dreams

I've been led to wonder lately how much of our subconscious is manifested through our dreams and are dreams possibly the way that our body or our mind is trying to tell us something?

What leads me to wonder about this? Recently my dreams have been extremely vivid, especially in the morning. I can remember all the details about what occurrences happened, where I was, colours and fixtures on walls, people I know who have somehow made their way into my subconscious...people who I haven't seen in years...it's strange and leaves me a bit uneasy at times.

Perhaps it's the fact that my dreams have had people from my past in them, or the fact that the people from my past have been interacting with people in my present (in my dreams) and somehow it feels as though my two worlds are colliding...

I have this Person, in my life now and even though I think we're pretty close, I still have parts of my life that he doesn't know about. It's nothing dramatic like a stint in juvie or a brief appearance on Mr Dress Up...it's just bits of my childhood that he doesn't know about and probably wouldn't understand, and in my dreams these two separate parts of my life are violently colliding.

In this morning's dream I was standing in a hallway/cafe of a house-turned-hotel and he said he'd wait for me while I went to the washroom. I went to bathroom and took too long; when I got back he was gone and people that I haven't seen for years were sitting at his table. I tried to run out of the strange building and ended up on a country road where a horse with the same colouring as my dog was about to be put down.

It was strange and discomfiting to say the least. I ask myself why I'm dreaming about him leaving me alone in a strange building and have come to the conclusion that I'm probably still partially afraid that he'll leave me, even though I try to bury that fear deep down, dismiss it and not let it show to him.

So I'm trying to grasp why I've been having these strange dreams lately, trying to figure out what might be causing them, attempting to understand what my mind is telling me through sleep. Our brains are always active even when we're buried deep under the cloak of sleep so clearly something is bothering me...something that is poking through my cloak and causing me to start awake, feeling a bit uneasy and scared.

Working through it...slowly working through it...

My Guilty Pleasure -- No. 2

I started a series of "guilty pleasures" a long time ago and only made one post on it. I guess the series aspect of it never panned out, so I thought I would try again and admit to another guilty pleasure that I have and indulge in on a weekly basis.

Desperate Housewives.

I know, I know. Pure trash airing on a Sunday night, but I can't help myself. The first season hooked me with it's plot about a character's suicide, the torrid affair between an unhappily married wife and a gardener, a mother struggling to juggle her duties as wife/mother/professional career woman... There were so many interesting stories in season one.

The show probably hit it's stride around season three and has slowly but steadily slipped since then. The characters have become shrewish and it is difficult to empathize with them. The fact that the actresses themselves are obviously ageing but not being allowed to do so with dignity is a little off-putting. The plot lines, which were always a bit stretched, are now past the line of being absurd.

Yet I keep watching because I have this obsession with shows that I've begun...I have to watch them from beginning to end and I've only broken that rule once--with Gossip Girl. Enough said, I've purged that show from my memory anyway.

More on topic--in the most recent episode of DH one of the husbands gives his wife an ultimatum--choose to side with your friend (whose teenage son had run over his grandmother) or stand by me. He seems extremely serious and pan the camera to the pleading eyes of his wife.

Since watching that episode, I've given quite a bit of thought to ultimatums. When are they right or fair to make? If you truly love someone, will you ever give them an ultimatum? When does making forcing an ultimatum simply become manipulation?

I don't have the answers to any of those questions and I would guess that all the answers would be situational anyway. There is no black-and-white, right-and-wrong rule to using ultimatums. I would hope that in my relationships I will never have to, but who knows? People are unpredictable and human/flawed.

Cue next scene: pleading housewife knocks on said friend's door and enters with her two children trailing behind her.

Sometimes it feels wrong giving into ultimatums. The whole relationship changes when you allow yourself to be controlled or manipulated by someone who says that they love you.

And this is why I love Desperate Housewives. It leads me to these interesting thoughts.

Happy Belated Easter and yet another Monday...

I worked all weekend.

Nothing, nothing is worse than working when everyone else (or what feels like everyone else) has the weekend off and is out gadding about in the beautiful spring weather while I am stuck inside for a long and boring 9-5 shift through the entire weekend.

Only one thing brought me back to work today...the time and a half incentive. I could barely roll out of bed this morning, feeling tired and generally gross. At least I know I'll be able to sleep in tomorrow....yesterday was probably the worst shift of the entire weekend, getting up early with the knowledge that I have to get up early the next day as well. Exhausting.

