One Who Wanders (abiona) wrote,
One Who Wanders

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Beware - Long Entry Ahead

Ladies and gentlemen, I have made a kind-of-sort-of plan! After completing my BFA at college, I will go for a Masters in art history (focusing on Asian art), and thereafter work at a museum somewhere. (Also, I had meant to post this last night, but LJ frizzled out on me. So here it is, half a day late!)

It was important to me to be with my mother and stepfather this Thanksgiving, as we are all alive, after having had major surgery of one sort or another. My mother is still not entirely recovered from the aftereffects of her thyroid surgery, so I wished to be with this side of the family.

But ... despite what they say, I know that people are offended or hurt when I am made to choose one side over another. Though I told my father the reasons why I wished to be with my mother and Paul, I could hear the annoyance in his voice. Thus, this Thanksgiving, I went to my father's for breakfast, got carted over to visit his side of the family, and then taken back to my house, whereupon we went and traveled to a suburb of Chicago for Thanksgiving dinner(I slept all the way there and all the way back).

My father has been difficult to deal with in control matters, and has been acting rather strangely these past few days. As I was on my way home Tuesday night, he called my mother's cellphone - and between talking to my mother and me, he spent nearly an hour on the phone, plugging away for information. This man, on average, spends ten minutes or less on any phone conversation unless he is arguing money. He kept on pushing back the time that he wanted to pick me up for Thanksgiving and then return me to my mother, since I wanted to be with both families. Each time a time was mentioned, it somehow mysteriously moved backwards! From 8:30, it became 9. From there, 9:30. He justified it by saying that he runs on "Schafer Time," a family way of saying "eternally late."

XP Annoyed, I informed him that I had no patience for Schafer Time, and I was no longer running on it. I simply don't have the time to be late, and it annoys me when people are late to meetings with me - I make the effort to be punctual or early, and I feel that others should extend the same courtesy. I am becoming better at manipulating him through either guilt or annoyance to do what he should do, and not what he wants to do. XP

Now, I thought the plan was this: I was to go to his house, eat a Thanksgiving Breakfast with him and perhaps his girlfriend, and then we were going to go visit my grandmother and all the relatives that come with. Thus, I hadn't eaten prior to when he picked me up. He actually thought, however, that we weren't going to eat breakfast. >.< He didn't want to because it would take up time.

... well, I managed to make him sit down with me for once. I count that as a victory of sorts, I suppose, though it wasn't for long. At my grandmother's house, I went through the traditional form of Twenty Questions ("what's your school like?" "do you like it?" "do you eat in the dorm?" "what do you do?" "where are you going?" etc.) from everyone present. It wasn't bad, although I felt as though I had somehow been asked all these things before (I probably have). I don't think my grandmother's doing too well ... she's still hanging on, but her life is tethered to the oxygen tank in the kitchen. (I do not recommend smoking.)

At the relatives' abode in Chicago, I met the noisiest Dalmatian - he had an affinity for barking in my face. XP Thanks, I love you too.

When I called this evening to ask if he would drive me back to school on Sunday, my father (for some unknown reason, probably to avoid giving me an answer or a time) began giving me a play-by-play of Star Wars Episode One. o_O; After I finally managed to get him to hang up, he called back scarcely ten minutes later to tell me that Darth Maul had been sliced in two. Then we hung up. And then he called me back again to ask how Yoda knew that Anakin was going to be evil. o_O Sometimes, he gets a bit odd when he drinks ... XP lol

Hah, I make my Thanksgiving seem awful. The truth is, it was just normal. Average. I never really have much of "a smashing good time" at Thanksgiving, or at any holiday where many relatives gather all at once. They wear me out quickly, and I simply sit silently while my mother tries to draw out "my more conversational side," which is apparently my "better side." XP

There are a couple of doodles in my doodle/note sketchbook which have some potential for iconage, so thusly I may have a couple of new icons when I get back to school. ^_^ My scanner shall listen to me, come hell or high water! XP Quality scans shall ensue! I may have to Photoshop the things to death, but I will have at least one new icon, I swear it!

Because I haven't done this for awhile, because old friends have new LJs and thus the word must be spread, and because I went on a friending spree a bit ago, I shall now welcome the following individuals: change_of_heart, clockchild, cynicalsiren, drunkontea, emberfly, exploding_girl, holatuwol, lilaea, and avianthropy! ^_^

I've been home for a couple of nights now, and for both nights spent between icy sheets, I've had disturbing dreams. (I noticed this morning that the childish-looking dream catcher I made way back when in Girl Scouts and thereafter had hung on my bunk bed for years was moved ... I wonder if there's really something to it. o.o But if so, then why do I not have bad dreams consistently like this while at school, where my dream catcher does not come?)

