Awkward Transition. Back To The Random and Irrelevant. Without Comment If I Can Keep My Yapping Typing Fingers Silent.
But see?? I can’t NOT write something. I just made the title longer. I have a disease. And a free space that allows me to say as much or as little as I like. And it’s never “little”. Or less. Every time I really find myself going on and on here, I remember a moment from my other life, when I had an office job, and I had to actually type memo’s and e-mails and crap (so missed sometimes that I can’t even believe I ever wanted to have a different job, like, a specific kind of job, that you could put on a coffee cup—you know, those mugs that have sayings on them that kids buy for their parents on Mother’s Day or Father’s Day, “I Love A Nurse” or “#1 Nurse”—what a load of horse crap! I miss the train. I miss sitting on my butt for most of the day. It’s true I guess, we are never satisfied. Poopy American ideology. Digressing…running off the rails here…I think this is enough extra thinking for a parenthesis. Even my side thoughts are ridiculous. Did you even remember we were in a parenthesis? Why do I want to keep typing the word “parenthesis”??) Anyway…old job…memo’s…e-mail…I had to write them…and I sent out some really big, long thing and one of the receivers sent me back a critique of the e-mail/memo, without actually commenting on the content, that I should try and keep it short, and with bullet points, because no one is interested in reading a novel about kitchen supplies or office equipment. Good observation and helpful feedback (this is what the bosses call “constructive criticism” I believe) but some times, some things, require a long worded paragraph or five, to get to the meat of the matter.
This particular post today though, is not one of those times. This is just me with too much time (and an apparently super-functioning italics key) (more parenthesis) (sick I tell ya!) and no good way to transition from touching family post to a giant pink elephant wearing glasses. I have given up on any kind of theme to this blog (that description word is for my cousin Lorraine–blog–yucky word–we need to invent a new word to call this ridiculousness) or any kind of continuity. It will just be random, as usual. Back to the business of silliness and bird pictures.
Andrew is still out there saving the world one push-up and airplane jump at a time, and I am staying at ground level, typing and entertaining, with the occasional nursing care interventions and strategies thrown in, that I have to call my job now. We all got our thing going here. The world keeps spinning. Time is a ticking. Think global. Act local. That’s the theme I guess over all. The world is bigger than one person. Really too big for one person. You have to have back-up. And a place in the scheme of things. Or at least the desire to have a place. And a good plan to get you there. The bigger picture is waiting. Draw yourself in any way you can.
Well, that kind of worked out all on its own. Not a bad way to wrap this up.
Hmmm. Satisfied face. (Stevie, that’s for you.) “Turtle Face” if you watch New Girl. (Nick makes “the face” all the time. I will find a good picture and post it asap. It’s funny. You probably make the face all the time in your life too and don’t even realize it. Once you become “aware” you can never go back. Fair warning.) And if you already know what I’m talking about, give me a shout out. In fact, send me a pic of that face, of yourself, a friend, a stranger, or anywhere else you see it. Hmmm. Double satisfied face. I feel a new category coming on…an exciting new feature to head into winter with…a theme if you will…I will stop now….
So there you have it. Without comment. Later.
Blatant second attempt at generating more traffic tonight. Trying to get Super 3000! And a disturbing dream I had days ago…
Read This. My first shameless self-promotion post.
I’ve made it so easy! Time is ticking. I’m feeling a little sickling…Really. I don’t know what it was, or is, but I feel kind of yucky all of the sudden.
Anderson Cooper, on Regis & Kelly today (he filled in) said that no one wants to hear other people’s dreams. Ever. Even close friends and family, he said, “It’s like, no, no, don’t tell me…ugh…too late…bored.”
Kelly disagreed. Some dreams can be interesting, she said.
Well pick a side, because here is one of mine.
I had it 3 or 4 nights ago, but I can’t forget it. It basically starts….fuzzy stuff…and I’m in a garage. At a party. There is a lot of drinking going on. Not by me, but by these three tall guys standing by the open garage door. When suddenly, one of the drinking guys somehow manages to trip the switch that makes the garage door start to close. But he doesn’t move out of the way. He just stands under it watching it come down on top of him. We, on the inside are yelling for him to move, but he’s not. It finally closes right on top of him, and it’s really wide, with some kind of hollow spot, because he’s kind of inside the door itself. But now he’s on the outside so I can’t see him. After a minute, the door raises and there he is, laying on the ground with a huge gash, shaped like a big teardrop on the side of his head near his eye. I rush over to him to help, and one of his friends is pulling it open and closing it with his fingers, saying, “Look at this, look at this!” I said, “Stop doing that!” And I kneel over him, trying to keep him still and he grips my back really tight like he’s trying to hug me, and his eyes are droopy and fading out. I say, “Don’t worry, the paramedics are coming. They’ll get you out of here. Don’t worry.” But he just keeps gripping me, quietly fading out. Then the ambulance arrives and the paramedic says to me, “Man, I love it when you med students are first on the scene, you always clean up everything so nice.” I just glanced over a little and mumbled as they pulled him away from me. They got him in the ambulance and started to drive when I suddenly realized what the paramedic said to me. I turned toward the ambulance and said out loud, “There was no blood! He was drinking and there was no blood.” As if this was very significant. But they were gone and I woke up.
Those words have been going through my head for the last three or four days now. He was drinking and there was no blood. It feels like it means something, but I can’t make the connection.
It’s been a long time since I had a dream that stayed with me this long and so clearly. It’s weird. But does it mean anything? I don’t know.
So what’s the consensus? Dream Talk: good or bad? Any ideas? He was drinking. And there was NO blood.
just shy of pretty 