Acknowledging

Someone once told me that you should acknowledge your feelings when you have them, don’t push them away or think they’re bad or anything like that.

So, right now I’m acknowledging them. And I’m sad.

Listening with your head

I’ve always listened with my heart. I bought my house based on a gut instinct. (heart…teared up when I walked in the door). My gut (my heart) says this is good, this is bad. She’s really nice, but I get a bad feeling from her. He seems cool enough, but my gut says something is off.

Someone said that to me today. Something about how hard it is to listen with your head, not with your heart. How we have to go with that.

Sure is sucking right now. Because my brain knows it’s smart, and has to win out this time.

Warning: May Cause Bruising

This weekend I was at my mom’s, helping her move some stuff, helping her figure out what to throw, what to give, what to donate. As I stood in the pantry, looking through a cookbook, a cockroach jumped out. Now, if you know me, I’m no good with the roaches. Can’t handle them. I threw the book, screamed. Mom screamed. As the book dropped, a fucking WHITE roach ran toward the closet (presumably away from the sunlight it had never seen!). I jumped–JUMPED–out of the pantry and banged the hell out of my knee.

I knew I’d have a bruise.

As I’ve shown off my bruise, I thought a lot about bruises.

They’re painful. And they’re ugly.

Sometimes bruises show up and you don’t remember where they came from or how you got them. When did I hit my shin? That spot hurts, and it looks like a big bruise, and it’s ugly, but I don’t remember doing that.

You hit that bruise and it’s a reminder. Sometimes you don’t know what it’s a reminder of. How did I hit my arm there? Stuff just comes up. Memories come back. Subtleties trickle in. Wait, maybe it was when I was cleaning the kitchen. Sometimes you really can’t remember where it came from.

Sometimes you know you’re going to bruise.  I remember whacking the hell out of my knee. I knew it’d be an impressive bruise, and oh! the story to go with it! (Yes, it was fucking white!!). It’s like a badge of honor. Look what I had to go through and look what I have to show for it! You know when you touch it, that it will hurt. You know that it will hurt during the day. You know the slightest bump will be painful. You know it’ll get worse before it gets better.

It changes colors, it changes intensities. It changes size, new bruising appears. Old bruising fades.

There are bruises that cause a laugh. Like the HUGE one I got when I fell down (not even drinking!) at WurstFest because some people who were drunk couldn’t dance well. That bruise was HUGE!! But the story behind it was hilarious. I liked showing it off, I liked telling people about it. And then when we were in a circle, I tripped or hit something wrong and I crashed into a picnic table.

Or the time I had fingerprints on my leg. Yes, fingerprints from when The Guys picked me up and threw me in the river. Annoyed, although it was funny. We got our revenge… Was fun to say, “Look at the fingerprints you gave me!”

The thing about bruises is that they’re always ugly, they’re most always painful.

But they do go away. The pain and the ugliness does eventually go away.

Driving

So I had another dream. More dreams. Whatever. Same dream?

Amusement park type of thing with Dad. We were going to ride the XLR8 (which really was a ride at Astroworld–wow, flashbacks, no?) But he got a call that he had to go to the shelter (he really does work at a shelter). So he started to drive our little car off the track. (It was like one of those little cars you get to drive around the park)

We pulled up to the place–two young boys (don’t remember if they were my students in the dream, but they were later on).  They were sitting on the ground, against a car or something.

Dad got out to talk to the police officer guy (I think he got something from the glove compartment). I watched the boys. Their eyes got big and scared as they watched my dad talk to the guy. Turns out he pulled out a gun (not in a bad way) and he was cleaning it. He had turned some so I couldn’t really see it.

In real life, dad says driving dreams are really important. Like whose driving your life sort of thing. So I don’t know what all that means, yet.  It’s obvious about the students. The guns, coat hangers, cleaning guns, costume parties… I’m more at a loss.

Password Protected

Just so you know,  I’ll probably have a few “password protected” posts coming up. If you ask, I’ll most likely tell you.

A coat hanger?

Okay, so last night’s dream, I must have been at some sort of costume party or something … some woman came in dressed as–get this a coat hanger!!  She had like a big overcoat on, with a coat hanger in it. I don’t know if she told me or if I knew what she was. It kinda seems like maybe I did it, too, to follow her.

That’s all I really remember. Or that’s what stood out to me. I don’t know.

Weird.

dreams

Holy shit, it was a drem-filled night. Little blurbs that I remember:

• Walking next to a beach, lots of water (water is very common in my dreams), looking or being underneath the wave of a good surfboarding wave, walking with step-mom
• being in some kind of weird building, where women were all dressed up in Victorian style dresses, one SUPER tall.
• waiting by the elevator (at that same place) to get in, lots of people, including the super tall one, and those there to see the “shows” (yes, that kind) shoved into the elevator, I got on the empty one that came just a second later. One of my students with his dad (!! Who takes their kid to this type of place?!) on the elevator. I get on, they get off.  Elevator doesn’t seem to move, but looking out the window, I can tell it is.
• There’s some guy that was doing something bad to/with dad (not like that). Some sort of UHaul  that connects to the car was involved.  Had to get away from the scary guy. Dad had the Uhaul people bring a new one for some reason.  Dad attached the new one (to make it seem like the old one). Dad lit it on fire, and sped off. I was in my car and had to speed off to b/c all the evidence was getting blown up. Hard to get away. Another scary guy ran along next to my car for a bit.

I know there was more. I was thinking them over and over as I woke up sweating. Thought of more in the shower, don’t remember them now.   Weird.

I’m exhausted.

blah

This entire week I’ve eaten like crap. And you know I try to watch what I eat. … I did go work out yesterday, but pigged out during the day and then didn’t do “awesome” that night.

Today was not wonderful, either. Lots of snacking again today. At work and here at home.

I saw there was a gym class at 8:00. I’m going. I don’t feel awesome right now. Like a little achy. But I don’t feel like I’m getting sick (knock on wood). I think it’s mostly just having eaten crap for a few days, after doing well the week previous.

So, here I am, announcing I’m taking my gross-feeling ass to the gym. For an 8:00 class.

Protected: Horriblescope, again

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…content

The instructions were to go to your google reader and type a word in the search box and then type 10 sentences that could provide valuable insight to future generations to come (slightly paraphrased).

…and is content crawling around.

…. the fat content

….to be content is to color within the lines.

…I was content with my current equipment.

…satisfied and content

…to be perfectly content with that.

…the adult content found in most of the messages

…moderate butter content

…pretty content, over all, with my consistent if not spectacular performance.

…happy and content with their unencumbered state