Monday, March 21, 2011

Elqueue Rambling

No. No, I do not feel well. Not like, I feel sick, because that is just kind of normal. I am grumpy and grouchy and miserable.
I am not ready for all this daylight and sunshine. I want dark and snow and cold to keep on lasting. Maybe I can spend then summer in Antarctica - if they have internet.
My fingernails need trimming.
There. Now they are trimmed and have that uncomfortable, hard edge that takes most of a day to wear down.
Internet streaming radio is not being agreeable and nothing in my collection is interesting to me right now.
I have picked up and put back down about half a dozen books after reading the first few pages. I would sat that I want to go to the library, but I doubt I would find anything to hold my interest today.
I want to cook something, but I do not know what. Maybe I will go make some bread or something. We always have bread-makings.
Well... it is in the oven.
I had started to saute garlic, onion and rosemary for no good reason so I added it to brown rice and then an egg for good measure. Not the strangest “fried rice” I have made, but at least the house smells good.
Bread is out of the oven and cooling. Yes, I am going to have a piece. And we are definitely having sandwiches for dinner.

Things that irritate me:
When I am about to do something, then someone tells me to do that thing which I was about to do and insists that I would never do that thing if I was not constantly reminded.
“Elqueue, bring down your bathroom trash.”
“I am, Mum.”
“No you weren’t, you were going to the kitchen.”
“Yeah, to get a new liner.”
“You could have just taken it with you after bringing the trash.”
“But then I would have to go back to the bathroom and I wasn’t planning on doing that any time soon.”
“No need to be a brat about it. I was just reminding you, or it would never get done.” “Try me.” -- except I did not say that... out loud.

Similar to that is being reminded of something more than once before having the opportunity to do whatever it is.
“Don’t forget to return the library books.”
“Yeah, I’m going there tomorrow.”
“Okay, well, be sure to take your returns with you.”
“Uh... sure.”
(An hour or so later...)
“Be sure to return your library books tomorrow.”
“Would you feel better if I returned them now?”
“Don’t be a brat about it. Just put them where you won’t forget them.”
“Like, in my backpack? Where they already are?”
“That’s fine, as long as you don’t forget your backpack.”

Being told to be careful... when they really me, stop being a klutz.
“Be careful!”
“I am.”
“Then what was that noise I heard?”
“I dropped a fork in the sink.”
“Yeah, and be careful. You didn’t need to do that.”

Being told my arbitrary decisions do not make sense.
“Why did you do it that way?”
“I didn’t think it mattered.”
“It doesn’t, but that way doesn’t make sense.”
“How would you like me to do it?”
“Do it however you want, but be sensible about it.”

I asked Dad if she was like that when they lived together. He said no, but her mum was like that as long as he’d known her.
No, I do not still live with Mum - not even during the summer, like I had been. Partly for the issues listed above, but... more because I like it at home. I mean, sure, there are days Dad and I hardly talk to each other, but even then, I think we are still closer than Mum and I ever were. Sure, I love my mum and all, but I seem to relate better with my daddy.

This whole thing is probably more ... personal than I want to post, so I am not sure I am going to.

Oh. Looks like I am going to.

Thursday, March 17, 2011

I should probably avoid television

I think that I should probably avoid television all together.

This morning my dream was something like this. I was going to a cooking class. Okay, not a big deal. It was taking place at this one general merchandise store that I am familiar with. That too was comfortable and familiar. It was like the 5th or 6th class and it seemed like there were one or two more. It was not that important to me at the time, you know? Just another class. So, we were over in this one corner of the store, all partitioned off with fixtures - those store shelves that they have, you know the ones.
I was well and truly the youngest person in the class - most were in their 20's or 30's, but I was the only one under 23. Not sure why I knew that, but I did. On this day, I brought my chefs jacket. I have one, white with black at the seams/trim and my name on it and everything - Elqueue. There was some trepidation about wearing it though - afraid the instructor would find it pretentious. See, the instructor was (the) Chef Ramsay. Today (this class) however was "cake" day and so he was handing off the class to another chef - or baker, rather. He took one look at me in my jacket, tugged his strait like he does, said, "Right, and so I leave you with (baker's name - I didn't catch it - John or something.) Good luck with your... cakes," and did that little nod that he does like he is withholding comment.

