Repressing My Inner Fairy Princess

Last night I had a dream that I was a pirate. But, I wasn’t a very good one. Okay, here’s the dream. I was a pirate and I was wearing a long white dress and no shoes. (Again I’m dreaming I’m not wearing shoes? I know the importance of proper footwear! Maybe my feet are wanting to be naked more often.) Those of you who know me, know that I am not a girly girl and in fact don’t even own a dress. The reason, in my dream anyway, that I was wearing a dress and worrying about how I looked was because what I really wanted to be was a Fairy Princess. I don’t even know what the proper definition of “Fairy Princess” is, but that’s what I wanted to be, not a pirate.

Anyway, there was the captain who wore a blue coat and the first mate who was a blue teddy bear (I believe he is an incarnation of a teddy bear named Bluey that my grandma crocheted for my little brother over 30 years ago). He was sweet as all get out but in my dream he was as dumb as a post. Poor captain to have such a lousy crew. While the captain sailed the boat, the first mate and I wandered the ship pulling on random ropes and saying “aye” a lot. After a while, the sea got stormy and the ship started taking on water. We were sinking. (What are you sinking about?)

The first mate and I started trying to rescue things. The captain wanted us to get things like the gold booty we’d pillaged, but instead I was rescuing things like the dishes and snow globes. I was mostly worried because I knew we should have stopped at Home Depot to get some wood and nails and just repaired the ship instead of trying to sail all the way home with a big hole in the boat.

I think I had this dream because I am neither one. I’m not a pirate nor a fairy princess. I think that’s pretty much a summary of my last post: “Maaike…if you were a girl…” I can’t seem to find the world I fit in.

I guess I’ll have to make my own. Anyone want to join me?

Maaike…if you were a girl…

I’d rather play baseball than dolls. I’d rather dig in the dirt or swim in the canals than have a “tea party.” I’d rather watch explosions, par cour, car chases, and gunfights than a bunch of women trying to “solve” what’s wrong with men. I’d much sooner laugh at MXC and poop jokes than paint my nails and think I’m above all of that.

Hi. I’m a girl. I have C cup size boobies, have pretty hands, nice lips, a fantastic booty…and, if you’re still not convinced that I’m a girl, I also have a vagina.

People have heard me say that I'd rather watch an action movie instead of a romance because "It's far more likely that aliens will come down and try to take over the earth than it is that a man would carry a woman through a puddle." Don’t get me wrong, I believe in romance. Totally and utterly. I just had to quit “believing” in it because I happen to know that in real life that crap doesn’t happen to me.

I fantasize about coming home to my apartment to find a vase full of purple and yellow irises, a beautifully written card, and the guy of my dreams standing there with open arms.

I love romance. I absolutely melt when Colonel Brandon sees Marianne for the first time. The look he has on his face when she’s playing piano…that makes me want to believe in love. When Elizabeth meets Mr. Darcy on his property and he treats her so well when in other meetings he was so awkward that she learned to despise him. When Mr. Knightly is so adamant about the fact that he and Emma are NOT brother and sister. I LOVE those things and I absolutely fall to pieces when Jane Austen talks about romance.

The other night I had a dream that I gave up 10 IQ points for true love. And the truth is, I’d do it. I’d go from getting mostly A’s to getting B’s if that meant that some guy would reach over nervously to hold my hand for the first time. Not knowing if I would accept or reject his attempt, but he’d take that chance. Mmmm. Then I’d take his hand too and he’d stop being nervous. Until the next step…to lean in for a kiss. Mmmm. I totally believe in romance. I just don’t “believe” in romance.

Does that make any sense?

I miss you, Sugar Mama!

Christina moved to Seattle. I blame Nathan. He took her. He’s a good guy, don’t get me wrong, and I totally understand why Christina would move to Seattle with Nathan and not stay here in Moscow with me. But I have to say, that “I missed you, Mama!”

