Somewhere between Bell's Palsy and death

Dreeeeeeeeam, dream dream dream

Thursday, July 13, 2006
Have I ever mentioned my sick, sick love for Kiefer Sutherland?
Probably not since I just discovered I even have a sick, sick love of him after the dream I had last night. In the dream, he was on some sort of special mission -- it wasn't 24 or anything -- and he was with a wife, but he had a really hot bed scene with a younger chick (played by 24 daughter Elisha Cuthbert, strangely, though I think she's freakin' hot, dark eyebrows be damned). It ended up where the two of them had to say "goodbye" because of the wife, but Elisha didn't want to let go, yadayadayada. And there was a cruise ship (of sorts), grocery store and all these people I know crammed in a room on the ship involved. I was bummed when the alarm went off.

PS And now I have the chorus to a song I've never heard in my head. Too bad I'm not a musician anymore.
Posted by Broad6:41 AM
Thursday, January 05, 2006
Chili cheese burritos at 1:30 a.m.? Off the list
Before CA called and woke me up this morning, I was dreaming that Mother was a heroin addict, and that I took off running down the street to escape her and addictness, but some scary men on bikes started to chase me, so I ran to the neighbors, and they staged an intervention of sorts, I think.
Posted by Broad5:54 AM
Saturday, October 22, 2005
Who lyin’ to me?
I don't THINK I ate anything bizzare last night, so I have no idea why it was that I dreamt this morning of Third Watch -- except the only characters I recognized were Bosco and Faith -- and the episode had the crew going in to an inner city high school dance where there was thought to be drugs, so they also bring K-9s, one of which was an alligator (!) that could climb walls (!!). And the alligator was the one who eventually found the whole shit ton of white, powdery drugs stashed in the ceiling tile; he came out with it his snout. Arrests were made, and all was well with the world. Also, Bosco was going down on a domestic charge, and all the women cops took up the cause against him. Oh, and Dakota Fanning was in the dream, and she was taking an Elizabethan acting class that required her and the other students to figure out how to jump from one side of a cliff to another. No, she didn't fall in, the little scamp.

Yeah, I don't know either, man.

Here's what my favorite dream interpretation site says about alligators:
To see an alligator in your dream, symbolizes treachery, deceit, and hidden instincts. It may be a signal for you to take a new perspective on a situation. It may also represent your ability to move between the material world of waking life and the emotional, repressed world of the unconscious. Alternatively, the alligator represents healing powers and qualities.

To dream that you are running away from the alligator, indicates that you are unwilling to confront some painful and disturbing aspect of your unconscious. There is some potentially destructive emotion that you are refusing to acknowledge and owning up to.

According to biblical interpretations, an alligator suggests that leviathan is king over the children of pride. (Psa 74:14, Job 41:1,Isa 27:1)

Today's activities include being night reporter and getting my earl changed over at Og's crib. I'm sure beer and merriment will follow.
Posted by Broad9:54 AM
Monday, October 03, 2005
New rule: No Stouffer’s french breads before bed
because it's never pleasant to dream that one of your most beloved exes has been mowed down in a hail of gunfire because he didn't kowtow to the county's political party line.

Yeah. Lemme 'splain.

See, the county in which I live and breathe is exTREMEly political and therefore exTREMEly, and rather bizzarely, corrupt. Like, as in, people in high places know which way their employees vote; the person elected as the County Clerk is still working as an attorney full-time; and nepotism, nepotism nepotism to beat the band, among other various and sundry situations unbecoming to public office. Well, said ex was never one to tout the party line.

(Sighs dreamily)

About J: Met him at an 80s party that a couple of my respectable married friends held what, seven years ago (OMG). He was a deputy prosecuting attorney for the county, six years my senior and just incredibly brilliant and intense. And motherfucker could COOK -- I mean, like gourmet stylee. He could take leftovers that he had in his fridge for like weeks and turn them into restaurant food. He lived in the Miller section of Gary about 100 yeards from the beach, and I was crazy about him. My friends and I had these delusions that he and I would become this power boho couple, living by the beach and throwing interesting parties with our interesting friends, never mind that between the two of us, we wouldn't have cleared $50,000. Still! We would be witty and urbane! A power couple in the County of Lake, if you will.

That of course was before he dumped me after a month and I went all crazy pussy on him, back in the day when I was wont to try entirely too hard. He is also a non-exaggerated alcoholic, actually losing his law license for six months because of two DWIs within something like two months of each other. (The second one, he was driving home from the bar that was maybe 3/4 of a mile from his crib, and he flipped off the Gary P.D. Heh. That's my J.)

