Day Twenty-Six & Day Twenty-Seven

Well, what do you know....I missed a day again. Life, man. I was so engrossed in finishing my new podfic, that I forgot to post my journal challenge yesterday. So today you get 2. (Is anyone actually reading these anyway?)

Day Twenty-Six: Someone Who Fascinates You

Benazir Bhutto. What a woman. I remember when she was assassinated, I watched the news report and cried for long time. She was the example of a strong woman. I've read her all of her books. She is the true definition of a hero. What she accomplished in her too short life...like whoa. Don't think I need to say much more. But if I could have dinner with anyone dead or alive, I'd choose her, and hug her, and thank her for making an impact on me and the world and Pakistan.

Day Twenty-Seven: 3 Confessions

1. I have a scrapbook of wedding things. Although I'm not convinced I'll ever get married. I made it back in the day when it was a possibility. My colors were black, white, red. The wedding dress I picked out was red with black trimming. My veil was black. The food was from the Frida Kahlo cookbook. It would've been a kick-ass party.

2. I almost died a couple of years ago. I had weight-loss surgery because I thought I couldn't do it on my own, and I got such a massive infection that I almost died because I didn't seek medical attention straight away. They had to remove my lap-band and I had a giant hole in my stomach for months afterwards that had to have a wound-vac attached to it so it could suck out my infection. It was awful. The worst time of my life. It was after my recovery that I said FUCK IT, I don't need surgery to lose weight. And I've lost 130lbs since. 

3. I'm losing my house. I bought a house a few years ago when I had a great job and it seemed everything was wonderful. Then I got laid off. And now after years of struggling to keep the house when I can no longer afford it, the bank is foreclosing on me. So yea. Awesome. But don't worry. This isn't a woe is me story. I'm okay. It's just one more curveball, I'll handle this just like I handle everything else. And perhaps it might be nice to not be in debt and be so worried all the time. Perhaps it's actually for the best.

Day Twenty-Eight: Dreams

Day Twenty-Eight: Dreams
Write about a dream you've had recently or a recurring dream you've had in your life.


I had 2 recurring dreams that started when I was younger. I don't remember the last time I dreamt either one of them, it's probably been years? So I'm not sure if that counts, but at one point in my life they happened regularly. 

The first one started when I was a young child. In the dream I'm in an underwater tank/pool of some sort. I'm dressed in a frilly blue dress (kind of like a doll outfit). I remember--even going into adulthood--that me in the dream was still a child even though I aged for the decade or so that I dreamed it. Also, it was not unusual to me that I breathed water in the dream, that part seemed natural. 
So, the tank didn't open but was large like an olympic swimming pool, and it went deep, like a hundred feet down. There was light in the water, like the surface was near, but deep enough down that I knew I couldn't swim to the top. Deep in the water there were walls that had cages attached to them. They were a prison holding other people, like me. In the dream the cage doors would open and I'd have to swim into the water and try to collect candies (Like M&Ms or Skittles) that were floating. I don't remember eating the candy, but I remember a sense of urgency to collect the candy or perhaps I wouldn't eat. Then when everyone was struggling to get the candy, sharks would be released from tubes in the walls and they would come try and eat us. I would always wake up when I was trying to get back to my cage and I had a shark coming at me. I don't remember feeling like I was caught, but I remember the panic/anxiety of thinking that I was going to die. 


My second recurring dream started when I was a teenager. The dream always started in my bedroom. I would walk a long corridor into my kitchen. Now the house I grew up in had a hallway, but this was like 10x longer in my dream. All the doors to the rooms would be closed as well, and we always left the doors open to every room in my house, so it was really eerie. When I'd get to the end of the hallway I'd have to unlock 20 or so locks on the door opening into the kitchen. When I entered the kitchen my father would be there, shirtless smoking a cigar and sitting at the breakfast nook table. He'd be on a stool, dangling his feet. I'd then ask him where the smoke in the kitchen was coming from, and he'd tell me to turn around as see for myself. When I turned, Hitler was standing at the main stove, stirring a huge vat of something cooking with a big wooden spoon. I'd go up to the vat and look down into it and see that all of my dogs were being cooked. I wouldn't see their faces, but I would see their fur twirling around in the soup. I would then wake up. (BTW, I had 7 Lhasa Apso's while I was growing up, and they were the ones in the soup).

SO there you have it. I have no idea if they mean anything, or what it says about me. But those fuckers haunted me for years and years.