Last Thanksgiving when Daniel and I stayed with them when we went to see The Decemberists, D and I took a break from each other. He stayed with his brother and I stayed with Christina (Bobina Yolanda Hoop). Well, when Christina and I were in a fast food Mexican restaurant (one of our favorite kinds) she decided to buy me lunch. I don’t remember how the entire conversation went, but it ended with Christina calling herself my Sugar Mama and totally freaking out the guy behind the counter. HA!

Christina and I quote Eddie Izzard to each other all the time. And she knew we were destined to be friends when I started singing “You look easy and willing to put out, so roll in the cream cheese, roll in the cream cheese!” And I knew we were destined to be friends when she shouted, “I know where that comes from!”

When we get together we don’t have to explain ourselves. So, my friend Christina, I say here to you: I have invented a maneuver…

And here’s a question for the rest of you to ponder: Is it bad for people with severe peanut allergies to think about Jimmy Carter?

Hi World…Meet Jack!

I was looking around my apartment thinking of my stuffed animals that surround me. Galloomph sits on a chair with his stuffed animal (who’s name I don’t know…Galoomph doesn’t talk). There’s Eddie-Phil (my teddy-bear with multiple personality disorder—who talks all the time) sitting on my bed.

There are my three art-piece women: Petey, Emily, and Natalie…(Full titles: Petey’s Body Issues, Emily Gets the Blues, and Natalie’s Weirder Qualities.) Persimmon, Jonty, Cheer Bear and a myriad of unnamed stuffed animals on my bookshelves. The string of dead things in the corner—“Unnamed Dead Things” –I think that title is going to come into play in my near future. Six unnamed monkeys…and Jaques-o-sock-o my French sock monkey.

My plant in the Alien head pot that sits on top of the fridge is named “Ed the Head.” He is often left in charge when I’m gone because he can see everything from up there. (I’m worried that the plant is on its last legs…if it dies, what will Kylie think of me!)

There’s my car named A.J. (short for “A.J. Crowley’s Burning Bentley”), my bike, Madeline, and we can’t forget my computer who’s named Chesterfield Snapdragon McFisticuffs.

And now, there’s Jack. My skateboard. His name is Jack because he has skeletons on his wheels. If you don’t get it…then you’ll have to just wonder. He has pink hardware, but he’s secure enough in his manhood to know that it doesn’t mean anything. He has Pig risers and ATM “Fast as Hell” bearings. He’s SWEET! Sure, he’s a hand-me-down from Mouse, but he’s sweet as hell. Actually, both Jack and Mouse are. (Sweet as hell, not hand-me-downs.)

So everyone, say hello to Jack! And when the other animals around me tell me their names, I’ll introduce to you them as well.

Hey Pinster! Don’t trust chicks!

Daniel Craig as James Bond? Yes. Brilliant action scenes, especially at the airport and when the SWEET car gets rolled about 15 times. Love scenes? Ick. No. Good morning Danielle Steele. Don’t think so.

Moral to the story: Don’t trust chicks.

Daniel M. won’t call himself a “bachelor” because it sounds pretentious. We were trying out minster…as in a mashing of “male spinster,” but it means “a monastery church,” so I’ve suggested “pinster.” Spinster without an S. The jury is still out. (update: pinster is approved!) He has chosen to be a pinster. I haven’t chosen to be a spinster…but, c’est la vie! And as long as we live near enough to laugh together that’s fine with me.

But I have to say this:

Don’t trust chicks. There are very few I actually call “friend.” Why? Because the meanest and most hurtful things that have been said and/or done to me in my life have been by other women. Sure, men come around, tell me I’m fat and break my heart, but they don’t do it to gain ground themselves! Or to make themselves look better in front of someone else. Or to just be mean. Women are vicious and vile and I suggest every one of you keep an eye out.

