Saturday, May 25, 2002
"Get me Pootie-Poot on the phone."
Is it just me, or does someone smell some slash fiction cooking here?
"Pootie...it's been so long since I looked into your eyes, and felt your soul."
"Booshie...I been changed man seence I taste your beeg Texas beefsteak and sleep in beeg Texas keeng-size bed."
Bleah...spit...gag. Perish the thought.
Posted by Ann on 05/25/02@04:16 PM CST ..::Link::..
Thursday, May 23, 2002
DREAMS-Must have been the excessive amounts of Nuprin I've been taking
Night before last: I kept having dreams that were just sillly snippets and I kept waking up giggling. I can only remember a few of these dreams. One was I was looking at a magazine and Stan was in a picture on a page of it. If I looked at the picture, he would look back at me. I made a face at him and the picture smiled. I made another face at him, and the picture made a face back at me. Then I put my mouth up to the picture like I was going to swallow it, and I could hear him go "aaaagh!" like he was going to be swallowed. Weird. I was going to have my picture taken by some professional studio for a driver's license, as supposedly (in the dream) drivers licenses could be a picture of the owner's choosing. They had me sit down in a Cleopatra reclining style pose, and they brought in a large Great Dane dog so that I would smile for the camera. I remember that they took one picture, but it turned out very yellow so they had to try another shot. Then Tim came in with another dog which was like a cross between a Golden Retriever and a Rottweiler, but it was very vicious and growled at Tim. I was afraid it would attack his face. Then I was talking to some guy who was supposedly Iggy Pop, but I don't think it was him as they guy was younger than me even. He had just gotten plastic surgery and he looked very weird. He was asking me what I thought of the surgery results, as he didn't like it himself, and I had to agree with him that it looked awful. They made his nose huge so that it looked like he was in a fishlens camera, and they put collagen implants in his lips and did some weird structuring with his jawline.
Last night: I was in an art class at a university. I remember I had gone to the first class, and then it was the next day and I was going to the second class. I remember one of the professors teaching it was one of my printmaking teachers from CSU. I could tell he was having an argument with his gay lover fellow art professor in the office adjacent to the classroom. I can't remember that we students were doing anything in particular except just sitting at tables. Then we all went outside for some reason. It was at night and it was raining. We were standing in this very strange alcove entry that was massive and constructed of tile, like a large shower room from the early part of the last century. Although it was a covered area, I could feel rain coming down. Then someone pointed out that rain was coming through one of the light fixtures. We were all afraid that there would be a fire and started clearing out of the building. Then I remembered that my cat Caligula was still upstairs in the art rooms. I was worried.
Posted by Ann on 05/23/02@08:39 AM CST ..::Link::..
Tuesday, May 21, 2002
DREAM-Stop Giving Us Gay Flag and Football Team Colored Patio Furniture Already!
Weird dream that we got a patio set (pastel rainbow canvas umbrella, table, and canvas directors chairs) from either friends or family...I forgot which. I was stacking them on the concrete area behind my parent's house, (which was supposed to be my house) and noticed that there was also a darker rainbow-colored (gay flag colors) patio set, plus a bunch of green and yellow canvas (Packer colored) directors chairs, plus some red and white (Badger colored) directors chairs. I remarked that we have enough patio sets and chairs to have a family reunion. What the heck were we going to do with all that stuff? IRL we don't even have a place to put them outside, let alone store them inside. Fortunately, the dream took place in my parents yard, but it's not like something they'd like either. I also dreamt that Stan's adopted dad was still alive and was walking! I also dreamt that his dad's brothers were alive too. Weird. IRL, Stan's mom is out visiting right now. I better not tell her about this dream lest I upset her. I also dreamt that I was in this old apartment that Stan and I lived in in Colorado...it was the bottom half of a townhouse that was converted to two apartments, but in the dream, we had the upper part too. It looked so familiar, but not familiar in the way I remember the actual place.
Posted by Ann on 05/21/02@09:46 AM CST ..::Link::..
Monday, May 20, 2002
I had submitted my art resume to someone and they had returned it back to me with a bunch of corrections, as if they were grading a term paper. I was looking over the corrections along with some other people who claimed to be artists, most of which were retired hobbiests. I had put certain items in tables with boxed-in rows to highlight them, and one of the women told me never to do that. I looked at her askew and asked her why, and she said it should never be done in a resume. I sized her up and down and evaluated her to be very old fashioned, conventional and prissy, so I decided she mostly wears shoes with buckles, or pumps, hence my statement to her: I told her, "I've been doing desktop publishing more times than you've tied your shoes. And a boxed-in table is perfectly acceptable to add to any piece of print including a resume." She kept disagreeing with me, but she didn't want to hear my point of view, so I followed her into a bathroom explaining it from another standpoint. I was going to explain why the boxed in rows were easier for someone with astigmatism to follow as opposed to reading something without the boxed-in rows or even leaders. I asked her if she had poor eyesight. She was not wearing glasses, but she could have been wearing contacts--I couldn't tell. She replied that she did. I asked her if she had astigmatism. She responded like she didn't even recognize the word, but then said she did have it. I could tell she was lying, and I think I woke up sighing and huffing and puffing in disgust.
Posted by Ann on 05/20/02@09:05 AM CST ..::Link::..
Sunday, May 19, 2002
I've become addicted to this stuff. It's like snack food, but better.
Posted by Ann on 05/19/02@02:47 PM CST ..::Link::..
Empty Nest Syndrome
Yesterday there were only two birds in the nest. I assume that the other two had flown off. The parents kept flying back and forth toward the nest, as if to show the remaining babies, "see, it's easy...just flap your wings and go!" The babies would watch, cocking their heads trying to grasp the concept--it was so cute, like a cartoon. Then they'd stand at the rim of the nest and flap but go nowhere. Today there's only one left. He or she must be lonely. It's sad to see them all go.
Update: Now there are none...I heard a thunk-kerplunk outside and looked in the nest. No baby. I was afraid it flew into a window. I ran downstairs and went outside to see if I could find it anywhere...no luck. I hope it is safe, wherever it is.
Posted by Ann on 05/19/02@09:13 AM CST ..::Link::..
DREAMs-An Offer I Surely Refused
Dream 1. I was privvy to some very important information that was wanted both by the law and by the mafia. I was sitting in a bus that had four seats across like the center aisle on a DC10 I flew on 25+ years ago (I don't know what they're like now...I can't afford planes), but this was a side aisle. I was sitting next to someone, I think it was my mom. I was sitting toward the aisle, leaving one empty aisle seat next to me, she was sitting toward the window. I was approached by this male chauvenist fat detective wearing a light-colored raincoat who sat in the empty aisle seat. He kept saying he wanted to make a deal with me, and I was telling him to get lost, that I'm not talking to anyone. He left. Then I was approached by a couple mafia guys who sat down in the empty aisle seat together, wanting to know the same information. I started acting, and saying melodramatically over and over "I love Michael, I love Michael." (meaning Michael Corleone?) The mafia guys were most confused, which was my objective.
Dream 2. I was going to get a tattoo. I wanted to get a dingbat spiral shape on my big toe. I went to a tattoo parlor and started picking out large blue beads I wanted for my tattoo (?!?). I think the tattoo guy was someone I used to know from Fort Collins, but maybe it was just someone who looked like him. I was trying to draw him a sketch of what I wanted, but was having a hard time drawing the symmetry freehand, so I told him I needed to go home to make it on the computer and get a laser print of it. Then after I left, I thought, "why am I getting a tattoo? I don't want a tattoo!"