Bad Dreams

Last night I had the wierdest dream. It seemed so real. I was having a bad night of indigestion from a chilli dog and I had taken a Pepcid AD to help before going to bed. Maybe it was the hotdog that caused all the dream strangeness. I am not sure. I only know that I thought I was awake and all that happening was real. It was all so strange. I went away this weekend and the I rented a room at a hotel. That is real and not part of the dream.

The dream begins with me in my hotel room, alseep in bed with the tv on. In reality that is what happened. I had been watching a movie on HBO and fell alseep. In the dream I am in bed sleeping and all of a sudden I wake up with a start. I hear a car drive up outside and I hear a cardoor slam. The sound of the car is very familiar. It sounds like the car of the guy I am seeing. What is he doing here. Out of town wth me? There is a knock at the door and I get up to open the door. It is him.

I open the door and he says that I need to take him to a convenience store. I am not sure what for. I have to drive him as he is tired. I do. It is about 3am in the morning. So I get behind the wheel and we drive to as convenience store. It happens to be in the worst part of town. There are homeless peoplel around and others who are just plain scary at 3am in the morning. I do not want to get out of the car, so he goes in. I am able to keep my eyes on him hoping that he will hurry. He does not hurry.

A homeless man approaches the car and knocks on the window asking for money. I motion for him to go away. He does not leave. He stays there knocking on the window. Right now I am the only car in the aisle in front of the store. I try to ignore him and them on the right passenger side, a woman who is a prostitute approaches the car dressed in just a baby tee and a thong. She knocks on the passenger side window. She tries to get into the car so I decided to drive up slightly. Maybe they will go away. I glance more at the store and I do not see my boyfriend anymore. Where the hell is he?

Another car pulls up behind me and I realize I have to get out of the way. He needs to get out of the lot. I park the car and immediately get out to find my boyfriend in the store. The first homeless man is now joined by two others and they come to me beggin for money. I yelled "no" and hurry on into the store. As I entered the store suddenly expands into a store that is as large as a department store. There are different areas for just chips, just sodas and just candy. Wierd. I wonder thru seeing unfamiliar faces and no boyfriend. I am then confronted by two girls who say that they are now wiht my boyfriend. I question them as to where he is and they do not say. I am suddenly back in the car with him and he is telling me he wants to be with those girls. I am upset.

Then I am back out of the car with him leaving with those 2 girls. I am yelling for him to come back. I do not know my way back to the hotel. I get out of the car as the three of them are heading away from me on foot. Suddenly I look around and a man who I do not know has stolen the car. I grab a bike that belongs to a homeless man and try to find them. After wondering around the streets on that bike for about 30 minutes I find the two girls but no boyfriend. They are yelling at me that he belongs to them now and not me. I throw the bike down and run after them.. They are running. I end up following them thru a brokendown fence in a cemetary. Still no boyfriend. I am bewildered, scared and afraid of the people of the night. I am a child of the day. I never find my boyfriend.

Suddenly I wake up from the dream and it is dark. The tv is still on. the time is 1:30 am. I get up, go to the bathroom and try fitfully to fall asleep again. It was a very long night.

Odd Man with Talon Hands

Snapshots In My Time...
Of My Time.....Hauntings.

there is a man in the office, odd and weird. "office btk" is whispered as he walks down the aisle. fixations with pretty brown haired girls are freaking people out. let a brunette begin to talk and he turns around. noone is talking to him. he is not a part of the conversation. he just stares. stares. stares. and stares some more. "office btk" has the office freaked out. his appearance? quite nerdlike. not quite normal. he appears in actions to be overly normal as if making up for something not right. family? yes. but no kids. he helps with charities and organizations dealing with kids. every mom there makes sure that her child is in no way affliated with anything he is a part of. "office btk" has everyone freaked out. others say all he needs is the non descript van. he is the perfect portrait of a child molester. that is what the mothers in the office say. noone will be surprised for a breaking news flash with his picture or that of a missing child or a murder. it is expected. i avoid him at all costs. he freaks me out. today he asked to borrow my stapler. he was in the area of me. i did not look up, just gave it to him. his fingers grazed the top of my hand. talons grazed me. talons that left an impression and a feeling of filth and decay. i had to wash my hands 4 separate times. i am glad i am not one of the brown haired girls under the constant watch and stares of "office btk." kansas has its' btk. we have ours..."office btk."

Flowers and Alchohol Do Mix

This was an interesting piece of news!

Giving some potted plants diluted alcohol -- whiskey, vodka, gin or tequila -- stunts the growth of the stem but does not affect the blossoms, said William Miller, director of Cornell's Flower Bulb Research Program. As a result, the houseplant does not get so tall that it flops over.

Miller reported his findings in the April issue of HortTechnology, a peer-reviewed journal of horticulture.

"I've heard of using alcohol for lots of things ... but never for dwarfing plants," said Charlie Nardozzi, a horticulturist with the National Gardening Association. "It sounded weird when I first heard about it, but our members say it works. I'm going to try it next year, just for curiosity."

