Thursday, January 29, 2009

Lions, Potatoes and Electric Toothbrushes, Oh My!


I have always had an active imagination. Sometimes that's a good thing, but more often than not it leads to some pretty crazy dreams. Some of those dreams qualify as nightmares, as I'm also the biggest scaredy cat on the planet.

It's been happening since I was little, these crazy dreams. My family thinks I'm off my rocker when I tell them the stories. I have a recurring nightmare in which something terrible happens, I run to dial 9-1-1 and the call won't go through. My dream book tells me this signifies a feeling of helplessness. I've also had many dreams in which I'm running at top speed and suddenly find myself in the air. Not really flying, just running above the ground. There have also been a few about falling, but I always wake up with a start before I hit the ground.

The dreams get much stranger than that, though. Once, I dreamed my entire family turned into giant hairy potatoes and tried to kill me. Another time we lived in a swanky penthouse apartment and my father brought home a lioness as a house pet. I remember feeling so terrified it was going to eat me. In yet another dream, my grandparents took me on a mining expedition underground and we traveled by donkey.

For awhile, I was having heart-stoppingly terrifying nightmares that were the creepiest things I've ever experienced. In my dream, I would see a scene from my bedroom with some kind of critter flying around in it. Sometimes it was a shadow, sometimes it was a spider running across the ceiling, other times it was a bat (that comes from the real-life time there was a real-life bat in my bed).

My dreaming self would see this thing, freak out and wake myself up while having a heart attack. It's a very unpleasant way to wake up. When I opened my eyes, I'd be looking at the exact same scene that I saw in my dream, minus the critter. I'd leap out of bed and usually run down the hallway, slamming the door shut behind me to keep the critter inside. It took me a few steps to realize that I was dreaming and in fact, there was no critter. This got really old for my family after awhile.

Slowly, I graduated from running down the hallway like a maniac to just leaping out of bed. Eventually, I'd still wake myself up having a heart attack, but I learned to calm myself down and realize nothing bad was really happening much quicker than before. I haven't had one of those in awhile, but I'm sure it will happen again.

Even though the critter dreams have stopped, I still dream vividly on a regular basis. Sometimes, timely events show up in my dreams. Just this week, I found myself part of a convoy driving to an abandoned house in the desert with McSteamy from Grey's Anatomy as our prisoner. When we got to the house, he killed everyone except me and one other person, then forced us to drive him somewhere. There was also something about an electric toothbrush kit, but I don't remember how that came up.

I'm quite sure McSteamy showed up because of a Grey's Anatomy preview that showed him hunched over, veins bulging as he screamed out in pain. It startled me (not really scary, I know, but this is how my brain works) and so, my imagination turned him into a bad guy. I also went to the dentist last week and she suggested I switch to an electric toothbrush.

I'm going to start using this blog as a dream diary. Partly, to share the things that my crazy imagination comes up with and provide entertainment for the two people that read this blog. I'm also hoping to keep track of these stories and identify trends. I've already spotted a few. Maybe someday I'll learn to control my subconscious thoughts - anyone know a good hypnotist?

Friday, January 23, 2009

E*TRADE Baby is Back!

Adgabber posted a link to outtakes from the new E*TRADE Super Bowl commercial and the baby is back! This is great, "I want to punch the economy in the face."

Lost Keeps Me Awake at Night

I'm usually a zombie on Thursday mornings because of the Lost adrenaline rush that hits me every Wednesday between 9 and 10 p.m. Kind of makes it hard to go to sleep at a reasonable hour when your heart is pounding from smoke monster attacks, disappearing islands and a shirtless Sawyer. The two-hour season premiere this week did not disappoint, it was full of things to make you jump out of your seat, hit rewind on the DVR and say, "What in the name of Daniel Faraday is going ON?!"

NineDaves posted about the New York Magazine list of Twenty Questions the Fifth Season of Lost Must Answer. The smoke monster is number one on my list. I have nightmares about it. Leave it to me to be afraid of the most irrational aspect of the show. Also, WHAT was up with the church/laboratory scene at the end of the episode? I used to think the island was Purgatory, until the Oceanic Six ended up back in the real world. Unless it's not the real world they're actually in. Maybe it's hell. And they're have to go back to Purgatory. Maybe I'm completely wrong. Now they're bringing this religious aspect back into it and I'm all confused. I just want to KNOW!

