I had a dream last night… one of the type where everything is very dim… as though you are seeing everything through tinted glass.

It was very disturbing as well. I was with my mother at an indoor farmer’s market. We were looking at corn on the cob, but it was all withered and some looked as though it had already been eaten. The owner of the market said we could go out to the fields and pick our own if we wished, but when we went outside, everything was dead and gray, and I knew that there had been a war. Everything was sludge and death. It was horrible.

I don’t know if it was a reflection of general mood of helplessness and hopelessness in regards to my job, or if it was a prophecy of things to come. Of course, I’m currently reading the Watchmen, so that may have had something to do with it.

So, still no dreams that make any sense. I hate it when I’m too tired to remember my dreams properly. Everything’s all fuzzy/dim, and I only remember disconnected bits. I know I dreamed last night, but all I remember was someone attacking me magically and trying to steal my energy. Somehow I reversed it, and it all came flying back to me in the form of two largish squares that came looping back to attach themselves to my temples. Very odd, and very not fashionable. heh

I got home from work at five and everyone was already eating dinner. My mother bought chicken at a nearby store.

For the record, I’m a vegetarian. If I didn’t live with my family, I probably wouldn’t even eat the little meat that I do ingest. I only eat some chicken and fish. What I do eat, must be Free Range or Raised Right, or I won’t touch it.

My mother knows this, knew I wouldn’t eat it, but still made it assuming I would. Then she sits and pouts because I won’t touch it. So I ate the mashed potatoes, an ear of corn, a roll, and made myself some peas.

Everything was fine until my mom’s b-friend had to open his big mouth to bludgeon me with his overbearing opinions. He used to work in a slaughterhouse, and he still eats meat, so obviously I should too. It’s all so clear now. It doesn’t matter if the animals have a nervous system and can feel pain just like us. It doesn’t matter that animals are capable of emotional responses (not instinct) and even some thought. Hey, I don’t care if they don’t think exactly like humanity. There’s enough humans in the world, we don’t need animals thinking and acting like us too. That’d be the fast track to world destruction, thankyouverymuch. Humanity sucks… let me come back as a tree in my next life.

Then my brother had to chime in on how he likes his meat tortured because the adrenaline makes it taste so much better. Blech. Hey kid, go eat some roadkill, why don’t you.

It’s not like I’m trying to make them into vegetarians. That’d be pretty near impossible with the carnivores in my house. But at least they could respect my choices, or act like they do.

I was pretty much almost vegan for a few months one year, but my mom was constantly whining that she couldn’t cook for me any more. Not that she ever cooks so much any way. Usually they ask me what I’m making when I get home from work or I ask them what they want me to make. I’m an excellent cook, if I do say so myself, and they know it, so they usually wait till I get home to eat. I like to cook too, especially since we got the dishwasher.

It has come to that time of year, when ODed on Benadryl (because I am too poor to afford the prescription meds), I shuffle from day to day in a mental fog.

We left Friday at 4AM to visit my sister in Illinois. She’s pregnant and it was her b-day on Saturday. I was prepared for the 15 hour trip, despite the fact I knew there would be no air-conditioning. We could take the car with the working air condition, but no radio, or the car with a radio, but no air condition. Well, which would you have chosen? heh

The trip wasn’t really so bad until we got near Chicago and Aurora. We had to go through them to get to Naperville and the Fox Mall where my sister works. Then it was chaos. It was horrible, cars and semis zooming past at 90 miles per hour on five lanes and no cops to be seen. Gods, I will never ever go there again. Ever.

My allergies are Really Bad. I can stand one or two things I’m allergic to at once, but it has a cumulative affect. So when we arrived at my sister’s home, I discovered she had not only a dog, but also a cat. I’m allergic to both, but I only knew about the dog. Now take into consideration that the ragweed decided to pollinate the world over the weekend, and no matter how much my sister vacuumed before we arrived, we still had to sleep on the floor. So between the dog, the cat, the dustmites, and the pollen, and the benadryl, I would have been a good extra for any zombie movie.

I’m still very tired, and it will be a few days before most of the allergens work their way out of my system. This basically means that, though I will be sleeping more from the benadryl, I will in fact be dreaming less. That sucks. Even my scary dreams are interesting for all their weirdness.

