2009
No Cars Go
Literally.
Thirty miles to Philadelphia and the car starts making a weird rattling noise. Good things. We turn around; now it's 1:30 and I'm sitting in the living room, waiting.
I find that depriving myself of sleep to the point where I don't really care about anything works really well for situations like this that involve a lot of waiting. Time just floats by without you noticing.
Ostensibly I'll be in NYC tomorrow. Ostensibly.
Thirty miles to Philadelphia and the car starts making a weird rattling noise. Good things. We turn around; now it's 1:30 and I'm sitting in the living room, waiting.
I find that depriving myself of sleep to the point where I don't really care about anything works really well for situations like this that involve a lot of waiting. Time just floats by without you noticing.
Ostensibly I'll be in NYC tomorrow. Ostensibly.
Friday, June 12, 2009
Off Again
I'm going to NYC tomorrow, the long way. Driving to Philly first (or maybe Trenton? I'm not sure) and taking the train. So I guess I'll be there tomorrow night? Even I'm not sure.
It's hard to make plans when the time frame changes every day. Still need to buy a plane ticket back.
I'm excited, but a little nervous. I'll take my film camera again. Why not? Apparently my sister isn't talking to my dad. Shit. I hope this doesn't get awkward. Maybe she was just lying to make my mother feel better. Or being lazy.
I don't know. I can't be angry or distant, can't take sides, and I hope to god she doesn't want me to do any of those things. I resent her just a little for her distance.
But still, I'm really looking forward to spending time with her.
Sunday, June 7, 2009
Dancing Days
Kenna told me to google the dream, so I did.
I don't have anything better to do right now, admittedly. I'm thinking of a photo for today and waiting to take a shower (I just went for an 18-mile bike ride... and it's hot out).
Anyway:
On birds:
I'm seriously chuckling at the thought of someone specifically being Asian having ANY kind of meaning. Aren't they just people? What if you're an Asian and there's an Asian person in your dream?! If you're Asian and YOU are in your OWN dream, does it mean that there is always an "aspect of you that is unknown to yourself"?
Also, the site told me what seeing my own grandparents meant, but wtf does it mean if you see someone ELSE'S grandparents?
God, what a total fail!
I don't have anything better to do right now, admittedly. I'm thinking of a photo for today and waiting to take a shower (I just went for an 18-mile bike ride... and it's hot out).
Anyway:
On birds:
To see deformed or odd birds in your dream, indicates that you have a unique outlook and perspective on romance and love. The dream may also represent a lack of understanding in affairs of the heart.On Asia:
To dream that you are in Asia, suggests that you need to adjust to some situation. If you are traveling to Asia or thinking about visiting Asia, then your dream may indicate your anticipation of such a trip.On airplanes/airports:
To see an Asian person in your dream, represents an aspect of your own self that is unknown to you. Additionally, to see an elderly Asian person, represents wisdom and knowledge.
To dream that you miss your connection flight, indicates that you are feeling helpless and trapped by some situation. You feel that you are being held back, either physically or mentally. Alternatively, the dream may also suggest that you are feeling disconnected in some aspect of your life - work, relationship or home life.On being in a taxi or hailing one:
To see a busy airport in your dream, signifies the desire for freedom, high ideals, ambition, and hopes. It is an indication that you are approaching a new departure in your life. Some new idea is taking off or is ready to take off. You may be experiencing a new relationship, new career path or new adventure.
To dream that your are hailing a cab, suggests that you need to ask for help in order to be able to move forward in some waking situation.So... I need to ask an elderly Asian person for help, and they will then take advantage of me?
To dream that you are in a cab, indicates that you are being taken for a ride. Someone is taking advantage of you.
I'm seriously chuckling at the thought of someone specifically being Asian having ANY kind of meaning. Aren't they just people? What if you're an Asian and there's an Asian person in your dream?! If you're Asian and YOU are in your OWN dream, does it mean that there is always an "aspect of you that is unknown to yourself"?
Also, the site told me what seeing my own grandparents meant, but wtf does it mean if you see someone ELSE'S grandparents?
God, what a total fail!
Strange
I had the strangest dream last night. No, really.
First, Polly and my Dad told me that I could go to the Philippines this summer if I wanted to. I said yes, of course, and we tried to plan it out. I got on the plane to go there and we stopped in Thailand first. We were at some strange kind of wild animal park, but it was part of the city, and I just wandered through alone. I started to feel a little nervous. I saw these strange birds on top of a few poles, and one flew down into my hands. It started to burrow, and created a little suction pocket so that it was actually stuck to my hands. They were like some strange combination of cat and bird. Other people noticed and did the same thing. I realized I didn't have my camera with me and started to freak out a little bit, and decided to go back to the hotel or whatever to make sure I'd left it there. I saw a few people I knew on the way out (I think that was part of a different dream, though).
