Ah...

I have some sleeping issues - I tend to dream heavily and realistically which causes me to wake up repeatedly. I also have a hard time falling asleep and often, when I wake up in the morning, I won't be able to fall back asleep. I spend quite a lot of time in bed preparing to sleep or hoping for sleep.

Last night, I had a really good sleep. My dreams were unusually good. One involved the most satisfying sort of confrontation. I said what I needed to say and it just felt like release. The outcome of the confrontation wasn't what I would call resolution, but the confrontation itself just felt good. I also had a distinctly separate slumber party dream that ended in the most perfect hand-hold ever. So satisfying.

Only in dreams...

My sleeping patterns have been really strange over the past month. I've found myself waking a lot in the middle of the night. And having issues falling back asleep. I've also been having the most realistic and vivid dreams I've ever had. Two in particular which haunted me the next day.

The first was a few weeks ago and in it I was pregnant. I know most women have pregnant dreams...and I also know there is no way I could be pregnant. But I woke up feeling pregnant. And I continually found myself thinking back to that dream. And while I don't have any idea what it feels like to be pregnant, it sure felt real...that dream was creepy.

And then last night...last night was intense. It was a fight...a fight that exploded into a kiss. The jealousy was uncomfortable, the anger releasing, the hatred righteous and the lust strong. It was quite tasty in general. And all those feelings are still sitting in my belly...it was so realistic that I feel the fall-out the next day.

This is all interesting to me in a dozen ways. And I have theories as to why my sleep patterns have changed...and why I had a baby with no father....and why I had that explosive kiss with a particular person. And for 2008 I want those theories to no longer be possibilities. I want them to be fact. Or complete fiction.

2008 will be the year that doesn't suck ass (courtesy of Al).
Or for me, the year of action over analysis.

I am about to bitch...

Take cover.

It has not been the best day. It started badly with the alarm jarring me from a truly desperate and hopeless dream. I cannot explain it without it sounding funny. So giggle if you want, but it was truly frightening and sad. I woke up with a feeling of utter despair. Quick synopsis:

I was living at my Mom's. Something terrifying was in the basement (murderer? monster?). The cat, Allie, who sadly is no longer around in real life, was totally funky and I suspected, in the dream, beaten/terrorized by scary basement lurker. The Mom then told me she'd been lying to me and listed off a number of family deaths I didn't know about. At which point I decided to run away from my family and never speak to them again (this is where I felt despair). On a bike. A pink and purple bike from my youth. And I prepared by packing cookies and goldfish and trying to figure out exactly how I was going to sleep during my journey. The sleeping situation again brought about a feeling of despair. It was horrible.

Then, I got to work. I have a coworker whom I am having a hard time working next to more and more each week. His cubicle is behind me. We share a cube wall. One day last week he clipped his nails for 10 minutes (I can't imagine that he didn't do his toes. He had to have. How can it take you 10 minutes to clip your finger nails?). The sound of clipping makes me nauseous unless it's my own. I've had this argument with my brother before when I was living at home actually. Today...today he went a step farther and had very loud, smelly gas. Quite a few times. Audibly. And this wasn't just generic fart smell, this was: something is wrong with my stomach and I am rotting inside fart smell. It was horrible.

Realized in the middle of the day that the case analysis I wrote, which I thought had to be two pages, had to be 3. Didn't do anything about it and expect a grade reflecting my half a page shortcoming.

Got home to cat puke.

Now I'm going to bed.

Onlooker...

Last night I had a delicious dream involving guacamole, chocolate, San Francisco, a tour bus, dancing and Justin Timberlake. Make of that what you will....I awoke this morning in a really good mood.

I got home from a profitable errand (yet costly - I now have a cat-puke free comforter) to Details Magazine with Harry Potter...er...Dan Radcliffe on it. One of the things I had discussed with good friend, Harry Potter lover, med student Janet was the fact that it is slightly pervy to be attracted to the Harry Potter boys (Ron and Harry mostly) but that I am. They are lovable. I can't help it. And our point was - at least they are legal now. However, if I dated an 18 year old that would be nuts. NUTS. Anyway, then came Details. And Dan with facial hair trying to be a model is slightly comical, but attractive, yes?:



And look at those eyes. Doesn't he look like a grown up? For your consideration, I submit an almost identical (and yet really disturbing) shot that was inside the mag:



For some reason I keep thinking he looks slightly feminine here. Even with the leather vest that shows off his man hair. Or the crazy, weedy eyebrows. He's sort of pretty, no? Anyway, I like the cover better. I just thought I would share Harry as man. Just be glad I didn't post those naked shots of him from Equus, you know, the full frontal ones that are floating out there on the web...

To think to dream...

I think one of my problems (and one of my assets) is my active imagination. This is probably why I like to read so much, because I become immersed in my imaginary book world. And I have the unfortunate habit of crafting fairly elaborate daydreams. I don't daydream much at work or when watching TV or doing stuff around the house. But I do daydream right when I wake up (and usually on the walk to work) and right before I go to bed. I often wonder...if I wasn't so involved in my books/daydreams would I be more prone to real-life activity?

