February 6th, 2003

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(no subject)

Wow, I had the scariest dreams! The end of the world apocalypse kind. Floodwaters were rising, earthquakes were happening, the Eiffel Tower was in danger of collapsing, everyone was preparing for the end. It was dangerous for women to be out in the streets because men were looking for women to rape during their last few hours on earth.

I was obsessed with trying to figure out where to be when the end came. Caught between trying to get all I can out of the last little bit of time left, and being in the right place, somewhere that feels safe and loving, when the end comes.

I was with my Mom and Dad and some other family members who don't exist in my real life, in one room. We're watching the television, which is just terrifying, full of impending doom. My Dad is quoting Bible passages, trying to be comforting in a doddering Ozzy Osbourne kind of way. My Mom is pretty much all about herself, as usual. I'm worried about my sisters who are outside and in danger.

I keep going downstairs to check the front door to let them in if they come. One of them comes and is banging on the door, I keep asking her to identify herself but she won't. Finally I risk letting the mobs in and open the door. She comes in but three guys squeeze in with her. One of them is Danny Bonaduce, crazy red hair and everything. I tell them to go away, that we don't have any spare food or supplies, that a wealthy family a couple of houses away have left their house abandoned and they would do better over there.

Danny and his friends want to fuck me. I'm frightened at first and then I think, what the hell, I'll let him screw me, get it over with, and then they'll go away. I won't have sex with his friends though. He's okay with this arrangement and I feel relieved, as long as I don't have to kiss him.

Our house opens up to a college-like semipublic area. There are lots of people milling around. They're all partying and trying to make the most of their last few hours as well. I decide to let go of my terror and run around hugging everyone and telling them that I love them. There is a nice gay couple who have adopted a baby. I kiss them both and tell them how much I love and admire them for co-parenting this child.

At different points in the dream I am free of this body I have in real life and can dance and leap. It is so wonderful to be able to do this. I can dance en pointe like a ballerina. I leap between shifting slabs of crumbling buildings and balance on one toe.

In the end, I am watching a shot of the earth from space. An enormous meteor enters our atmosphere, smashes into and knocks off the tops of three of our highest mountain tops then turns around and bounces back up into space. There is this feeling of jubilation and renewed hope, The sun is rising and everyone is overcome with emotion, joy and relief.


I think my dream-starved subconscious mind was trying to make up for lost time and had to cram all of the night's dreaming in to a few hours of sleep. Beau wanted to sleep with me last night because he was scared. His blechy friend Steven brought over the movie Halloween and they watched it.

This kid is obsessed with the series Michael Meyers, the mad serial killer from the movie series. He has the costume, the jumpsuit, the mask, the fake knife. He comes over with it sometimes, and likes to make videos with his friends, all about killing and killers, sigh. For Christmas I gave him a Make Your Own Michael Meyers model kit. He was thrilled.

I don't sleep as well when Beau sleeps with me because he's a bed and blanket hogger and all of the animals upset him. I worry he'll whack one in his sleep because they're bothering him. His puppy was whining and scratching at the bathroom door for ages, so I finally gave up and let her come in to sleep with us. Then I worried about rolling over on her or one of the cats scratching her. The dogs were barking because we moved half of the rabbit hutches over to their side of the yard when my fussy neighbor's complained of bunny thumping noises. The light from Beau's room, the one he keeps on all night, was shining in my eyes. And the worst was the sound the rabbits were making in the patio. It went on for hours and I kept thinking, "Wow, no wonder the neighbor's are so upset." It was this slam clack clack kind of sound. And then they'd squeal.

Finally at around five-thirty in the morning I went downstairs and out to the patio to see what was going on. There, to my complete surprise, was this bizarre cage thing that Irma had jimmied together, to hold the three rabbits we had just brought home from the hospital. I am at a loss as to how to explain it to you, except to say that it was unbelievably lame. She had taken one cage and tried to separate it into three parts using the tops of plastic shoe boxes. Of course the bunnies had broken down all of the stupid plastic walls and were stuck, hopping around and fighting, in one super small area. Great! In trying to accommodate my pain-in-the-butt neighbors I had made things worse and kept all of us up all night.

