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   Wednesday, July 31, 2002
Last night I dreamt that Ian and I were in his car. He was driving down a sand dune. The sand collapsed around the car. He drove through it and we survived. We hugged each other and wouldn't let go. Then for some reason, we went back up the dune and drove down it again. This time nothing bad happened. We were safe.

Then I dreamt that my boss had locked someone in a room. She was telling me about it and the guy was yelling to be let out. She ran over and unlocked the door and then grabbed me and we ran into my office. She locked my door and then laughed nervously and said the guy would definitely be coming after her.

There was a lot more to both of those dreams, but I just can't piece it all together. I woke up to the awful sounds of the garbage truck this morning. And then my car alarm. I lay there thinking to myself, "I better get up and turn off my car alarm because when the garbage truck passes by, it's gonna blow." Then BLAM. I jerked out of the bed and ran to my keys and turned the alarm off.

So now I'm at work and kind of tired and cranky. I need to be cheered up. Any suggestions? I'm going to play baseball tonight with some fun people. That should help.




   Tuesday, July 30, 2002
Last night I ate the last of the yummy African Stew that my husband so lovingly prepared for Sundays’ family dinner extravaganza. It was even better than I had remembered. Ian is like the best cook, EVER!!

Then we watched two incredible movies. They were on total opposite ends of the genre spectrum. The first film was titled Bread and Roses. It was a film inspired by the real life "Justice for Janitors" campaign led by immigrant cleaners, mostly women, in LA. The two main female characters in the film demonstrated the best acting I’ve seen in all my years of film watching. I was ashamed that our top money making female actress is Julia Roberts. These two women blew her away. I can’t even look at Julia on screen anymore. All I see are nose and lips. What’s the big deal with her anyway? I have always loved me some Sandra Bullock. I know, I know. But I love her. Twenty-Eight Days, for example. Excellent film. I could really give a good rat’s ass that you all hate that movie and Sandra Bullock. I think I relate to her for some reason. She’s a southern raised girl, like me. And we’re the same age. It’s like I admire her or something. Can’t really explain it. Whoa, I got way off the subject. Bread and Roses, starring Pilar Padilla and Elpidia Carrillo and directed by Ken Loach. Rent it, god dammit!

The second film was Cannibal the Musical by the beloved Trey Parker and Matt Stone of South Park fame. It’s about Alfred Packer, the sole survivor of an ill-fated mining expedition, who tells how his taste for gold was replaced by that of human flesh. A true story, actually. Very silly. We watched it with the drunken commentary. Trey and Matt and some of their friends drank beer, wine, and whiskey and commented on the film. By the end they were all good and sloshed and kept chanting, “Titty bar!” It was so funny. So, rent that too. You will not be disappointed, I promise.




   Monday, July 29, 2002
I was accompanied to the restroom by a co-worker. She is a total Berkeley gray-haired 45 year old. We were in our separate stalls when she blurts out:

Carol: Did you ever have pee races?!
Me: (burst into laughter) NO!
Carol: You didn’t? Maybe it was a catholic school thing. In high school we would race to see who could finish first.
Me: Sounds fun………(snicker, snicker).
Carol: You really never had pee races? (introspective) huh.


Last night I could NOT get to sleep. I watched Sex and the City and then I flipped through the channels searching for anything and nothing. Oh, and btw, Sex and the City still rocks my world. I love that show. I don’t even care that Sarah Jessica Parker is starting to look like a scary witch or that Kim Catrell looks better at 50 then I could ever hope to look EVER! I just love all the open girl talk that’s written for that show. It’s funny because it’s true. Anyway, I could tell that my TV watching was starting to disturb Ians’ sleep. So, I took my book and went into the guestroom.

I’m reading The Corrections by Jonathan Franzen. I have been reading this book for approximately six months. It’s not that the book sucks. On the contrary, it’s fascinating and wonderful. I just can’t seem to fit reading into my schedule. So, I was in the guestroom and I read a big chunk of this book and was starting to fall asleep when I got a piss pain and had to go to the bathroom. I went back to our bedroom and got into bed. Still, I lay there waiting for sleep. “Please, let me sleep.” I begged the darkness.