If only I never had to leave the house and expose myself to these things that my body has decided are poisonous. I should live in a bubble. Seriously.

Oh, now I should complain about my sister and my family I suppose. She is one of the most ungrateful, whiny brats in the world. She’s never happy unless she’s complaining, and gods help you if you try to get a word in edge-wise. I’m sorry, but I’ve had enough.

That’s the real reason I won’t be going back in October when her baby’s born. She doesn’t want me there, and not being the most social person in the world, I don’t intend to impose my presence where it’s not wanted. I said one little thing about people not listening when I speak, and to paraphrase, she basically said that it was her b-day so it didn’t matter what I had to say. Want to know why I said no one listened to me? Because I asked my mom three times not to flick ashes out her window because they were just coming back through mine. Oh, so sorry, I should just sit and have ashes fly in my face? I think not.

So, because my family is so inconsiderate of my feelings, I’ve decided not to even try to include myself in their little family gatherings. If they choose to gather where I am, I suppose I’ll just have to tolerate it, but I’m not going out of my way to be social any more. What’s the use?

I’m the child with no problems. My brother and sister are the needy ones. I’m the one who gets ignored and ashes flicked in her face. I’m the one who gets snide remarks when I speak up and try to defend myself. I’m the only one who pays rent to my mother, while my mother sends my sister money and bails her out of jail and supports my dead beat brother by paying his rent and utilities. I stay in my room and avoid them, and they say I’m antisocial and snobbish. I try to be social and companionable, and they treat me like I’m in the way.

My mother told me they plan to get a new house in two years and that if I want to go with them, I’ll have to give up more rent. Why? So she can give it to my brother or sister when they need it? She told me I could leave if I wanted to. So maybe I will, but I can barely afford what I pay her now. How can I afford an apartment on what the bank pays me? I doubt she’d be as forthcoming with money for me if I needed it. I am, after all, the one who is never in trouble, and who never asks for anything.

So I don’t know what to do. When I try to be part of the family, they treat me like I’m nothing. And when I withdraw, they act like I’m the one who’s wrong. I try not to ask for anything or complain, but it’s horrible to be neglected by the people who are supposed to love you. I mean I suppose I should be grateful they’re not physically abusive, but somehow I think the neglect is worse. It’s been going on all my life. It’s probably why I have never had any close relationships… never even been out on a date. (I mean, it’s not like I’m ugly.) All the friends I have are online, and about as far away or farther than my sister.

I look everyday for a new job, one that will pay me better, but I think I’ll have to settle for finding a second job that also brings me no joy. I’m already tired all the time, and what will I do when I work all the time? I’ll never have time to write, or draw, or even be online. What’s the use in living if everything that brings you any kind of joy is gone?

Yeesh, I begin to recall why I stopped posting here (having not been able to bring up any of xanga for three days. And they expect us to want to sign up and pay for Premium blogs? Could Premium people get on or something?

Not that I had much of anything to say the first day, but it would have been nice to be able to not post if I didn’t want to…

…yah, that makes sense…

Well, I didn’t dream the night before last, so I really didn’t have anything to say then, but I dreamed the next night. A nasty one too, so if you have a weak stomach, don’t finish reading this post.

I dreamed I was spitting up maggots, but they were like super-sentient maggots and didn’t really appreciate being spat up.

At the same time, there was a shrunken submarine full of people (like in that old series.. Incredible Journey I think it was or something), passing through my chest because they had to fix something wrong with me.

So these maggots were really peeved about being spat up, and one of them pulls out this satellite/oil rig looking thing from no where (like Cartman from Southpark and that nasty anal alien contact device), which was about 1000 times larger than the maggot itself, and slaps it down in the middle of my sternum. Then it actually started drilling (but I didn’t feel anything). So I followed the drill down, and it hit the submarine. So everyone inside was drowned in blood.

It would have been really horribly nasty if I hadn’t had one of those detached POV things going on. So first I was watching the maggots spill out my mouth from a normal perspective, and then as if I was watching from somewhere around my feet, and back and forth. Then later when the drill hit the sub, I was watching from the POV of the descending drill, and then as if I was right beside the people in the sub, though not, because then I would have been all sticky with blood too. heh

I’d think maybe I was dying from the way my dreams have been going lately… if I felt in the least bit ill or in pain. But since this is my vacation, I’m feeling fine. Maybe my dreams are trying to make me feel guilty for being unproductive.

