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Saturday, October 4, 2003

Oh, here's another reap what you sow thing.

Tiger Mauls Roy.

Now I'm not PETA activist, I eat meat, and I own pets. But there's something disturbing about these men and what they do with wild animals, these Liberace circus boys. They evoke that visceral reaction in me, the grossout response. I find them highly disturbing. And that whole circus thing, training wild animals and all. It was just a matter of time before one of their "trained" tigers got its revenge.

Posted by Ann on 10/04/03@12:51 PM CST ..::Link::..

Weird psychic thing.

We were going to get together with Tim today because he was dog sitting this weekend and wanted us to meet a friendly pit bull. He was going to call us last night, but he never did, which is probably why I had that dream last night. But what I didn't know was why I dreamt the other symbolism with him looking like he just got out of bed with long grey hair, and why he was home when he wasn't supposed to be. So I decided to call him this morning, knowing that he wouldn't be home because he was dog sitting instead. I was, as in the dream, getting ready to leave a message on his phone, but he answered! Turns out he was sick the past couple of days, so the pit bull had to go to a doggie motel instead. That explains why in my dream he looked like he just got out of bed...he was sick!

I forgot to tell him about the fat woman who said weird things while she used the bathroom. I have no idea where that fits into reality.

Posted by Ann on 10/04/03@10:58 AM CST ..::Link::..

It's Just a Perfect Day

I do not like to take pleasure in other people's pain. When I hear about bad things happening to good--or even neutral--people, I feel bad myself. But I admit a guilty pleasure...I do take pleasure, perverse pleasure, when I hear the sky is falling down upon *some* people. Like those nights in my favorite TV show ever, Twin Peaks, when *everything* happens to one character all at once? Ben Horne is arrested for the murder of Laura Palmer and is set up by Katherine Martell as well as betrayed by unscrupulous business partners in his north-of-the border brothell? Why do these things happen all at once? I've had my share of the world collapsing all around me all at once. Everyone does. And it always feels undeserved. But there's something very comforting to know that sometimes karma does come around to bite people in the ass...hard.

Too bad, Rush. When they put you in the methadone clinic (yes, I heard *methadone* is used as a treatment for painkiller addiction because painkillers are opiate-based), you'll have to deal with those people who you have called "dope smoking maggot infested hippies." Maybe you shouldn't have been so hard on people with dependency problems, hmmm?

Under normal situations, it would be unfortunate, not tragic, just unfortunate. But under the conditions at hand, his history of defamatory name-calling of those on the left, of those who do not wear neckties that strangle out any common sense or humanity, not to mention brain cells, completely cancels out any sort of compassion or pity I would feel for someone in the same situation.

Instead, I'm chuckling. Karma bit him in the ass. What is unfortunate, however, is that his ass is so fat and he is so thickheaded, he will hardly feel the sting of karma's sharp teeth. And that's a pity.

"You're gonna reap just what you sow."
-Lou Reed, Perfect Day

Posted by Ann on 10/04/03@09:18 AM CST ..::Link::..

Pink Floyd Concert, Parasitic Bunny, and Tim's Weird Friend DREAM

Stan and I were going to a concert at the Barrymore, which I think was supposed to be a Pink Floyd concert. It was strange, because it was at The Barrymore! Seats what, 2000 tops? And it wasn't even crowded when we got there, maybe 20-30 people! It was sort of as if it was a high school auditorium or movie theatre, people were spread around the threatre more or less, not crammed up close like they do at concerts. Everyone was pretty casual about it. But whenever we tried to get a good seat, some snippy high school-age bitch would say it was taken and glare at us. We decided to go right down front, but were sort of on the side with not too good a few. Stan was standing on his seat, and some security guards came around to make sure that he was "lined up" correctly. I was thinking I was going to be disappointed by the show because they were old and Roger wasn't even a part of it anymore. I woke up before the concert.

Stan and I had a bunny. Stan was grooming it and found a weird thing sticking out of its skin, so he pulled it and it was an earthworm about 10 inches long. It freaked the hell out of me. Poor parasitic bunny.