I’ve told Kylie my most recent “adventure,” but I’m not going to tell it here. I’m trying to remain “objective.” Let’s just say if I had a closet I’d go inside it and cry, but as I don’t have one, I’ll have to wash my dishes and laugh. I’d tell you the stories of the mean things that women have said/done to me throughout my life…up to and including the present. And I’ll break into tears and never leave my house again. But instead I’m going to take a moment to list the great women in my life:

Kylie, Sally B., Sally E-H, Ginger, Michelle, Serena, Jana, Erin, Christina, Jade, Tennille, Katie, Krysta, Yukako, and Amy

Okay, other than them, me and my mom…and maybe your mom. Don’t trust chicks!

"Merlin, I swallowed a BUG!"

ACK! I was riding home on my bike when I swallowed a bug! It flew into my mouth, hit the back of my throat (causing what I was sure was an impact crater) and, since there was nothing left to do, I swallowed. I swallowed a BUG! I was SO GROSSED OUT! I hate bugs. I really do.

I called my Mom, “Mom, I swallowed a bug!”

“What kind was it?”

“I don’t know, but I hope it was really small.”

I was still freaked out and in need of some kind of comfort. I drank some water, hoping that would help, but it most certainly did not. I dialed the phone…got a machine…

“Kylie and Ted! I swallowed a bug! I am so grossed out! I’m coming over, I’ll be there in a bit…but I swallowed a bug!”

Is there no one to comfort me? I dialed a third time.

“Will, I swallowed a bug!” There was more ranting, but I also got his machine and I needed help in person.

I drove to Daniel’s to pick him up to take him over to dinner. I told him, “Daniel, I was riding my bike and I swallowed a bug!” There was a smile. “I think I’m going to die from some bug ridden disease! That way, when I’m dead in the morning and the police contact you trying to figure out what happened, you can tell them I swallowed a bug.”

“There’s always a chain of events.”

“Yes, there is. And I’m going to die from swallowing a bug.”

Well, here I am, in bed, waiting for my death scene. And no one even hugged me after swallowing a bug. I will die with a bug in my belly and no hugs in my arms.

I swallowed a BUG!

P.S. I am sorry bug, I didn’t mean to cause your untimely death, but, since I’m going to die tonight from swallowing you, you have caused my untimely death. Ah, the circle of life in action.

No, you don't understand...

I love to CRUNCH!

Okay, the outside of the bag reads: New York Style Roasted Garlic Bagel Crisps. But it lies. I think I got plain ones. Either that or New York’s idea of “garlic” and mine are so very different. What good are garlic-flavored things if you can’t offend people three seats over with your breath. I might as well have just eaten a marshmallow peep for as much garlic as there are in these crisps. The last batch was perfect. I think this one got mislabeled.

But the truth is, regardless of the garlicky-ness of it, I love to crunch. No, you don’t understand. I LOVE to crunch.

I was crunching something the other day and I said to Kylie, “I love how loud things crunch inside my head.”

“Does it drowned out the voices?” she said.

“You know," I said, thoughtfully, "it does. It really does."

P.S. None of this is actually true…or is it?

Writer’s studio was canceled today…so I decided to go on an adventure. “What kind of adventures does Maaike go on?” you’re wondering. Most of them are in my head. Like when I was the Captain of a starship called the USS Blacksheep and my crew and I conquered evil all over the cosmos. Others are of me sitting on a plane flying to England to visit Daniel when the seat next to me is occupied by someone like Goran Visnjic who, of course, falls madly in love with me by the end of the flight from New York to London.

But today’s adventure was not in my head…it was on my bike.

Madeline is her name. She used to be a tough street bike owned by David Eames-Harlan, but when I bought her, I put a basket on the back (that still has the sticker from Good Will: $1.99) and covered up the “pretty” parts with electrical tape (because it makes it less appealing to bike thieves). Her name is Madeline because of The Decemberists “The Apology Song” in which a bicycle named Madeline got stolen.

Some of you know that my recent “thing” is to ride my bike as fast as I can in a “traffic be damned” manner. Yes, I know it’s unsafe. I’ve spent my whole life doing what’s safe. Give me a break. HA! Brake! What a choice of words for this story. (Hint: It has to do with Madeline’s brakes, not bones breaking.)

