Monday, Mar. 29, 2004 - 12:07 a.m.
Cost of the War in Iraq
WARNING!!!! if you know me personally, you may read my diary, but if you do, you take the chance of hearing things you don't want to know, misunderstanding what I've written and being hurt by it. If you are unsure if it is ok to read, save yourself and me the grief and heartache, and ask first!!! Please note that this is a DIARY, ie my subjective feelings, hearsay, suppositions, and outpourings of ranting of the moment. It does not represent objective news, the whole of what I think of a topic or someone, or even a thought-out representation of any of the above. Keep that in mind. Thanks. * Here is a Diary Etiquette Read Me.
69 with Onewetleg on a Sunny Sunday
Well, it was a beautiful sunny day that I slept through today... I RAN through the wee bit of sunshine I saw, in order to get to the café before it closed at 5pm. oh well. I did go to the park AT 5pm so there were bits of sun very low to the horizon peeking through the trees. It was warm enough however that there is only a sandwich plate sized chunk of snow/ice on my front lawn (or what is left of it after my doggies turned turf into mudwallows). So I borrowed the grass rake from my neighbor (who was smart enough to do her raking at 3pm in the full blaze of spring warmth), and got rid of all the accumulated drifts of garbage, recycling and leaves. As well as the dead tomato and red runner bean stems on the trellises and up the front of the building. Pretty spiffy. yeah.
Now I'm inside reading Onewetleg's 69 things about me. which is very amusing. This is the girl who couldn't manage 101 things so I wrote a 101 things FOR her. hehe. Well, she does darn well for someone who professes inaptitude for such a thing. And very educational too! So far I learned what vintage Vera scarves are. And saw the trailer for ThumbWars (vs Star Wars), AND read a couple Tijuana Bibles, which would go well with the Rainier Ale which she extolls. That is a lot of learning squeezed into a 69 list that has peeing and body hair on it. hehe. Thanks Onewetleg!!
Hmm, I can see it is a good thing I slept so much... I have been so feeling tired lately. I think that if my throat feels like it was rubbed with sandpaper when I sneeze, it means I have some sort of spring bug. What do you think? achoo!! hehe.
I'll write another entry about last night... I went to a girls-only play party which was an absolute blast. But I will write about my sleep here. I had a very strange dream that I was visiting the cartoonist Donna Barr. She has a blog/ newsletter and has written briefly about being next to the ocean or somesuch. At least countryside of some sort. So my mind went off on that... now I THINK I know what it looks like at Donna Barr's house, and of course it is a complete fabrication of my sleeping head. Very close to the sea, with huge rocks coming out of the sand, and windswept grass. Quite lovely. I was thinking, hell yeah, sort of like Alison Bechdel being in Vermont... one thinks of these people as urban, branché, plugged in. They manage to write such great stuff, totally intelligent on the ball stuff. But they are both a wee bit wacky and largely antisocial in an interesting manner. Donna does stuff mostly horse (well centaur) and second world war German related, which I suppose one could write absolutely anywhere. So in my dream, next to the sea with wind, up near Seattle in Washington someplace.
Then for some reason she was having health problems. I don't know... it was suddenly urgent to give her a shot of something. There were boxes from a courrier service, with syringes and glass bottles of something in a vial. Suddenly we were in a moving car. It is hard to put liquid in a syringe from a glass vial in a moving car. I can't remember if she was resisting or only flailing about. But somehow the glass vial ended up breaking. There was broken glass everywhere. I was concerned that she would walk on it, or fall on it, or somesuch. At this point we weren't in the car anymore... the glass was on the ground. I was picking it up. I was holding it in my hands. Not enough hands.
Somehow I ended up putting the pieces in my mouth so they wouldn't be on the ground. That is just weird. But I have this very clear memory of my dream, with my mouth full of broken glass. It became ground glass. I was trying not to swallow it. Someone was getting me to spit it out onto a cloth or paper. It was hard to get out of my mouth. I was concerned about swallowing it, but for some reason when I swallowed, the glass didn't go in my throat but remained in my mouth. That feeling of a mouth full of sand from badly washed spinach, but glass instead. There wasn't any blood or cutting, just that sharp transluscent gritty feel and a knowledge it would be bad to swallow.
That's where it ended. The phone rang and it was the people who want me to take care of their dog for 12 days this summer. Yup that is cool. He's a great dog, total match for mine... a big dog who is slowmoving, passive (as long as no uncastrated males are around... then he is Mr. Macho) and sweet. Same age as my doggies and they are old friends.
But I still don't know if I got all the glass out of my mouth, and what happened to Donna without her injectable meds! Hope you're alright Donna! LOL!
Here is my horoscope for Sunday, March 28:***Yo! I'm still online writing this entry! Thanks for leaving now and coming back later! Read some of my older entries ok?!"
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Goodbye Michael. May your next life be kinder to you. - Thursday, Jun. 25, 2009
*inspired by Chaosdaily