Thursday, January 22, 2009

"I always say shopping is cheaper than a psychiatrist." - Tammy Faye Bakker


I need to seriously consider joining Shopaholics Anonymous. I buy things compulsively, particularly shoes and purses and sometimes expensive shoes and purses. Walking through the mall or shopping online, I will stumble across something that I absolutely MUST have. If I don't buy it on the spot, I obsess over it. I check for it to go on sale. I dream about it. Inevitably, I purchase it. This bag from Anthropologie is the object of my latest desire.

I first saw it while shopping in San Francisco over the holidays. The bright colors stood out against the black background like the Northern Lights shining in a dark, winter sky. (OK, it's not really comparable to a natural phenomenon, but it's PRETTY!) The best part was the clearance price! The original $118 price was crossed out in red pen and what I thought read $29.99 was written below. It was going to be mine.

Apparently, twos and fives can look very similar in scripty salesperson writing because when I got to the register, it rang up $59.99. Ouch! I had already spent a boatload of money on my trip and could not justify dropping $60 on a purse at the time. So, I put it back and shed a little tear.

It's been haunting me ever since. Diligently, I check the Anthropologie website weekly to monitor the price. If it goes down ten cents I'm buying it. Who am I kidding? I'm going to buy it regardless. It's only a matter of time. However, instead of buying it on-the-spot-because-I-absolutely-have-to-have-it-right-now, I'm going to wait until I save up enough money to purchase it and still be able to buy gas. What good is a fancy new purse if you can't go anywhere to show it off because you have no gas?

Wednesday, January 21, 2009

Obamarama

January 20, 2009 was truly a day for the history books. The first African American president of the United States of America was sworn into office. A man who has promised change for the better. So many Americans are counting on him. He gave us hope and now we wait for the promises to be kept.

The media has been all over the historical significance of this event. Some people are annoyed by the hype and think it's been taken too far. Others don't believe Barack Obama will bring about the dramatic changes the country is looking for. They talk of disappointment and failure instead of hope and change.

To all of the neigh-sayers, I say bah humbug. Are you sick of hearing about how history is being made? Turn off your t.v. and read a book. Maybe you'll tune back in when a negative story makes headlines again. It won't be long, we are in a recession after all. For now, let the rest of the country enjoy positive news while it lasts.

Does the connection to Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. make you roll your eyes? I hope they don't get stuck in the back of your head. Dr. King was murdered a mere forty years ago and now a black man is president of this country. That's a big deal.

Does, "Yes we can!" make your stomach turn? Perhaps it's because you can't connect to millions of your fellow Americans who have joined together in celebration. When is the last time we had something to collectively celebrate as a country? It's been a long time. I feel bad that you can't be happy with the rest of us, but don't put a damper on our celebration. Occasions like this don't happen every day.

Are you tired of Obama being portrayed as a god-like savior who is going to fix the world's problems with the snap of his fingers? So am I. He's not and not all Obama supporters think that way. The ones that do are loopy. He is a man with many flaws just like the rest of us. He will do many things in the next four years, but miracle-working isn't on his to-do list.

Personally, my greatest hopes for the Obama administration involve an end to the Iraq war and an economic upturn. I don't expect either of these things to happen over night. Change is difficult and painstakingly slow. America must be patient and remember that whatever happens, it has to be better than the past eight years. I believe the card below from someecards.com says it best.

Saturday, January 10, 2009

Monsieur Masseur


I'm addicted to professional massages. Unfortunately, my bank account does not allow me to indulge in this addiction very often. So, when a salon that I had a gift certificate for started offering massage services recently, it was cause for excitement.

I called to make an appointment and the receptionist confirmed the date and time. "You're all set for a 30 minute neck and back massage with Daniel," she said. Great! Uh, wait a second, what was that last part? Did you say Daniel? As in a man? Rubbing oil all over my neck and back? This could be weird.

I've always gone to a woman masseuse, it's what I'm comfortable with. Massages can be very intimate situations that are completely dependent on your ability to relax. Most involve getting completely naked, lying on a cozy, cushioned, heated table in a dimly lit room with soft music playing. For me, it's the most relaxing thing in the universe. My mind wanders into complete nothingness as the silky-smooth hands of a professional massage therapist hit all the right pressure points and release all of those nasty toxins. It is heaven.