It's here that the dream picks up.
Posted by Broad11:14 AM
Friday, February 11, 2005
When dreams go horribly wrong
This morning's dream? Not quite as fun. This time, I was supposed to be covering a River Forest High School (!?!?) basketball game (!!) at Lake Central High School because the team had made it to regionals or something, but first I had my annual girl-plumbing appointment at Planned Parenthood, which was for some reason attached to a Catholic hospital. I got into the elevator, and it of course got stuck and wasn't lined up with the floor (one of my biggest fears), and then it came time for the exam. [WARNING! WARNING! TMI MOMENT ABOUT MY PRIVATES TO FOLLOW!]
Posted by Broad12:41 PM • (0) Trackbacks
Tuesday, November 09, 2004
Warren Beatty!?!? The hell!?!?!
This morning, I dreamt that some friends of mine and I (and honestly, I can't remember which friends they were) were in a clothing store in NYC named Lola Lempicka (she doesn't make clothes, does she?) and all the clothes were very teenlike and small. And then all of a sudden, the store owner, Warren Beatty, comes in and talks to us. Again? I don't get it.
Posted by Broad6:40 AM • (0) Trackbacks
Wednesday, September 29, 2004
I had a Twix last night. Does that count?
This was bizarre: This morning, I dreamt that me, Mother and other people who I can't remember right now were living in a hotel (real similar to hotels that I seem to dream about all the time), but this time, it was more like a dorm than an actual hotel, if that makes any sense (and it shouldn't because it's a dream, and dreams aren't necessarily supposed to make sense.) So Dad walks in with his new mistress and her mom (!). He was talking to me about how this new woman was right for him, etc. etc., and I remember just not wanting to hear any of it.

Yeah, I don't know, either.
Posted by Broad7:21 AM • (0) Trackbacks
Sunday, September 05, 2004
Piss on it, man
Either something's bothering me, or I peed the bed last night:
Posted by Broad8:39 AM • (0) Trackbacks
Tuesday, August 10, 2004
Having some issues, apparently
I really love the paper's photo department; remember how I was complaining about having to take a new mug for this year's fair coverage? Rather than listen to me bitch about it, they just used my old photo, which still looks like me, only thinner. Yay! That makes me happy.

So, I'm not sure what this means, but a lot of my dreams, when I remember them, have me traveling somewhere out of the country. This time? It was Russia.
Posted by Broad5:24 AM • (0) Trackbacks
Monday, June 07, 2004
It ain’t a dream until Paris is involved
The details for it are getting hazy at this point, but I blame this one on my crazy aunt, who I was on the phone with until shortly before I hit the sack last night.
Posted by Broad7:08 AM • (0) Trackbacks
Tuesday, June 01, 2004
Snickers Ice cream bars and York Peppermint Patties don’t mix
Here's this morning's dream: What I remember starts out with me, Mother and Dad living in an apartment, and Mother being freaked out about what Dad was doing when he was supposed to be teaching -- not as in him having an affair, but him doing something illegal, and she goes looking for him. There were people in the parking lot of the apartment complex, and they were waiting for him, but I don't think it was for illegal purposes. So he comes home, and the next thing I remember, I'm judging a high school speech meet, and I'm in a little office crammed to the gills with teacher stuff, and I'm talking to two participants and asking them what they want to do with their lives, etc. But the participants? Are dudes I competed against waaaaaay back in the day, one of who I KNOW went on to Northwestern and got married relatively young.

?
Posted by Broad7:32 AM • (0) Trackbacks
Tuesday, May 25, 2004
An open plea
Ok, the one guy? Needs to get over here NOW. Why? Because now I'm having overtly sexual dreams about another friend of ours, who shall remain nameless because even though I find him incredibly hot (and you KNOW who I'm talking about, Kaffy and Tara, if she's back from Fla., but no, it is NOT Mr. Zakula), I shan't embarass his good name. And this ain't the first time it's happened, either, me dreaming about this friend. Woo.

Yvonne, I'm FEELING you, and I'm not even knocked up.
Posted by Broad7:28 AM • (0) Trackbacks
Thursday, May 20, 2004
Doubt there’d be an Oscar for THIS performance
Went back to bed shortly after I posted last, and I had a dream. The part I remember?
Posted by Broad8:03 AM • (0) Trackbacks
Thursday, April 08, 2004
That thing about the best-laid plans?
Holy shit, what a crazy day, y'all! Just as I was coming down from interviewing Roger Clyne (more about that in a minute) and getting ready to finish my business stories, I get a phone call from a source in my one beat that the paper's going to have to pry out of my cold, dead hands letting me know that the thing I'd been waiting for is ready. So, desperately trying to get in touch with my one editor, who wasn't around, I had to talk to the AME, who was like, "Ok, DEEP BREATHS. Do you need to prioritize?" "Yeah," I somewhat whimpered.

So, totally switching gears, my business stories have been held to next week, I pounded out my big beat story, and then I had to go into Gary to cover an awards dinner. Tried to make it to a third story, but that one's running for Saturday, so I can do it tomorrow. Still, I'm all flummoxed. So much for having this shit all worked out.

So Roger Clyne? So best.
Posted by Broad6:30 PM • (0) Trackbacks
It is the job of a good person to be honest. To be self-aware. To deliberately explore the fault lines of your character and try desperately to not inflict suffering in this strange, ghost-ridden world of worked and fabricated objects. Sometimes the jobs of writer and good person coincide. But more often they don’t. There are way more writers in the world than there are good people.

100 things
Info meme #1
Typelogic says I'm an INFP.
Check my weekly astrological groove here.

Give it to me, baby.

Pssst ... My birthday's Feb. 3, and I want this, and this, and this ...


The Make-Believe Oral Cancer Foundation (M-BOCF) is now accepting donations on my behalf. Won't you please help those of us who jump to hideous conclusions regarding our oral health and help me get a root canal or two!??:



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Broad said: Like I said, my feelings are complicated on the matter, so ... I’m interested, however, in Her Highness’ thoughts on… ...[go].

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Wholovesya? said: By the by, guess who was most nasty about the charitable giving?  The frigging church.  My church and my mom’s… ...[go].

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