The first dream was a long, involved one, and I cannot tell you all the details, for they escape me. I had met a man and fallen in love, and we had married. When the dream took place, we had three beautiful children on the younger end of things - I recall that one was very clingy to me, and I was often carrying it (can't recall the gender). My husband was horribly successful ... he was some oil magnate, or something ... there was a room upstairs on the third floor of our huge, palatial house that was just a room for phones and workstations that connected to all the countries he worked with. It was very busy up there, and I very rarely stepped foot in there, only if I had to disturb my husband ... but I knew how to do it so that he wouldn't be angry or annoyed.

One night, I had gone out with a friend. We were walking back towards my huge house through the park, and I was picking up pieces of chalk, and large sticks of this brilliantly colored, transparent stuff (seemed kind of like Bath and Body Works glycerine soap, but it was drawing material). I couldn't figure out why people had just left them lying there, because they were still good! As I pocketed some so I could carry more, we saw that some group had set the house on fire.

My family was inside, so I ran as fast as I could, though it felt like I could not run fast enough. Screaming, I was dropping everything in my hands as I couldn't get close enough to rescue my dying family ... and then I woke up.

The next dream followed what happened to me after a fight. A friend (don't know who, she was just a "friend") was doing something stupid in a public place (seemed like a dimly-lit Italian restaurant), and I stopped her from doing said stupid thing. She was, of course, mad at me that I had stopped her from doing something stupid, and I was fuming that she was angry at me, because I had done her quite a favor!

I got on my bike, and rode away. It was insanely difficult to pedal, because (as I discovered quite awhile later) I had the bike set on the most difficult gear, times two. As I rode through the neighborhood that I first lived in, I reset the gear to something more normal. Biking down the sidewalk (which was broken and uneven, riddled with pipes protruding everywhere) towards the community pool, it was still very hard to pedal - the bike was still set on the hardest setting!

I pedaled down towards and across the river, and the town was no longer the one that I had grown up in. It was a combination of the same town with some big, big downtown city. I went to the hotel that we were staying at (for a conference?), and suddenly realized that I couldn't remember what room we were in.

The rest of that dream followed my elevator and mall-hotel (they were somehow combined) adventures as I tried to find my way back to the room. I only made it because someone recognized me, grabbed me by the arm, and dragged me back.

The third dream was a very short one. We (though I do not know who "we" consists of) must have been in my dorm room, because of my green sheets. I sheepishly said that I had been sweating a lot when I slept last night, and someone else said that "yeah, they could tell." I looked down to see this slime - it was like a viscous water in a lime green shade, slowly oozing down over the folds in my sheets. It was horribly disgusting, and I was shocked.

The final disturbing dream seemed to take place in a wildlife reserve of some sort, and I was not personally present. A jaguar was scouting out a pine-covered, rocky, very mountainous territory, investigating a group of wild dogs that had moved in. From a cliff over, the jaguar looked at these dogs, and the dogs saw the jaguar. They all got up and began to pursue the jaguar - there was then a scene where the area was shown from far away, and groups of arrows represented the dogs, quickly following the single arrow, representing the jaguar. With a cut back to the jaguar, we can see that it's running very fast, and covering a lot of ground. The dogs are still behind it, and the jaguar comes to a cliff, which it jumps down - ledge, by ledge, by ledge. It plunges into the water below and swims away, as a group of people look shocked at this shower of wild dogs that's jumping down on top of them.

There were scenes of the wild dogs attacking the people, and I guess ten of people died. I remember feeling the sharp cut of their teeth.

Then we went to a police station, where they were asking a young lady who had survived (the only survivor ...?) about the attack. She was crying, applying some dark blue coloring to either side of her nose and smearing it out as she wept. The police asked her about an artist's interpretation of the blood (it was in a cup like the cap of laundry detergent, but transparent). She began to cry all the more as the police wondered what made this mark and that, because it reminded her of her baby. The police assured her that they would find out why this had happened, and she said "I'm so glad ... but I'm so very lonely."

Any interpretations? o_o Four disturbing dreams in two nights ... I have not been sleeping well. Bara and I have concluded that this may be a signal of impending doom! XP

And now, for some lighter entertainment, here's a paragraph I wrote back in December 2000, on what I had made up my mind to do with my life. The teacher had, of course, intended it to be serious. I, of course, had no intention of being so!

"I have pretty much made up my mind to go around kicking people in the shins. Society needs a good kick in the shins, and all big movements start with one person, one thought - in this case, me. Thwap. Twhap. I kick thee in the shins and awaken thee to truth. And by so doing, I shall raise society to an even higher level - why stay on the floor and get your shins kicked when you can climb on a chair? Thwap, another shin bruised into knowledge. Twhap - a smarter world, one shin at a time."

... my writing skills have sadly decreased from the quality of those days. XP It may be due to the fact that I don't care as much about variety in sentence length, and I will make any sentence however long I wish it to be, because it makes sense to me. o_O Also, the fact that I have spent a good deal of time writing on the Internet has drastically changed my style - AGV, the AnimeBoards RPGs, and now Livejournal - I have grown more colloquial than ever, and less formal.
Tags: dream writing

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