plato caligula lucifersam apollo

Wednesday, November 28, 2007

DREAM: Plato, Farm and Art Show Anxiety

I dreamt I was at a farm or ranch or very large greenhouse. Plato was there and he jumped over a large gate to get to me, even though he could have gone through some holes in the gate/fence. There were some young boys around 7 years old there, and Stan asked them whether they wanted to play with our dog or some other option that to me seemed less desirable than playing with a dog. They chose playing with Plato, so we let them go off on the ranch with him. Then I was walking through a greenhouse-like area, but some of the plants looked more like rocks, or trays of soft pastels layed out in rows. Then it got quite surreal. I was hearing Bill's voice, but I couldn't see him. Then, the greenhouse turned into art studios or the 7th floor gallery at the inhumanities building at the UW, and I had to sign up for a show schedule (another grad school graduation anxiety dream 15 years too late). Later, I saw Stan walking back to the entrance area with Plato, and I guess we went home.

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Tuesday, November 27, 2007

Various

I've been sick for almost a week now with a really bad sore throat. I got it from Stan. He's better now, and it progresses every day (today it's not as sore as it was, but my ears feel like they've been stuffed with cotton), so I know it's nothing serious, just some obnoxious virus.

Each day Caligula hisses less at Apollo, but they're far from snuggle lovers. That might take years. Apollo actually gets along with Plato the best, probably because they're both Alphas and they've worked it out (meaning little kitty bites Plato, Plato puts little kitten in his place). Apollo likes to lovebite Lucifer Sam, but the bites are getting less annoying and Lucifer Sam is tolerating him more.

Watched a really enjoyable show last night on Sundance channel called "Nimrod Nation." The Nimrods is the school mascot for Watersmeet, Michigan. It's a documentary that revolves around the high school basketball team, the Nimrods, but it also shows a lot of the small town life and local characters. The setting is very Fargo-esque, and a good thing to watch on a cold night because it makes you feel glad you're in balmier climes. No really, the best line I've heard from any documentary came from "Nimrods" when a teenage girl is complaining about living in the Upper Peninsula and says "I don't like living in Michigan, it's too cold. I want to move to Wisconsin." Stan and I went through Watersmeet a couple times. We spent the night there once in a grungey little hunters' motel/cabin to see the Paulding lights back in 1997. We refused to stay in the casino, the only other lodging in town. That was mid-September and the weather was nice, and the pond by our cabin was idyllic. But this documentary is shot in winter, not as welcoming.

I have this horrible reocurring dream that is always the same theme: I haven't graduated from either under-grad or graduate school, I haven't scheduled my final show yet, or taken an outside credit, or even figured out which semester I'm going to graduate. I had one of those dreams last night. And at the end I'm always thinking, "maybe I can put off graduating another semester, it doesn't really matter anyway." Ugh. I'm so glad that part of my life is over and completed. I don't know why I keep having these dreams.

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Monday, November 12, 2007

Good News

The vet aspirated Lucifer Sam's lump and couldn't find any suspicious cells. She says that it is possibly a lipoma which is a benign tumor made of fat cells or a swollen sebaceous gland, but nothing that needs immediate surgery. We do need to keep an eye on it, and if it does get bigger, however, we will need to have it re-aspirated, but most likely it is benign.

She said that his previous cancerous lump, the fibrosarcoma, was not something that would spread, so the chances of him getting another one, especially one on a completely different part of the body, are pretty low.

This lump also had a different feel to it, and limpomas are pretty common and unrelated to his previous condition.

I'm quite relieved!

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Non-Ornamental Illness

This weekend was a rollercoaster of emotions. I sold a painting...a large one, which really helps since this past month or two has been dead dead dead for the online sales. The family who bought it saw it at Sundance Cinema a few months ago. Sundance, by the way, called me back for a return showing a few weeks ago since the people/gallery/organization they had scheduled pulled out at the last minute because they thought Sundance's exposure would "dilute" their "image"--ok, whatever...I'm really glad I showed there, not just because it resulted in a sale of a large piece, but just because it's good exposure. At first I thought the people who pulled out were maybe some kind of snooty artschool conceptual theory types, but when I found their gallery online, I was really amazed that they had the nerve to pull out of a classy venue like Sundance. Well, their loss is my gain.

Anyway, I'm digressing. I was feeling a bit melancholy missing Letha and how her magenta rainbows will never embrace our wall again. And then Stan found a new lump on Lucifer Sam. This one is on his back.