When I finally slept, I was tortured with sad and scary dreams that I refuse to re-live here for you. I am sick of sad dreams. Through the night I am overcome with fear and panic that I then experience the following day. It’s just not right.

But all is well, because my bestest friend at work is back today and she has already sent me into side-splitting laughter. I will leave you with one of mine and Kris’s early morning conversations.

Kris: You know how my nickname is Piggy?
Me: No?
Kris: Oh, well my nickname is Piggy.
Me: Why?
Kris: Because I eat all the time.
Me: But then you throw up, so shouldn’t it be Piggy…. Puker….. Man…. Woman?
Kris and Tracy: (Burst into laughter)
Kris: You’re right, it should be PiggyPukerManWoman.

I guess you had to be there.





   Friday, July 26, 2002
Last night I dreamt about Snoop Dogg. In reality, I know nothing about this guy and I'm sure I haven't seen him in anything recently except for the movie, Training Day. But still, dreaming about him seems random. In the dream a friend of mine was getting prepared to interview Snoop and she was talking to me about what good friends she and Snoop were. I was very impressed. She asked me to keep an eye out for him while she went to get another slice of pizza. I think we were at Blondie’s on Telegraph Avenue. I was sitting near the door. I saw Snoop and his posse walking down the street. I was waving down my friend but she didn't see me. She was voraciously ripping apart a slice of pepperoni pizza. As Snoop approached, I noticed that he was looking at me with a warm expression. As he walked into Blondie’s, he started talking to me. This is the conversation:

Snoop: Hi Tracy.
Me: (confused) ummm hi?
Snoop: (pointing at my friend): That girl over there is supposed to interview me. I hear she's a bitch.
Me: What? I thought you two were friends.
Snoop: (puzzled) Girl, I don't know what you're talkn' about. You're my only friend here, Tracy.
Me: (in my head, I’m thinking, how the hell does he know ME?)
Snoop: We’re hungry.
Me: I’ll get you guys a couple of pies.
Snoop: I’d rather have pizza. Since we’re at a pizza joint.
Me: (laughing) Pie is the east coast way to say Pizza.
Snoop and Posse: (LAUGH)

Then my friend comes over and starts being friendly with Snoop, and he is clearly turned off. She’s acting more and more nervous. So, I took over the interview. But first I gave the boys their Pie.

I had another dream last night. Not half as good as the Snoop dream, but it also had dialogue that I clearly remember. My friend Mary and I were at her apartment. Mary was dying her own hair and I was just sitting there watching and we were talking. As she was brushing the blood red streaks into her hair we had this short conversation:

Me: Why don’t you let me help you with that?
Mary: Because you fucked my hair up last time. I don’t want you touching me.
Me and Mary: (Burst into laughter)
Mary: (stops laughing and looks like she just smelled something awful)
Me: (stops laughing and realizes that Mary meant the earlier statement)
Mary and Tracy: (silence and discomfort)

That’s all I remember. My friend Mary is super funny and is a ball breaker. You know the type. So she’s always saying mean shit, but NEVER means it. She is also one of the most loveable and loving people that I know. Mary is actually teaching me by her awesome ways, how to lighten up. She kicks ass. I dyed Mary’s hair for her a month ago and I was so afraid that I had ruined it. It looked really good, actually. But I’m sure that’s why I dreamt that. Who knows.

Hurray to tricking my dream-self. I got my dreams back. YAY!



   Thursday, July 25, 2002
So, I left work early yesterday to go to a doctor’s appointment. While I was driving there, I noticed that my passenger side mirror was all pushed into the window. I didn't think that was weird because self-involved people push mirrors in while passing cars all the time. When I arrived at my destination I walked around the car to reset the mirror when I saw the wreckage! Some asshole bashed my car. Hit and run! The *nerve*.