Miller's study focused on paperwhite narcissus and other daffodils, but he has also had promising results with tulips.

Miller began his investigation last year after receiving a call from The New York Times about a reader who had written to the garden editor claiming that gin had prevented some paperwhite narcissi from growing too tall and floppy and asked if it was because of some "essential oil" in the gin.

Intrigued, Miller tested dry gin, unflavored vodka, whiskey, white rum, gold tequila, mint schnapps, red and white wine and pale lager beer, on paperwhites. The beer and wine did not work, probably because of their sugar content, he said.

"While solutions greater than 10 percent alcohol were toxic. Solutions between 4 and 6 percent alcohol stunted the paperwhites effectively," Miller said. "When the liquor is properly used, the paperwhites we tested were stunted by 30 to 50 percent, but their flowers were as large, fragrant and long-lasting as usual."

He Said...She Said!

He said... Want a quickie?
She said... As opposed to what?

He said... I don't know why you wear a bra; you've got nothing to put in it.
She said... You wear briefs, don't you?

He said... Do you love me just because my father left me a fortune?
She said... Not at all honey, I would love you no matter who left you the money.

He said... This coffee isn't fit for a pig!
She said... No problem, I'll get you some that is.

She said... What do you mean by coming home half drunk?
He said... It's not my fault...I ran out of money.

He said... Since I first laid eyes on you, I've wanted to make love to you in the worst way.
She said... Well, you succeeded.

Priest... I don't think you will ever find another man like your late husband.
She said... Who's gonna look?

He said... You have a flat chest and need to shave your legs, have you ever been mistaken for a man?
She said... No, have you?

He said... Why do you women always try to impress us with your looks, not with your brains?
She said... Because there is a bigger chance that a man is a moron than he is blind.

He said... Let's go out and have some fun tonight.
She said... Okay, but if you get home before I do, leave the hallway light on.

He said... Why don't you tell me when you have an orgasm?
She said... I would, but you're never there.

He said... Since I first laid eyes on you, I've wanted to make love to you really badly.
She said... Well, you succeeded.

He said... Shall we try swapping positions tonight?
She said... That's a good idea... You stand by the ironing board, while I sit on the sofa and fart.

He said... What have you been doing with all the grocery money I gave you?
She said... Turn sideways and look in the mirror you fat bastard

Something Crazy

Snapshots In My Time...
Of My Time.....Hauntings.

I see a pattern starting again. One of accusation not for the reality of that thing happening, but for the reality of hoping you will appear to be better in other's eyes. Why? Your mind is slightly twisted, your thinking slightly warped. Warped from the past abuses that only you know of. That is not my reality and yours appears crazy to me and crazy to others. Crazy in that the craziness is co crazy that it results in life changes.

"Church crazy" started some years ago. 95 or 97 or so. I can't recall the exact date. Just the circumstance. It started with the phone. Calls. We never knew who was calling. We never knew if it was male or female. We only knew a caller. Private. Requiring privacy for you. I thought friend. You never really had any real ones all my life so I thought this was great.

One day you talked to me about how you had chosen the wrong one to spend a life with. You told us that only you could go to church anymore as you had made a decision to be with the pastor. Why, he is married. Very, it seemed to me. Only you, so that the church could see a separation in the household. After a month I was to attend again with him so that I would be seen as supportive of him. That is your husband. My dad. Why am I now mixed up in the crazy. Why could I not attend church for a month and only go again with my dad?

Shock. Hurt. I knew you had lost your mind. Dad looked so sad. This kind of crazy I have know well and in the past. It is not real. The situation is not real. It is in your mind. All made up. You even wanted to move in with me. To get out of your house. You wanted me to get rid of my animals, my sofa, my freedom. My sanity. You wanted to live in my livingroom on a sofa bed. Oh HELL no! I got you an Apartment Finder. Your life was not with me. It would be the death of me. It would be the death of my sanity. I gained it back from all the years of crazy I endured when I was a child. I was not reliving it as an adult.

I waited. I watched. I knew that the crazy would finally end. Months later it did. You refused to sit on the same church pew with him. Dad. Still trying to show a separation. Yet you lived in the same house and rode in the same car. Daily. I waited. I watched. I refused to go to church. When I did go I had to listen to how you heard secret messages from the pulpit just for you. It was in your mind. Just as I knew it always was.

You became angry with me as I refused to give up my beloved sofa, my living room and my pets. You yelled that my cat was more important than you. It was. It was my sanity that was in my cat. In my sofa and in my livingroom. There were plenty of condos and houses and aparments out there. And you had money. You could live anywhere you wanted. Unlike me who was not as financially set. It was in your mind.

Soon other members began to snub you and talk about you and were envious of you. Or so you said. It was in your mind. I was not there to see, so I do not know what was real. From past experience, most of it was not, could not be possibly true. I waited. Soon the messages from the pulpit began to turn on you. You said they were all about you and against you. The enamorement changed to hate and ridicule. You accused him of talking about you from the pulpit to us. The crazy was only with us and we were sick of hearing about it. It was in your mind.