What broke up the mundane weekend was my Person staying at my apartment with my dog during the day, leaving me free to work without having to worry about walking back and letting the dog out. He came by the nursing station around four and handed my keys, smiling and saying there was a surprise back at the apartment for me.

I got back to the apartment a bit after five and saw a row of chocolate eggs lined up along the mantelpiece. A single pink wrapped one lay on my pillow, which lay on my neatly made bed, the sheet tucked in between the box spring and mattress, the duvet laid out and smoothed over the bed.

The kitchen, which had been a huge mess for several days, was entirely clean. All the dishes (I think almost every single dish was dirty) were washed and put away in the cupboards. The oven was cleaned, the skillet washed, the counter spotless...

Three eggs in gold wrappers sat on the counter with an index card that read "Happy Easter", a small doodle on the back.

He called me right after I texted him a heart felt thank you and he told me to turn on my computer. My desktop had a new background, a piece of artwork which he had created on his computer, an intricate pattern made just of the word "love".

There's something beautiful about feeling as though you belong with someone. There's something comforting about knowing that there's someone thinking about you and wondering how you are or what you are doing in that moment. There's something wonderful about the realization that someone loves you even in your lowest moments when you're crying, snotting into your pillow, wallowing in self pity.

So even though it's been a long weekend with work, it's also been a great weekend with my good friend, with my lover, with the man I want to be with for a long time...
Sometimes I feel uncertain, as though maybe I'm not the right person for him and that he'll come to that realization very quickly. Mostly I doubt my own ability to maintain a healthy relationship, mainly because I never have before. Anyway, choosing not to dwell on these negative things is going to be my new course of action. Why worry about something that is at least partially out of my control? I know it's my character, it's what I do, but I have to find a way to break away from the negativity and choose to be happy.

Which brings me to another new experience I had this weekend: meeting his grandparents.
Obviously you're always a bit nervous to meet someone's family...even more so with the older members of the family because their opinion seems to matter more and they have more weight with decisions and whatever...I'm not sure why it matters more. Regardless of that theory, he invited me to his small family Easter dinner upon my insistence that I wanted to meet more of his family members. It was just his parents, his brother, his grandparents and us two...so completely different from my family dinners and gatherings.

His grandparents spoke fluent Hungarian and broken English. At one point, after the most delicious and varied meal that I've eaten in a long time, his grandma turned to him and I and said in such a charming manner, "Do you full?" She also somehow managed to make many of her statements sound like sexual innuendos. The best grandma yet.

She's so sassy and approachable, full of a zest for life, an openness to meet new people and accept them into her life and she has such a deep affection for her grandson. For me, it's easy to understand why she loves him so much; he's friendly and kind, warm hearted through and through. Standing on the outside of the family dynamic and looking in, I could see which parent the boys were similar to and to my eyes, he's a male version of his grandma.

She kissed me on both cheeks when I left and said to him, "Be good to her", although I think he was busy and didn't hear. I left the house full and relieved that I hadn't said or done anything that had caused his family to look at me askance. During a few moments I felt as though they were eyeing me, as though I was a foreign object, as though I was a phase that he is going through and would eventually be done with. It was an odd sensation, not entirely enjoyable, but it passed quickly when he sat beside me at the table and rubbed my leg comfortingly, touching my hand, shoulder, leg or back constantly through the entire night.

That night, Friday night, seems so long ago although it's only been four days. My schedule is all confused now due to working through the weekend. I'm going home in an hour to sleep; I feel seriously sleep deprived.

Below, the index card he drew on which is now firmly tucked in my journal for safe keeping.

weird doctors and banana sculptures

Today at work was weird.

I almost fell asleep at my desk (again). It appears I am hitting some sort of wall every day around 4:30 pm. I'm not sure what it is or why, but noise started fading in an out and I had that strange humming you get in your ears right before you're about to drift off and there's lots of noise happening around you.

Forced my eyes open when my boss came around the nursing station pretending to be friendly and nice. Internal muttering and cursing occurred.

Later in the day, the strangest thing. A surgeon and his resident was sitting at my desk, using my computer and my phone, when the patient call bell rang and I leaned in between him and the nurse next to him to grab it.