I don't know how many of you daydream out there, but sometimes my little storylines aren't particularly happy (you'd think I'd craft love stories or happy friend stories always). And I can't decide if that makes me masochistic. And, since I don't generally daydream about other people's tragedies or happy endings, does that mean I'm a narcissist as well? And worrying about what my own daydreams say about me...that sort of seems uber-narcissistic. And then writing about it on a blog that is solely about me...sort of smacks of sensational, insanely overwhelming narcissism...

Katie. Narcissist.

A letter plus flotsam...

Dear Harry Potter Lego key chain,

You have been strong during this last year of one-leggedness. You have bravely soldiered on as my mailbox key chain (even through this period of disuse). But your time has come to an end. You no longer have a mouth. Your tie is rubbing off. And your leg...well, you've been one legged for a while.

I'll miss you HP lego man...but your replacement is raring to go (Welcome wooden, Italian fish).

Love,

Katie

Flotsam:

I got LOADS of mail today. And the brilliant part is: I watched the mailman struggle up the stairs on my side of the building (it's not brilliant that she had to struggle, that sucks. Although I can't help but observe that if she didn't have 60 pounds of undelivered mail it wouldn't have been so bad). The point was: they FINALLY got so many complaints that the mailman was forced to walk around the block. It's sort of blissful to have mail....

Last night I had two sort of devastating dreams (so I'm a tidge tired). In the first, my Mom fell down the stairs while I watched. In the second, Planet Sears (yes, I know...imaginary planet) collided with the Moon and the Moon fell to Earth. My imagination was fairly vivid because watching the Moon fall to Earth was amazingly graphic and horrifying. And then it was a random assortment of scenes of myself and others dealing with the catastrophe (and at one point trying to figure out what the actual consequences had been). Not restful.

My midterm came on Sunday at noon and isn't due until next Sunday at midnight. It sort of works out better for me this way anyway since I have nothing to do this weekend.

'S all for now....

The waiting game...

That's where I feel that I am right now...firmly lodged in "the waiting game". Let's break it out into time increments, shall we?

In this minute: I'm waiting for my professor to post a midterm...a midterm that was promised to us on Wednesday, then delayed to Thursday afternoon. 9:00 pm on Thursday qualifies as night, right? Still waiting...

In this hour: I'm waiting for Luca and Abby to get married and for Neela to choose Ray. I'm also waiting to watch the end of my Tivo'd Ugly Betty and then possibly watch the Grey's Anatomy marathon (but that will probably wait until tomorrow)...

In the next 24 hours: Waiting for the midterm (hopefully not, hopefully it will be posted NOW. Ok....NOW) and then doing the midterm. Then waiting for the night when I'll go have a drink for the first time in ages (have to build up some tolerance for the Bachelorette party in July)...

In the next weekend: Waiting for the midterm to be over, to see the new family member, to get a concert ticket?

In the next months: Waiting for a friend to be in the city (yay! Congrats Kate!), waiting for the wedding, dreading the speech, waiting to cut my hair (can-not wait)

In the next years: Waiting to finally finish school (for good this time), to get a job, to buy a condo, to adopt a greyhound...

I'm sure that everyone else out there can quantify their life this way...it sort of makes it seem more manageable somehow and...somehow so far away...

A house is not a home...

Last night I had a dream that I decided I had to move, that I had to choose a different neighborhood (a more affordable neighborhood which in my dream was called Stonewater...which doesn't exist) and find an apartment. The idea was terrifying and sad. Because despite all the problems with this place (I feel like I'm constantly dealing with some issue) I love it. I love this apartment. And I've made it my home. The idea of leaving scares me. And the idea of leaving to go to another "transient" place, another rental makes me feel a little angry. Or something. Because it seems stupid to leave a place I love to go to another apartment which I will have to leave eventually anyway.

Whenever I live anywhere, I try really hard to make it feel like home as soon as I move in. I think there was only one apartment in college that didn't feel like home...and there are a ton of reasons why that was true. But it's always draining, a move. And draining to try to fit yourself into another place, to fit a home into another space....

I guess what I took out of the dream was: Condo or bust!

What I am trying to tell myself...

The dreams last night....they were especially weird. One of them involved my being some sort of a demon (?) and my body repelling itself from water (ie: I tried to jump in a pond and my limbs and body flew every which way to avoid it - by the way Mom and sister, you were both there laughing at your demon relation. Nice of you). Here's my analysis of that one: um...I'm dry. Need to drink more water.

The second one involved the end of the world (or the end of my world) due to a war and an enemy aircraft. I managed to "escape" with two boys from my high school (one of whom was my friend a long time ago and one of whom is still a sort of acquaintance thingy). We escaped to a mall where we all went our separate ways to buy the thing we always wanted. I ended up in a puppy store. Not surprising (except it would have been a nice twist if I wanted to spend my last day on earth having hot sex or something...but no. Puppies instead). My analysis: I'm a sucker for animals and I somewhere deep down will always want a dog/puppy. I will have to get one some day....

Sorry about the dream post. My brain is so taken up with finals/website crap that it's useless for other stuff.