Friday, March 10, 2006

fucked up dreams holy shit

Having a weird day, and mixing in an hour of Kurt Vonnegut before bed, and less caffeine than usual, make for some fucked up dreams. Perfectly consious dreams no less. I'm not sure how to explain it, but while I was dreaming I felt perfectly 100% awake and aware of my surroundings and the time, and what I was feeling, and how cold I was etc etc etc.

This one sticks out in my mind. There's been a series of dreams like this for the past 2 hours.

I was waiting for Mike at Giant. My grandmother was there inside...working, no less. She said that everytime we're in Giant Frank makes some joke saying he's shocked my boyfriend hasn't bent me over that counter. (frank's mom) She said that she didn't want us having sex in the house (even though we were just talking about sex at the grocery store...) cause she wasn't always around and wanted to make sure that she could trust us. That they're remodeling the house and she's going to be in and house and she really just doesn't want anything unchristian happening. She doesn't want any heathen great-grandchildren. I said "I haven't slept with anybody." and left off the quantifier of "in quite sometime."

So I grabed my Sobe No Fear, and walked outside. While waiting for Mike I walked past this car. This guy with bright orange hair....like ORANGE long and wiery fucking hair was bending over getting something out of his trunk. He twists up, and twists his head an an unnatural way, and his eyes get wide and kind of crazy and through his bright orange mustache, "Hey there WOMAN. I want to make a blood donation in light of your bad heart" and I start to walk away, and he pulls out an IV. I keep backing away, thinking "Where the fuck is Mike?"

My dream flashes to his dad's house. Mike's car is on a lift in the garage and he and his dad are underneith it and someone was asking me how long Mike and I have been together. I said "I'm not sure we're even officially dating. I just know we act like we're together, and as long as he's in the picture, I'm not going to be with anybody else."

Then it flashes back to Giant. And I open my new cell phone inside my pocket (I was wearing the same clothes I was wearing today) and dialed 911, and I wrapped my fingers more tightly around my mace, and then he keeps walking towards me with his eyes wide and head tilted like Stewie's from Family Guy and says to me, "I hope you don't mind if my donation is a little unprotected" and he holds up a broken condom. IN MY DREAM I think to meself "I should grab that knife of Frank's from under my mattress, but it's obvious I'm kind of out of my mind right now, and the other part of my mind would cut me." And then I wake up and think "I gotta get out of this bed."


One of the odd things is that in my dreams, at least tonight, they're silent, except for the small bits of dialogue. That is abnormal for me. There's usually noise. Rain, racheting screwdrivers, paper moving, wind, whatever is going on has noise. Just like real life. But not tonight.

Now I understand why I'm thinking of each of these things. The guy w/ the IV is because they've been taking lots of blood from me. - why he looked like he wants to rape me, I don't know. Maybe on a subconsious level I feel unattractive physically and sexually undesired and feel the only way I'm going to get laid in the near future is if I'm raped. I dunno. - The condom is because earlier in the shower I was thinking about how I have to have a pregnancy test done before my surgery. The head tilt because I was watching Family Guy earlier. Outside of Giant because that's where I was earlier. Waiting for Mike because I did that earlier. GG working @ Giant because she keeps telling me that I should work there...if she likes the place so much, then why doesn't she, ehn? The bright orange hair because I was thinking about my birth dad earlier and he used to have bright orange hair.

Being bent over the counter because...okay, this is a bit of an explaination:

There's this guy we know named Gary Cole. He went to school with Frank's mom. He goes into A+ when Mike is working and loiters and talks about how money is being depreciated and a dollar is only worth 10 cents and then how a dollar is only worth a penny for about an hour and a half. Mike's former roomate is working there and Gary absolutely hates the two of them. Not sure why he hates Mike aside from the fact that Mike is very vocal about thinking he's a retard. Isaac because Isaac turns up the music that Gary hates when Gary walks in the door and bitches about it. Well, earlier Mike was telling me that Gary said to him "So uh I hear you have a new girlfriend now. Uh, yeah, she tells me that she's your girlfriend" meaning me. "Uh, yeah, it's not word of mouth cause she told me that she's your girlfriend. I don't approve, but whatever. If you wanna get drunk and fuck girls in the back room go right ahead" And Mike's like "back room?" "I didn't say anything about the back room. Screw the back room. Do it right here on the counter. It's easy enough. Just bend her over. If you wanna get drunk and fuck girls that's your business. Better you than me."

