Random Acts of Awesome

I had a real nightmare last night, for the first time in a very long while. My nightmares normally consist of a perfectly normal dream that goes on for a bit, and then suddenly BAM!, nightmare scenario. And then I wake up, almost instantly. All too often those scenarios are me being suddenly attacked out of the blue, going from happy to sheer terror in a heartbeat, and I freeze. I never have a voice in those dreams. I never scream, I never fight back. I never get to, because my body always wakes me up right away. Last night, though... last night I played it all out. And it was fascinating. It was one of those dreams where you're actually pretty sure you haven't fallen asleep yet. Your body segues seamlessly from awake to asleep, the thought you had just before falling following you into your dreams. In this case, I'd been thinking what a haunted night it was. I was alone in the house, alone in my bed. The wind was howling outside the window, and there were constant litt...

I have a wild hair 'cross my fanny about this idea. I rather desperately want to do this, right now, at this moment. I can't get the thought of strolling across the country out of my head. I'd take so many pictures, and I'd talk into a microphone and record my progressively crazier and yet awesomer thoughts. I really could do this. I try not to think about it too much, because I'm prone to the obnoxious habit of getting the mental and emotional benefits of having talked about doing something while ignoring the physical benefit of actually having done something. So, I kind of skirt around the possibility, taking a moment to think of what shoes I'd wear, then quickly going on to something else. I imagine walking out my door, down the street, and just not stopping. And then my mind skitters off and I think about work. I'm going to do this someday. Someday soon.

I went stinging nettle harvesting yesterday. It was wonderful. Tramping through the tamed wilderness that is state parks in Portland. The place we went was less than 20 minutes from my house, with trampled down paths regularly traversed by every sort of person. In order to get to the best patches of nettles, we had to leave the trails. I can not TELL you how terribly satisfying it was to do so. Every now and then I'd catch myself looking around furtively, 50ft from the trail and bent over a downed tree, yanking tender young green things from the earth with my hands encased in black leather gloves, hearing voices in the distance coming closer, and debating hiding behind the stump. People walking past (and there were many) would look at us askance, shocked at our brazen breaking the unwritten (and sometimes written) law of STAYING ON THE PATH. One set of ladies dared to call me on it, looking at me knowingly and asking if I was picking moss. I held out my plastic grocery bag full ...

It really sucks, sometimes, experiencing a story in a moment. I met a man last night who broke my heart in 15 minutes. He was a young surgical resident, and he was very, very drunk. He was sitting at the bar all alone, drinking his beer and trying to engage the people around him in conversation. I sat next to him, but promptly pulled out my phone and set to ignoring him so I could drink my single beer in peace. He boozily leaned in too close, tapped me on the arm, and said "I'm sorry for interrupting, but if you could go ANYWHERE to eat right now, where would it be?" I replied with "You're totally NOT sorry to be interrupting, and I don't know. It depends on things. Like, anywhere in the world, or anywhere around here? Are you looking for a recommendation, or starting a conversation about things we love?" "NO NO NO NO!!! I mean, yes, you're right. I'm not sorry for interrupting. But c'mon. FOOD. No excuses. Where would you go??...

1 - I'm afraid of the dark. Like, seriously afraid of the dark. I never sleep without a light on when I'm by myself, because I hate waking up alone and not immediately seeing everything around me. 2 - I'm a bit of a hypochondriac. If I start experiencing any weird symptoms, at all, my mind immediately goes to worst case scenario and I start preparing to die. 3 - I'm a little fixated on death. This one should be made obvious by #2. I think about death all the time. 4 - On my OKCupid profile, when it asks "What do you think about on a regular basis", my answer is "terrible things". It's the most honest thing on my profile. 5 - I really love broccoli. 6 - My favorite book growing up was "My side of the mountain". 7 - In related news, I carried fishing wire and hooks in my backpack from the age of 12 on. I still carry a ridiculous amount of survival gear with me. 8 - I love horses because I'm terrified of them. They scare ...

I'm boring myself again. Looking back over the past couple of posts, I don't see any real sense of me in them. They feel like a stranger wrote them. A boring stranger, who gives a fuck what others think about her, and who can't write about anything that doesn't involve something that makes her feel good about herself. I'd like to blame winter for my self centerdness, for my maudlin focus on everything MEMEMEMEME. But that would be a total cop out. It's not winters fault I let myself get like this, all tawdry sex and tawdrier emotions. It's my own damn lack of motivation and drive. I get so fucking lazy, to the point where even knowing exactly what I need to do, what will drag me back into myself and make me whole again, doesn't matter. Don't want to do it. I suppose in some ways that's classic depression, and I should get it checked out. I need to fight the ol' New England "Buck up and do it on your own, weakling, or it doesn't cou...

I've been saying that a lot lately. That, and Meh, along with a fatalitistic shrug of the shoulders. The guy from the last entry did not, in fact, work out. We'd have been great in bed, but jealousy and possessiveness would have quickly intruded. So close to exactly what I want, yet so far. That keeps on happening. I met a guy last night, while I was out with Joe for Valentines at Twisted. Hot guy, pretty lips, very, very aggressive. Pulled me aside as I came out of the ladies room, complimented my glasses, ascertained my state of takeness, and proceeded to quickly and cleanly get down to the brass tacks of wanting to fuck the shit out of me. And I was tempted. But I was there with J. Who would have been not only fine with, but completely thrilled by the knowledge of me being fucked by another man. He'd have wanted to watch, but I'm absolutely positive we could have worked something out. But I was uncomfortable, and told him I was going to stay with the person I was...