My only hope is that they feel really bad. That's the least they can do. I mean, this is California. You have to have car insurance here. It's the law. So, they would have been covered with their liability insurance. But since they didn't leave a note, *I* have to pay the deductible for my collision coverage. FIVE HUNDRED DOLLARS!!!!! I have the money. It's just that I didn't fuck up, so why do I have to pay! WAHHHH!!!! I feel violated.

And if that wasn't bad enough, my bestest friend at work isn't here today or tomorrow! Why Kris, oh why did you leave me here all alone. Come back before I lose my mind.

I had a really dumb dream last night. I dreamt that I was in a coffee shop and this girl that I have been leaving messages for all week was there. She apologized for not returning my calls and we had coffee and laughed. That is all of that dream. But when I got to work this morning, there was a voicemail from her. Coincidence? Yes. That's what a coincidence is. But still kind of freaky.





   Wednesday, July 24, 2002
So, I was leaving the gym this morning. There was a 60-year-old sweaty guy talking to a 19-year-old College girl that works at the gym. This is what I overheard:

Sweaty guy: …………and there was Alyssa Milano in a gold lycra thing (pause) completely hairless.

College girl: (looking stunned and confused) uh………..huh?

Sweaty guy: She could have been the model for the completely hairless.

College girl: (just confused now) really?

And Scene.

What could have led up to that conversation? Did the girl ask if he had ever heard of a hairless body? I doubt it. I think he must have said something gross to her like, “Hey, I noticed you have absolutely no hair on your body. Say, that reminds me…..”

Wow. I love only hearing parts of conversations. Then you get to make up the rest.



   Tuesday, July 23, 2002
I did not dream last night. I think my dream self found out about this blog and it shut down. How rude. Denied!

Well, maybe I can trick my dream self. I can tell it that I've stopped the exploitation and that I'll be good from now on. But then if it finds out that I lied, I might be bombarded with horrible nightmares. Not that there's anything *wrong* with that. Except that Ian's sleep will be interrupted by my whimpering. But then I get bonus hugs in the middle of the night. So it's a win/win as far as I can tell.

Ok, but shhhhhhh don't tell my dream self about the trickery. This is so exciting.

I will most likely dream about clothes or being naked tonight, so maybe it's better if I don't dream. I will keep you updated.






   Monday, July 22, 2002
I had a dream this weekend that I was in a wheelchair. But I was faking it. I have no idea why. I was telling the person I was with that my leg was injured and that it was very hard for me to walk so I had to use a wheelchair. At some point in the dream I got up from the wheelchair and walked over to a table. When I realized what I had done, I started limping and explained that sometimes I could walk but for the most part the pain was too intense to put any weight on the leg.

What was that about? Do I have wheelchair envy?

In another dream, I was late for work. Neither one of my cars would start, so I was going from house to house asking for a ride to work. All the while my anxiety about being late was mounting. Finally, I just got in a random car. The keys were there, so I took off. In the dream, I was only ten minutes late for work. Phew!




   Thursday, July 18, 2002
I was at the gym today during the lunch hour. I was on the stationary bike that faces the racquetball courts. There were four people playing in the court directly across from me. There was a new guy that I haven’t seen there before. He kind of looked like a more fit Tom Arnold. I couldn’t help but notice that he was playing dirty. He would plant himself in the way of the ball so that the other team couldn’t get to it and then he would make that face that says, “Oops, sorry. I didn’t know I was in the way.” Then he would kind of walk away with a John Wayne swagger and a smirk. It was in that moment that I thought; he’s a 45-year-old bully! He never grew up. Holy crap!

My imagination ran wild. I bet he’s one of those guys that only hangs out at sports bars and thinks that everyone likes him. But really everyone hates him because he’s loud, rude, obnoxious, and after one hour, very drunk. I bet he walks around all day repeating these sentences in his head. “Another shot of Jaeger, buddy!” and “Boobs………WOOOOO!” I’m crappn’ you negative. I can picture it.

