Just another Friday night

Last week-ish Jessica asked me to go to her apartment and let Tank, her dog, out (which means I have to walk Tank) because she hadn’t been home all day and she wasn’t going to be home until late and blah blah blah. I was in a grumpy mood so I heavily sighed okay fine (fiiihhhhnnne).

As I’m turning in to the parking lot of her complex these two people decide it’s the perfect time to cross to the other side of the parking lot but not quite cross and actually just skim the edge of the driving lane of the parking lot. Then this woman a couple buildings down walks out into the parking lot holding her dog and yelling to two new people who are also walking in the driving lane of the parking lot (no idea where they came from, I thought she was yelling at me at first). Apparently the parking lot is a popular place to congregate.

I’m not sure which reserved space is Jessica’s so I’m trying to look for a parking space without hitting any of the people wandering through the parking lot and of course there isn’t anything close except for the spot between the faded red, I have a small penis, truck and the rape van. I continued on.

Finally I park, get out of the car, quadruple lock the car, go up the stairs to her apartment, put the key in the lock, and it doesn’t work. I pull it out, look at the key, put it back in the lock, turn, and it still doesn’t work. Dammit! I only have a car key and her house key on my key chain so I know it’s the right key or maybe I didn’t get a key to her new apartment. Shit! I try it one more time and then I hear, meow. Hmmm, Jessica doesn’t have a cat. So I get out my phone to see what her apartment number is and it’s 2067. I’m at 2051. Whoopsie.

All the buildings in that stupid complex look the same so in my stress of finding a parking space I must have gone one building too far. I walk over to the “correct” building, go up the stairs, and…. it’s apartment 2063. I go back down the stairs and into the parking lot (I see the attraction now) to text Jessica.

Me: So… the people that live in 2051 have a cat and fortunately they are also not home to let it out.

Jessica: Oh man

Me: What is your apartment number?

Jessica: 2063

Me: I have it wrong in my phone.

Jessica: What did you have?

Me: I have 2067

Jessica: That’s my old one

Clearly I need to update the contacts in my phone. So I go to Jessica’s actual apartment, use the key on my key chain, gain access to her apartment and get Tank on his leash for a walk. Tank sniffs and pees on everything. I take in the grandeur of apartment life. It’s lovely.

Me: 2051 came home

Jessica: That’s good where is 2051?

Me: Next bldg down

We’re heading back to Jessica’s apartment and this scary biker looking guy (he might be very nice but I’m judging because I’m traumatized from the experience) carrying (and drinking) a big plastic jug of yellowish liquid comes over to say hi to the “little guy”. Me, “Ummm, I don’t know if he’s nice. You probably shouldn’t… ” and biker dude gives us a little wave and veers off in another direction. I could just see Tank biting this guy and him throwing the battery acid he was drinking at me and then shanking me. Fortunately we made it back to Jessica’s apartment unscathed, I locked up the dog and the apartment and headed back to the parking lot.

Me: I’m going to check on the cat in 2051 and then head home.

Jessica: Ok

She just doesn’t get me.

Maybe I should write lyrics

The first two verses were created while sitting in a mostly vacant house, waiting for movers to finish packing, and at least six hours since I had last eaten. I rummaged in my purse to see if there was any kind of snack and all I found was a little tin – containing two mints. I gave my daughter one of the mints and then annoyed her with this song for the rest of the night.

Loosely sung to the tune of “I Got You Babe” by Sonny and Cher.

(Chorus)

Mints

I’ve got two mints

I’ve got two mints

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I’ve got mints to freshen my breath

I’ve got mints to make a tasty snack

(Repeat Chorus)

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They say my breath could stop a train

I say my stomach’s grumblin’ once a-gain

(Repeat Chorus)

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Cinn-a-mon kills the stink

Choc’late makes you fuller than you’d think

(Repeat Chorus)

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I’ve got breath, it stinks so bad

But lately mints are the best meal that I’ve had

(Repeat Chorus)

Bored… on an airplane

You too? Well, here’s what I do. My daughter – or some stranger next to you – types a letter and you come up with a sentence (or three) starting with that letter. Here’s an example from a recent trip.