**

Last night I had a fairly normal dream. I was back at one of the places we lived in when I was a kid, but I was an adult. The police knocked on the door, saying I had side swiped a car. But to look at my car, it was half parked and looked like it had had a fatal attraction with a telephone pole. There wasn’t a scratch on me, but no one believed that I hadn’t done it.

Well this is one of my strangest dreams to date. It woke me up at 4AM too. Wouldn’t it just figure that I go on vacation and turn off my alarm clock, and then I end up waking up 2 1/2 hours before it would even have gone off.

I rarely have dreams featuring aliens, but lately, what with my newly developed Lovecraft fixation, I find I’ve had two in the past three months. While the older one was much more supernatural (maybe I’ll tell you about it some other time), the one I had last night was pure Sci-fi.

These tentacled aliens abducted a bunch of people into slavery, myself included. Apparently there was something “special” about me because there was this huge argument about what should be done with me. Some wanted to let me stay the way I was, and the others wanted to give me tentacles of my own to make me “perfect.”

So the ones that wanted to make me more like them won out, and I was on this operating table surrounded by tentacled aliens. Of course, since this was a dream, the operating table was in the middle of a tropical forest.

The doctor was making comforting small talk. You know, like “this will all be over quickly” and “this won’t hurt at all,” and then he pulls out this humungous needle and stuck it in my stomach. OUCH!! Man, it hurt! Even the tentacled alien doctors in my dreams are liars. lol

Then they removed my legs and put on tentacles instead. All this I could see remotely from outside my body. But something must have gone wrong because as soon as my new limbs were attached, I saw them lash out at the operating staff. They all ran off, and when I “woke,” I was all alone on the operating table with tentacles for legs, and various operating tools scattered around on the forest floor.

A human working for a “fifth column” type alien group showed up and took me to another alien who promised to fix me. So this new alien was making consolitory noises, and said, “Don’t worry, no one’s going to hurt you any more” as he also gave me a horrible shot in the belly to give me my legs back. Which is when I really woke up in my bed…. with a stomach ache.

But the strangest part of the dream was the fact that throughout I could hear that “Runaway” song from the 60s.

While I do sometimes dream of songs, they’re not usually from thirteen years before I was born. heh

Well, today officially started my week long vacation. I slept late (mostly because of the tylenol PM I took last night for a headache), and didn’t dream a thing (mostly because of the tylenol PM I took last night for a headache). heh

Last night I watched the new Spiderman series on MTV. It’s only the second time I’ve gotten to see it (or rather, remembered to watch it). The animation is pretty and the stories aren’t too bad… but I don’t like it. I am not impressed with computer animation. They rely too much on gimmick, and not enough on plot and character development. Just because these are comic characters and most people that watch this new series have some idea of who they are from the movie and comics, it doesn’t mean they can’t have a little creativity in how they are portrayed. And heck, I’ve only seen it twice… but don’t they ever wear anything else?

Oops, I shouldn’t say that because the characters in my own comic never change clothes… but hey, it’s not like they have extensive closet space to store a new set.

Anyway, MTV sucks since Daria was cancelled. And Sci-fi sucks since Farscape went off. And there’s no more Buffy…. Yeesh, I hardly watch TV any more. All my favorite shows are gone.

I just took the Geek Test. With a score of 49.90138%, I am a Super Geek!

Super Geek

Super Geek

I’m super Geeky!

All fear my mighty Geekiness.

But darn wouldn’t it be cool to be a Geek God???

I had the weirdest dream last night. I was a ghost, but I looked solid enough and could manipulate solid matter. Anyway, I was in this store that I’m pretty sure I visited as a child at one time or another. It was one of those quaint little places with the homey touches. There were little hanging doilies on all the shelves.

I leaned against one of the shelves, and it started rocking. No matter how I tried to steady it, it kept rolling like it had a rounded bottom. So then the whole thing came down, but it wasn’t shelving after all. It was a diverse bunch of furniture and blankets. No matter how I tried to put it back together (puzzle-like), I couldn’t get it to the way it was before it fell over.