Oh, interjection here for a moment. I told Bishop Redford last night that despite my actual physical age, I know that I am younger than that. I was thinking 27 would work for me. Then there was a conversation between Brian Gibbons, Brandon Lettow, and myself involving my other Daniel’s rope:

“You can tie him up with it.” Said Brian.

“I don’t want to know anything about that!” Brandon said.

“Brandon, when it comes to that kind of stuff I’m basically 12.”

So if I average it all together that would make me 25.3 years old. That’s okay by me. Except I still reserve the right, nay, the privilege, of being a Scorpio. (I have to admit, I love scaring the hell out of people with my Scorpio-ness. It’s a joy. An evil joy.)

Interjection part 2: I got kicked out of my very first place skateboarding the other day. I am slowly arriving into the culture. I bought some Vans so I can skate better. I know it will help. The pink hardware helped. As did knowing that I have pig risers. And my new wheels are in the mail! OLE!

Back to the story. Riding Madeline really fast.

I rode one direction on the trail…saw some bikers and some joggers and a jogger that was running like a girl. In short shorts. It amused me. The way back I rode on the sidewalk…and made in important discovery:

Chubby girls on bikes trying to get thin are most likely to be run over by skinny girls in cars, coming out of fast food restaurants trying to get fat.

My other discovery: I am beautiful. I have a pretty face, a gorgeous smile, amazing hands and a perfect heart-shaped butt. HOWEVER, I often forget this…so please, if you have a compliment for me. I’ll take it.

I’ll probably never be thin again. But I’ll always be me. I like me. I hope you do to.

Oh…and Madeline needs new brakes.

Here's the song:

"The Apology Song"

I'm really sorry Steven
But your bicycle's been stolen
I was watching it for you
'Til you came back in the fall
Guess I didn't do a good job after all

I was feeling really sorry Steven
And I spent all morning grieving
And everybody's saying
That you'll take the news gracefully
Somehow I don't think I'll be getting off so easily

I meant her no harm
When I left her unlocked
Outside the Orange Street Food Farm
I was just running in
Didn't think I'd be that long
I came out, she was gone
And all that was there was some bored old dog
Leashed up to the place where your bicycle had been
Guess we'll never see poor Madeleine again

Let this be consolation, Steven
That all the while you were in England
I treated her with care and respect
And gave her lots of love
And I was usually pretty good 'bout locking her up

Where has she gone?
Well, I bet she's on the bottom of the Frenchtown pond
Rudely abused on some hescher's joyride
So I wrote you this song
In the hope that you'd forgive me
Even though it was wrong
Being so careless with a thing so great
And taking your poor Madeleine away, away

Boundaries...WTF?

So, here’s the story. A group of relatively shy guys, some not so shy ones, and some girls. In a small room. Posing for a photo. Someone says, “this looks posed.” To which I say, “Then do something…pretend you’re from the theatre department.” Not missing a beat, Sally points a finger and aims it at Will’s nose. Will slowly backs away while sporting a rather amusing “WTF” look on his face. HA! I had to laugh. “Sorry, Will,” I say, “Sally really is from the theatre department.”

My personality has been described as “big.”

I have no problem with that.

Others around, however, should know that in the theatre department we learn by breaking down personal boundaries…and invading those around us.

Maaike Conquers the Mole People

Okay, maybe not "mole people" but I have come to terms with a mole.

In an effort to try to build my self-esteem I am taking "baby steps" to look at myself differently. Last Sunday I dressed up rather nicely. My hair was big, yet perfect, my eyes were shadowed in green and I wore the jade necklace Amy made for me. I looked at myself in the mirror and I thought, "I am exotic. I am beautiful." And, although I got no compliments at church, I felt beautiful all day.

Today I was combing my wet hair after getting out of the shower (no one knocked at the door...so no "good deed" today) and my hair parted so that the ugly mole on my head was in the middle of my part for all the world to see. But, my first thought was not to cover it up. Instead I thought, "Why are there are so many parts of myself I am always hiding? I hide them until they suddenly spring to the surface and scare the hell out of people."