He’s the guy at the baseball game that will knock a small child out of the way to catch a ball, and then he’ll smile with that smarmy grin and tease the child till the tears arrive. What a colossal prick. Of course this is all speculation until he proves me right. And he will.

He’s probably over compensating for his petite penis. Rejection has made him bitter and it’s impossible for him to be kind or even remotely adult-like. He will forever be trying to win and he will always do this by cheating.

I was able to figure all of this out in 30 minutes. Observing this guy through a glass wall. I am truly talented.

Hey, I wonder if he shook those other racquetball people down for their lunch money.



So now I'm having recurring dreams about clothes? I'm sorry but this seems a bit shallow, no? I will still write about it, but I have to say it is a bit embarrassing to be dreaming about my clothes. I mean, jeez!

My dream started at my house, folding and putting away my clothes when I thought I should go to the Thrift Store where I apparently kept my *extra* supply of clothes. I had a section where I stored clothes. So, I went to the Thrift Store and I was looking through my extra clothes when I realized that something was amiss. Someone had taken some of my clothes, and not only that, the clothes that were once neatly folded on the shelf above the hanging clothes were strewn about and wrinkled and balled up and just a horrible mess. I thought for sure that they were selling my clothes. But how could that be? None of my clothes had price tags on them so people must have been stealing them. Then I left the store and just decided that it didn't matter because if I wasn't wearing them, then I must not really need them so I told the manager to sell all of them. I had no use for them anymore. Well, that is all of that dream that I can remember.

My next dream, I was in a wooden loft of a club. The loft was covered in red carpet and sectioned off with wooden walls. I was in one section, naked but I had a towel that I couldn't seem to keep on. In the next section Alice Cooper was singing. He was performing through a hole in the floor of that section. You could only see his shoulders and head poking out of the hole. When I passed by him, I gave him my towel. Then I realized that I was naked and snatched the towel back from him. This made him angry and he started throwing stuff at me. I told him how sorry I was and that I just didn't want to be naked. Then this little furry dog appeared from a hole right next to the Alice Cooper hole. I grabbed the dog and ran down the stairs. My towel fell off. That's when I woke up.

My dreams are just getting weirder and weirder. Calling Dr. Freud.



   Wednesday, July 17, 2002
My husband made me a mix tape. That's right. Jealous? And as my friend Jody would say, "You know a guy *really* likes you when he makes you a mix tape." But seriously, he hasn't done that since we were dating. He would write the sweetest things on the tape cover. You know, like things that only the two of us could understand. So romantic. I know, I'm easy. But that's good for him, right? Doesn't take much for me to melt in his arms. And by the way, we have been together as a couple for fifteen years and married for twelve of those fifteen. I am big on the romance. And I mean, like walking past my husband and he grabs my arm and pulls me into him for a hug. THAT is what I'm talk'n about. Again, I am easy. Oh, and Ian did that pulling me in for a hug thing this morning. Thanks, baby! And I LOVE my *mixed* tape. It rocks and so do you.

Enough of the eeeeemmmm!

On the dream front. I had war dreams again last night. I was in a house with other civilians but we were preparing the house for an attack. There were even a couple bloody dead people in the living room. I got the feeling in the dream that if I didn't cooperate in these efforts that I would likely become one of the bloody dead people. So I was building a bomb! I really was. AND it seems like I knew what I was doing. So strange. I went into another room to get more supplies and there were people giving blood. I remember getting more and more afraid in the dream. That is all I remember.



   Tuesday, July 16, 2002
Where do I start? Last night was a whirlwind of dreams. The images are still in my head. I hope that I can make sense of them in writing.

