jianantonic: (Seahorse)
Last night I dreamt that I went to a bridge tournament, but couldn't find a partner, so I entered the Olympics instead. I won 5 medals, including 2 individual golds, all in different disciplines. And then I was like "I have to put this in my livejournal so people know!"

In the same dream, I spent a lot of time talking to refugees about their struggles. They were all being held in a fenced-in area in a park. No symbolism there.

Then the last part of this dream was when my friend Kelly invented a hammock that had a tent on top so you could do the hammock thing but in the rain.

Dreams are weird.

I'd write more about real life, but lately my thoughts have all been dominated by fear and woe surrounding the current state of the government. :/ I have a cute new nephew, though! And a great cat.
jianantonic: (Seahorse)
This dream was SO WEIRD. I mean they all are, but this one felt like an actual story...maybe even a good and interesting and believable one? But maybe that will unravel as I type it out. Here goes:

It took place in a fictional location that was near my parents' house. There was like a shopping center that I needed to frequent for some reason or other, and an old folks' home next to it. Over the course of several days, I made friends with this old guy at the shopping center, who lived in the home nearby. Thanksgiving was coming up, and I invited him to join my family. He declined at first, but I insisted, and then wrote down the information so he could get there. I hadn't told him my name at all yet, but I wrote it down for him with the address and phone number. I remember he had a weird reaction when he saw my name, but whatever.

Thanksgiving rolls around, and I go get my friend from the home. He's acting really uncomfortable, but I figure it's just because he's about to meet 30 of my crazy relatives. I plop him down in the den watching football with a bunch of the guys (Virginia Tech was up 14 to nothing after their first two possessions), and I run out with my mom to take care of some errands. She has to run in somewhere really fast, so I stay in the car to wait for her. While I'm in there, I find this book, and I pick it up and start to read, only to find it's about ME. Kind of.

I learn that my parents had a daughter in 1959 (three years before they actually met, but whatever, dream timeline). She looked just like me except that she had lighter hair, and they named her Margaret, just as my mom had always planned for her daughter. There were actually pictures of her all over our house, but I had always believed they were of me. Meg #1 had a terminal illness, and was in the hospital all the time. One day a pro baseball player was doing his charity thing and making the rounds. My mom and Meg #1 really bonded with this guy, Jim Grant. Turns out Jim Grant is the name of the old guy Meg #2 had brought to Thanksgiving...

Anyway, Mom takes for-fucking-ever on her errand, so I'm able to read really far into the story. Jim really cares for our family and offers to marry Meg #1 (who is like 3 years old, btw) so that we don't have to worry about money anymore. I'm not sure why he can't just GIVE us the money, and it's absolutely NOT a pedophilic situation -- in the dream it's just what he has to do to get Meg #1 the top notch care and help the family. It's all very much on the up and up.

But the media catches wind of this marriage between a celebrity baseball player and a toddler, and makes it a THING. And Hillary Clinton ends up prosecuting Jim for *crimes.* He's found guilty and his career is ruined and he has anger issues and drug problems and sort of exits the story at that point. Meg #1 eventually dies, and the family is very sad. There are photographs of the family mourning, and I realize that all of my cousins and aunts and uncles have been privy to this secret my (Meg #2) whole life, keeping it from me that Meg #1 ever existed. All those photos that I thought were my baby pictures are actually her. I examine them more closely now and see the obvious differences -- things I always previously assumed I'd just grown out of. Mom gets back to the car at this point in the story and I start grilling her. She tells the story of hospitals and tragedy, and explains why she was so uncomfortable with me bringing Jim to our Thanksgiving.

I go back and talk to Jim, and explain that I've just learned the whole story, and he explains that when he saw me, he saw her in me, and he felt this weird combination of love and resentment, because he cared very much for Meg #1 and our family, but that's what ruined his career/life when he was young and popular and wealthy. He had lost touch with my family and never knew when Meg #1 died, and so he was shocked when he learned that my name was Meg Massie and of course I looked the same, but I was too young, and Meg #1 had a terminal illness in the 60's, so...?

The dream sort of fizzled out here, at the point where everyone is putting all the pieces together. But I remember in my conversation with my mom about the legal case that followed the marriage (or plans to marry, I guess), with Hillary Clinton prosecuting, that it all made sense to me then why my parents hate her so much. But I understood why she'd be opposed to a grown man marrying a 3-year-old, and I still loved her and was going to vote for her. Apparently the timeline in my dream was such that election day would come after Thanksgiving.