So, I didn't hide my mole today. I'm going to let it be out there. Let the world see my flaws. They may run away from me...

but the strong ones will stay.

Thank you, strong friends, who see my crazy and don't run away.

Why Are There Still Tears?

I called my brother last night. Just wanted to talk, really. And I suddenly found myself crying again. Why are there more tears?

Move on. Get over it. Bounce back. Call it quits.

You know what? I think I'm done with love. Love is an evil bastard.

You win I, I cede this ground to you. It's yours and I no longer care.

“When someone leaves you, apart from missing them, apart from the fact that the whole little world you've created together collapses, and that everything you see or do reminds you of them, the worst is the thought that they tried you out and, in the end, the whole sum of parts adds up to you got stamped REJECT by the one you love.”

When You Talk to Yourself...Let The Eels Do The Talking

"I've Been Kicked Around"
Well i've been kicked around/Whatd'ya see/Am i alright/I'm alright/Well i've been kicked around/Whatd'ya see/Am i alright/I'm alright/I once had a heart/I was ripped from it/Chewed up then spat out/Like a cherry pit/And if i seem a little hard/It's just that i've been kicked around/I don't know how i got this far/The way that i've been kicked around/Well i've been kicked around/Whatd'ya see/Am i alright/I'm alright/Well i've been kicked around/Whatd'ya see/Am i alright/I'm alright/I once had a soul/It was torn from me/I won't cry a tear/I will carry me/And if i seem a little hard/It's just that i've been kicked around/I don't know how i got this far/The way that i've been kicked around/Don't worry/I'm alright

"Fitting In With The Misfit"
Dear ma/You might find it hard to believe/But i think i finally found a home/The weather's lovely/There's so much to see/And people who know what i know/Now i've got friends that do want me/And take me as i am/Now i've got friends that do love me/I'm alright with them/Fitting in with the misfits/Living in the lost and found/And i will never be afraid/For lost souls/Don't know where/They're bound/Dear ma/I know this is hard for you too/But some things are better off said/I've always found it so hard to adjust/I'd rather stay in bed/Now i've got friends that do want me/And take me as i am/Now I've got friends that do love me/I'm alright with them/Fitting in with the misfits/Living in the lost and found/And i will never be afraid/For lost souls/Don't know where/They're bound

"Permanent Broken Heart"
I walked by your window/To see if you're home/The candle was burning/I could see you weren't alone/I shouldn't have gone by/But what could i do/I've never known anyone/Who was quite like you/Life ain't very easy when you've got/A permanent broken heart/I walk down the dirty street/And see the old man/But now he seems different/I think i understand/Well maybe he had a love/And swore it was true/But then he blew it away/Just like i lost you/Life ain't very easy when you've got/A permanent broken heart/I'm looking out my window/There's not much of a view/And my hat is still quite blue/Maybe i'll move away/To some other town/And maybe I'll find that thing/I've never found

"My Descent Into Madness"
Springfield's looking pretty dusty today/I see their dreams coming undone/The view from inside ward nine affords this much/A town teeming with the unloved/Close the window and lock it so it's good and tight/La la la la la la la la la la la la la/Turning eighteen and trying not to look too lost/Have a not so nice day/The jacket makes me straight so i can just sit back and bake/You know i think i'm gonna stay/Talking very loud but no one hears a word i say/La la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la/Come visit me tonight at eight o'clock/And then you'll see how i am not the crazy one/Voices tell me i'm the shit/Twenty days go by and every day looks the same/La la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la/I'm the shit

"The Medication Is Wearing Off"
See this watch she gave me?/Well it still ticks away/The days i'm claiming back for me/The medication's wearing off/Gonna hurt not a little, a lot/Keep on tickin' you're not lickin' me/Step on a crack break your mother's heart/Red light green light black/Suicide e-mail do not delete/Plug it back in the jack/Start to be what they want you to be/And you see yourself as they see you/Sunrise on the corner of/Sunset and alvarado/I think what the hell do I do now/Watch the day disintegrate/So i can stay up late and wait/See this watch she gave me?/Well it still ticks away