In the first dream, I was folding my clothes. I was stacking them in tall piles in a truck bed. There were people in the bed of the truck making me very nervous because they were coming so close to tipping over my piles of neatly folded clothes. Then one woman got on top of one pile and it came tumbling down. She laughed and laughed. I was so angry and I scolded her. I said, "I told you to stay away from that stack of clothes. GOD! It took me like forEVER to fold those. You had better help me fix this!" Well, she just kind of ignored me. So I quietly sobbed as I re-folded the clothes. My tears, filled with mascara, were dripping on the clean clothes. That is all I remember of that dream.

In the next dream I was living in an apartment that was like a cave. Short ceilings, the walls had a bumpy texture, and it was really cold. I was in bed with many blankets on when the alarm went off and I got up and slowly walked down the hall to the bathroom. A very chipper woman ran passed me giggling and went into the bathroom. So, I had to wait. But I was waiting in the bathroom in a bed. On the counter was the tooth brush holder that is really in my bathroom, light blue with red cherries. The exact one. That image made me think in the dream about my house and wondered why I wasn't in my house. I decided in the dream that I was trying to keep the house clean for my party this weekend and that I would go back to sleeping in my house after the party. Then I woke up to the alarm.

I decided to sleep in and I had a very bizarre dream. I was laying down in the back seat of a taxi. At first I thought I was just sleeping back there. But then I realized that there were three guys with army gear on. I don't know what army. They were wearing brown shirts and berets. So maybe I was a hostage. The driver kept turning around and looking at this notebook in the back seat. I was unable to talk or move. Maybe I had been drugged. My mind was reeling. I was thinking to myself, "He had better get his eyes on the damn road! Who are those guys? Are they going to shoot me in the head? If I could just open the door, I could jump out. What the hell am I doing back here? I am so sleepy. Eyes on the ROAD!! JEEZ!!" Then I woke up.

Ok, maybe not as interesting as I thought. But disturbing for sure.



   Monday, July 15, 2002
I have had the types of frustrating dreams where I am running in place. Like I'm running in quicksand. I remember a dream from the weekend where I was riding a bicycle, but I had to jump off the bike and run up some stairs. There were two women about to walk up the stairs when I came bounding off my bike to run past them. But no matter how fast I ran, I couldn't get past them. They would look over at me, puzzled, but then continued their conversation. They were dressed like those ladies you see at lunchtime doing their exercise walk in their work clothes, but they're also wearing tube socks and sneakers.

Just a side note about this phenomenon. I used to work with some ladies that did the lunch walks, and P--U! You all stink when you get back. And also...........It doesn't work if you then eat a bag of Doritos in the afternoon. Exercise PLUS diet!

Anyway, I was finally able to pass the lunchtime exercise ladies and then I was in a field and I was conflicted about having left my bike at the end of the stairs. I was thinking that by the time I get into this recurring dream again, I will never remember where I left the bike. Again, I am in a dream thinking about the fact that I am in a dream.

The dream ended pretty much right there. I woke up and felt bad for having lost my bike. I don't have a bike. Just in the dream. My worlds are colliding!




   Friday, July 12, 2002
Last night I dreamt that I was traveling with my Mom. We weren't really in a vehicle, we would just be sent through this tube of some kind and end up at the bottom of a highway off-ramp. There was an old man standing under a bridge. He had a strangely long head that didn't fit his body. He slowly turned to look at us. My Mom and I were talking about asking him for directions but we decided not to because he was so creepy looking. We huddled close and walked passed him.

There was a long dirt road that led into a town. There were houses and fenced in yards, but no people. Trees surrounded the dirt road. The trees were tall and oversized. They had these knots at the trunk with holes in them. Huge bees were flying in and out of the holes. In one of the yards there was an old sign that said CORSICANA. I used to live in this town in Texas, so maybe we were in Texas. Don't know.

We walked down this dirt road for a bit when we noticed that the largest tree of all was blocking the road. The only way we could see to continue on was to climb the tree to get to the other side. Suddenly my little sister, Micki, was there with us. She jumped into the tree and started climbing. "Come on, it's easy," she said. I was scared of all the egg-sized bees flying in and out of the holes in the tree. But Micki smiled and urged us to climb. So, we started climbing. On the other side of the tree there were two really long branches that swept downward. We grabbed one with our hands and put our feet on the other and kind of slid down to the bottom.