Somehow, I ended up instead at the Manila airport (though in my dream it wasn't SUPER ghetto). I was going to catch my flight home. I went through security and everything and then I realized that I didn't have any of my luggage or my passport, and that I couldn't go home. I started freaking out a little. I took a shower in the airport bathroom (which had showers?) and walked around in a towel. I ran out of the airport dripping wet and wrapped in it, trying to find a taxi. I didn't have any luck on the top floor (where you catch the airport-endorsed ones), and instead people just gawped at barely-dressed me, so I went outside and ran down to the front of the building, which looked more like a courthouse or something from outside. All of these kids were in some weird kind of internal part of the first floor, having a party. I tried to talk to one of my friends and ask for help but she was on drugs. There was a creepy-ass basement thing with a strange elevator of sorts that was more like a small metal cage, but I quickly realized that was incorrect because you couldn't take your luggage up or down it.
I stood around on the street for awhile, trying to see a taxi to hail. Found one, waved my arms like a maniac, and he came over. He wouldn't take me back to my hotel unless he could see my passport. As I talked to him, a car full of Indians was making fun of my rapid arm movements and laughing disdainfully. I was crying and I didn't know what to do and I confronted them. They told me that my smooth-talking skills were lacking, and that I should've been able to get him to give me a ride. I asked where I could catch a taxi that wouldn't make me show a passport, and they said that the only other place was across the street. We all crossed the street (?) and I started to talk to them. I said I was nervous because I wasn't supposed to take taxis alone (totally true, who knows where they might take you?) but didn't have a choice, and that I only had a few hours or I would miss my flight and not be able to get home. They softened a little towards me and understood more. We talked for awhile, and they were still kind of mean, but not as mean. Then I looked at my phone and realized that the time it listed was 1 pm, and my flight was at 4, but my clock was actually off. Kevin told me the real time was 4 and I had to just scrap the whole "catching my flight" idea.
After awhile I realized that we were actually in the Indian grandfather's limo, heading who-knows-where. It was packed full of strange people. Kevin was there, somehow, and I asked him when HE planned on going home, since I was trying to leave as soon as possible. He didn't understand when I told him I was trying to rebook and I had to tell him like twenty times. We got back to my room (incidentally, it was the REAL room I stayed in in Manila last year) and I straightened it out.
I don't know how anything resolved, but when I got home I realized that my parents had been playing tons and tons of computer games in my absence, because there was a scoresheet tacked up on the fridge.
First, Polly and my Dad told me that I could go to the Philippines this summer if I wanted to. I said yes, of course, and we tried to plan it out. I got on the plane to go there and we stopped in Thailand first. We were at some strange kind of wild animal park, but it was part of the city, and I just wandered through alone. I started to feel a little nervous. I saw these strange birds on top of a few poles, and one flew down into my hands. It started to burrow, and created a little suction pocket so that it was actually stuck to my hands. They were like some strange combination of cat and bird. Other people noticed and did the same thing. I realized I didn't have my camera with me and started to freak out a little bit, and decided to go back to the hotel or whatever to make sure I'd left it there. I saw a few people I knew on the way out (I think that was part of a different dream, though).
Somehow, I ended up instead at the Manila airport (though in my dream it wasn't SUPER ghetto). I was going to catch my flight home. I went through security and everything and then I realized that I didn't have any of my luggage or my passport, and that I couldn't go home. I started freaking out a little. I took a shower in the airport bathroom (which had showers?) and walked around in a towel. I ran out of the airport dripping wet and wrapped in it, trying to find a taxi. I didn't have any luck on the top floor (where you catch the airport-endorsed ones), and instead people just gawped at barely-dressed me, so I went outside and ran down to the front of the building, which looked more like a courthouse or something from outside. All of these kids were in some weird kind of internal part of the first floor, having a party. I tried to talk to one of my friends and ask for help but she was on drugs. There was a creepy-ass basement thing with a strange elevator of sorts that was more like a small metal cage, but I quickly realized that was incorrect because you couldn't take your luggage up or down it.
I stood around on the street for awhile, trying to see a taxi to hail. Found one, waved my arms like a maniac, and he came over. He wouldn't take me back to my hotel unless he could see my passport. As I talked to him, a car full of Indians was making fun of my rapid arm movements and laughing disdainfully. I was crying and I didn't know what to do and I confronted them. They told me that my smooth-talking skills were lacking, and that I should've been able to get him to give me a ride. I asked where I could catch a taxi that wouldn't make me show a passport, and they said that the only other place was across the street. We all crossed the street (?) and I started to talk to them. I said I was nervous because I wasn't supposed to take taxis alone (totally true, who knows where they might take you?) but didn't have a choice, and that I only had a few hours or I would miss my flight and not be able to get home. They softened a little towards me and understood more. We talked for awhile, and they were still kind of mean, but not as mean. Then I looked at my phone and realized that the time it listed was 1 pm, and my flight was at 4, but my clock was actually off. Kevin told me the real time was 4 and I had to just scrap the whole "catching my flight" idea.
After awhile I realized that we were actually in the Indian grandfather's limo, heading who-knows-where. It was packed full of strange people. Kevin was there, somehow, and I asked him when HE planned on going home, since I was trying to leave as soon as possible. He didn't understand when I told him I was trying to rebook and I had to tell him like twenty times. We got back to my room (incidentally, it was the REAL room I stayed in in Manila last year) and I straightened it out.
I don't know how anything resolved, but when I got home I realized that my parents had been playing tons and tons of computer games in my absence, because there was a scoresheet tacked up on the fridge.
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