In flames, I sleep soundly

Wow, where to begin.

So Kevin and I moved into a new neighborhood and we had a housewarming party where we invited a bunch of neighbors over and got to know them. Something tells me this was a super important part of the dream but here’s how I recall my dreams if I know I can’t write it down immediately. I type “keywords” into my notes app on my phone and it helps jog my memory. I kept it super vague this morning so I don’t know what happened with the neighbors, I just remember it was cray. I was talking to them about our old neighborhood and how fucked up it was. We went for a walk around the neighborhood and my sister and husband were with me. There was a giant castle door that had fallen on a telephone line and took out some of the lights on that particular street. This neighborhood was WEIRD. Like futuristic, black mirror plot weird. Everyone was out and about. EVERYONE. Walking the neighborhood was like the hot trend, I guess. There was a man on his cell phone next to the castle door, talking to customer service and he was yelling “Can someone please help me translate this guy!”. In this dream, neighborhoods were like small cities that were owned by companies. So whenever there was an issue, you had to call customer service. If you wanted to renovate your house, you had to buy an upgrade package. Even your car would be owned by the neighborhood and you had to “upgrade” it as part of a package. Like there were different levels of class in the neighborhood, all sold in packages. Your package determined everything— from the way you dressed to your social status and everything in-between. So anyway, the man was trying to get customer service to send someone out to remove the castle door and restore the power. Kevin went over to help. Shannon and I found our way to a stream running through the middle of the neighborhood, which divided one class from the next. There were large boulders in the stream and as it rushed over the boulders and towards a little cobblestone bridge that connected the two neighborhoods, rapids formed. I must mention it was dusk. That’s very important. Because there was a weeping willow hanging over the stream but the vines were glowing like some serious Avatar shit. We were flipping out about how awesome it was. Soft, ambient glow and, for some reason, music was playing. I don’t know where it came from but it was The Yeah Yeah Yeah’s “Wedding Song”. The vines were gently swaying in the evening breeze. It was the most peaceful situation i’ve encountered in a while. Shannon grabbed a vine and went to swing over so I went with her. We landed just before the rapids and struggled to swim away from them. But when we got out, we were laughing and gasping for air.

We met up at a neighbor’s house and I remember she had a platform built for her sofa to sit on. Her sofa was orange, deep and comfy. Raven Symone was the lady’s daughter.

The dream switched up and a crowd of people that had apparently went missing at some point in time, suddenly reappeared. Everyone in the neighborhood was rushing to help them. They were all naked. They were speaking a language that no one could understand. They were rounded up at some sort of common area/community center. I don’t know how or why I was there but no one could understand them so one of them started communicating telepathically to me and a couple of other people and we realized that they did not remember their former identities. They thought the were aliens. They seriously thought they were from another planet and I can’t remember the name. Not that it matters. Shit was fucking WEIRD. I drank a cup of coffee before bed last night. My dreams keep life interesting.

This song was playing at some point during the alien shenanigans.


I took the kids to see a civil war reenactment this past weekend. That’s not what I want to talk about, though. I’m burnt out. We seriously went back for a second round on Sunday and I am still mentally exhausted from it (even though I full plan on watching Gettysburg tomorrow night because i’m on this big patriotic kick, rn.). While we were there on Saturday, two little boys around Vayda’s age were sitting right behind us. One of the boys worked up the nerve to talk to her and she was very short with him. He pulled out every trick he had to get her to talk to him. Even showed her some weird thing he could do with his fingers and all she could manage to say was, “Wow, so cool. And Weird.” So on the way home, I told her it wasn’t nice that she wouldn’t talk to them. She said she was shy, which, I knew that already. So I asked her why she was shy. She said she didn’t want to say or do anything stupid. I told her it takes a lot of courage for kids to talk to other kids because, most of them are just as nervous as she is. I told her that the little boy was probably really nervous about talking to her and he probably felt really dumb when she blew him off. She said, “Well, i’m shy! I can’t help it!” as if it were an excuse. I said, “Vayda, you may know that very well. He didn’t, though. He didn’t know you were shy. For all he knew, you were just a mean little girl that tried to make him feel stupid.” She felt really bad. I had a talk with her about how we can’t let our shyness make others feel bad because, then, we’ll be making them feel the EXACT WAY we DON’T want to feel. The very reason we are shy, fear of looking stupid, fear of rejection, fear of humiliation….. is what we bring on other people when we dismiss them because of our shyness.