I was supposed to get together with Tim, but couldn't remember his number to call him. I kept getting "blank" numbers where there was no ringing, nothing. Or I'd realize I'd dialed a wrong number and I'd hang up. Then I decided I'd go over to his condo and call him from there. I had no idea what I was thinking. I knew he wasn't home this weekend, but maybe I'd reach him better that way? Whatever. So I'm dialing his number at his place and it sounds like someone answers, but I suspect it's just the answerphone, so I say something, and then it sounds like someone breathes. As I'm leaving a message, I see Tim walk into the living room (this place looks absolutely nothing like his real place, BTW, it's really old and convoluted and yellow). It looks like he just got out of bed, his hair is long-ish and grey. He said that his plans fell through this weekend. There was a bunch of people in other rooms of his place and they were having a party or something. People were talking about strange things like personality disorders. There was one large woman there who was about 45 (although she looked much older than just a few years older than me) and very fat, maybe 250 lbs? She had very blonde hair, almost white...platinum, average length....not to her shoulders nor shortshort....just very typically Wisconsin looking. She was about Stan's height, maybe, but I'm not sure. She was saying that when she went to the bathroom and had a bowel movement, she did/said strange things, and she was wondering if anyone wanted to see what she was talking about? People were hesitant, and she persuaded them to take a look. I really didn't want to see a fat woman saying strange things as she shat, but I went along anyway just to be polite. But I couldn't find the bathroom, the condo/apartment was so weird the way it was layed out that navigating it was just so strange. Probably just as well, it would be a weird image to dream watching something like that. Weird how dreams put up their own roadblocks to protect you from things you are not meant to view. Then later, I remember a bunch of the people were standing outside. I saw Tim down the street, but he was standing with another man who I supposedly "knew" who was also tall, and a twin, and a Gemini. Tim's doppelganger, perhaps?

Posted by Ann on 10/04/03@08:27 AM CST ..::Link::..

Friday, October 3, 2003

Plant DREAM

Stan was severing a large, new-growth leaf from a large dieffenbachia-type plant just because it was growing over a younger dieffenbachia in the same pot. It was such a beautiful leaf, varriegated, but not varriegated in the way dieffenbachias are, this was more like the way my pothos or philodendrons or one of my marantas are variegated. I yelled at him, "Stan stop doing that" and woke him and myself up.

Posted by Ann on 10/03/03@08:12 AM CST ..::Link::..

Thursday, October 2, 2003

Another death dream.

In the dream I had I was at my Grandmother Kiplinger's house, and there were lots of other people around. Eventually there was a rain storm followed by a tornado. I went outside to tell my younger cousins from California that a tornado was coming. I ended up taking shelter underneath a rose bush. My Grandfather grew hundreds of roses. The tornado passed and everyone was gone, except a female child whom I didn't recognize, but she said we were related.

Her parents had died, and as it seemed so had everyone else except us. We needed to travel somewhere else because the house was gone and since I was her only surviving relative I had to find someplace for her to live.

We ended up driving in a large white pickup truck in a snow storm. We were passing all the other cars on the road because we had the only vehicle that could handle the snow. (The large white pickup was old and had rear wheel drive, so I can't imagine that it would have been able to preform as well in waking life as it did in the dream.) This is where the dream ended with us driving an old white pickup in the snow and at night.

Posted by Stan on 10/02/03@08:13 PM CST ..::Link::..

Our New Cyborgs

I am finding out lately that people are getting the hint that stealing bandwidth is bad. See, this is something I struggled with the first time I was on the internet. I didn't understand...bandwidth...it's all one internet...I save server space by linking to someone else's file (let me clarify this...the files were mine: graphics I made for them that they stored on their server or free "Geocities space" that I displayed in my gallery). I was told, not alltogether politely, however, that this was wrong and I was robbing the bandwidth of those I linked to. At the time I thought, hey, if you can afford to have your own server, you must be pretty well off and could afford to spare the bandwidth. Obviously, this was before I could afford my own domain and my own hosting, of course. Not that I can still afford it the way things have been going. But it was a technical issue. I had to grasp the technical concepts which were foreign to me. Once I grasped them, I then understood why it was wrong to link to others' images. (Even if they're you're own images on their server)

What I came into the game knowing was that ripping off people's work and passing it off as your own was wrong. I mean, this is common sense, isn't it? There's no learning about servers and bandwidth and and all that technical jargon...this is an innate sense of right and wrong, of ethics. And why would I want to rip off someone else's design? I was perfectly capable of making my own.

So this is what puzzles me. I'm finding that although the word is getting out and people are understanding that stealing bandwidth is bad, m'kay, they still don't get it that ripping off other people's designs, layout and art is bad. This is all backwards, just backwards.

It's as if a new breed of humans has been unleashed on this earth with an innate sense of understanding the technical aspect of the internet before they understand the human aspect of the internet. Wow. We are becoming a species of robots, aren't we?

Gone will be the days when computers are taught in class. We will be born into this earth pre-wired infants, no setup required, just plug 'n' play, yet devoid of human emotions, feelings and empathy.

Posted by Ann on 10/02/03@09:59 AM CST ..::Link::..

Wednesday, October 1, 2003

I should've posted this on the 25th of September...

...but I had some bad crap happen which stopped me from continuing on in my train of thought. So I'll post it now, even though it doesn't make much sense or have much connection to anything now:

I think I know where that dream I had last night stemmed from, at least partially. Last night Stan and I went to East High to hear a neighborhood presentation about the plans to develop the former Rayovac property down the block. Entering East High was rather strange. I have a phobia of high schools, even ones that weren't my own. I even dream about ones that I've never entered before, and it was rather strange because in an odd way, that dream from earlier this summer was similar to the way East High was, except in the dream it was much more elaborate with luxurious carpeting and wallpaper--East High's interior was basically yellow and purple painted bricks--ironic since that was the colors of my own high school. But as far as the architecture, the way the floors were all at different levels, it was very similar. This was the first time I've been in East High.