Anyway, the end...
jianantonic: (Seahorse)
As I've recently reported, things are pretty great these days.

Even the recurring dreams about McKenzie that have haunted me for over a year now seem to have stopped, or at least significantly decreased in frequency.

...But they've been replaced by dreams that I'm back in a really bad relationship with a different ex, and have centered on how unhappy I am to be in that circumstance, and how to plan my delicate extraction from the undesirable situation. Not as stressful or unfun as the McKenzie dreams, but god damn, psyche, can't you just let me dream about rainbows and unicorns and eating cake? COME ON.

Oh, that's the other shitty thing about my dreams. I keep getting offered food I LOVE, but shouldn't eat, because weight watchers. In my dreams. So I refuse the deliciousness. Because I'm behaving. In my stupid fucking dreams. Man, if I could dream about eating all the chocolate, instead of refusing all the chocolate, maybe I could wake up feeling a little more satisfied/less cravey. Jesus.

I'm really tired and I'm going back to sleep now, but goddammit, if I dream of something shitty, I'm going to have to ask at my doctor's office about lobotomy possibilities.
jianantonic: (Seahorse)
I have a lot of dreams about McKenzie. The themes have shifted some over the months. At first, they were all about him abandoning me in different ways. Lately they've been more about us getting back together...sort of...only he pulls back when it starts to feel real. So I guess still abandonment-ish, but less mean than the first go-round.

Last night I dreamt that McKenzie presented me with our wedding rings again...asked me to be his wife again. And I was thrilled and I said yes.

And then I got to thinking about it and nearly went crazy with grief. (All in my dream, still.) I wanted to be with Toby. I wanted to talk to Emily about it, but all she wanted to do was go sledding. (Would it be a dream without some element of wtf?) But what it boiled down to was that I was going to end up telling McKenzie no, I can't be your wife again, I'm with Toby now.

Other relationships have never before factored into my dreams about McKenzie. They always take place in an imaginary space in time where we aren't yet divorced, but aren't together anymore. Last night was the first time my dream took place in the present (minus the snow on the ground). And I was decidedly in Camp Toby. The dream was stressful as hell, but I woke up and felt awesome. I'm with who I want to be with. There are no obstacles. I've got this.

I still miss McKenzie to pieces, and in a perfect world, we never would have divorced. Maybe in a perfect world, he and I could be happily polyamorous and Toby could be in that picture, too. But I don't know if there are enough hours in the day for me to share all I would want to share with the both of them.

Anyway. I want Toby. I'm with Toby. I'm really, really happy about that.
jianantonic: (Seahorse)
I had some weird-as-fuck dreams last night. The main one revolved around Fuller House. I have not watched this Full House reboot -- I'm a little afraid that it will be terrible and I'll hate it. I also kind of hate Candace Cameron because she and her brother are all about some really toxic religious bullshit, and I'd rather just remember DJ as DJ, you know? Anyway that doesn't matter. In my dream, I watched the show.

Actually, my dream started with reading a review that one of my other LJ friends had written about the show, which stated that it was kind of terrible, but also obvious that the network (lol, netflix) had thrown their whole budget into the show to make it a success. So in my dream, this is a big budget show, with sprawling sets and lots of marquee cameos from actors that have nothing to do with anything -- Jeff Goldblum is the main one I remember.

Anyway the dream/show started by explaining how DJ became a single mother. DJ, Stephanie, Kimmy, and DJ's husband are all cheerleaders for a professional ice hockey team. The show features several sequences of them doing fancy professional cheerleading stunts, but because those actors are not actually gymnasts or dancers, the footage was just stock footage of cheerleaders with their heads edited on (very badly). It was hilariously awful. But anyway one day Mr. DJ doesn't show up to work. There's an earthquake, and we find out he'd been in the subway and trapped underground by the quake. Later in that episode he's confirmed dead and it's a real downer.

Then there are some shots of DJ doing really pornographic things in her cheerleader uniform, which I can only imagine are inserted into the show for some sex appeal. Anyway.

And that was pretty much the last I saw of the Tanners in this "episode." It moved on to other parts of the set, and I guess they were still vaguely involved, but at this point, I'm in the set. I know it's just TV, and I start to realize I'm dreaming, also. Then there are all these fight scenes, and I'm caught in the middle. And I keep getting hurt. I "wake up" from my dream in a lot of pain, and I show Toby scratches all over my arms, telling him they came from this dream and it's so fucked up. I "go back to sleep" and I can't escape these fucking fights. It HURTS. I was seriously in pain and really scared, because I knew I was dreaming but I couldn't make it stop. Eventually I did wake up for real, and I didn't have any real injuries, but the dream went on for quite a while and it was really painful.

