Friday, June 28, 2002
Pets are fine, Stan is fine.
I am not, neither is my main Mac.
Yesterday/last night was the worst time in my life. I'd rather have strep throat. Have been throwing up constantly.
Will be logging off for a while, indefinitely.
Posted by Ann on 06/28/02@07:38 AM CST ..::Link::..
Wednesday, June 26, 2002
When I skewered their sacred cows, no one came to my barbeque. But now I'm sitting back, watching them all choke on their own beef.
People said I was wrong when I spoke against organized religion.
People said I was a malcontent when I said I hated corporations.
People thought I was mean for not admiring Martha Stewart.
Pedophilia in the Catholic Church.
Unscrupulous Accounting Practices in Large Corporations.
Martha Stewart Insider Trading.
Fine. Just ignore me then. I'll let you deal with your own problems. Just don't you ever call me crazy again.
Posted by Ann on 06/26/02@12:11 PM CST ..::Link::..
DREAM-distorted sense of time
Bizarro dream where I was in the presence of a woman I sort of worked with at my job-from-hell in 1985. I think her husband was possibly VP of that doomed-for-failure company. She seemed nice though...nothing against her, but I'm not entirely sure what her job duties were. Mine was disposable fill-in slave. IRL, she had a daughter who was about 4 at the time (which would make her an adult now), but in my dream I was asking her how her daughter was and I said, "she must be about 12 now, isn't she?" I think other people from that wretched place were in the dream too, but I can't really remember much else. Oh, what an absolutely horrid time in my life. Only benefit is that we could take a movie or two home every night to watch. (They supplied video tapes and clunky rental players to motels, convenience stores, supermarkets, etc.)
Posted by Ann on 06/26/02@08:54 AM CST ..::Link::..
Tuesday, June 25, 2002
Stan and I were in Colorado, visiting his mom in Montrose. We were outside and Stan nudges my arm and points up to the sky at a fighter plane that is exhibiting erratic behavior. The plane looks like some stealth triangular-shaped thing from Star Wars or some such movie...stingray shaped. We notice that it has a wing that appears broken or bent. It keeps flying around over what appears to be Fort Collins (it's a dream, ok?), making loops and diving and ascending. It looks like it's coming toward us, so we hold eachother say our love-yous and goodbyes. Then finally it nosedives into a tall, newer building in Fort Collins. Stan and I look at eachother and say, "well, we better watch the news." We go into Stan's mom's house and turn on the TV, but her cable channels are limited, and all we can find on the telly are dog food ads featuring pugs. One of the pugs was very strange looking...it looked like a little man. I comment on that and Stan's mom laughs. Then as we keep switching the channels, we come across another tv show featuring a man with a black stubble-beard and a small nose, round face, and I say that he looks like a pug, but Stan's mom doesn't laugh at that. We do find a news show, but they don't report on anything about the plane crash. I find the cover-up very odd.
I was watching a baby nurse a woman, but it was very weird. The baby had milk in its mouth which the mother extracted with her hand, (I guess it was in a somewhat solid state) put it in an opening in her body cavity, which I guess made its way on its own to her breasts, which in turn the baby nursed. Weird.
I was at the gallery where I'll be having my show and talking to some people there. There was a girl there, maybe high school age, who was writing down the names of my paintings and spelling them wrong. I told her she was doing that and she told me it didn't matter. I was also talking to the director, and she was telling me that one time she hung someone's painting upside down because they didn't have wire on the back to give an indication of how it should be hung, and they got really mad. We laughed at that. Later, I was walking around the gallery and noticed that there was more to it than I realized, mostly with people's private studios. I noticed that anyone could go in there and take their art supplies and no one would know.
Posted by Ann on 06/25/02@07:28 AM CST ..::Link::..
Sunday, June 23, 2002
Tale of two "Steves"
I was in Madison, and I was sitting at a table with some people, one who I used to know from high school in Fort Collins, yet our topic of conversation wasn't Fort Collins or the past. For the sake of this dream, I'm calling him "Steve." IRL, Steve was an identical twin. His twin was more of a jock, quieter. Steve was more outgoing, hung around with girls, and if he wasn't gay, I'll eat an entire tube of lipbalm. Steve is one of the very few people I'd actually *like* to see again from high school...he was pretty fun. IRL, I saw him again after high school in 1981 standing in line to get Andy Warhol's signature when Andy visited CSU. So, back to the dream. Steve and I and some other people were talking, and I was looking at a magazine that had some ad in it for some designer clothes. The people modeling the clothes looked like statues or mannequins because they were all grey, like marble. I looked closer, and realized one of the persons in the ad was this guy I've had a crush on, to various extents, since 1985. Ironically, his name is also Steve (which isn't his real name either, but the real names of the two "Steves" is the same...make sense?) I look again at the ad and realize my crush Steve is replicated for all the models in the ad. I tell gay Steve that I have had a crush on the guy in the ad for a long time, dating back from when I was in Fort Collins. Then I say, "but you're from Fort Collins, aren't you?" Then our conversation turns to Fort Collins as if it is sort of a forbidden topic that no one wants to discuss.