We were so happy that we had all made it without falling or being stung by the enormous Texas bees that we jumped around hugging each other. Then I noticed that there was this huge tunnel through the base of the tree. "What? Do you mean to tell me we could have just walked right under that tree?” I said. This made us get so tickled that we all fell to the ground laughing. That is all I remember.

I have to say that I loved being with my Mom and Micki laughing and being adventurous. It was a really soothing and sweet dream. And I guess it is true what they say, everything IS big in Texas.



   Thursday, July 11, 2002
I spoke to a long lost friend on the phone last night. We were roommates in College for like one year, I think. We lived in a four-plex in New Orleans. We were young. She was younger. I have fond happy memories of her and have thought about her often these last twelve years. She is easily one of the funniest people that I have ever known. She can tell the shit out of a story. She could make a story about walking down the street to get a newspaper funny and interesting and keep you on the edge of your chair eating up every word.

Anyway, I googled her and found her living just across the Bay from me. She has been there for a year and a half. I'm surprised we never bumped into each other. I'm so happy she is nearby. We talked on the phone last night for an hour. It seemed like a couple of minutes. We're going to get together this weekend. I am elated. I am a big dork. I was so pumped up that I couldn't sleep very well.

As a result of my sleeplessness I can only remember tiny bits of my dreams. In one dream all I remember is that someone handed me a quarter. And also there were lots of colorful tattooed people everywhere. Even *I* had more tattoos than I have currently. Maybe that means I should get more tattoos and that they will only cost me a quarter. Excellent.




   Wednesday, July 10, 2002
I must teach the masses how to be kind.

I see angry people at the gym and I think to myself, Why are you so mad? Why must you stomp around asking people how long they have been on the eliptical? Come earlier and you too can have a machine. You can't just roll out of bed at 7 and then demand a machine as soon as you walk your lazy ass into the gym. Other people are currently on that machine. Eat some food, maybe that will help calm you.

I see crazy people on the streets bobbing and weaving through traffic only to get to the stoplight first. Ok, you win. You beat me to the stoplight. Do you feel triumphant? Can you now chill and have a fabulous day?

I work on a college campus and I see students marching angrily to class. Did you know that life just gets harder after college? Well, newsflash!

I know that people are unhappy. I too can forget my manners, but it is so much more rewarding to be kind. You can save so much energy and time just by smiling at someone. I love the feeling of smiling at an angry person and seeing their face soften just a bit. Do your part people.

Just for today, smile at a stranger. If they don't smile back, kick them in the shin. Have a nice day.





   Tuesday, July 09, 2002
Dear Racquetball Dudes:

Why are you so fat? Maybe you should play two at a time instead of four. The four of you hardly fit in the little box as it is. You just run into each other constantly. Why are all of your bellies identical? Big round hard pregnant bellies. Why do you all think you’re sexy? Clearly you think this or else you wouldn’t all take time to glance at women and make your come hither faces. Don’t you see the horrified looks staring back at you? You are 70 years old, for chrissake. Get over yourselves. Have you looked in a mirror lately? And again on the huge bellies. I am afraid you might have a heart attack. It's called salad. Look into it.



Dear Half-Naked Stationary Bike Dude:

Why? Why? For the love of God, why? I don’t understand why you take your shirt off every morning before you sit down on that bike? It boggles the mind. If you don’t want to wear a shirt when you exercise, then why wear one at all? Are you aware of the size of your torso? I don’t need to see that. No one needs to see that.


Dear Twenty Year Old College Girls,

Eat something. You are beautiful. If you are going to burn calories, you must consume calories. I fear for your health. I understand that you think you’re fat. You aren’t you silly girls. You will look at pictures of yourselves in twenty years and see just how beautiful you were in your early twenties and regret that you didn’t enjoy it.