Now I'm not positive I got the wording on Gary's statments right, but that's pretty damned close.

Furthermore, tonight the shadows in my room look different from usual. AND it's a lot brighter than usual. It's usually very dark, but it wasn't. And I keep going to sleep and forgetting things. It's sort of like I have been blacking out. It's weird. I remember putting down "Timequake" and I remember lying down trying to get comfortable. I also remember the light being on for this. 10 minutes later, my eyes fly open and I am flipping out because my light is off and I don't recall doing that. I still don't recall doing it. It bothers me. The shadows have been weird and creepy. I look towards my closet and there's the shadow of a person on my ceiling, and he is moving a little bit. It's weird.

The really weird part is that while this is one of the strangest nights I've had trying to fall asleep, I completely understand every aspect of my dream. Every little bit. I do. That's not normal for me, and while I feel sort of out of my head, I feel perfectly in my element at the same time. I dunno. Fuck it. This just sucks...a lot. I'm very tired.

Odd night....it really is....And every time I woke up, I started to fall back asleep, and I kept thinking - while I was half awake/half asleep: "sleep isn't good....I'm out of my mind right now......." or "why is that person on my ceiling staring at me?" "am I'm sure I'm alone in here? Doesn't matter...just go to sleep....if someone kills me while I'm sleeping, hey...I'm dead. And if I'm not, I'll be rested. This can only be a good situation...someone can try to kill me....but my new cell phone has anti-theft protection...i can kick some ass....am I sure I turned off my light? who turned off my light?"

This is the most insane I've felt in a very long time. I wish I could describe it more accurately. Gonna attempt this sleep thing again though....

Oh, and let it be noted that I *never* talk to Gary Cole about anything, let alone telling him I'm Mike's girlfriend.

Thursday, March 09, 2006

jokes of the day

Once there was this guy, and he was driving in his car, and all
of a sudden, he sees the Easter Bunny hopping on the road.
Well, he was going too fast, and he didn't hit the brakes in
time, so he hit the Easter Bunny.

He was really upset, and was thinking, "Oh no, what about all
those poor little kids?? What can I do!?" Then, a blonde drove
up in her car, and asked, "What's wrong?" "I hit the Easter
Bunny!!" said the guy. "Oh, I know what to do," said the
blonde, and she went into her car, got a can, and sprayed the
Easter Bunny with it.

A few minutes later, the Easter Bunny got up, hopped a little
bit, turned around and waved, hopped a little, turned around
and waved, and it kept doing that. When the Easter Bunny was
out of sight, the guy turned to the blonde and asked, "Wow, I'm
dying to know what was in that can!!"

"Oh," said the blonde, "It was hair spray. It says, 'Spray on
dead hair for permanent wave.'"
____________________________

There are three guys stranded on their boat in the middle of
the ocean. The next morning they wash up on the shore of some
canibal indians that make boats out of thier skins.When the
three guys get there the indians give them each three
wishes. The first guy wishes for a huge Christmas-like dinner.So
he gets one . Then they eat him.The second guy wishes for
nothing.So they eat him too. Then the last guy wishes for a
fork. So they give him a fork. Then he stabs himself to
death. Right before he dies he says "I hope your boat sinks."

Wednesday, March 08, 2006

I hate my fucking profession holy fuck

I am so fucking tired of being critisized for what I do. I mean really. This guy is offering web services "dirt cheap" and it's degrading. It really is. What he is offering is really....just....crap. It really is, and it is making the internet ugly...sites like that bring down the entire fucking profession. And I said so, and this other guy yells at ME bitching about MY site using FRAMES. I'm so fucking tired of being judged in my line of work. I really am. I am tired of justifying what I do and the way I do it to people who have shitty web skills. I have seriously considered bagging the whole thing just because I don't want to deal with this shit anymore. I shouldn't have to explain why I do what I do. And yah, frames may not be unique, but fuck. They work, and it saves a lot of goddamn time updating the site when you need to go change the fucking navigation. I dread changing the navigation for www.hardlight.org every time I change it because I have to change every single page on the entire goddamn website and that's a pain in the ass.