The rest of the night I spent puking and endlessly voiding myself. I stayed up all night in a delirium, like a bad drunken reaction or a horrible flu. I simply cannot take another episode of these pet disasters. I hate to play favorites, but Lucifer Sam is my favorite pet. And this happening to him again is too much for me.

I suspect I have a panic disorder. But all the triggers are known, they don't happen out of the blue. Recently, it has been pet health issues, like when I thought the little kitten was horribly ill because he had diarrhea and vomited...all it was was too much running and a change of food. But the lump...a couple months after his other cancer...this is just too much.

I couldn't eat anything yesterday, but towards the middle of the day I had Stan get me some donuts. That was the only thing I had a taste for. Why donuts? Who knows. These situations give me weird cravings, usually for food I normally don't eat. We seldom ever eat donuts. We probably average one donut a year. Except this year sort of blew that average because of yesterday.

We take Lucifer Sam in today to get checked. I am so fearful.

I get these attacks when something is messing with my life, either with pet health issues, or when people mess with me interpersonally. This last one with the Pug was the worst yet. Stan said I looked really weak and pale. I looked up panic disorder online, but it seems those are more spontaneous in occurrence. This is not spontaneous or an unknown trigger. I know exactly what causes it. I'd be just fine if there was no lump on my Pug. I'd have been just fine in the past if people weren't being assholes. I'm not talking run-of-the-mill difficult customers, I'm talking people who have it in for you through no fault of your own, because they're mentally unstable or petty or bullies, or whatever, and they act like 10-year-olds even though they're adults.

Last night I had an embarrassing dream that I was making love to Johnny Depp. His hair was too short, though, pity. I kept wondering in the dream "what does he want with ME?"

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Saturday, November 10, 2007

DREAM: Ugly Apartment with Snooty Gallery Attachment

I was with my parents and Stan (I think). They were trying to find a place to rent--an apartment. They/we drove to a large 3-4 story apartment complex with a whole bunch of playground equipment on the outside of the building, like scaffolding or waterpark equipment. Despite all that hideousness, the apartment building looked very nice from the outside; not so nice on the inside. My parents went into the unit that was for lease, but I was later in coming in, so I had to call out "Mom!" in front of a whole bunch of doors before she responded. I went into the door and it was just awful inside. The walls were mid-century lime green-painted cinder bricks, the windows were up high like basement windows although this was a first-floor unit. Although I didn't go into them, the 3 bedrooms all came off of the long, dark, main room. No hallway, no area of separation, no privacy. I have no idea why, but I was going to live with them (horror of horrors), possibly with Stan there as well. Just give me the razor blades now. Anyway, I wandered around toward the back of the main room and found an open doorway that led directly into another room that was a very nice, classy furniture store/art gallery. There was also an open stairway that led upstairs, but I didn't go there. I walked into the store room and saw that it was a functioning business during business hours. Why it was attached to this apartment was a mystery. There was some art on the wall that resembled my own, some like the way I painted maybe around 20 years ago with abstract figures, and then some others that looked like the way I paint now, except not as beautiful and colorful, and more like the tar paintings in the Wim Winders movie, Million Dollar Hotel (apologies to Stan for using a movie reference in here that he hasn't seen...I watched it one day on IFC or Sundance when he was at work...sorry). I went back into the apartment and saw the realtor agent/landlady there who was or looked like a teacher of mine from high school (creative writing and drama). I asked her if the furniture store/gallery was actually part of this apartment, and she said no. I told her about the paintings and how they resembled mine, and that although I don't like the apartment, I would rent there if this place also showed my art. She thought it was a great idea, and that we should talk to the people there to see if that would be ok. I followed here there and I was expecting her to do the talking because I hate doing stuff like that. But no, she just waited for me to talk (thanks a lot). I explained my situation to a couple of people there, and one woman started shaking her head "no" before I even finished what I was saying. They seemed like pretentious assholes from the UW, a gallery full of shit-painting friends. As I wandered around the place some more, there was a studio area where some of the artists were still working on pieces. Some of the paintings were hung upside down so the paint would form stalagtites (as if that were possible).