It was so cold. So I did the best I could to separate two of the rabbits, grabbed one of them, and ran back upstairs. Poor, poor bunny. I didn't know what to do with him, and I was so tired and mad. Finally I kicked the puppy out of her little house, put the bunny in there, and stuck him in the shower with the other bunny.

Oh and the puppy, Beau's new puppy Ali, has tonsillitis. Why do I constantly do this to myself, overload my life with animal responsibility? It's driving us all mad, really it is, and I am completely unable to do anything about it. Today I'm going to have to buy some more cages and see if any of the pet stores will take small adult bunnies. Fush Buck.

Tomorrow I have to face my Mother, her secretary, and money issues. I dread doing this. She is such a scare monger and is so shaming. She says things like, "Well, I don't know, if you keep spending at the rate you're spending, we'll have to sell your house and you'll have to go live in the forest in a tent or something." think she actually thinks this will happen. She seriously has no concept of how insane she sounds. I'm sure this must be part of why I had such frightenening, end of the world, dreams.

Tomorrow after our lovely money meeting, if I am well enough, I am going to flee the city for Ventura. I am desperate for some contact with the sea.
Chalkboard

Divorce Is Painful, No Duh.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, I had to call my ex again and leave a message begging him to sign the darned divorce papers, and to fill out his financial paperwork and send it in. It's just so painful. I hate doing this. He does everything possible to stall and make things harder for me.

With all of my Catholic indoctrination, and the fact that I really truly loved him for most of my adult life, it is very hard to reason with myself and get this done, let alone, having to come up against his laziness and stall tactics and my useless greedy attorney. My mind wants this over with, but even though I am no longer in love with him, and I know he is absolutely not right for me, it's still super hard to do. I thought we would grow old together. He was my whole world for so long. Knowing now in retrospect that he wasn't remotely good enough for me, doesn't make it any easier. Loving Scott doesn't make it any easier. It just hurts.

I really think there is a part of him that hopes I'll die so he can come and live in my house and take over. I need to get all of this settled before my surgery in March because if anything does happen to me I want it all to work out for the good of Beau and Scott and the cats. Not for the good of my ex who treated me like shit for years and years, and his family, or more specifically his mother, who hates me. It would kill my parents if everything they worked for all their lives wound up somehow going to him.
Chalkboard

(no subject)

Funny, I just got into a silly IM conversation with a stranger. I never answer IMs because well, they always turn out badly. They're usually newbies, (I haven't used that word in years), trolling for a quick sexual fix or some teenager using Mom's account. Everyone I know gives me a hard time for continuing to use AOL. But even though I had an account with The Well years ago, and could use Explorer, I like it because I'm used to it, it's easy even though it's lame.

What I really hate though are the message boards and the chat rooms. Any time I feel upset about something and am motivated to go commune with like minded people I wind up being disappointed and sad about having done so. It's always a huge mistake. And of course I forget to use a different account so my box won't overflow with porn mail and ads for cock size fixers. Bleh.

Anyway this guy IMd me and I thought, well, it might be one of my friends from Live Journal, so I looked up his profile. He wrote that he was a fireman and he seemed nice, so I answered. I figure anyone who looks up my profile can easily hop on over to my journal and find out anything there is to know about me from there, so if they write to me, they must know a bit about me. Anyway we had this one sided conversation for a few minutes where I raved about firemen and our local fire station, told him I hoped Trista from The Bachelorette would hook up with the sweet fireman from Vail, etc., etc., and then he did the usual age check thing. I told him my age thinking, oh no, this is so obviously a guy looking for a quick sex chat, and I was so over that whole cyber sex stupidness years ago. Seriously, YEARS AGO! I told him that I never respond to IMs because they're usually from trolls and jerks and he wrote back and said he was not a jerk. He wrote back that my age is a good age, whatever, then he asked me for a hug, told me I was sexy, and then asked me my age again, so I shut him down with a, "Look, you sound like you're trolling for gals, and I have a boyfriend, I'm too old for you and I'm overweight. I'm prolly better as friendship material," and guess who never wrote back? Argh. Why did I set myself up? I hate IMing with strangers.