Soon the crazy took a public turn. You began to go to the church to have meetings with the pastor about the messages you were getting from the sermons as he spoke. I was there a few times. I heard just general statements to the congregation as it related to his sermon. I heard no secret messages. Finally after the 2nd or 3rd meeting, he convinced you that he was indeed speaking in general terms and no secret hidden messages were being delivered from the pulpit. You admitted to getting things all mixed up in your head. Finally. He was not leaving his wife for you.

That clarity was short lived. Now instead of positive messages, secret messages, now you heard negative ones. Sundays are supposed to be peaceful and full of praise. We had to heard a litany of this, that and the other for the rest of the day on Sunday afternoon. I learned not to come over on that day. It still was all in your head.

A big day came. A big day of crazy! You accused the pastor of staring at your breasts and at your feet and of having some sort of foot fetish. And of sending you mixed sexual messages. He is a man so who knows how much of that was true. I do not think any, as his wife and he were a very unified force as always. Our membership at our family church that we had been attending for four generations would soon be like so much dust in the wind. And all for something that was all in your mind. We stopped going for about 6 months and went back. The messages from the pulpit began again and every word he said was somehow all about you. It was all in your head. There was one last blow up that you told us about. You vowed never to go to that church again and demanded that noone else go either.

Now that did not sit well with me. I was not involved in any of the craziness. I just heard about it. Why could I not go to church? I went and it was hell with you. You saying that I was not being supportive. I disagreed. Everything with me and the church folk was just fine. Or so it seemed. I did notice that the immediate cronies of the ministers wife was no longer speaking to me and mine. That was uncomfortable. There was no fixing it either. I tried. It was because of you. I and mine did not go again. It was all in your head.

I looked around and found a new church. Me and mine attended for about 6 months. You jumped on the bandwagon. I was not pleased. That baggage, that garbage is still in your head. It has been 2 months since you joined. Accusations have begun against me publicly. Why? It is all still in your head.

The first was with a bible study. I had been going for months and you decided to attend the morning one. That was good. I was going at night. Well one day, you had not done your lesson in the booklet ahead of time and I guess was embarrassed in class. You called me that evening before mine and said that the minister would be talking to me. What? About what? Taking your book. Well, I have never seen your book or taken it. I have my own to do and complete. Needless to say the minister did not say anything to me. As it turned out she had done one page, several pages were stuck together and she had done several pages in another chapter. I had not taken your book, you had messed up your own and did not look at the page numbers. It was all in your head.

I am sure that ministers talk and so do ministers wives. The ministers wife of this church works with the ministers wife of our old church. I am sure that they have been told all the craziness. I cannot imagine that they have not been told. It is funny because sometimes when we are leaving and shaking all the hands after service, she will say, "minister, I need to talk to you." You can just call on the phone or talk to him at your bible study. It seems a way for her to feel like she is a part. She feels she has to have the ear of the minister. It is in your head and trying to get out.

I did a project that got congregational recognition. It ate you up inside. I was the reader last sunday. You asked how much notice I had, like it was a spur of the moment thing. My name was printed in the program. It was planned. I guess she will be trying to volunteer for that. She can't be left out, you know. I wrote a devotion that was used for the entire congregation. It was great and was used. She was asked to do one but it did not turn out well and was not used. She questioned if I actually wrote mine. She knows I did. It is what I do. Write things.

I attend a monday night ladies circle group. It kills her that I have a relationship with those other ladies that she does not have. I can tell. She is jealous. So jealous that it is making her crazy. I attend an adult sunday school. She has been hinting for about a month or so that she wants to attend. Thank god there are 2 other adult classes to attend. If she goes into mine, I will be moving on. It is all in her head and waiting to come out. She was having trouble with one of mine and was giving them a needed lecture. That was enougt. Her next thought? She was going to tell the minister and all her church mentors what a bad person sh e was. Do you know how crazy that will look? Here is a grandmother just walking up to various people and telling them bad things about her own grandchildren. And it would not even be true.

She said she was going to tell them that her grandchildren hated her and treated her mean. Why? A tween was being a tween...just a little attitude. Nothing out of the norm for a tween and nothing serious. What was the actual scenario? Refusing to do math when told. Does that warrant telling numerous people in your church congregation that your grandkids hate you and that is not the case? What will they think of our family? Mine?

I see it as a way to make others think less of me and mine and what I am doing in the church and to put the focus on her. Sick! It is all in her head. I immediately had to jump in and tell her that she was totally out of line and inappropriate suggesting that she would just begin to talk about her own family negatively. She then stepped into the poor old grandmother mode, trying to help a child who is ungrateful and how she did not deserve to be talked back to. All for not wanting to do math.

Something is building. Something bad. Made of jealousy, greed and negative attention. Something crazy. Something unreal and not based in any reality. Something all in her head. Something. CrAzY!