Dear Gym Scale,

LIAR!!!!!!


Dear Clipboard Guy,

FREAK!!!!!


Dear God, Jah, Buddha, etc.,

Sorry about all that mean shit I just wrote. Please forgive me.







   Monday, July 08, 2002
On Friday, I wrote my entry early in the morning. Blogger was messed up so I couldn't post until Saturday. I was obsessively trying to post all day. I am officially a blogg'n fool. I accept that.

I had some great dreams this weekend. I dreamt that I got into a fight with my High School bully. AND I kicked her ass. In the dream, a bunch of girls came into the locker room to warn me that she was coming to beat me up. I wasn't even afraid; I just started getting mentally prepared. When she approached me, I put down my gym shoes, planted my feet, bent my knees for balance, and put up my dukes. That is weird because I have never fought before, but that definitely seems like a smart thing to do.

I will give you some background about this High School bully. Her name is Julie Wilde. She used to torment me daily my freshman year because......get this. Because I was a cheerleader. Apparently she didn't like cheerleaders. She would call me a, "Fuck'n Rah Rah." Very clever, Julie. But, I was a freshman in High School and she scared the crap out of me. She was big and mean. One of her favorite things to do was flip my books out of my hands in a crowded hallway and kick them down the hall. Or on the way to Trampoline class during P.E., she would kick me in the middle of my back and I would slide down the hall in my stocking feet till a wall would stop me. I only wish I could have been there when her karma caught up to her. Oh and I hope that she is living a happy and full life. Just checking my own karma.

Anyway, I kicked Julies' cheerleader hate'n ass. I must say that this was a very satisfying dream. She kept trying to fight dirty, but there was a referee that kept her in line. I have no idea who the ref was. Bottom line is that I gave her the ass kicking that she deserved. I wonder how many other cheerleaders she terrorized in her High School career. I wonder if she is having recurring dreams that cheerleaders are kicking her ass. That would be sweet.

I had another dream that I was shooting heroin. I have never shot heroin ever, so I have no idea why I dreamt about it. In the dream I was on a trip with a bunch of girls and I didn't fit in at all. These girls found my needles and confronted me so I went back to the hotel room and shot the rest of my dope and then got on a bus. That is all I remember.

I don't remember any dreams from last night. I just remember being woken up every so often by my husband. He would periodically spoon or re-spoon me. LOVE the spoon. Don't matter if I am the spooner or the spooney. I just love it. If you haven't tried the spoon, you must! Don't make this heroin shoot'n cheerleader kick your ass.





   Friday, July 05, 2002
Last night’s dream: I was in a restaurant and I was eating a salad. Ian was sitting at another table. He was taking care of some business and I was just eating my salad and waiting for him to come back over to sit with me. Then this guy who looked like Chris Penn sat down next to me. Chris Penn, not Sean Penn. Ugly and fat. He was totally hitting on me. So I kept displaying my wedding ring when I would answer questions. That didn’t phase him, so I just started saying, "My husband this…………My husband that……" That wasn’t working either. What he didn’t notice during this time was that Ian was watching and getting very angry from the next table.

Next thing you know Ian is standing at the table and confronting this guy. OK, so my husband is wearing a suit and is talking like Al Pacino. It was totally like a mob movie. An interesting side note is that I started eating Chris Penn’s food while Al Pacino was telling him off. It was brie quesadilla. And in the dream I could taste it and it was delicious. YUMMY. Another detail that I remember is that Chris gave Al $40 to leave him alone. So Ian, who was channeling Al Pacino, said this and I quote, "I tell you what, why don’t I take five dollars and you take thirty five and I just don’t see your face here again. But If I do, I’m gonna break thirty-five of your precious bones. Now get out-a-heah." I was so disappointed that he didn’t say, "Fuhget about it." But I didn’t write it, I just dreamt it.

Ian was my hero in the dream as he is in real life.