I guess he didn't like that because he was talking to the nurse and I was (very temporarily) blocking their conversation. He literally grabbed my hip and shoved me back out of his way while saying, "Tsshhttt tshhhtt tsshhht, I'm talking to her". It was the strangest thing ever.

First, the "tsshttt's" were strange. It wasn't even an English noise. He came here from Israel, so I think it may have been a sound of annoyance in Hebrew? It was strange, as I said.

Second, grabbing my hip/side? I have big and unattractive hips. Why would he touch me there? He could have just tapped my arm or shoulder. Nope, he went right in and grabbed my hip/abdomen region.

Third, I don't even know him! He's only been cutting with our floor for about two months, maybe. We've never had a conversation before.

I backed away from the desk right away and was like, "Well, I'm trying to answer this call" and walked away. He must have known what he did was kinda odd because he smiled at me later when he said goodnight. I just stared sternly at him.

People are...well...I just...ODD. REALLY ODD.

Speaking of odd, check out the picture below.

A sculpture made out of a banana:

Apparently this is what Asian people do. You can see more of them here.

Peace.

summer sun come quickly and last

work and how life sucks

I believe we should find some satisfaction in our jobs, whether it's serving coffee, working at a hospital, making art for the public, holding a "$5 fresh pizza" sign on a side walk, teaching children how to read, walking on iron building structures thousands of feet in the air, or testing people to assess whether they're able to drive properly.

Clearly the word "work" has some negative connotations for a good reason. Work is the thing that we have to do. We can't, I can't live without going to work because I wouldn't be able to pay assorted bills or enjoy leisurely activities without a steady source of income. Work is what we're forced to do even if we don't feel like it and that is part of becoming an adult...doing things that you don't necessarily want to do.

But lately I've been wondering where the line is between hating the need or requirement to work and simply hating your job. For a while I was content to go to work and I enjoyed spending time there, especially considering the pay cheque I was receiving...but lately it's become apparent to me that pay cheques do not keep one happy long term. I look forward to work shifts with a sick feeling in my stomach sometimes. I'm sick of the negativity that seems to breed in the nursing stations, that has pervaded my life and my mind set.

I was never the person to drop the word "fuck" multiple times in a sentence and now I find myself saying "fucking hell" or "that's fucking bullshit" or "I'm fucking outta here" all the time. It's disturbing. I even accidentally said it in front of one of my friends who doesn't curse or use impolite words.

And I've never been the person to bring work issues and frustrations home, but now after a particularly long and annoying day, I storm home cranky and barely manage to hold a conversation with people around the apartment without wanting to freak out. I can't believe how much my work has affected my attitude and I hate it.

There it is--I almost completely hate my job. I don't feel challenged to use my brain, to learn new things, to problem solve...I don't feel encouraged to "be all I can be", to discover and explore possibilities, to change and become better at anything. I simply exist at work. Walk there, sit down and do my job, stare across the nursing station and into the hallway, answer the phones politely and direct people, transcribe orders and do paperwork, enter tests on auto-pilot, all the while hating it. Just fucking hating it.

I could do that job with my eyes closed. Except for the reading and writing part...which is actually a big part...so never mind, I couldn't. What I mean is, it has become so tedious and predictable and I feel unhappy there.

People say, if you feel unhappy make the necessary changes to your life in order to find what you want to do, but I always come back to this--

One never has a job that they're completely happy with. Complaining about work seems to be a very common thing and perhaps I should be content with the fairly decent job that I currently have instead of bitching on about it.

And two, I have no idea what to do with myself. I'm lost in this world that is surrounding me, too consumed with this guy, too over wrought as I consider the unpredictable future, too obsessive compulsive about certain things, so fucking scared of stepping out. I hate hate hate this person I've allowed myself to become, comfortable but despising where I am. I used to be so brave and so ready to take on the world and now I've somehow become introverted and ridiculously tentative when it comes to making big changes.

Find what you love and do it. That's what people say and that's what I need to do... find something that I love and do it no matter what it takes to get there. I'm already twenty-six, I feel old when I get called "ma'am", time inexorably ticking by and I'm going to be left behind...

Snap out of it! Seize the day, take what you can, try something new, be all you can be, do one thing everyday that scares you, live on the edge...