Having some dude at the helm of my journey to relaxation was a little scary. Would I be comfortable? Would I be able to relax? What business does a man have getting into a profession that involves rubbing oil all over naked women? (I have similar feelings about male gynecologists). I considered calling back and rescheduling for a manicure, but what the hell, a free massage is a free massage and I was sure that Daniel was a professional. He deserved a fair shot. Besides, it was just neck and back, not like I had to take my pants off.

So, I went. And it was weird. And Daniel was hot. Which made it weirder. And he was not the best massage therapist I've ever been to, which was a little disappointing. But, I conquered my fear of masseurs and used up my gift certificate, so all was not lost.

It wasn't that he was bad, I've just had way better (nothing will ever compare to Ariel at the Paris Spa by Mandara in Las Vegas.) And it was different. His hands were rough. His sneakers squeaked on the tile floor. He tried to make small talk. I had to stifle a giggle fit when he asked if the pressure was OK and said, "Tell me if you want more." He was also on the short side, which put his crotch basically on my head when he bent over the top of the table to reach down my back. The whole thing had qualities comparable to an awkward one-night stand, including when I told him I'd call again.

I'll be sticking with female massage therapists in the future. I don't want to base my opinion of all masseurs on Daniel, I'm sure there are amazing ones out there, but I will never be 100 percent comfortable in a room with a strange man, without my clothes on. And to Daniel - thanks for being my first. I'll never forget you.

Sunday, January 4, 2009

Could I be a California Girl?


It's 2 A.M. on Monday morning and I have to be at work in a few short hours for the first time in almost two weeks. It's going to be the worst Monday in the history of Mondays. I'm wide awake though, changing time zones will do that to ya.

I just returned from an eye-opening trip to California and my mind is racing with hopes, thoughts, plans and possibilities. My dear friend Molly moved to San Francisco this past summer and I finally got the chance to visit. "You'll love it out here," she told me. "You should really think about moving here," she said. "You NEED to get out of Buffalo," was repeated many times.

Truth is, that thought has been in my head for quite some time. The only thing holding me back was fear. What if I can't stand being away from my family? What if I hate it? What if it makes me sad? What if I miss something important at home? What if I want to move back and can't find a job?

Some of those fears still exist for me, but this trip muted them substantially. And it pretty much obliterated the, "What if I hate it?" part. I know with almost absolute certainty that I would completely love living in San Francisco.

Whenever I'd considered moving away before, New York was always at the top of my list. I think that was part of the problem. New York is scary. It's dirty and cold and gigantic and mean. Don't get me wrong, I absolutely love it, but it's MEAN. (New York, you know I love you, please forgive me.) The scariness is part of its appeal though, if you can make it there you can make it anywhere, right? I've always had this drive to prove that I can be successful on my own in a big city like that.

This trip opened my eyes to the possibility of being successful on my own in a big, friendly city. San Francisco is clean and warm and bright and welcoming. Life there seems manageable. Everyone seems genuinely happy, at least everyone that I met. And the best part? It's on the freaking ocean! It doesn't get any better than that. Any city where you can look out your window and see surfers walking down the street in their wet suits, carrying surf boards is far from intimidating.

Observing Molly and her group of friends, many of them Buffalo transplants and almost all of them transplants from somewhere, I saw a group of positive, adventurous, energetic, spirited, easy-going people who are so full of life. A drastic change from the mid-winter population of Buffalo. I had a lot of fun with them and hope to have more fun soon.

I will always be a Buffalo girl at heart, but there is a whole big world out there with so much opportunity. I want to explore it, to learn and grow from it. There are things out there that Buffalo just can't offer an unattached 25 year-old girl itching for something more in her life.

California inspired me to end the stagnation. I've been in a rut and the only way I'll ever get out is to climb. I've been unhappy with life lately and I am the only one that can turn it around. Will I end up in San Francisco? Perhaps. Only time will tell.

"We are the music makers, and we are the dreamers of the dream. Wandering by lone sea breakers, and sitting by desolate streams. World losers and world forsakers, for whom the pale moon gleams. Yet we are movers and the shakers of the world forever it seems." - Arthur William Edgar O'Shaughnessy