Jabby cuts me. He cuts me deep.

I love when Jabby gets all philosophical and stuff. And when he starts talking crazy. And when he calls me unflattering names.

So when he gets all robotically flirty with me? *swoon*

But that last line... oh Jabby! How you hurt me so.

JW: How are you today?

ME: All right I guess.

JW: How many is pain.

ME: How high is you.

JW: Over 9000.

ME: I've heard that phrase somewhere before.

JW: That et wants to go home.

ME: If I was an et I'd probably want to go home too.

JW: I am guessing no.

ME: I'm guessing watermelon. Who is correct?

JW: Your guess is correct...

ME: I SO PWN YOU!!!!!

JW: I think you're nuts.

ME: I think you're dreamy.

JW: Yes you did.

ME: Oh no you didn't.

JW: Oh yes I did.

ME: You're starting to read like a broken record.

JW: You've never heard a record.

ME: I have too!

JW: How old are you?

ME: Uh... 28. Why do you ask?

JW: I want to know.

ME: Why do you want to know?

JW: If you're Santa Claus.

ME: I'm the motherfuckin tooth fairy bitch. What of it?

JW: Some say that Berkeley is the West coast branch of the Kremlin.

ME: I say those people are idiots.

JW: Is that so.

ME: You're boring me now. Goodbye.

JW: I wonder how you took that IQ-test?

ME: With two hands tied behind my back.

JW: *gives you a nun with two sugars*.

ME: Ahhhh, Jabby! How sweet of you! You remember how I drink my nun.

JW: Do you?

ME: *gasp* Are you proposing?

JW: If I can that would be cool, but in fact I just a normal human.

ME: Wait, I can't marry a human?

JW: No, indeed you can't.

ME: Well, shit.


INTERCOM: Doctor Alien. Paging Doctor McHotty Moneypants Alien.

Various Randomness

My grandpa passed away earlier this month. I was sad and mope-y for a couple days, then, apparently, back to fairly normal. But I got a "My Condolences" card yesterday in the mail from some wonderful people and I got all teary eyed again. I'd thought about sending them a card once when they lost loved ones, but I didn't, because I let insecurities drive me to the point of non-action. I hate that about myself sometimes. Because it wouldn't have mattered what I did, it would have been the thought that counted. So I ended up doing nothing. And here they are, sending me a card and making me feel happy and shameful at the same time. How lame is that? It put me in a weird depressive funk for the night.

On a more exciting, uplifting front: I got stuck in an elevator Tuesday!

Heh heh. Get it?

Lift.

Elevator.

Up.

Ha?

Ugh.

Yeah, not that exciting really. I thought it would be. I was hoping it would be. Yes! Something interesting is happening to me! This will give me ample writing fodder! Ehhh... not so much. But I do have enough for its own blog post later.

For now though, I'm typing and working and eating breakfast. It's quite yummy too. (The breakfast, not the work, though the typing is quite the contender.) It's a Special K snack bar. They had them on sale at the grocery store so I grabbed them, knowing I wouldn't have time to grab much else on these early pre-buttcrack-of-dawn Tuesdays and Thursdays. It's a granola bar with strawberry chunks and drizzled frosting. And its an absolute divine addition to my morning coffee meal.

Me: *chomp chomp mmmmmmm chomp*

Mr. Desk Neighbor: I'll take snacks that aren't shared for 200 Bill.

Me: Bill? What happened to Alex?

Mr. Desk Neighbor: You'd have to ask Bill.

Hmmm. Ominous.

I'm clocking out for my first break, then its back to work for me. I can't just break for 15 minutes at random any more. Actual clocking in and out is now required. Commie bastards!

If I get fired for not clocking in and out for breaks correctly (which will happen if I make 20 mistakes in... 6 months I think it is. So tune back in a couple months for my 'I just got fired post!) I'll have more time for school. Which wouldn't be too horrible. But eventually I'd have to find a job. The HB is excited about a new lotto pool him and some friends started up at work. Twenty bucks a month, tons of lotto numbers, dreams and hopes abound. But I doubt we'd win before I'd have to start looking for another job. The HB might be able sugar daddy me for a month or two, but I'd have to find another job eventually.

Now THAT is a frightening thought. What in the hell kind of job could I get???

It wouldn't be anything I liked doing. Writing and finger painting and making messes and eating French fries and pole dancing and watching TV just don't seem like viable options for bill paying.

I guess I'd better be a diligent time keeper then.

One last thought before I go. Side 2 of Darren Hayes new CD This Delicate Thing We've Made is so much better than side 1. I could listen to it for hours and hours on end. And I do. After hearing early samples on his myspace page I was hesitant to buy the cd. And eventually decided not to (partly because I just never buy CD's anymore).