Tell me what I can do to spur myself on...

poetry

I haven't written poetry in weeks, maybe months. I can't remember the last time I sat with my worn down pencil and let the words flow out in short sporadic bursts, smudging the clean white paper with confused and questioning thoughts, sometimes thoughts of certainty, usually thoughts of self disgust and worry. I could try but the idea of attempting to force my emotions out into sentences that will later seem pithy and unimportant...that idea truly disgusts me. I've never had a writing blockage like this before. But I want to say:

"I love you more than I've ever loved anyone in my life"
the shoe drops, the clock hand turns, lungs rise and fall
gravity pulls me back, a tear rushes to my eye, the phone rings
a nurse complains, life continues on to them unchanged
I sit in my chair, bruised knees under my desk, feet on the floor
I sit in wonder and astonishment of this love that I don't deserve
I sit in fear and worry that he'll take his love back from me
my foot taps, time moves on to three-thirty, I breathe in and out
reality hits me again, I brush the tear away, I hang up the phone

I guess I still have some poetry in me.

Nestor aka I want him

bomb di bomb di dang di dang diggy diggy

Bust Yo Ass

I've been loving on the this song lately:





A nice upbeat tempo to keep you running.


The weather is slowly getting warmer despite a few cold nights here and there. Hope you're enjoying the fresh smell of spring like I am!

Destiny is not a matter of chance, it is a matter of choice; it is not a thing to be waited for, it is a thing to be achieved.
-William Jennings Bryan

the Internet is too busy for me

There are way too many social sites on the Internet.
As of right now I have accounts at:

Myspace (why oh why do I still have this?)
Facebook
Blogspot
Livejournal
Tumblr
Twitter
a varied assortment of forums about: greyhounds, motorcycles, the GTA, LOST, etc
IMDb
Hotmail
Gmail
Yahoo Mail
Yahoo Answers
Wikipedia
OKCupid (what is this I don't even)
eHarmony
and probably many more than I can't think of on the spot.
It's getting out of control.

Fortunately I'm stupid and basically use the same variation of one password for every account. It would be ridiculously easy to gain access (and control) over my Internet life.

Perhaps my life is simply too cluttered in general. I consider that fact when I look at the messy apartment (stuff is still in boxes!), think about my relationship with my family members (um...dire), and contemplate all my Internet accounts that I rarely utilize.

The more I think about all the things in my life that I need to somehow sort through, the more overwhelmed I get and the greater the urge I have to run. Run away from the craziness that is just threatening to storm down!
I want to be here:

I hate work today with all my heart.

Also, I've been using my Tumblr more often. The link for it is in the sidebar. Damn you Internet! Sucking me into yet another site!

"I Love And Forgive Myself"

My Person is an amazing artist. I know how people get about their significant others. They start to look at the person through rose tinted shades. When they talk about how their partner is an amazing singer or musician or a genius...well, you take everything they say with a grain of salt.

But he seriously has such talent when it comes to artwork and I feel completely untalented when I look at his stuff.

I thought I'd post a little example.

That artwork is made entirely from the words I Love And Forgive Myself.

(You can view more of his artwork here.)

I like the positive message he chooses to build his art on.

I kinda like him period.

There are always things, material items in life that we want. My list follows:

-new glasses

(actually, I'd take laser eye surgery over new glasses but I can't do it yet)

-a good camera to get back into my photography

-a motorcycle

(hopefully I'll finally be able to take the motorcycle course this year)

-a frame for my bed

(seriously, how much longer am I going to leave the mattresses on the floor)

-a hutch for the kitchen

-a sound system for the living room

-an iPod classic

I guess it's not too long of a list and a lot of those things are doable.

My parents taught me many life lessons and beliefs, but one of the main things was the evil of gathering too many material possessions and making them more important than the people in your life.

It's definitely a fair point. So much of our society is dedicated to self gratification--seeing something we want and taking it regardless of how much it will cost us in the future.

Thus, we're a society that lives in debt (totally speaking for myself) and we haven't learned how to wait...how to be patient.

That reminds me of one of my co-workers from my Second Cup days. She was an older lady who mothered all of us. Her name was Sue; her work name was Mama Sue. She was basically a second mother to me for two years. When I went through a time of withdrawal and a period of depression, she didn't press me for reasons why I was so different and cold...she waited for me to slowly come back to myself, with acceptance and love. She is basically an ideal mother.