So...that was weird. I'd like my night back, please.
jianantonic: (Seahorse)
I've probably mentioned the recurring dreams I have about McKenzie -- not the exact same dream every night, but the situation is the same. We're together, kind of, but he's pulling away, or running away, or straight up deserting me. And it's devastating. It doesn't take a phsychologist to work out what these dreams mean. They suck and I hate them.

Then last night, I had a different one. McKenzie wasn't the protagonist -- Toby was. And he wasn't intentionally pulling away from me -- we just got separated in a crowd and the dream was about stressfully trying to reunite. Whenever I'm dreaming of a problem that could be easily fixed with cell phones (texting, calling, even dialing 911), in the dream, my fingers just don't work with the phone at all. I can never push the right buttons and it's just wasted effort. So that's what was going on in this dream. I was separated from Toby, and wanted to find him again, but couldn't because my hands wouldn't work.

It wasn't a good dream, but I feel good about the fact that it was about Toby this time. I still very much experience the feelings that haunt my McKenzie dreams, but maybe just maybe this is a twisted sign of some healing? Maybe?
jianantonic: (Seahorse)
I still dream about McKenzie more nights than not, but whenever I'm in Charlottesville, those dreams are way more intensely painful. They usually exist in a fictional time-space where our marriage was failing but not over, and I'm trying desperately to save it while he is cold and mean. That's not how it went in reality, though the real experience was hard enough. And it'd be just fucking great if I could stop having these awful dreams now. Please.
jianantonic: (Seahorse)
I had a dream that I was hosting a house concert at a vacation rental house, and Pearl Jam came to play. When I met Eddie Vedder, the handshake was kind of awkward so he asked for a redo and then just picked me up and made out with me as a means of saying hello. And then LeBron James came and sat next to me in the audience for the show.

Revelers ended up getting out of hand and setting the house on fire, and I was in all kinds of trouble with the owners, but LeBron was gonna have his people call their people and handle the situation. It's good to have friends in high places.
jianantonic: (Seahorse)
Last night I had a dream that I was cuddling with Nicolas Batum, the French small forward who starts for the Trailblazers. And Batum kept referring to our cuddling as "lovemaking." That was weird. I'm a big fan, but I've never been particularly attracted to him. Guess I was just really hot for cuddles last night. (I may have gone to bed under the influence...)


I'm feeling good about things. Z and I had a difficult counseling session last night, but even though it was hard, it wasn't contentious and whereas in the past we've often been distant from one another after such discussions, we ended the session last night with kindness and closeness, and then went out for froyo and fart jokes. Not that we need to make an occasion of fart jokes -- they're part of our daily interactions, for sure -- but the point is that even though we're stretching and testing our emotions, we're still in a generally positive, normal place in our dynamic. It feels healthy and reassuring -- so many things have been so scary to address, because our current happy dynamic seems so fragile, but I'm gaining confidence each day. I'm really feeling healthier, both individually and in my marriage, and I don't want to take that for granted at all. It's been work. I continue to work. And it feels like this work is paying divdends. So, you know, yay.
jianantonic: (Seahorse)
I haven't been getting enough sleep this week, and the sleep I got last night was anything but restful. You see, I had the most unsettling dream I can remember having in my life. It was all kinds of uncomfortable, but also really funny, so I'll share.

I was staying at a resort with my whole family, and I was responsible for getting the girls to sleep at night. For a combination of reasons, the three of them bounced off the walls well into the next morning, and it was sun-up by the time I actually got to sleep. But it didn't last long, because nature's call woke me up. I groggily got out of bed and went to the nearest bathroom. I sat down and began the business of loaf-pinching when I realized I wasn't in a bathroom. I was in a den, and I was sitting not on a toilet but on a step stool. However, I was already past the point of no return. I decided the best course of action was to finish what I'd started and clean up after. But when it came time to clean up, I had nothing to use, since I wasn't actually in a bathroom. This is where the dream -- remember, this is a dream, not an account of something that actually happened -- took a turn toward even more uncomfortable territory.

