PS I'm sorry I haven't posted much in the last couple of days. I spent a lot of the last 24 hours curled up with stomach cramps and other violent intestinal ickiness punctuated with a meeting and working on files at work. The culprit? Well, it's happened three of the last four Sundays (game days, and the one thing missing during the 'good' day and present on all the 'bad' days was cashews (and yesterday there were pecans, too). It looks like I've developed an allergy to nuts, which is annoying, given that 1) they were one of the things I didn't have problems with--a rare thing and 2) a lot of Indian, Thai, and other cooking I love tends to have them. But I'd rather not feel that sick, either. I'm beginning to think by the time I'm an old lady they'll be putting me not in a home but in a bubble, I already have allergies to so much. Rats. Anyway, so I wasn't feeling much like blogging.
This morning I was sadly reduced to pedestrian road rage. Yeah. I know. How pathetic. This guy nearly ran me down (I'm exaggerating slightly, Momma!) and then, I don't know if I frowned or what, but he made this face like he was about to stick his tongue out. Mind you, he looked like he was in his 40s and thought he was hot stuff--had a shaved head, nice car, etc.) I'm afraid I flipped him off, which I suppose was unladylike but there are few things that annoy me more than people propelling around in heavy machinery without wanting to share the road with the rest of us. My most sustained swearing bout which consisted of about forty uses of the f-word happened when an older couple in a Cadillac nearly careened into Zabet and me. I jumped between the car and her, putting my hand out against it (like that was really going to stop it, I know) and then swore like a sailor, surprising everyone involved. I do normally keep my language pretty clean, but you scare the bejeesus out of me and there's no telling what you'll get.
Fortunately I can't sustain trivial anger. Whilst seriously considering walking over to where he was now parked and asking him what he thought that was all about, I instead turned towards work and started walking. My reward for this was seeing a beautiful orange butterfly and a cedar waxwing (I've only seen one other in the area). What can I say; it's the simple things in life that make me happy, and I'm easily distracted. :)
My day went pretty well, and I've mostly done some computer things tonight. I did have something come into my head on the way home today (believe it or not, this was sparked from misreading an author's name in the checkout at the druggist):
She traipses into dreams, pushing through the ragged strands
Always walking, always watching,
But never truly a part of the sleeper's world.
Here and there she pauses
Picking up a treasured marble shining in the sun
Half-forgotten childhood in an old man's dream.
From another comes fears of failure
In the form of shackles,
or an infant's cry.
All through the dreamlands she searches the sand
Following the ebb and flow of the tide
And collecting the pieces left behind.
Woven together they form humanity
In the shape that seems to swell and change
And breathing into her sculpture
She steps inside
And finds life.
Once the idea came to me, it creeped me out a little. Imagine a creature who can only live, only feel, by gleaning forgotten bits of dreams. What if it chose to steal something central to your memories? Would you lose it forever? There's probably a short story in that, at least.
I talked to my mom tonight. I had sent her an e-mail the other night, and then coincidentally--if there is a such thing--called right after she finished reading it. She read the comments Zabet had made and agreed that I was the better off for it. This led to a discussion of my father (hmmm...could it be the similarities?) and my mom reminded me of my dad's mottos of life:
'Do unto others and then split'
I'd forgotten that completely. But, yeah, but that says volumes, I suppose. She said it sounded like Dwana was someone who could handle the give and take of a relationship and who understood what friendship meant. She asked me about Heather's baby and I told her Heather was home but we weren't sure how long the baby would be there. She said they normally kept them until they were 5 lbs and it sounds like he doesn't have that much to go, so hopefully everybody will be home and fine soon.
Well, that's enough for now. Hey, you got a nifty picture and a sort-of poem. What more do you want?