Thursday, June 29, 2006

Sorry folks, I'm beat.

I know a post is way overdue, and especially to explain my cryptic last post. But, I'm operating on a sleep deficit that you can't imagine, not to mention physical exhaustion. I will be posting soon, but every time that I try to start I get tired and have to stop. I'm really that tired.

For those of you who wrote to me worried, please don't. You are too sweet. I went on a little adventure and just got back. And, it was great fun. Worth the fatigue that I'm experiencing now.

Pirates of the Caribbean 2 premiere

That's me at the Pirates of the Caribbean Dead Man's Chest world premiere, press credentials around my neck. Shannon took the picture, which demostrates that I seriously need to practice the art of red carpet posing and smiling. Hopefully I won't end up on Go Fug Yourself as a Random Fug.

If you want, click on the photo to view it in larger format. More on the whole thing later. Bed is calling, no, cooing in my ear.

Wednesday, June 21, 2006

What have I gotten myself into? I must be out of my fucking skull. Pun intended. Vagueness that pun refers to very intended.

Friday, June 16, 2006

I watched Daniel Day Lewis in Last of the Mohicans on HBO Wednesday night. I hadn't seen it since it had been in theaters. After watching him and the man who played his brother Uncas, I just now managed to step out of my cold shower.


Hawkeye (left) Uncas (right)

During one of my city hiatuses, I moved to Lawrence, KS around the time when the movie came out. Lawrence is home to Haskell Indian Nations University and also has a decent sized Native American population. Lawrence is night and day to Topeka since it is a University town, including Kansas University. If I had to compare it to anywhere, it is like a larger Northern Exposure kind of town with its own pulse and vibe and eccentrics were abundant.

It was Christmas Eve, and I was sitting in church before midnight mass. My mom and Jack were both involved in church duties before service, so I was alone, sitting in a pew in the middle of the cathedral. I was pensive, thoughtful, looking at the stained glass, listening to the choir sing Christmas hymns and smelling the incense and candles. I sank into my seat and watched as people filtered in and settled. Sporadic rushes of cold air that smelled like sharp ice would waft over my face, let in through the side door at the front of the church. It was during one of those temperature fluxes that I looked up and saw him enter. It was Uncas from Last of the Mohicans. No, not the real one, but a dead ringer.

Well now, that was unexpected.

My jaw dropped as the gorgeous man walked in with his extended Native American family. Mom, dad, sisters, grandmother, all made their way to the back. Though I was ashamed of staring, because my gaping might be mistaken by them as ignorance or hostility, I couldn't turn away. His loose, long, jet black hair hung down his back, framing his high cheekboned face and angular jaw. He was tall and toned, with smooth tan skin and an intense but non-threatening stare. He wore a dark blue jacket and some sort of shirt that revealed the top of his hairless chest. Indian jewelry hung around his neck. Every female with a pulse turned and looked at this exotic, gorgeous man as he gracefully walked by and stirred our primal instincts as we sat inside the House of God.

After they settled into one of the last pews, I had a sudden urge to move to the back of the church. But, that would mean forfeiting my mom and Jack's spot so I could lust over Mr. Last of the Mohicans, and well that just wasn't a very nice thing to do on Christmas Eve.


So, I spent the service craning my head back, trying to get a glimpse. Mostly, I'd meet the eyes of the same old woman who moved her head "just so" every time I turned. She seemed to be determined to block my view, as if she knew why I was turning around and wanted to save me from my lustful, sinful thoughts. I restrained from yelling at her to move her damn head so I could see the Native God.

After I took communion, I walked back to my seat and saw him in the back, their family a bronze line in the sea of white faces. When the usher directed their row to go forward, I faced the front, waiting for him to pass. I had hope that my mom knew who the family was, and therefore who HE was. She knew everyone in their church. When he was even with us, I nudged my mom.

ME: Do you know him?

MOM: (studying the Native God) No, I don't.

ME: Fuck.

MOM: (admonishing) Anne.

ME: Sorry.

MOM: (glares, then softens.) I agree he's gorgeous.