It was really weird, him looking at me, seeming to have some kind of comment in mind, but holding it back. I have no idea what he was thinking. There was another student with a chef's jacket that for whatever reason had not worn before today, but when he saw the way Chef looked at me, just left it off.

That was where I woke up... having sleep-walked into the kitchen.

There are any number of cliche notions on possible interpretations, but... it was just... weird.

Take care, and "happy St Patty's day."

Sunday, March 13, 2011

Sunday Morning Bad Dream

At some point during the night, I dreamed that I murdered one of my neighbors. Not the first time that I dreamed something like that, but hey, this time was different.

I dreamed that I was /going/ to do it, then that I /had/ done it, but I did not dream the part where I actually hacked him to pieces with an ax. What the dream seemed to center on most was that there was so much evidence against me, there was so much investigation around me, but there was like absolutely no memory of me doing it, nor any motive for me to have done it. Claire knew I did it, but was like, supporting me. I did not want Mom to find out that I had done it. Dad was fairly indifferent to him being dead, but did not think that I did it, or at least was supporting my claim of innocence. (Although I do not remember dreaming that I ever said one way or another that I did it.)

So, I was sure that I had done it. From the circumstances, so was Claire, but she was answering questions to say that I had not. Dad, unlike Claire, seemed to be just presuming my innocence. If he actually thought otherwise, he never said.

So, I would wake up in a panic, worried about the step in the investigation, wander about the house until I fell asleep again, then dream the next part of the investigation, and so on.

I am typing this out now, if for nothing else, to convince myself that it was just a dream. Today is just the day after yesterday. Yesterday, no one was investigating me for murder. The dream spanned several days, so there is not enough time in the before until now for this to have actually have happened.

So - surely it is a dream.

Unless they find my neighbor hacked to pieces with an ax and the whole dream was just my fears for the days to come.

I hope. I mean, surely, it was just a dream. I will feel better after I see the guy out and about.

Take care.


Saturday Morning's Weird Dream

So... Saturday morning I had a weird dream and I was not going to post it because the principle emotion was frustration and I do not care so much for that.

Here is what I remember from the dream:
I was on this reality tv show contest thing akin to Face Off - but also like that Stan Lee Next Superhero one. I was supposed to create a character. I had two, but I realized later that this was not a good thing - it only meant that I could not decide.

The first one, as I was trying to explain in the dream, was dark - charcoal grey and the suit was somewhere between batman, cat woman, and princess from gatchaman. I was trying to explain the character in the dream, but everything just came up short - like I was not getting anything finished because I could not pick something and stick with it. In short, the character was not well defined.

The second was the polar opposite (mostly) being near white, ethereal, gossamer-esque, even though the costume pattern was mostly similar to the dark one.

Same issue with underdevelopment as with the first.

I think in the dream they had names, but I could not remember them when I woke up. It was just so weird, with this feeling of "I don't even deserve to be here and I am letting everyone down." But more than that depressed feeling was the frustration that I /knew/ and /understood/ these characters better than I could actually explain. I could not adequately explain them to the judges, or even to myself.

So, I was not going to post about this dream, but I had another emotionally disturbing one this morning and so I decided to post them - to maybe get them out there so I can move on.

Monday, March 7, 2011

The three things amusing in Shaun of the Dead

There are precisely three amusing things in/about Shaun of the Dead.

1) These lines:
Shaun: David, kill the Queen!
David: What?
Shaun: The jukebox!

2) The fact that they never explain what caused it.

3) Sorting through the record collection for albums suitable for tossing at "the assailants".

Runners up because I like lists of fifteen:

4) The front door running gag.

5) The random jukebox's song choice.

6) These lines:
Shaun: [about Ed] He's not my boyfriend!
Ed: [handing beer to Shaun] It might be a bit warm, the cooler's off.
Shaun: Thanks, babe.

7) The channel-changing to complete the sentence.

8) The "assailant" moaning in time to White Lines.

That is it. I cannot even come up with ten.


Take Care.