Then I dreamed there was a spider on my head, and I knocked it in the sink and washed it down the bathroom drain. This was semi-biographical however as I found and removed a spider to the backyard earlier yesterday. See I don’t have a problem with spiders unless they go on the attack. And that dream spider had no reason to be on my head at all.

So I wonder, how many other people have had meetings at work where your boss basically told you and everyone else in the room that you’re worthless, can’t do anything right, and you’re lucky you still have jobs…

I hate my boss and my job. I’m not sure which I actually hate more. It’s a sure thing that if my boss left, I’d probably like my job a lot more, but by saying a lot more, what I really mean is, I wouldn’t feel like going home every night and summoning slobbering hoards from the Nether-reaches to invade the earth so I don’t have to go back to work the next day.

So we had this meeting the other day. I was all prepared for the usual boring reiteration of all the previous meetings I’d had to get up early and attend. But the entire hour was filled with her nonsense about how the economy is trashed right now (even though the newsletter the bank president puts out said were up another 2 mill for the quarter) and we’re lucky we don’t have a cap on raises. So we won’t be getting 5 & 6% raises anymore. It’ll be 4% or less from here on out. WTF! I just got a raise two months ago and it was 3%! What’s this 5-6% crap? They sure weren’t talking about MY raise. I don’t think I’ve ever had more than 30 or so cents added to my wage, and this time it was 23!

And basically the meeting went on like that. She gave numerous examples of other businesses where they’ve had to freeze wages or took away benefits or actually decreased wages, and then tried to play it like we should be grateful to sit in this room and be BSed like we’re senators waiting to vote on a new bill.

Then she started whining about footwear (like anyone sees our feet) and appropriate clothing. She claimed people were complaining about our end of the month Friday dress-down day (never heard anyone say a word), and that some of us were wearing sneakers or boots, or (gasp!) flip-flops. Well, I can see the point with the flip-flops; they are loud and flip-floppy, but please, some of us have foot problems. So she says with a Dr’s excuse we can wear whatever kind of shoe the Doc says. Oh? So now I’m supposed to spend $50 for a flimsy piece of paper when I could just tell them I have weak ankles and need to wear some kind of bracing shoe or boot to prevent twisting said ankles? Please! I’ll just wait till I twist my ankle at work and then it’s worker’s comp BaBY! Stupid frikkin’ bank!

And then we had donuts. Whoo! (rolls eyes)

Look when the grocery store cashier is making more than the bank teller (as per the want-ads I read EVERY Sunday), there is something decidedly wrong with the picture. I’m not saying I’m at all dishonest, but don’t you think I should be paid to STAY honest or at least accurate? Do you have any idea how much money passes through my hands every day? On a slow day, try about $10,000; on a Friday, I’ve given out as much $50,000. I’m not even counting money coming in.

Oh, and get this, at the end of the meeting, she reminds us about this free service provided by the bank as part of our benefits. Can you guess what it might be?…

A toll-free line for psychiatric help, not just for you, but the whole family! Wheeeee! I guess they figure once they’ve driven you down the road to madness you’ll take your family there for all your vacations.

So to give you an idea of some of the strange stuff that spontaneously appears in my brain once I close my eyes….

In a recent dream, I was being followed around by a zombie baby that just wanted me to pick it up and cuddle it. Well of course I didn’t want to be anywhere near the creepy little thing, but it kept following me everywhere I went throughout this deserted house.

It didn’t help that its “family” wanted it back. I tried to tell them they could have it, but the creepy little monster wouldn’t leave. I ended up holding the thing out a window by its shirt, while its “family” stood below, and threatening to drop it if they didn’t go away. (Personal note, I would never do that to a baby, zombie or otherwise).

Unfortunately, it reached out to me for a hug…. and I dropped it. I felt really bad about it too when I woke up. I would never drop a baby, even if it was the grossest, most maggoty, rotting animated corspe I’d ever seen.

I mean, I once had a dream years ago (I think I was 12) that I was naked and lost in an underground labyrinth. Around my neck, I had this zombie hand that was supposed to help me find my way out, but I ended up sitting on some dark stairs while this disembodied hand ran up and down the stairs like some kind of bald cat on catnip.

So if I could stand to have this old, green-gray hand periodically twitching as it hung from my neck as I wandered through pitch black catacombs while naked, you’d think I could stand to hug a friendly zombie baby while fully clothed!