Q – Quickly I walked to the supermarket to buy a loaf of bread. There was a big party and they needed lots of garlic bread to go with the crab cakes and peanut butter fudge.
(That’s definitely an inside joke. )

G – Grazing the side of my head the bullet ripped by and struck the wall behind me. When did zombies start using guns?

M – Mustard splattered all over my shirt and I knew from that moment on this date was not going to go well.

Z – Zooming through outerspace, I caught a glimpse of the planet my species once called home… Earth.

F -Forever takes on a whole new meaning when you’re immortal. I didn’t want to live forever if my beloved lemur would not be there to share it with me but the vampire laws strictly prohibited inter-species relationships.

W – Weakening her grip on my arm was not going to be easy but I was going home with that clearance Coach bag if it was the last thing I did!

N – Noting the location of the nearest bathroom, I proceeded to eat the ant encrusted moose testicle.

D – Disturbing thoughts flooded my mind as I drifted off to sleep. Perhaps the double meat burrito and midnight zombie movie was a bad idea.

R – Ringing bells at midnight signaled an attack was coming from the east. I was tired and hungry but my duty was to the queen; so I set out once again to defend the castle against the evil forces beyond the wall.

E – Every year the village celebrates the new harvest with dancing and drinking in the streets, followed by vomiting and snoring in the homes.

L – Luckily I remembered to bring my worm-hole spurs so we could open the cowboy portal.

Your turn!

I’m breaking up with Tucson

I attended a conference in Tucson this week and while the conference went well – the Tucson experience did not. Getting to Tucson was the first issue. I hate driving – mostly because it’s boring so I asked DSR to ride down with me and then hitchhike home. He refused. It wasn’t a horrible drive but I did get a little punchy as I passed Picacho Peak and pondered, for quite some time, if the flat area just off the freeway was called the Picacho Peak Patio. I get bored. Anyway, as I got closer I noticed it was a really nice area leading up to the resort and I thought maybe the long drive was worth it and this will be a nice little getaway. However, as I rounded the corner and saw the actual resort I was a little concerned – it totally reminded me of the Overlook Hotel… in the desert.

But that might be a cool thing so I continued on, checked in, parked the car, and lugged my suitcase to my room. It was a great room and since I was on the ground floor, I had a patio. I had to check out the patio… maybe after a long day of conferencing I could relax on my patio with a glass of wine. I opened the curtains and saw this sign. “Caution! Snakes and Wildlife Present!”

Not only do they put a picture of a snake on the sign but it’s trying to bite your face off. I didn’t even go outside. Every morning I checked (from the safety of my room) to see if any snakes had made their way to my patio. They did not. However, on day three of my little getaway I walked out of my room and into the hallway and almost stepped on a scorpion. It was sitting (lurking) right outside my door – like it was waiting until I left so it could come in and clean the room. I wasn’t fooled. I put a flyer from the conference on top of it (I was wearing sandals) and stomped on it as hard as I could. And then I heard it scurrying under there. So I frantically stomped on it a whole bunch more and it scurried out from under the paper and into MY ROOM. As luck would have it (for the scorpion), it blended in perfectly with the carpet and it took me several seconds of spinning around in a panic in the entry way to find him. Then I had to find a killing device and since he was on the carpeted base board in the corner, my paper covering shoe stomping method wasn’t going to work (again). I find that hairspray works well in these situations, so I coated him with about 6 ounces of fragrance free hairspray. It didn’t kill him but he was stuck to the wall so I had a chance of killing him without all the scurrying. I still needed something that would get into the corner so I used the notepad holder conveniently provided by the hotel. I slammed it into the corner repeatedly while apologizing to the scorpion. “I’m sorry. I know you don’t want to die but I can’t have you in my room.”

I left a note for housekeeping – “Dead Scorpion” and an arrow pointing to the dead scorpion – so they could dispose of the remains and clean up my exterminating mess.

I’m happy to report that when I returned to my room the mess and the deceased scorpion were gone but I was still freaked out and decided this is where shoes belong when you’re under attack from wildlife.

I’m definitely requesting at least a fourth floor room if I return.

PS – I keep feeling things (hopefully imaginary) crawling on my feet while I write this.

It might just be me…

When I’m on the phone with someone and they ask, “And what was your name?”
I want to reply, “It was Kimberly but now it’s Juanita.”