I'm so frusterated right now. I really am. I'm so tired of this shit. Ever since I started I've been getting bitched at by all sorts of people for what I do and why I do it. I'm seriously considering scrapping the whole deal.

Fucking assholes. You know my sites may not be the best sites on the internet. They may not be the most creative, but at least I found something I enjoy doing that also provides a little bit of income. That's more than a lot of people ever find in life.

SCOTT TRAVIS TURNEY

Age 24, died unexpectedly on a hike up Atalaya Mountain on Sunday,
March 5, 2006.

Scott was an avid outdoor person and spent much of his free time
exploring its beauty and absorbing its peace.

Scott attended Santa Fe Community College where he had earned an
Associates Degree. In the coming fall, he was planning to continue his
education and love of philosophy and religion at the University of
Washington.

Scott is survived by his parents: Tom and Pat Turney of Santa Fe;
grandparents: Mary Turney of Santa Fe and Lloyd and Julia Melick of
Placitas; and many aunts, uncles and cousins. He also leaves behind his
cherished and loving girlfriend, Hayley Waller.

Arrangements are pending under the direction of Berardinelli Family
Funeral Service, 1399 Luisa Street, Santa Fe NM 87505. 984-8600.

fuck

I didn't believe it's true. I wouldn't let myself believe it....Not whole heartedly.... but here it is.

http://www.freenewmexican.com/news/40446.html
Death Notices, 03/08/2006

print | email this story

By THE NEW MEXICAN
March 8, 2006

Epimenio D. Baca, 49, Santa Fe, Feb. 24

Michael J. Maloof, 75, March 5

Dorace McKibben, 100, Feb. 22

Frankie P. Montoya, 57

Pete A. Sanchez, 88, March 4

Scott T. Turney, 24, March 5

Eloy G. Vigil, 56, March 5

Elvira G. Zapata, 91, March 5

Tuesday, March 07, 2006

whoa

I went to K-Mart earlier. Looking for a lamp to replace mine as it keeps blowing bulbs. I get back and GG tells me that Edward called. Edward wasn't calling to argue. Actually he was calling to tell me that someone I know died. Scott. I just....I can't believe it. I'm stunned. We were actually kind of close. I know all these things about him. Dreams, feelings, thoughts. Perspectives. He was hiking and died of an unknown heart problem.

I want to call him...or email him...or just go philosophise over coffee with him like we used to do. Probably because I know that I can't.

I know it's selfish to cry when someone dies. My tears aren't for Scott. They're for me because I feel as though there's a void now....an emptiness that wasn't there before. I'm crying out of pity for myself...because of what I feel I lost. It's quite selfish, I know.

Scott wasn't much older than me. He's only 24. He's a baby. It really puts your own mortality into perspective when someone so close to you emotionally and someone so close to your age dies. He was a healthy person...well apparently not *that* healthy. But still. I honestly wonder if it wasn't the drugs that did him in. He was always doing something. Last time we talked he was popping oxy. He loved to do drugs and then go hiking. He wanted to take me to Zion. Shit went down, and we never went...I kind of wish we did.

He was accepted to a university in Scotland and planned on moving there this year. Majoring in theology. That was his dream as long as I've known him. He wanted so much to know what happened next. I guess now he knows.

This cracks me up.

Bloodhound Gang....alright, absolutely terrible band. But they're catchy and funny shit no less. This song cracks me up. "Three Point One Four."

My last girlfriend didn't like me thought she might be,
Most likely a dyke she just didn't excite me,
Lefty? Yeah but that was alright,
She was hotter than the sun but she just wasn't that bright,
My mistake she was more flaky than a leper colony,
I think a wooden clothespin would have been much better company,
Ass like a donkey acting funky gave her "L" now she's a flunky,
So my love for her died quicker than a batch of Sea Monkeys,
Early bird gets the worm spread your legs or spread the word,
So what if I'm not the smartest peanut in the turd,
I'm white which goes with everything but I can come in any color,
And I'm looking for the kind of girl that reminds me of my mother,
But it's hard to find a girl with a viper tattooed on her tushy,
And how many girls do you know that can play the harmonica with their pussies?
Like em' easy and hot and sweet like a Rice Krispie Treat, gee,
You know what I really want in a girl? Me.