"Somebody Loves You"
Woke up with a bang/And a bug on your face/It crawled in your mouth/And gave you a taste of
The good life you left behind/But i think you're gonna be fine/Somebody loves you/And you're gonna make it through/This nagging malaise/Is more than a phase/It feels like a job/But no boss ever pays you to lay there/And think how you'll die/While the tears start to well in your eyes/Somebody loves you /And you're gonna make it through/One more saturday/All alone through the night/You've got to be sure/When you turn out that light/That it's going to turn on again/You've got to be your good friend/Somebody loves you/And you're gonna make it through

"I'm Going To Stop Pretending That I Didn't Break Your Heart"
I'm gonna tell you what you need to hear/And i'm a little too late/By three or four years/And it may not make much sense/Now that we are apart/But i'm going to stop pretending/That i didn't break your heart/You see i never thought enough of myself/To realize that losing me could mean/Something like the tears in your eyes/And i want to tell you i'm sorry/And it's too late to start/But i'm going to stop pretending/That i didn't break your heart/And it's christmas eve/Years down the line/Sitting here wishing i'd treated you better/When you were mine/And i have no way of knowing where you are/But i'm going to stop pretending/That i didn't break your heart/I didn't mean to hurt you/I didn't know what i was doing/But i know what i have done

"I Need Some Sleep"
I need some sleep/It can't go on like this/I tried counting sheep/But there's one I always miss/Everyone says I'm getting down too low/Everyone says you just gotta let it go/You just gotta let it go/You just gotta let it go/I need some sleep/Time to put the old horse down/I'm in too deep/And the wheels keep spinning 'round/Everyone says I'm getting' down too low/Everyone says you just gotta let it go/You just gotta let it go/You just gotta let it go/You just gotta let it go

Now THAT'S funny!

I was trying to tell someone that I got my heartbroken, but I said that I got my "Hair-broken". HA! Now that's funny! My hair's not broken. I guess after that laugh my heart's doing pretty good, too!

My ability to bounce back has slowed down a bit since I've gotten older, but thanks to good friends (Sally, Donna, Kylie, Erin and Erin today!) I've got a support system that ROCKS!

Horriblescope

"That smooth-talking hottie may have their obvious charms, but what about that person with quirkier appeal who doesn't have so much to prove? Subtlety has its virtues and beauty's only skin deep."

That was my horoscope for the day. DUH! I always choose the quirky guys! Tell them to start looking at the quirky girls!

Dorks.

Clean Floors and Corn Chips

I wanted to sleep last night. I wanted to sleep so badly. But I couldn’t. My brain just wouldn’t stop and the space in my chest where my heart was just hours before was aching so painfully I thought my ribs were collapsing.

Trying to make myself tired I ended up wandering my apartment at 2:00 am. I thought about trying my “running for my life” idea…but the truth is if you’re a woman and you’re going to run for your life, you’re going to want a good bra. And since it was 2:00 am and what I really wanted to do was sleep, there was no way I was going to put my bra back on.

So, I did some crying and wandering and then I went back to bed. I woke up at 8:30, took a shower, called Kylie and cried to her. I’ve known Kylie for six years-ish, and this is the first time I’ve cried to her. I think. I don’t cry…a lot. But this really hurt.

When I was walking to the post office this morning, I had my sunglasses on and I was walking really fast and crying. I guess one thing was good: I got some exercise. In the mail I got a package from a girl named Erin in Florida. She sent me some Easter goodies and a story about her adventure trying to bake a cake—which was SO much like many of my baking stories that I was LAUGHING out loud! (It was strange to sit there and think how a stranger saved me today. I’m going to write back to her. I think she’s my newest friend.) I also heard from my friend Erin in Seattle. Which was great, and slightly ironic.