Then when they ask, “Can you spell your name?”
I want to reply, “Well, no. It’s new and I don’t know how to spell it yet.”

Unless they were smart enough to not ask the previous question, then I want to reply, “Yes and I can put my shoes on the correct feet. How about you?”

Good thing I don’t say what I’m thinking… most of the time.

Snakes on a Blog

This post isn’t about a dream, this is about a waking nightmare!

Earlier this week, I stepped into the garage, hit the button to open the garage door, and saw this!

Probably larger than life snake in our garage.

I wasn’t exactly sure what it was because we currently have a rope and bungi cord stuck in a tree out front and the first time I saw them, I thought they were a snake. So I walked through the garage as far away from the possible snake as I could and made it to the driveway. At that point I confirmed it was a snake but since it totally ignored me, I wasn’t sure it was alive. I’m pretty sure the scientific method for determining the health status of wild animals is throwing rocks at them, so I did that… but only small rocks because I didn’t want to accidentally hit it and make a squish. But first I took a picture (see above) and then cropped it, so it would look like I was closer and/or the snake was bigger. Then I threw the rocks at it and it didn’t move so I conlcuded it’s 1) got nerves of steel 2) a heavy sleeper or 3) dead. Since my testing did not result in any conclusive findings, I did what any responsible researcher would do and left my findings to be confirmed with a more qualified researcher. So, I trapped the would-be actor snake faking death in the nationally recognized dunno-if-it’s-dead-snake-trapping device (pictured below) and went to work but I did send a pictorial text to DSR so he could handle the situation when he got home.

The containment device.

The non-snake-violated population would see this as an upside down trash can with two rocks on top.  It is actually a vermin certified, I don’t want to move it, in case it is alive and waiting to rear up and bite me, containment device. Snakes are sneaky like that.

This isn’t our first run in with desert dwelling belly rubbers… we had a snake in our backyard that escaped our brave screams by slithering under the house. We’re pretty sure it’s still there and growing to mammoth proportions. Maybe this is one her babies trying to make it on its own. Crap… now the mammoth snake is going to be mad and blame us. It will probably attack us in the night while we’re sleeping. (Sleeping = dreaming / See how I brought that story full cirlce?)

I wish nature would respect my boundaries… I’m thinking 10 miles from the property line is a respectful distance.

Update: The snake was in-fact dead. DSR saved us all with his 4 Iron and we can all sleep better knowing that… um, no, there’s no sleeping better. We live in the desert and these damn snakes think they have a right to warm up in our garage!

Back Flipping Belly Dancers

With Valentine’s Day in our recent past and while romance is still in the air, I thought it would be a good time to share a wedding dream. Some background info on this one… I had this dream about six months before my sister’s wedding.

ALE = my sister BWE = the groom

The dreams starts with me running late for my sister’s wedding and as an added bonus the directions she gave me are really bad so I’m also lost. As I’m driving around this run-down industrial dock area I see a tan building with several people standing outside eating hot dogs and figure that must be the place. I rush in through the “Wedding Performers Only” door and am immediately shoved down the aisle but I don’t have my flowers. There are several people at the back of the room but it’s totally disorganized and no one can find them so this really helpful policeman tosses me the flowers from his aunt’s funeral (not sure why he had those with him or why he was there but whatever). About half way down the aisle, I meet up with my assigned groomsman who thinks that rather than take my arm to lead me down the aisle he will just reach around and grab my ass. I’m not sure if this is something ALE has asked the groomsmen to do but I’m not comfortable with it so I keep trying to hook my arm through his arm but this hideous flower arrangement is stabbing me in the eye and knocking me off balance so what I actually end up doing looks like a weird square dancing routine. We finally get down the aisle and there isn’t anywhere for the attendants to stand so we all just sit down around this stage. The guests are sitting in folding chairs that were randomly strewn about and there are huge fans everywhere because the building is missing some walls and the air conditioning doesn’t work. It’s hot, everyone is complaining, and I’m still trying to figure out what to do with my flowers when the bride, ALE, makes her grand entrance. She comes walking in with the train of her dress all bunched up in her arms and shoved up to her neck, her hair is recovering from a wind tunnel encounter and I’m pretty sure she’s drunk. As she starts down the aisle this Middle Eastern music starts playing and a troupe of acrobatic, belly dancers dressed in black taffeta paint suits and silk veils come running out of hidden doorways and follow her down the aisle doing back flips. Quite entertaining. ALE makes it to the end of aisle, drops her train, and sits (falls) down on the stage. I guess the ceremony has begun because the people around me aren’t impressed and they keep talking about how the ceremony sucks. I have no idea what’s going on because I am trying to get the people around me to be quiet, get the flowers out of my eyes and turn the gigantic fan that’s right behind me the other direction because I am freezing. To top it all off, during the distraction of the belly dancing back flipping show the decorators came in and put a big dead palm tree right in front of me so now I can’t even see the ceremony. I’m not sure BWE was even there.