Then I got caught up in eating reception food that was quite odd. I commented to Stan that this whole thing was like the movie "After Hours". (In fact, come to think of it, some of the art seemed like the art in that movie, except it was painting, not sculptures) One of the reception foods was a hard-boiled egg that was the size of a mango. I took my egg over to a high table with barstools that was difficult to eat at, especially because sitting next to me was this very heavy-set ruddy-complected bare-armed biker man with tiny orange freckles all over his body. Then my egg, which had paprika sprinkled on it started to resemble the man's freckles. It was gross. I looked over at some plants by a window and there was a cat or something chasing a chameleon around a large tropical. Not an anole, but a true chameleon...with the weird eyes and hands.

The whole dream left me with a pissed-off feeling about the art world and why I hate it. It's no better than Bush administration cronyism.

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Wednesday, November 07, 2007

Glaucoma

I had the extensive test for Glaucoma this afternoon and although there are certain issues that need to be watched that may possibly be a precursor to Glaucoma, I do not presently have it. Who knows, maybe by the time I would get it, I'll already be dead, especially considering the political state of the world. So there's no need to get out the razor blades tonight.

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Tuesday, November 06, 2007

Weird, Weird Stuff

Friday Stan and I took a drive down to southern Wisconsin to go to a greenhouse and see some scenery. Coming back on a two-lane highway, a rock was flicked from an oncoming pickup onto our (newly replaced this past spring) windshield, making one of the loudest rock hits I've ever heard. We've gotten dings before, but this one was loud. When we got home, we examined the damage. The vertical crack was a little more than an inch long. I felt it, and could feel the crack penetrate the windshield. Stan contacted Auto Glass Specialists (they're the guys in the little red truck...if you've got one in your area) and they said they can repair cracks up to 6 inches long. After Stan came home from work yesterday, he took the car in. I stayed home because I was busy. Shortly thereafter, much more shortly than one could possibly imagine a windshield even being looked at, let alone repaired, Stan returned. Thinking that perhaps they couldn't repair our hopeless ding, or that they were too busy to work on it, Stan said that they looked and looked and neither he nor the repair guy could find a crack. Thinking "typical male incompetence" (sorry, Stan, but you'd do the same), I went outside to examine it.

There was no crack. I could not find a crack.

WTF.

Cue Twilight Zone music.

There was a crack there. Then there wasn't. WTF.

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Monday, November 05, 2007

Cat Stuff

Our so-called "vacation" is over. We didn't go anywhere. Nowhere. It just wouldn't have worked out, even to go up north and spend the night for a day or two. I think the kitten is too young for this--I want him to get acclimated to this house first. Well, he's not in the "house" yet, just the upstairs, which is really cramped and filled with art and boxes and plants that he's not supposed to get into (I caught him peeing in the large coleus plants the other day, so Stan put this nylon "goat wire" over them.). Mostly the kitten is confined to the upstairs bathroom when we're not around to watch him. This quarantine is killer. Next time, we're getting the elder cat vaccinated for leukemia first. Had I only known...I guess we didn't even think about it back when we got Caligula--maybe we had been giving Persephone the shots, but I know we had stopped for Natasha. And that turned out ok. Maybe they're more cautious now. Who knows.

Note, if you're confused, here's the deal: Yes, we had Caligula vaccinated for feline leukemia, but we stopped when he was about 3 per the advice of the vets because he is an indoor cat, and they suggest not continuing the shots for indoor-only cats. Not forseeing that if we bring a new young kitten into the house who can't be verified leukemia-negative until a certain age, we cannot have Caligula exposed until that kitten's final leukemia test, just on the off-chance the kitten has it, we don't want it spreading to Caligula. (I doubt he does). Hence, we have Caligula on the first floor and basement access, and Apollo upstairs.

Needless to say, I have this antsy "I want to travel feeling" which won't be satisfied until spring at the soonest. I don't feel rested, even though I slept better than i would've on an actual vacation, being in my own bed and all.

OK, here's a thought. Why don't dry cat and dog food manufacturers offer a free cat or dog toy inside, like the way cereal does for kids? I think this would be great! I mean, pet toys are made as much for people, with all the sparkly bright colors, as they are for pets. Humans, even adults, like getting free brightly colored bonus things. If they didn't, store shelves wouldn't be as full of pink bippity balls and turquoise piddy mice and chartreuse dingle birds for kitties and all the multi-colored balls and faux-bones and stuffed chewtoys for dogs. If we didn't like these things, we'd just give our dogs old shoes and socks and our cats pieces of paper and tin foil. I think this would be a great marketing device, even if we educated pet owners buy food on the basis of the food itself. It couldn't hurt, right?

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