I had to dispose of this...situation. I couldn't find a trash can anywhere. I was wearing pajama pants but no top, but I was panicking because people in the house were starting to wake up and I was about to get busted holding a pile of my own turds. So I ran outside looking for a place to dispose of my unsavory loot. I kept seeing things that looked like trash cans, but I would walk closer and they'd just be statues or some other non-trash can thing. The resort units basically took up all the space, so there were no bushes or woods where I could discretely get rid of my problem...so I just kept walking, topless, holding a paper bag of my own poo (I don't know where I got the bag, but at least I wasn't just carrying a pile of shit barehanded), through a resort village, looking for a trash can. People were coming outside and seeing me, and I tried to play it off as normal, but no one was buying it. The resort seemed to be populated exclusively by frat boys who were all very interested in why I was topless. I scurried through the area as quickly as I could, and eventually made my way to the pool area. Again, I had a mirage of a trash can, so I hustled down onto the deserted pool deck to make my deposit and then run back to my room and pretend like nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Only, it wasn't a trash can. Foiled again! Frustrated and at the end of my rope, I just tossed the shit into the sparkling pool and split, running like hell, holding my bare chest, and hoping no one would run forensic tests on the pool poo and trace it back to me and send me to prison for life. I was sure that every person who saw me knew exactly what I'd been up to. What other explanation is there for a topless woman running around a resort in PJ bottoms at dawn? God, it was so obvious, it was written all over my face...how could anyone NOT figure it out?

I was mortified, but did my best to hold my head high and act natural while I made my way back behind the closed doors of my own room.


So. That was the most uncomfortable I've been in a long time. There are a lot of unanswered questions in this dream, obviously -- how can a grown human person get 3/4 of the way through a deuce before she realizes she's not actually on a toilet? Why was there no way of disposing said deuce in the toilet after the fact? Mysteries of the universe. Suffice it to say, I've rarely been more relieved to have my alarm snap me out of dreamland, even though I got at best 5 hours of sleep last night and could really use another 5 or more before I feel like a person again...but all I have to do is get through this day, then I have a massage after work and can happily crash when I get home in the early evening. Just a handful of hours from now...
jianantonic: (Seahorse)
This week has been a week of other people falling down on the job and leaving me to clean up their bullshit. I've decided I'm not prioritizing that right now. LJ it is! Normally, Friday is my scramble-to-get-everything-wrapped-up day at the office, since I usually put off the more time-consuming tasks until the end of the week, but since I'm working Monday and Tuesday next week, I feel no such pressure.

I am going to have a fantastic fucking weekend. Actually, probably no fucking. I'm hosting my cousin for the weekend, after all. Virginia =/= West Virginia.

Do people from states that aren't Virginia (or directly bordering WV) make WV jokes? I feel like it's one of the more nationwide prejudices, but my viewpoint is admittedly biased. It's funny how WV ended up with the rap for being the backwoods hicks, when the only reason they became a separate state in the first place was that they were way more progressive than Virginia. Hell, they're still at the cutting edge of 1860's politics.

I had the weirdest fucking dreams last night, and I'm sad that I can only vaguely remember one of them, because when I first stirred from it, I was like "OMG I HAVE TO BLOG ABOUT THIS LOLOLOL." What I do remember is that people around me were trying to write erotic fanfic based on something completely not erotic. Like a textbook or something. I wish I could remember because I know it was hilarious. At least it felt hilarious. You know how you have dreams and it's a great idea or just really amusing and then you start to tell the story out loud and realize it makes no sense or is totally weak? I guess that could be the case here. Anyway.

My other dream, which I do remember, is that this guy was trying to impress me with things that he knows. He gave me a written list of these things, the first of which was that he was one of the only people in the world who knew how to correctly graph a parabola. But the graph didn't make sense. I spent part of the dream trying to make sense of it, and then another part of the dream logicking him about why he was wrong. I did a fucking math proof in my sleep. Not a real one, but still.
jianantonic: (Seahorse)
WT, Rachel, Frankie, and Bess are at my parents' house for the week. I'll see them all on Sunday when I return from Falcon Ridge, but I'm jealous that they're there now and I'm not. Bess was playing with Mom's phone and accidentally called me this morning. We "talked" for a bit. She actually does talk, and I can kind of understand some of it. She said "bye Meg!" when we were done. I'm not sure she really knows who Meg is, but she's definitely to the point where she's old enough to start remembering people outside her nuclear family -- I think Lucy was about a year and a half old when she started connecting names and faces to the extended family. Frankie was somewhere around that point, too. But I haven't actually been with Bess since December, so for now she probably just knows she was talking to Meg because my mom said so. She accidentally dials me all the time from WT's phone, too, though. Maybe she can read and operate a smart phone and all she wants is to talk to her aunt.

