Why is it that I can never remember the better dreams? I know I have them, occasionally - actually, quite often - I wake up in a condition that well, er, suffice to say that it leaves no doubt about the kind of dream I've been having.
Yet I never remember those.
The ones I do remember are traumatic, like last night.
I woke up at fourish from a horrible dream in which I was scrambling for a gun, to shoot at incoming zombies, yet all the zombies I could see were the zombified remains of my two dead dogs, in cages, on the balcony.
Through it all I wasn't scared at all, in fact it all felt weirdly "normal".
Then I went back to bed and eventually fell back asleep after a few minutes. And the worst of the dreams started, I suppose.
In this one, I had parked my old car in front of my mom's house, where I grew up. I then took out a shovel from the boot, dug up -I kid you not- my dead father's bones from an underground chamber, removed the brown, slithery, oily bones from what was essentially a wooden box frame, placed something in their stead, and replaced the bones on top.
I was in the process of filling the hole when my mom came out and told me I wasn't allowed to do that, to which I replied: "Do what, dig up dad, or bury the roof?" Pan the dream camera to the front porch of my mom's house where the front part of a triangular roof was resting against the cement wall.
Yep.
All true.
I'm not sure what the Freudian symbolism of all this is, I suppose in the dream I try to hide something by burying it, and that quite possibly it might be something that might have shocked my father.
On the other hand I'm glad that my dream didn't involve any unicorns.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Adventures in the daily train.
I stumbled onto this blog entry earlier today and made a mental note:
I too have been confronted by the bad manners of other commuters. I was raised mostly by my grandmother, she had what more or less would qualify as custody of me, unofficially of course, while I was growing up and she thought me manners. Now I'm in my late 30s and well mannered, I can say "please" and "thank you" and "good day" to people.
Even servants in restaurants, hotels, etc. I once even thanked a police officer after he gave me a speeding ticket. Granted, in the US. Still...
So it's always with some apprehension that I take the train, people don't have manners. Even older people. Yesterday, I arrived in my train a few minutes early, sat by a window, took out my Archos media player and started watching Dollhouse on it.
As I was relaxing a man came to sit next to me, and he took up, I kid you not, 2/3 of the double seat.
As if that wasn't enough, he then took out a laptop and placed it on top of a huge bag on his lap, which of course also meant he had to have his elbows up really high, right by my face.
As a result I sat there like an idiot, munched against the side of the train, in about 1/3 of the space this inconsiderate bastard next to me was taking up, watching my Archos screen with an elbow in my face. In retrospect I should've told him to go fuck himself, please.
Occasionally, very occasionally, a pretty girl will sit next to me. This is very, very rare. In fact, I don't remember the last time it happened.
In the morning I've condemned myself to sit across a lady that works in my office and happens to live in my neighbourhood, she's talkative and relatively pleasant but, consider that I enjoy watching my tv shows onto portable media devices in the train.
I'm not usually in the mood for chitchat with her.
On the other hand, there is a woman that takes the train in the evening and that disembarks at my station whom, I definitely wouldn't mind chitchatting with.
But that's also going to be improbable at best.
Incidentally, the red-head at the ice cream parlor gave me another free milkshake last Friday.
Also yesterday, as I was crossing the park in front of the Sun Life building with the chimes playing, a young girl in her twenties approached me and asked me what the sound was.
In a way, I was in a hurry to catch my train so I didn't want to start a conversation with her but part of me wanted to. She was cute, is that wrong?
I too have been confronted by the bad manners of other commuters. I was raised mostly by my grandmother, she had what more or less would qualify as custody of me, unofficially of course, while I was growing up and she thought me manners. Now I'm in my late 30s and well mannered, I can say "please" and "thank you" and "good day" to people.
Even servants in restaurants, hotels, etc. I once even thanked a police officer after he gave me a speeding ticket. Granted, in the US. Still...
So it's always with some apprehension that I take the train, people don't have manners. Even older people. Yesterday, I arrived in my train a few minutes early, sat by a window, took out my Archos media player and started watching Dollhouse on it.
As I was relaxing a man came to sit next to me, and he took up, I kid you not, 2/3 of the double seat.
As if that wasn't enough, he then took out a laptop and placed it on top of a huge bag on his lap, which of course also meant he had to have his elbows up really high, right by my face.
As a result I sat there like an idiot, munched against the side of the train, in about 1/3 of the space this inconsiderate bastard next to me was taking up, watching my Archos screen with an elbow in my face. In retrospect I should've told him to go fuck himself, please.
Occasionally, very occasionally, a pretty girl will sit next to me. This is very, very rare. In fact, I don't remember the last time it happened.
In the morning I've condemned myself to sit across a lady that works in my office and happens to live in my neighbourhood, she's talkative and relatively pleasant but, consider that I enjoy watching my tv shows onto portable media devices in the train.
I'm not usually in the mood for chitchat with her.
On the other hand, there is a woman that takes the train in the evening and that disembarks at my station whom, I definitely wouldn't mind chitchatting with.
But that's also going to be improbable at best.
Incidentally, the red-head at the ice cream parlor gave me another free milkshake last Friday.
Also yesterday, as I was crossing the park in front of the Sun Life building with the chimes playing, a young girl in her twenties approached me and asked me what the sound was.
In a way, I was in a hurry to catch my train so I didn't want to start a conversation with her but part of me wanted to. She was cute, is that wrong?
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