Then we jump to an exterior scene, ALE, a person I know in the dream but don’t know in real life and I are walking down the street. We’re not sure where we are going because ALE can’t decide if she wants to head off on her honeymoon, check-in at the reception or maybe just have a quickie with BWE but one thing she is sure about is that she needs gum. I tell her I don’t have any and she says, “That’s okay, I have this old asbestos on my teeth and I just scrape it off for chewing gum.” Then she starts scraping her two huge front teeth with her nail and when she gets a big enough wad of asbestos gum she pops it in her mouth and starts chewing. That’s when I woke myself up laughing.

I am happy to report that I was not late to my sister’s actual wedding but I was disappointed when I found out the back flipping belly dancers were not going to perform.

Why I Don’t Eat At Chick-Fil-A

So last night (well, not last night but one night) I had this dream (no this is not a speech, it’s a retelling of an actual dream) and I had to share (with my friend, in an email, the next morning). This is going to be long so get comfy. 

Disclaimer: This dream is rated R for language.

The dream begins (or the earliest point that I remember) with me looking out the front window of our house at about 2am. There are surprisingly several cars driving on our street but I’m looking for the police officer that is coming out to investigate the recent break-in. Finally he arrives and I tour him around the house. It’s a big house and he likes the layout but our furniture is a bit outdated and he thinks we could really spruce it up with some great thrift store finds and color on the walls. (Law enforcement professionals are notoriously helpful when it comes to interior design.)  I thank him and we move to the spare bedroom, this is where a lot of the damage occurred when the robbers ransacked the house and he’s concerned we may have termites (makes sense). We move on to the master bedroom – just inside the doorway is a hallway, leading to the bedroom, and in that hallway is the master bath. I notice that the door is shut and find that odd.  I open the door and say to the officer that this is the master bath but nothing was stolen or broken in this room. He sticks his head in and comments that there is a foul odor, so I lean in, tell him I can’t smell it but notice that there is a comforter in the bathtub (one of those big garden tubs) and it’s moving. Strange. Then this naked girl (she looks like an actress but I don’t know her name – really light blond curly hair, kinda round face, probably in her 30’s but she’s younger in the dream) and DSR (my husband) sit up. My heart pounds, my hands shake, and I say, “What the fuck? Get the fuck out of my house you slut!” and I shut the door. To the officer I say, “moving along”, and we proceed into the master bedroom. There is quite a bit of damage in this room and obviously some stolen items (dresser, tv, bed, etc – all are missing). The officer and I spend some time in this room – he’s writing his reports while I’m listening to see if I can tell what’s happening with DSR and the slut. The officer finishes his report, I walk him to the door and he leaves. Then I look for DSR. When I find him he’s calling a security screen door installation company and he let’s me know they will  be arriving at any moment. (It’s now morning and light out.) The screen door installation company arrives. It is a family company and consists of a husband, wife, and their three small children. They are in the kitchen discussing security screen door possibilities while I head back to the master bathroom to confront DSR.

