Dreams - 3

Having to have to drive my brother-in-law’s car, only to find its brakes work like shit. It was his Toyota Echo, a little black car which always looked like a clown car when he’d get out of it. I left it in the parking lot and went to find the other car I’d been driving (brown Datsun?) but it was gone.

Then in the house I was in, which wasn’t mine, I was an unwelcome guest intruding on someone’s giant wedding party. I was dressed in khaki pants and a striped polo shirt, like a guy and completely under dressed and no one wanted me around. So going inside to find a place to hide/change was uncomfortable because I was in everyone’s way.

There was some scene where I was helping an obese man clean out lasagna trays. I remember thinking he was attempting to clean out one tray that had way too much food still in it; rather than putting it in the sink and running water in it, he should’ve scraped out all that delicious-looking leftover sauce and meat and noodle … Nevermind, too late!

I know my brother was somewhere in this.

I also was in a school office — more like high school or middle school — and David was working at his desk. Over the loudspeaker came Lorraine Cove’s voice and she was badmouthing both David AND Tina, relentlessly, in her horrible Boston accent, and all the while being completely unaware that her intended conversation, to a single person, was being broadcast over the intercom for everyone to hear. Someone got her to stop but not before the damage was done.

At one point, I was naked and needed to change, so, someone ushered me to the nurse’s office. There, I saw that a crazed serial killer was there, and she was trying to inject patients with some sort of chemical, with an absurdly large plastic syringe. I think Paula was there for a second. At one point, it was ME who had the syringe in hand, and was using it as a weapon to protect myself from others… but Paula wanted me to inject the last of the chemical into her wrist.

Dreams - 2

That this little itchy nuisance of a cut (or is it picked-at blackhead) inside my right ear became some large, crusty monstrosity. More like how insulative spray foam dries into a hardened little cloud - that. There was that in my ear. I picked at it, pulled it away and then I noticed something coming out of my eye.

Kind of like if an elver eel, glassy and transparent, were shaped like a tadpole. Or maybe it was a tadpole. Anyway, it was definitely a young, baby sprouting thing that popped out of my tear duct. I was crying tadpoles of some sort, and the tadpoles were completely transparent, enough to see dark-black markings on them. One came out. It didn’t hurt. But looking closer at my eye, I new that there were more of them in there… I was loaded with them. How many? If I didn’t get them all out, was it going to hurt, because they’d start growing and getting bigger? And where else were they?

…I also remember Sara Haskins being in my dream for a bit. I was watching her talk during an interview on a TV show. She was talking about Trophy Wife. …I think I really really want to see another episode of Trophy Wife.


It is amazing how many Shouldn’ts have been thoroughly indulged in my parenting style. The anxiety of the future breathes heavy, looking backwards, and fogs up any hope in the present. 

Dreams - 1

So it was my company, returning again to the banquet-style end-of-year “thank you for your hard work” party. But they went all out: some posh conference hall in a hoity toity hotel. And I was done up in a long black gown, sleeveless & empire-waist, hair piled high, maybe even black gloves up to the elbows. I looked stunning and it was one of those rare times I allowed myself to accept how good I looked. 

What was served for our sumptuous meal?

…Chinese food. And…not your painstakingly created feast like in Eat Drink Man Woman, I’m talking your average slop you get from a walk-in Chinese food joint that’s sitting in a run down strip mall.

I was so disappointed. I remember seeing a lot of folks who used to work there (Dowrai, Shanice) and of course there was that awkward moment that always happens whenever the entire company is to eat together in a single room: Who’s Gonna Sit Where. Are you getting to sit with someone you like? Or are you sitting with someone you barely know? And are you sitting with someone who struggles to speak English and would prefer to sit with another Taiwanese/Mainlander?

All the stress of getting purtied up, and keeping up appearances… for shitty deep-fried sweet and sour chicken and greasy ass lo mein. …And to be completely honest, I think I was fairly bummed that Paul wasn’t there. My buddy Paul, who I love hanging out with whenever I’m back in NJ, he was a no show to this un-event. We often cackle about how these company parties are atrocious, but the one thing that makes them perfectly bearable — if not enjoyable — is him indulging in this slander with me.

I remember seeing Tom eating and pretending to really enjoy it. Everyone who was seated was all pussy footing around the food, but damn, I was hungry and with such a disappointment, I didn’t see any reason to be shy about getting some grub, or eating like it was a Friday night in college after a study session. So I dove in. Even walked around to someone else’s table and asked, “Do you mind letting me get some of that?” and diving in with my chopsticks to their self-serve plates. 

And then, as I was standing up sometime after I’d eaten, Patrick delivered another one of his stunners to me.

"Everyone, we should be so happy to have another soon-to-be Mom in our midst," he said, looking at me.





"I’m not pregnant."

"You’re not?"

"No, not since CeCe. But that was it."

"I thought you were pregnant."



Then I left and remember changing into some goth-like knee high boots to go along with this long dress.

…and that was it.

Ha! Let’s be honest, anyone that follows Obama or me on Twitter knows that Obama is a huge Breaking Bad fan and he doesn’t mind saying the word “bitch” over Twitter, which is very exciting to me and the entire American public.
They become parents later in life. There’s a loss of freedom, a loss of autonomy. It’s totally different from going from your parents’ house to immediately having a baby. Now you know what you’re giving up.” (Or, as a fellow psychologist told Gilbert when he finally got around to having a child: “They’re a huge source of joy, but they turn every other source of joy to shit.”)
The little one is going to be four tomorrow…

The little one is going to be four tomorrow…

This is the beginning of a serious conversation," Keene concluded. "We won’t be taking any questions.
STFU Turd Blossom
During an appearance on Fox News, Rove claimed that Obama had not gotten more people to vote for him, compared to 2008. Instead, Obama successfully retained his 2008 supporters and convinced voters not to cast their ballots for his Republican challenger Mitt Romney.
“He succeeded by suppressing the vote, by saying to people, ‘You may not like who I am and I know you can’t bring yourself to vote for me, but I’m going to paint this other guy as simply a rich guy who only cares about himself,’” he said.

Raw Story (http://s.tt/1sFQ0)
Sorry, Karl:
  1. One dildobrain’s “suppressing the vote” is another person’s law-abiding method of winning an election. You’re playing the Reverse Racism card showing your Reverse Racism hand. 
  2. Romney painted himself up in 2 dozen different shades of asshole & Obama’s hand wasn’t anywhere near that paint brush.