On Wednesday night Ian had to wake me up from a dream and hold me while I cried. In that dream a homeless guy had broken into our house and he was stabbing me. I guess I was moaning which woke Ian up, but in the dream I was screaming at the top of my lungs in an effort to wake up. So when Ian said that I was just barely whimpering, I was surprised.

Do you ever have those dreams where you know your in a dream and you make every effort to wake up? This happens to me all the time. And sometimes I think I’m awake, but I’m still in the dream and I have to do the trying to wake up thing all over again. So scary.

Okay, that’s all. Have a fabulous weekend. Happy dreaming.




   Wednesday, July 03, 2002
So, this morning I was at the gym and the evil Clipboard Guy was there spreading his freakdom. This guy is like 68 years old but more fit than most men in their 30's. He always wears a white T-shirt and tiny aqua blue running shorts. I like to think that he has a closet with 20 of these outfits all pressed and lined up in a perfect row. He carries a clipboard with his routine mapped out for him and when he finishes each exercise he puts a mark of some sort on the page. He is very menacing as he hovers over you waiting for the machine you’re on. The machine you just got on and you will be there for a little while still, so back off Clipboard Guy!! One day I said, "Umm, could you not stand over me like that and stare. It feels really creepy!" He didn't even say a word or make eye contact, he just kept waiting.

So today, I was observing Clipboard Guy and he was doing his thing and this beautiful sistah turned to him and said, " Get up off of me! Whats yo problem!" He kind of jumped and moved a few feet over. Beautiful I tell you! I was so happy that I went directly over to her and introduced myself and proceeded to talk much shit about the freak. She laughed at my nickname for him and we bonded.

I guess the moral of the story is that even crazy freakish clipboard carrying motherf*ers can bring people together.



Dream: I'm working in some kind of store but for some reason I am in a closet with like four other people. Everyone is busy but they aren't really doing anything. One of the girls is being very rude to some customers that are standing at the door of the closet asking her for help. She was all, " Get the fuck out of here. Shit. I am trying to work and shit. Damn." I must have been the manager of the closet because I pulled her off to the corner and ripped her a new one. In the dream I was thinking that this girls interview was great but that it turns out that she is an awful employee. I was thinking how much it was going to suck to have to fire her. Then I proceeded to smooth things over with the customers and provide them with quality customer service. They wanted more of the tiny baby dolls that they then showed me. The dolls were no bigger than my thumb. Teeny Tiny. So, I just explained to them that we only sold the heads of the dolls but not the whole doll and that they would have to go downstairs to the next department to buy the dolls already assembled. Ok, that is all I remember.

Reality: The only thing that comes close to any of that freaky-ass dream is that I have been interviewing people. I do fear that the person we choose will have given a perfect interview and then be all, "Whatchoo want. Shit. I'm trying to work over here. Damn." So, that is the only thing that I can pull from real life for that one. Jeez, what is up with these wacky dreams?



   Tuesday, July 02, 2002
I remember a random thing from last night’s dream. I was in the shower, but the shower was in a public area and everyone could see me. This, sadly, is a recurring theme in my dreams. Being naked or half-naked in public. Why? Here is what Yahoo dream analysis says about this.

“if you see yourself naked in inappropriate places, your rebellious side may be coming through and with it some fear that people may not accept you for what you really are.”

Rebellious side? I’m too old for that shit. And if people don’t accept me for who I really am? They can go fuck themselves. I accept me and like me. Because I’m good enough, I’m smart enough and dog gonnit…………..

God love Stuart Smalley. If you haven’t seen, “Stuart Saves His Family.” Get thee to a rental facility and rent that shit today. So so funny.

I also have dreams of sitting on a toilet in a public area with no walls around the toilet. Once I had a dream that I was on the toilet and suddenly I was on the train platform completely exposed. People were walking around me like nothing was happening. Total commuter traffic. So, scary and the worst part was that I really really had to go, but I couldn’t.

I know what it all means. It means that I have a fear of pissing and crapping in public. I think that’s healthy.