I was shy as a kid. I eventually grew out of my shyness but one thing I never grew out of was the anxiety I feel when people are watching me. I went to the same school through elementary. I knew everyone there. I was friends with everyone in my classes. Even still, if my pencil lead broke, I would do everything I could to avoid getting up to sharpen it. If a nearby friend didn’t have one, I would actually use my broken pencil led and scribble the best I could. It was that bad. The idea of being watched by so many people as I walked to the pencil sharpener was horrifying. And these were people I KNEW. I could talk to people just fine when it came down to it. But I hated being watched, even by people who knew me. It still gets to me. When I go places and see people staring at me, I feel like I can’t swallow properly, can’t walk properly, I literally feel weak. My heart races. When I got on the interstate this morning, I noticed the guy in front of me was watching me through the rearview. It was so uncomfortable so I sped around him and that was that. When I drive to work, i’m always in my own world with my windows down and my music blaring. It’s my happy place. I really don’t mind the commute because I love listening to music that much lol. I hit traffic on the bridge, it came to a complete stop. Still, music was loud, I was zoned out. I happened to look next to me and some guys in a utility truck were staring at me and smiling. I thought I was going to have a heart attack, no joke. I checked my watch and it jumped up to 141 beats a minute. I felt like I was going to have a panic attack because my heart was racing so badly. I would prefer people just talk to me than to stare at me. I can talk just fine. I can laugh and be confident because I am facing that person, reading their body language, listening to them speak, understanding them. When people stare at me, I have NO FUCKING CLUE what they could be thinking. Are they plotting to kill me? Do I look fucking weird? Is something wrong with my hair? Something on my face? Do they think i’m fat? Do they think i’m older than I actually am? Younger? Is something wrong with me WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU???!!! STOP STARING. It is so. fucking. un. comfortable. I hate not knowing what people are thinking. I am not a mind reader but I have a better idea as to what’s going on when someone talks to me as opposed to when they just fucking stare at me. I remember in one of my college classes, this guy used to just stare at me like he thought he was invisible or something, like he had no fucking clue that I could tell he was staring. Or maybe he just didn’t care. He ended up giving me a picture he drew of me….. while he was staring, of course. I was slouched in my chair, leaned over with an arm up, looking down at my picture. And while I was doing that, he was fucking drawing it. And it was flattering and sweet but I don’t like being watched and judged. If I feel like someone is watching me, I will pretend they don’t even exist. Remember how when you were a kid, you thought that if you couldn’t see a person, they couldn’t see you? Like so long as something was blocking your eyes from seeing them, they couldn’t see you lol. It’s like that. What I can’t see can’t hurt me. So I just ignore it entirely until I can get away. That’s what I did this morning. I smiled back and had a mini fucking panic attack until I could get away from them. This happens so frequently when I am driving and it’s miserable. I wish I didn’t care. There was a little stretch of time where I honestly didn’t. I could walk in crowds of people and not feel the slightest bit uncomfortable. I could return a person’s gaze and not even flinch. But now, not so much. I’m back to feeling super fucking uncomfortable again. I’m not shy. I’m totally comfortable with who I am. Not comfortable with who you are. Unless we are actually talking, you’re probably making me feel uncomfortable and I am plotting my escape before I legit have a heart attack. Thanks, anxiety.

Subject change.

I like being left the fuck alone, basically.

Like these guys, prancing around in a field. I am 100% down for all of the shit happening in this video. Those are my people.



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