Me: Are you fucking her?
DSR: Yes.
Me: I can’t believe this. Why? Do you love her?
DSR: No, I just wasn’t getting any at home so…
Me: You never want to have sex either so don’t blame this on me.
DSR: Yes, I do. Just the other night I even initiated it.
Me: WHAT? When?
DSR: Don’t you remember when I told you my tummy and head hurt?
Me: That’s how you initiate sex?
DSR: Yeah, you were supposed to comfort me.
Me: That’s ridiculous. I can’t believe you did this. You need to get the fuck out! How many times did you fuck her?
DSR: 24

That’s when the screen door people come down the hall and say they will come back at a better time and then leave. We follow them to the door, say goodbye and go to the kitchen. Random people are in the kitchen watching a video of me trying to mimic a dance video (a video within a video) and everyone is laughing so I start mimicking the mimicking and now it’s a video, within a video, within a dream – even my mind can’t handle that and we jump to the patio where DSR and I are once again discussing his affair, while hanging laundry on one of those metal twirly pole things (example: http://www.target.com/p/household-essentials-outdoor-dryer-steel-62×72/-/A-10437429?ref=tgt_adv_XSG10001&AFID=Google_PLA_df&LNM=%7C10437429&CPNG=home&ci_sku=10437429&ci_gpa=pla&ci_kw=).

Me: Where did you meet her?
DSR: She works at a fast food restaurant.
Me: How did you meet her?
DSR: She motioned me in to the bathroom.
(At this point in the dream, there is a flashback moment and I see the time when she motioned him to the bathroom.)
Me: How long has it been going on?
DSR: 3 months
Me: What’s her name?
DSR: I don’t know.
Me: Really? You’ve been fucking her for 3 months and you don’t know her fucking name? Which fast food restaurant is it?
DSR: Chick-Fil-A
Me: Good. I don’t eat there. How many places have you done it?
DSR: 24
Me: In our house? Well I know you did it in the bathtub! In our bed? Oh my God, you are such an asshole.

Then I storm out and start punching random walls. I figure it won’t matter because we’ve already made a claim with the insurance for the damage the robbers did and it will all get fixed. Then I see a baseball bat! I take it to the bathroom and start beating the crap out of the bathtub.

That’s when I wake up. While I’m laying there trying to emotionally recover from this very stressful dream, DSR wakes up and goes to the bathroom. When he gets back I tell him, “I just had a dream where you slept with a girl 24 times that you met at Chick-Fil-A”, and he said, “Good thing for you I don’t eat at Chick-Fil-A.”

Yep… that about sums it up.

Zombies help solve the mysteries of the universe.

For my first dream post I chose one that references my blogging hero The Bloggess (Jenny Lawson).

Last night I had a dream that was set in the future after zombies tried to take over the world but the non-zombified had overcome and were once again in control. My business in this future world was of a trader and one of my most coveted items was the tame zombie. However, as is the case of most zombie dreams, the zombies true nature could not be tamed and I had to fight my way out of a three-pronged zombie attack. The last thing I remember was holding on to one of the zombies by the foot and repeatedly jumping on his knee. The freaking knee wouldn’t break so he kept getting up and trying to bite me.

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I woke up totally freaked out but went immediately into dream analysis.

I thought, “Wow that was a freaky zombie acorn dream. Jenny Lawson would love it.”  Then I thought, “No, it was a freaky zombie unicorn dream… that’s why Jenny Lawson would love it.”  Then I thought, “Why would I say acorn when I meant unicorn? They’re nothing alike.”

Lying there, trying not to fall asleep, I started saying the words in my head, “Acorn, unicorn, a corn, uni corn.“  Then it hit me!

A corn = a single corn. Uni corn = a single corn. They mean the same thing! We never see unicorns because they turn into acorns! I’ve solved one of the great mysteries of the universe! You. Are. Welcome.

Disclaimer: I don’t remember any unicorns being in the dream.

Here we go…

Do you remember your dreams? Let me be more specific, do you remember dreams after you’ve gotten out of bed and gone to the bathroom? Well, I do and sometimes I write them down to share with others and sometimes I try desperately to forget them and wonder how in the hell my mind came up with that performance! Usually they are long and complicated filled with disjointed themes, impossible scenarios, startling revelations, and once (so far)… meat babies. Until now the only others I’ve shared my dreams with are family and friends but thanks to this blog, you too will be able to be entertained, frightened, and/or amused by the insanity that swirls around my brain during REM sleep. I currently have a backlog of dreams stashed away that I will doll out while the weird factory in my head churns out new products. However, I may supplement with original song lyrics, slogans for a pretend family business, fake letters, or short stories not originated in dreamland – you just never know.  Anyway, here goes… let’s see where it leads us.