The presentation had changed from the Cafeteria to the Auditorium, and as we entered, a woman was putting up flyers on the doors telling where the neighborhood meeting was to be held. Having no idea where anything was in the building, I was looking around quite lost. A clustered group of people looked like they might be there for the meeting, so I looked at them to see if they were discussing Rayovac or Schenks Atwood Neighborhood, but I think they were just teachers. A girl was with them who was probably a student there and she staaaaared at me. This is the reason I hate going into places like this...people automatically think I'm a student. I look younger than my actual age and I refuse to wear middle-aged woman clothes. People are stupid. And as Stan was walking in the general direction of the auditorium, a rent-a-cop guy asked him what he was looking for, as if he thought he was a drug dealer looking for customers or something. Didn't someone tell him there was a neighborhood meeting that night, and there will be people who *aren't high school students* entering the building? This is why I hate going into high schools. The whole system is run by idiots, for idiots.

Yellow and gold are such odd colors for a high school team, but odder than the colors are the mascots. East's High's mascott is...get this...The Purgolders. What the hell is a purgolder? What the hell is it? I Google it. All I get are a bunch of surnames. I figure out the meaning on my own. It's a hybrid contraction of Purple and Gold. The colors. Ha ha. Purgold. Clever. Not. This is where I would normally put a link to the picture of the school--it is quite interesting architecturally, and it is old, which I like.

(enter bad crap, train of thought derails, concentration is lost in the wreckage)

Posted by Ann on 10/01/03@12:15 PM CST ..::Link::..

Digital Media and Device DREAM

Stan bought me a bunch of...DVDs? CDs? Laserdisks? LPs? They were 12" and in thick boxes, like 1" thick. They weren't really usable if they were vinyl LPS, and they weren't playable if they were Laserdisks. And some of the titles (not that I can recall what they were) didn't impress me either, I mean, they weren't something I'd spend big money on, and I'm sure these were quite expensive. I asked Stan about it, and he said they were DVDs or CDs but that they just came in 12" cases. But doesn't that defeat the whole point of the COMPACT in Compact Disk?

I was also looking at my cellphone. I plugged it in to charge it, but then unplugged it immediately, but then it showed no charge whatsoever. Also, there were strange messages on the phone, like I was in a chatroom with people having moronic monosyllabic conversations.

Posted by Ann on 10/01/03@12:08 PM CST ..::Link::..

Tuesday, September 30, 2003

DREAM: Stan Waters

Stan, I hope you don't hate me over this dream.

I was staring at a man. He was literally a visual hybrid of Stan, and Roger Waters circa the early 70s. He was gorgeous, and I was touching his face and telling him he was beautiful. He kept saying he wasn't, but I was trying to convince him that he was.

Posted by Ann on 09/30/03@09:06 AM CST ..::Link::..

Monday, September 29, 2003

Confusing Denver DREAM

A confusing dream. Stan was living in Fort Collins, and for some reason, I wasn't there; I was flying in from Wisconsin. I was supposed to meet him at the Rainbow Music Hall for some reason. I got off the plane, and got into my old Monza. I drove away from the airport and realized I had no idea where I was going. The traffic was really busy and I heard sirens. I pulled off on some exit, and asked a guy in the car next to me where I was. Then it was as if I was in some lobby of the Natural History museum in Denver. I was looking at a map, trying to figure out where to go. I was really tired, and thought maybe I should drive to Fort Collins, but didn't know if I would make it there before Stan got off of work and left for Denver. I was starving, and only had a few dollars on me. I was thinking of calling Stan, but didn't want to waste anymore time.

Also, something about looking at pictures of people; portraits. Don't know if I did them or what. And something about exacto blades and arranging white paper bricks with orange "mortar."

Posted by Ann on 09/29/03@11:22 AM CST ..::Link::..

Sunday, September 28, 2003

DREAM with stupid jock guy

I can't remember the whys and wheres of this dream, but all I can recall is being in a cubicle like the lower part of a bunk bed, but it was more enclosed. There were a bunch of people milling around me, and I felt I had found a place of refuge from them, but for some reason some dork guy (average/tall, average weight but prone to heaviness, built sort of like a college football player but more like a businessman, short/average blond hair, small nose...late 20s/early 30s, very Colorado 1980s-ish) reaches/leans into my cubicle. I clear my throat to let him know that I am there. He says that he needs to get something and leans right across me to grab it, whatever "it" is. I found his actions very rude, and I could feel his beard stubble brush against my face. He was THAT close. So I decided to blow on him. He stopped what he was doing, like he was angry, and I was afraid he was going to lash out violently at me. I forgot what happened next.

Posted by Ann on 09/28/03@10:27 AM CST ..::Link::..
By Ann @ 20:55 PM CST:10:20:03 ..::Link::..