But there I was, standing around in Best Buy, and the HB's exuberant multi-gift-card inspired shopping spree made me feel like buying something. Boy am I so freaking glad I did. The songs up now on the myspace page are much better, especially 'On The Verge of Something'. Too bad more Side 2 songs aren't up. They're awesome.

<3 Darren Hayes

loldreamcat

I know the last post was all about dreams, but I have another one to share. It's too... weird not to. Promise I'll post something non-dreamy next time.

Okay, so... I'm on a ship, like an old-school pirate ship.

And a cat is telling me where to step because some of the floor boards are loose and he doesn't want me to fall through.

This is what the helpful kitty looked like.



Only he was orange.

So this cat is standing on its hind legs, over by the side of the ship, and he's telling me move that way one step, move forward two steps, etc. Like a puzzle.

Then the cat doesn't say anything.

And I decide to continue on my own.

As I start to step backwards I hear the cat yell "nooooooooooooo!" so I stop and look behind me. I see the cat holding onto something that is sticking up out of the suddenly-appeared-hole in the deck that's right behind me. And that something is a leg.

It looked like this:

(This is what happens when I have little sleep. And am at work a lot
later in the day than I'm used to due to a new work/school schedule.)


Where did the leg came from? Only the dream gods know.

I was about to contemplate the sudden existence of the leg when a dragon flew along and in one quick motion chomped down on the body that was connected to that leg, the body that was suddenly hanging down below the ship, which was now a floating ship in the sky without a bottom, completely exposing things underneath the deck to such big-ass predators as dragons.

Before I had time to think, "What the fu-" my alarm blasted.

At 4:00am :(

So that happened.

And frankly, the rest of the day has paled in comparison.

Why yes Johnny, I do like to rinse and repeat.

Been having some really weird dreams lately. Well, the sex dream with Johnny Depp wasn't weird. Well, okay, I guess it was a little weird considering I was nekkid while he was fully dressed. In Captain Jack Sparrow pirate garb. In the shower. With the water on. But other than that, not weird at all. It was rather FANTASTIC actually. He washed my hair. It was really nice. Then the sex part came and oh my god so did I.

Anyways...

I had one of those dreams the other day that's so real and lifelike that when you remember it you think its a memory of something that happened while you were awake.

I was sitting on the couch with the HB the other day when one of those tax commercials came on. And I remembered the conversation I had with him previously where he mentioned he was getting audited by the IRS. And I remembered telling him, "Dude, you are soooo screwed."

So I'm watching the commercial, and I remember the conversation and think, "Hey, the HB's getting audited!"

But that didn't feel right for some reason. And realization started to dawn upon my clouded mind. I turned to the HB and ask, "You never told me you were getting audited, did you?"

He looked at me strangely.

"Yeah," I said. "That's what I thought." And explained to him what I then realized had been a dream.

What kind of a boring lame ass dream is that?

I once had a similar dream that I walked by the sink and it was full of dishes. The next day, when I walked by the sink and saw that it was empty I had a moment of panic. "What the hell? I just saw the sink and it was full of dishes! Did aliens just beam up my dishes???!!!!"

That was some freaky déjà vu that wasn't really déjà vu.

Total glitch in the matrix, right?

Yeah, be scared everyone.

Last night I had at least two separate dreams that I remember. The first dream... well, I don't want to get into it. Let's just say my genitalia was deformed and it really weird-ed me out.

For the second dream I was with a group of friends and we were trying to get into a nightclub. To get in, you had to say what kind of tattoo you had and where it was located on your body (kind of like in The Virgin of Flames book I read last quarter).

Suddenly its my turn and I'm all, 'Oh, I don't have one.' And they're all 'Oh, we can't let you in'. I started to fret, not really a panic by any means, and then I remembered. Oh, I have a bee on my hip!

They didn't believe me so I had to show them. I lifted my shirt and pulled my pants down a bit. There was some awesome vine-y twisty tribal art flowing up from my crotch, up my belly and over the side of my left hip. It was black and blue and pretty cool looking. Right under my belly button, on top of the twisty tribal vines was a little cartoon bee. And while we're all looking at my stomach I thought: oh, I guess I got this other tattoo as well.

How in the hell does one forget they have a huge tribal art tattoo shooting up from their crotch? Seriously. If I was drunk when I got it, you'd think I'd notice it a couple of days later.

Anywho, I can't tell whether or not this dream was telling me I needed a bee tattoo or a crotch rocket tattoo. Or maybe a swarm of cute wittle killer bees pouring out my cootch. Now that'd be one hell of a unique tattoo.