Anyway, she would constantly say to me over and over again "good things come to those who wait". I think it was her life adage or mantra. She said it so often and so convincingly, I started believing it. Even though a part of me doubted that she was right, it had to be true... The pieces had come together for so many people around me...surely my time would come soon.

It has.

I have this crazy cat who chases you around the apartment playfully clawing at your ankles. He's also mastered the art of opening bedroom doors that are just a bit ajar and he is currently sitting on a jigsaw puzzle spread over a table, watching me contentedly. In the morning he climbs up on the bed and purrs loudly, kneading his paws happily on your body and cuddling with you.

Then there's the newest addition, a large and sensitive dog that follows me anxiously around the apartment, as though he fears loneliness and separation. I think he just might be the dog version of me. He's settled on a blanket in the living room, his head facing my way, his long gangly legs outstretched across the floor. We went for a run for the first time tonight and he barely moved his legs while I panted beside him.

My sister is out right now and I'm waiting for her to come home before I head to bed. I can't sleep without someone in the apartment. I'm so used to noise and people that it's hard to settle under the covers by myself; it feels lonely and cold. She has the strangest habits and mannerisms but I love spending time with her and talking to her. She swears at the animals as she trips over them running around her and under her feet, but I've caught her sneaking a cuddle with Mr Cat and talking to Licorice as though he can talk back.

Those are three things that mean more to me than the list of "wants" I posted at the beginning of this blog. I think it boils down to this--do you appreciate the things that you have right in front of you?

In the inspirational words of T.I. (who woulda thought?):

Everybody right here, what you need to do is be thankful for the life you got. Stop looking at what you ain't got and start being thankful for what you do got.

Peace and love.

P.S. Dug up this old photo of Sue and I. Ah the memories.

craziness AND happiness! yes!

My boyfriend (wow, it still feels so weird to call him that or think of myself as in an official relationship) is the nicest and sweetest person ever. Yesterday he texted me in the afternoon and told me he was getting another tattoo on his leg. I replied a couple hours later with a "can't wait to see it lalala *supportive girlfriend*".

Then I didn't hear from him for hours following. He's always good about replying to my texts, even if it's just with a "thinking of you, babe" (swoon when he calls me "babe"/it's so cute) or a "xoxo".

So when I didn't get any reply for a few hours, I got a bit worried and then pissed. Why oh why? Such a waste of emotional energy, something I'm still learning. I guess it all boils down to lack of trust. Not that I would ever suspect him of cheating--he's such an honest and open person. Honestly, it comes from a lack of security on my part.

I'm constantly wondering why he wants to be with me, convinced he can do better and he'll realize that any day now. It's a silly and stupid way to think, because he's told me over and over again that he loves me, has given me reasons why, has promised to stand by me, and he has never done anything that would lead me to doubt his word. It's my personal issues rearing their ugly heads.

Anyway, at 10:30 or so there's a knock on the door and Sihaam walking around in her bra and underwear tries to make a mad dash for her bedroom. "DON'T OPEN THE DOOR!" she screams dramatically and I head for the front door, assuming it's the neighbour above me complaining (again) about my music being too loud.

"NO DON'T OPEN THE DOOR!!!" she yells again and I ignore her and yank the door open, to find on my apartment doorstep the best thing ever...my boyfriend with a smile on his face that I just can't help smiling back to. Even though a part of me is still mad that he didn't text earlier, it's the best thing ever...having that person show up unexpectedly, a gift handed to you on a silver platter.

I'm more angry at the rush of relief I feel when it he shows up again. I'm angry at myself for doubting him constantly, for putting him through such an emotional rigmarole when he should be with someone who trusts him and believes everything that he says.

"How can I help you trust me more?" he asks the next morning while we're laying in bed together. The dog stirs in his crate and Mr Cat purrs in the bed with us. He's the best. Even just asking me that made me realize (all over again) what an amazing person he is.

Sometimes it feels like he's bewildered by the relationship thing, unsure of what to say or do to help me, but the fact that he tries to help me is enough. I know I'm a bit crazy (bitches be tripping, yo) but he manages to overlook that.

We sit crosslegged on the couch, eat pizza, drink screw drivers, watch Arrested Development and I feel safe and happy because he is who he is. He's smart and funny and sexy and thoughtful. I just love him and I thought everyone should know.

I'M A LUCKY GIRL!!!