ME: (embarrassed, defensive) I didn't say anything about that.

MOM: (gives me the I'm-your mother-and-see-through-your-BS look)

ME:(fidgeting) Can you ask any of your church busy body friends if they know him?

MOM: Sure, let's discuss it later though.

ME: Okay.

I had a feeling that several daughters were having the same conversations with their mothers as he passed their rows. Most likely sans the profanity.

After the service, the family, along with Mr. Last of the Mohicans, seemed to vanish into thin air. Days following, my mom asked the appropriate church ladies about the man. They all said they remembered seeing him but didn't know who he was.

Unfortunately, I never saw him again after that night. He was like a vision that sauntered in and out of my existence, never knowing the impression he made.


Monday, June 12, 2006

I woke up this morning screaming for help. I screamed so loud I woke myself up out of my dream. The dream was where I needed help, to keep three people from breaking into the home that I lived in through middle school until I left for college. I was yelling at my mom, who had come down in her bathrobe and went about her morning routine as if I wasn't holding the door against three people who wanted to break in. It was one of those frustrating dreams where I couldn't speak, so finally, with all the force I could muster, I managed to scream, "Help me!"

I woke, knowing I'd just screamed it aloud because I could hear myself upon waking. I laid there, shocked, and wondered if anyone heard me since my window was open. If so, did they think I was in distress? As I waited for the knock on the door, the phone rang. I wondered if someone had called 911 and they were calling me to see if I needed the police. I let it ring, still too stunned and out of it to move, and waited for my answering machine to pick it up. It was a woman trying to sell me satellite service. As she said she'd do anything to get my business, I righted my thoughts and sat up. I wondered what else I'd yelled in my sleep.

When I dream, I can have some incredible cursing tirades. Things I'd never say in real life stream from my mouth in my dreams like I have Tourrettes and just took crystal meth. I've many times feared that I'm saying those things in my sleep, and when my window is open, if my neighbors can hear me. I have a digital recorder that can record twelve hours straight. I've thought of putting it on my night table and leaving it on to see if I talk in my sleep. I've been afraid to do it, for fear of what I might find.

I also experience intense emotions while dreaming. In life, I suppress them, but in dreams they are free and magnified. Tears, anger, fear. Without the waking conscious, the subconscious lets loose. I'm much stronger, more animated in my dreams. More connected and human. For lack of a better word, more raw. Then I wake up and things become more sedated.

Even after I've screamed at the top of my lungs for help.

Sunday, June 11, 2006


For not posting.

But I needed a little break. No, I wasn't out of town, nor did I go to Mexico. I was just way overdue for a blog break.

So, here I sit on the eve of another Monday.

I've gotten my sleep habits as back in line. I bought a fresh batch of melatonin and there I was, nodding off again. Felt good, as I was worried. Yes, if you look at the time of this post I'm indeed up, but it's by choice. I'll take melatonin when I'm ready to snooze. Which will be soon.

Speaking of snoozing, why, WHY did I have to wake up a couple mornings ago at THAT exact moment of my dream with Christian Bale in the Batman suit? Could my wakefulness have just WAITED just a few minutes?

Now that I have that off my chest, I will continue. The temperature here has been agreeable and I haven't had the dueling climate control devices. In fact, the HEAT kicked on this morning. It's on a thermostat, and I had to feel my radiator to make sure that was indeed happening. It was. And, it was chilly outside. Which however, is not conducive to swimming. So, I've begun to roam again.

I rearranged my apartment. Just a tad. The couch is back, and has been for a few weeks. I may have mentioned that before, but if I haven't, it looks fabulous. I paid just $700 to have it reupholstered and "fluffed" back up. Considering that my couch has down cushions and metal tacks, that's quite a deal. And, it helped some women along on their journeys to give their lives a restart. Good for them, and well done ladies. For those of you who are in Baltimore, I highly recommend this place. It's called the Caroline Center, and I know it does a world of good for a great many people, and not just in the realm of people who want to learn reupholstery. Plus, they pick up and deliver. The cats are thrilled to have it back, as they now have a place to perch again. So now, as a matter of fact, do I.