And this is just the best....pacman on crack.

Yo yo yo yo yo! What it is motherfuckers?
Aw shit, here comes Pac-Man.
Hey Pac-Man, what's up?
Me you bitches! I'm high on crack! Wanna freebase?
No Pac-Man drugs are bad!
Nope can't help you man.
Pussies. Whoa! Holy shit!


Monday, March 06, 2006

weekend update

Well, fuck. I don't remember much of my weekend.

Oh, Friday night I just sat around and shot the shit w/ Justin. I think that's all I did. I don't particularly remember. Uhm. Yeah, I just shot the shit all night w/ various folks.

Saturday...................... Oh, Saturday night Mike, Ashley, Manda and I went to Dani's. That was an interesting night. I went to the rink and got my brother, brought him over. Frank ended up being really sick. Poor guy. Everybody felt awful that he was so sick. I went over to Mike's after Dani's for a bit. Ike and Tanya showed up, and Nick and one of his friends. Ike got the wise idea to throw things INTO the fan. Like knives. That kind of stuff. I went to get Frank and take him home, and between the time I left, and the time I got back, apx 30 minutes, the apartment had been turned into an ice chest.

Well then Jimmy walks into Mike's room and.....yeah.

Jimmy - "I don't care if you guys are fucking or whatever. What's the number for A+?"
(it should be noted, we weren't doing anything)
Me - "Uhm, hold on, why?"
Jimmy - "Cause I need to call Isaac and apologize. He's going to kill me. Just gimme the number before I start randomly dialing people."

So I give him the number. Mike's rolling laughing his ass off. Here's the end of the conversation that we got:

Jimmy - "Isaac? Hey, it's Jimmy. Uhm....yeah. I gotta tell you something. You're gonna be mad. It should be noted, that I'm really fucking hammered. I'm calling to tell you that I broke all your Metallica CD's. I'm willing to pay for all the damages. I left $140 on your coffee table....I'm not sure why dude. I'm really hammered....well they started playing Metallica and it pissed me off.... yeah I have this no Metallica rule tonight and they broke it....yeah....every time they put one in the CD player...yeah...I took it out and snapped it. I'm paying for all the damages, don't worry. I left enough money for you to buy multiple copies of each CD I broke....no, I don't think I broke that one. Sixteen hundred dollars for a goddamn Metallica CD?! Dude it's just a fucking CD. What's wrong with you? Yes...yeah she's here. ASHLEY! YOUR BOYFRIEND WANTS TO TALK TO YOU. Yeah....okay....shut up dude, I'm paying for all the damages. I'm really drunk, and I'm sorry. I'm giving you enough money to get 2 copies of each one I broke alright? I just took massive amounts of money out of my wallet to pay for the damages."

Mike and I are laughing while this is going on. It's fucking hillarious. It should be noted that Jimmy, while broke a bunch of Metallica CD's intentionally is a great guy, and absolutely hillarious.

Then Sunday I ended up in the hospital. I went to bed, and I woke up with terrible chest pain. It was so bad that it woke me up out of a sound sleep and I was SHIVERING. I called Mike and he took me to the hospital. I wasn't going to go, but Dad reminded me that the doc said to go when it started fluttering. FOR 20 FUCKING MINUTES they wouldn't treat me. They made me do paperwork instead. 20 fucking minutes! By the time they got me back to treat me it had stopped. The doctor was a complete moron and wouldn't listen to me. I heard the nurse say to the guy who let me into the ER "She just has atrial fib. She'll be fine."

Fucking retards. I was sooooo pissed. They released me after an hour and a half.

My surgery is in the beginning of April. I talked to the woman today and they scheduled me for March 22nd. I cancelled it because my mother is taking 2 weeks off from work to fly out here and be here for the operation. She can't be here on March 22nd. So they're calling me tomorrow with a date in the beginning of April.