I had a dream last night that I was hanging out with all three girls, and we were just snuggled up together in bed, and I was bawling uncontrollably because I love them so much. They would say or do sweet things and I would just weep more and more. I am a sentimental crier, so it's not too far-fetched that this could happen, but it was a little extreme. But that's how I feel about these girls. I love them so much I cry happy tears in my sleep just because I'm so thrilled to be their aunt. I love this job.
jianantonic: (Seahorse)
One thing I love about Portland is the weather. It cracks me up when people in the southeast are all "how can you stand all that rain?" First of all, it's not as rainy as people think, and second of all, how can YOU stand all that heat and humidity? Seriously, yuck. I mean, I grew up in it so I was used to it, but when I moved away I realized how much nicer outside can feel. Outside is awesome! Here, anyway.

That said, the last few days have been brutally hot. In the 90's...no humidity, thankfully, but 95 degrees is still uncomfortable enough. Our house has A/C, but it's not particularly effective. The upstairs is always at least 20 degrees warmer than the downstairs (true all year round), and our bedroom has these 15' high ceilings and big windows and one teeny tiny A/C vent that just doesn't get the job done. Heat makes me lethargic, but it was too uncomfortable to sleep until I pulled an ice pack out of the fridge this afternoon. I put it on my stomach and enjoyed one of the longest naps of my life. Which is why I'm awake now at 1am, but I don't mind terribly because it's comfortable in here now with the sun down and the windows open and our fan going full blast. I went out to run some errands when I woke up from my nap (at 9pm, heh), and went to Target to get another fan. No dice. Apparently I'm not the only uncomfortably hot person in Beaverton. Air conditioning isn't standard at all here, because like I mentioned before, the weather is generally pretty fucking beautiful and it's just not a necessity. But on days like this, it's nice to have. I shudder to think how awful it would be here without ours going, even though it does underperform.

I had an awesome dream last night where I was skydiving, but the only part I dreamed about was the freefall part. I was just flipping and twisting and doing all sorts of air-acrobatics, and it felt amazing. I love dreams where you can feel the sensations you're dreaming about. I also love that I got to dream about the awesome part of skydiving without the scary parts of actually jumping, figuring out how to land, and all that nerve-wracking stuff. I was just flipping at high speed, and it was awesome.

I've always been someone who enjoys motion, particularly the kinds of movement that tend to make others sick. I love being dizzy (exception: drunk dizzy is scary as fuck and I do not like it), roller coasters, free falls, spinning and jumping and bouncing and taking that bump on Earlysville Road at 80mph...I hope I never grow out of this.
jianantonic: (Seahorse)
I had a very vivid dream last night that Marma was the daytime caretaker for my nieces.  I would come home from work each day and she'd be playing with them, and then I would take over so she could rest.  My brother and Rachel weren't *out* of the picture, they just weren't really in this dream.  It made sense in my sleep.

Of course, Marma died in 1998, and my first niece was born in 2004, so she never has met them.  But the pictures in my dream of them all playing together are pseudo-memories worth cherishing.  Marma loved her grandchildren and great-grandchildren so much, and I know she would take great pride in these three girls.  I don't know what I believe regarding souls and afterlife, but I do believe that in a very real and more-than-symbolic way that Marma is a part of me and our family still.  I want to believe I'll have real interactions with her again one day.  I want to believe that she will know the grandchildren that came after she passed.  It was a very sweet dream.
jianantonic: (Default)
I had this dream last night where I was playing against a local expert, and she pulled off an amazing defensive play against me.  It was like this rare coup and it had a name, but I'd never heard of it.  I was so impressed that I wrote up the hand for a bridge article.  When I woke up, I wondered if my sleeping brain had discovered some amazing expert play that I didn't know I was capable of, so I went back over the hand in my head.  The maneuver was called "Hail to the queen until her head falls off."  In the dream, this was a really clever name.  Awake?  Not so much.  But even less clever was the defensive line.  When you have QJT... in a suit, and declarer has AK..., the brilliant play is to lead the Q and then the J, setting up your T and possibly extra length.  STOP THE PRESSES!

(For non bridge players, this is one of the most basic cardplay techniques that exists.  Hardly a breakthrough.)
jianantonic: (Default)
I had a dream last night that I was participating in a unicycle basketball contest -- just shooting baskets while unicycling.  The best line from the dream was definitely:  "Considering the ball and the unicycle and the basket were all invisible, I'd say I did pretty well."


jianantonic: (Default)

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