And yes, I will post pictures of my beautiful couch soon. I've been slowly getting stuff up on Flickr. And, replacing the broken pictures on my blog. Yes, I know they are there and no, I haven't forgotten about them, not even the ones way back when. There's only so much I can do at a time before tiring of it.

Saturday, June 03, 2006

It's 3:38AM and I'm sipping an Amaretto on the rocks, listening to Coast to Coast. I'm getting nicely relaxed, sinking into my chair as I prepare for round two in my attempts to quell my night wanderings. I didn't swim today, so maybe I'm not physically tired enough to warrant sleep. It's coming though, I can feel it.

I went to Starbucks today and had to avoid eye contact with a man who has tried to chat me up there a few times. No big deal, he's a nice man. Russian, or Eastern European. A very nice man that I've entertained conversation with a couple times. Perhaps he's looking for companionship or a nice chat over coffee while he does his work. I'm looking for the one time during the day that I can concentrate on my work. At home, it's harder. I'm fighting many distractions there. I make progress at the coffee shop. Lately, a lot of progress. I feel bad staring at my laptop when someone is very obviously trying to make eye contact with me. I'm deliberately ignoring them and that feels mean. But, I do what I feel is necessary at the time. Maybe another time conversation will be what I'm looking for. But, not in the last few days.

One of the coffee shop workers came to sit with me at my table and let it slip that there was a store that opened near where I live. Well, not really near, but closer than the one I've been going to. He looked at me and said in all seriousness, "You aren't going to leave us, are you?" I was touched by this. His mother comes in to pick him up, because he's just out of high school and doesn't have a car, and the three of us chat. I feel like I've been let into their family and accepted as a friend. I'm honored to be let in, and it warms me. So no, I'm not going to leave them. The workers there call me one of their favorite customers. Having worked retail, I know that's an incredibly privileged title to earn.

Ah, the Amaretto is starting to do its work. I'm happily relaxed, and am going to give sleep another go. Perhaps it too, will let me in.

Thursday, June 01, 2006

Is anyone else having Lost and 24 withdrawl? I am, that's for sure. Both ended on the same week. Talk about cold turkey. And the loss of the ritual that my mom and I had, watching Lost and drinking cosmopolitans. That eventually made its way over to 24 as well. Both superior shows. Well done.

It's stifling hot here, and humid. I've taken advantage of the neighborhood pool a couple times. I've found a peace there in the water. It's a membership only pool, which is nice because it doesn't become overrun and overused. I go and see people I know, chat a bit, and do my laps. I go in the evening when it's still light but sunburn isn't a danger. It's been in the 90's, and I started out of need.

First, I need the exercise.

Second, since the show wrapped, I my went into night mode and it can be a lonely existence. I start my day late and therefore have half a day less to enjoy things that are open. The first day that I swam, I was in bed before midnight and completely stoked about it. My body tried to fight it, waking up at 5:40 in the morning. I got up, surfed the net a bit, went back to sleep. Defeated the purpose. The next day, I swam again, went to bed a bit before 1:00AM, did better. I still woke up frightfully early, but managed to go back to sleep and still get up at a decent time. Right now, my body isn't responding to melatonin. So, I tried exercise. It's been great, and I feel more human. The pool is a block from my house.

And oh, in this heat it feels so good to have my body surrounded by water.

The other thing that has certainly interfered with my sleep is the damn air conditioner. I can't sleep in a hot room, and certainly not a humid one. So, the air conditioner is a must for me. Unfortunately, I have a window air conditioner, and I hate it. HATE it. I hate being cut off from the sounds of the outdoors, and the persistent hum is annoying. Also, the coolness feels fake and stale. Even if I have the AC set on open, the air just feels canned in my room. Because my ceilings are so high, it's almost impossible to retain cool. I bought a dehumidifier, but what does that add? Another hum in the room! Great! I have the AC, the fan in front of the AC, and if I want to decrease the humidity, well gee, the HEAT producing dehumidifier. Yes, it produces heat because it takes in air, and spits it out.

I need a drink.