Sleep logic

A new medication I've been taking has the possible side effect of unusual dreams. Now, I've always had unusual dreams, but in the last few weeks they have been more frequent and more intense. I've dreamed about traveling in airports inside of convenience stores, going back in time by train, grilling cat food, watching Gauls hold ancient ceremonies, and many other things.

I think because of the weird dreams, I am having a harder time snapping back into reality when I wake up. A few nights ago I woke up and was completely out of it. I wasn't really sure what I was doing, but what was really confusing me was this thing in my bed. Sleep-me couldn't even figure out what it was - was it a person, a lump, or something else? And why was it in my bed? So, logically, I reached out and poked "it" in the face a few times.

"It" was my boyfriend, who is almost always next to me when I'm sleeping, and should thus not have confused me so much. On the second or third poke I realized this, apparently said sorry, and went back to sleep. The next morning I had convinced myself it was all a dream.

Turns out it wasn't, and I had poked him in the eye. He had turned over to escape me and my sleep-poking. Poor guy!

Real Life Romance

Something young women seem to hear a lot is that love in real life isn't like the movies. I always thought, "well, duh, and I wouldn't expect it to be." I thought I had a healthy enough dose of cynicism, or at least common sense, to not expect a romance movie style romance. Not that I watch a heck of a lot of romantic movies, but you get the drift.

And overall, I think I'm pretty good at being practical. But sometimes I slip up and get all crazy about things and it stresses me out. I watch movies and think "wait, why don't I have that? Why can't that dramatic romantic thing happen to me?"

Well, thing is, I probably do have that. I love my boyfriend very much, and from what I can tell, he feels the same way about me. At least, he tells me so, and the guy continues to put up with me, so that should say something. Real life really isn't like the movies. Those characters (probably) haven't had to deal with each other when one of them is sick, or stressed, or hogging the covers, or at the very lowest and crappiest emotional state they can be in. Which means they also probably haven't had the opportunity to see each other in bad situations and love them anyway, and show that love.

Also, "real" people don't often have moments when a dramatic declaration is necessary, and not many people are reunited with their love after breaking a curse that made them look like a pig. Um...look up the movie Penelope. And I'm lucky that my life doesn't have much along the lines of emotional returns from war or pig curses or star-crossed love. Sure, sometimes I want to be swept off my feet and kissed passionately, but only if it's by a man who will also drive back to my apartment and get my medicine when I'm sick and crying.



And I hope that poor guy doesn't mind me constantly posting personal things like this to my blog.

Keeping Draino in business

A certain man in my life has been suggesting recently that I grow out my hair. It's something that has occurred to me too, because, well, Brittney Spears has my haircut in the Womanizer video and it looks like a wig. Is a wig, I mean, and I would prefer my hair looks like hair. Also, I'm bored with it.

But Brittney and wigs are not my point. My point is, I'm afraid to grow my hair out because I shed like a cat. As a matter of fact, between me and my cat, I have a constant vacuuming problem. It is entirely possible that if I let it go too long, you would never see my carpeting.

My cat is also shedding more because spring is coming. Could I be shedding because of spring? This week, I have pulled hair out of the shower drain three times at my apartment, and once at the boyfriend's house, just so the water would drain better. While vacuuming up the hair disaster, I had to stop and pull hair out of the vacuum brush-thingy because it wouldn't spin. And if I haven't disgusted you enough already, I took photographic evidence:



That's only what I pulled from the brush - much, much more got vacuumed up or swiffered and thrown out. And apparently some floss came along. Anyway, I have no idea what to do about it, but I'm clogging the drains and making a mess and it's driving me crazy.

8. Just for good measure

I recently got turned on to Iron & Wine after apparently stubbornly ignoring their existence for a few years. They aren't a contender for favorite band, but they definitely have some amazingly gorgeous stuff. For me, their appeal highlights a change I've noticed in my own musical tastes in the last year or so. I've been increasingly drawn to "indie" music, especially the folksy/acoustic/slow/"boring" stuff. I think I do like the musical style a lot, but what really draws me is the poetry of the lyrics. My musical library has expanded to include some artists who I think are not only musically very talented but also brilliant handlers of the English language. Maybe I'm becoming more emotional in my old age, but I am often blown away or moved to tears by the beauty of song lyrics now.

Then again, I've also discovered that I sometimes actually need to stop listening to certain songs or albums because of the emotional impact they have on me. I went off the Fleet Foxes for a few weeks (woah alliteration) because some of the songs were hitting me oddly hard.

Yesterday I was listening to some Iron & Wine a friend gave me while doing homework, and the song Naked as We Came came on. It's not a new song, and I had heard it before, but I really listened to it that time. And then I looked up the lyrics and listened to it again...and burst into tears. Something about the sound of the song and the lyrics and maybe my emotional state made me have a minor, but not unhappy or bad, meltdown. And when I listened to it again last night I cried again. So now I can't listen to it at all for a little while unless I want to cry like a baby. Good grief.

7. Whoops

As you can tell, I failed miserably at This Thing We're Doing. It is March 30th and I am on post seven. So, I can post 18 more times today (heaven forbid, I don't even have that much to talk about) or I can just give the project up for lost. I think we're going with the latter. The friend who got me doing this is so much more interesting in her blogs that I can't really compare anyways.

6. Home!

If you can call this place home, which I suppose I do now.

Headache. Tired. Cold! Yikes!

More blogging to follow when I haven't just gotten off a plane.

5. Excellent day!

1. I love my aunt and uncle, but a few white lies to get some personal time with the bf did the trick.

2. Elephants! Giraffes! Flamingos and tapirs and meerkats and PANDAS! San Diego zoo!

3. And then a lovely rest in the hot tub

4. and a gourmet dinner at...Wendy's! Grad students eating on the cheap.

5. Then Watchmen, to complete the semi-lazy but lovely day.