In my attempts today to make sense of the nonsense I decided to clean my bathroom floor. I’d rearrange my apartment (like a certain friend of mine does when she’s having life issues: wink, wink!) but there really isn’t anywhere to put things. So, I was cleaning my floor when it dawned on me that I needed some corn chips.

It’s good to know that my mind could find something so mundane in the swirling eddy.

Drawing My Dream

Today I was writing a letter to my friend Daniel in England. Well, it was a bit ambitious of me to actually write a letter and not type it because writing takes FOREVER. At the end of the letter I abandoned prose and turned to art. I drew him stick figures to show him what I dreamt last night. After I drew them I realized two things: 1) it was a CRAZY-ass dream and 2) it was typical of all my dreams. Here’s what happened:

I was in a fabric store. It was closed and dark. It was filled with small children and the baddie: a girl who was thin and blond (that can be explained by the fact that I decided to write a play called “I killed all the little girls” about a big girl who kills off all the petite women because she’s sick of them bitching about being petite. And it's further explained by the facts that I don’t like blonds…or, really, a lot of women). I managed to load up all the kids into a yellow raft suspended to the ceiling and lit by glowing green lights. To set them free I had to run a gauntlet through the fabric store while the baddie lobbed cannon balls at me. I tried to get some sleep before the madness began but the baddie sneaked up to where I was sleeping and put a coffee can there so she could mark where to start. Now, I had to plan this perfectly. I couldn't run the gauntlet too fast as it could put the children in danger, and I could also not run it too slowly as the portal to safety wouldn't open. I had to do math to figure out where to really start running. (This is probably explained by the fact that I wanted to start practicing “running for my life.” If you want THAT explained you’d have to ask me directly).

Math is not my strong suit...especially if I'm asleep. I guess my mind couldn’t handle it either, because I then dressed up as a pirate (a la Jack Sparrow in “Pirates of the Caribbean”) and went to the record store. As I was standing in line, two vampires were really bothering me. For some reason they really didn’t like pirates…and I didn’t have anything against them, but they just weren’t treating me nicely. I guess that’s vampires for you…never thinking they have to explain anything. So, my brain put me back into the fabric store.

The baddie was distracted (probably watching herself in a mirror) so I, dressed as a pirate, wandered the store and found a bunch of discarded furniture. That’s blonds for you, they always get whatever they want so they don’t need to treat anything with care. Then I suddenly realized that I’d dreamt this before and had already saved the children so what was the point in doing it again.

The dream then took me to a magic show. I walked in to the room and it was set up for a buffet. They gave me a plate and told me to help myself. The room was empty except for one table with two guys sitting at it. I made myself a plate and asked the guys if I could join them. They said yes and we had a wonderful time conversing. As we talked, more and more people came in and suddenly I caught a glimpse of a sign that read: “magic show and dinner $7.00”. Well, I didn’t pay for it but everyone thought I did. I was really feeling guilty and didn’t know what to do. Should I pay? Did I have money? All of that stuff… Then the good looking guy I was sitting with said, “I am really busy, but I’m going to give you my phone number because I like you and I’d like to get to know you better. My number is *28.” I don’t know what star 28 means, as far as phone numbers go, but maybe he programmed my phone for speed dial. I don’t know. But he got up and started to perform. Turned out, he was the star of the show. Then I felt really badly that I hadn’t paid the seven bucks.

I woke up after that. My dreams are weird. They're often like that. But, it was nice to have some guy think I was pretty enough that he wanted to be with me. I wonder who I’ll get if I dial *28?

Does “Flabber” even HAVE a root in Latin?

Flabbergast: to overcome with surprise and bewilderment; astound.

My friend Amy called to tell me a true story. I was walking on campus listening to her, but at times what she said made me stop dead in my tracks. I believe that I was completely “flabbergasted.”

The story is a love triangle of sorts. Amy was dating this guy…who told her that if he and she were the last people on earth he would be perfectly contented…and the next day broke up with her saying that it was because of “her feelings”. Ah, I see. He admits something heartfelt and then the next day claims her feelings as the reason he can’t see her anymore.

There’s more.

He starts dating Amy’s friend. Yes. You heard me right. Her friend. Anyway. This guy and that girl date for a while and start talking marriage. And when the girl is out of town, the guy writes an email to Amy and says he “likes” this other girl but doesn’t think he’s ready for commitment and is instead moving to California. In the meantime the girl is out with her girlfriends on vacation planning wedding stuff. Ah. I see. It makes perfect sense to me. In WTF land!

So, tell me again why I’m searching for love? I don’t seem to remember any more.

Chickens, Snakes and Lessons Learned the Hard Way

Here’s some random stuff…just don’t know how to explain it all:

1. I bought a drain snake.

2. I snaked my own shower drain. Now it works. That makes me less reliant on someone else. Not that I want to be, just have to be.

3. Hi Jeff,
   
   How are you today? Sorry I've been an email slacker! But I did have to write a quick note to say that I think I've just become an adult because I bought a drain snake. Only adults own those things. Crap. I hate adulthood. It sucks. I have to clean my own drains and fix my own car tires and raise my own chickens. Although I don't raise chickens.
   
   love,
   Maaike

Maaike

I now will unofficially refer to you as the Chicken Chick.

Jeff

4. That Jeff is not my brother. He’s my friend Jeff Andrew. One of the COOLEST people I know.

5. I had just gotten out of the shower when someone knocked at my door. Okay, who the hell is it? I grabbed a blanket from my bed to wrap around myself (now my bed looks like “it turned inside out…then exploded”) and I peeked out the judas hole. Well, that’s not Kylie…it looks like a guy. It’s not Daniel. WTF: I opened the door. (Probably not a good idea given recent news events) Some guy wanted to know if I owned those giant speaker thingys in my driveway. I told him that I don’t but gave him the address of the property managers and maybe they could help him. Lessons:

1. Buy a bathrobe
2. Don’t try to look through the judas hole without my glasses on. It doesn’t work
3. If you’re unsure if a stranger got a glimpse of your booby, just think of it as a “good deed” and move on.

A Damn Near Perfect Day

Saturday was almost perfect. (Kylie knows what missing from it to have been a perfect day—we already talked about that over a game of literati.) I got to sleep in a bit, which was fabulous…and I actually slept pretty well…which was unusual for this last little while. I got up, cleaned my house, took out the garbage, fixed my car tire, did my laundry, and ran some other errands. Accomplished all kinds of things.

Then around 3:30 Daniel came and got me and we met with Kylie and Teddy. We skateboarded for a while, and then we played some baseball. I took some photos, and a bit of recording with my camcorder thing. (I’m still a little chicken with the skateboard, but I do love it! And I had a great time with the softball too.)

But this is not what made it perfect.

It was the strange little family we were. Teddy and I have a great time together and he brings out the kid in me (not like I hide it well in the first place, but with a kid around I have a reason to let loose). Kylie was being catcher, Ted was up to bat, Daniel was pitching, and I was out there to catch the balls that Ted hit. It was beautiful.

The thought crept into my mind, “This is all I really want.” I’ve never wanted money or fame. I’ve never wanted a career. I’ve never wanted glory or acknowledgment. All I’ve ever wanted is a family of my own.

Afterwards we all went to Mongolian BBQ for dinner. Ted used his chopstick as a wand to turn me into a bunch of different animals and told me to eat like them. Then we started having noodle-eating races. But the BEST was when the fortune cookies came. I opened mine and read it then Ted opened his and said, “If only I could read!” We all laughed! It was so funny! He’s a GREAT kid!

Then we went into the mall and found out that there was a play land thing. Ted and I took off our shoes and went it. The best part of the play land was the slide. It was so much fun going down that thing! Afterwards of course, we discussed the fact that both Ted and I are too tall for play land, but no one kicked us out.

It was a great day.