I'd like to take a minute to recognize two very important people in MMATM's life. Without Noelle and Christine, I would not be where I am today. Their support has helped this starving baby of a blog grow into the selfish infant stealing cookies out of the oven before they're finished that it is today. (That was NOT a reference to my childhood.) Their feedback is much appreciated and has provided the necessary encouragement to keep me afloat. It has also provided me with fun new ways to test myself physically and mentally.
Which brings me to my latest attempt at conquering the world of dreams. Noelle told me about something her mom used to do before falling asleep and swears by. This is how Noelle described it:
Your mind needs to be perfectly clear. Don't think of anything you have to do or anything you're worried about. Picture yourself on a cliff but you're not facing the cliff, your back is to it. Focus on the image strongly. Then picture a small rock or pebble in your hand. Bring your arm up and throw the rock behind you off the cliff but as you're throwing it over your shoulder think of the time that you want to wake up and you'll wake up at that time.
WOW! I can't pass up this experiment. Hopefully it goes better that the lucid dreaming failure that ended with my dad breaking his legs and yelling at me while driving through a graveyard last night. If it works I'm going to teach it to Christina so she can replace that obnoxious, ulcer-inducing, dancing and singing hippo with this peaceful alternative to an alarm clock.
(Ms. Knopf... Come to Boston! We have a blow-up mattress that's calling your name!!)
Friday, January 4, 2008
I'm a failure.
Ok so my experiment with lucid dreaming didn't go quite as planned. I didn't even come to the conclusion that I was dreaming in the dream. It was like any other dream. I did remember it though and it was a little creepy.
Brief synopsis of the creepiest part:
My dad and I were on Comm Ave in front of Sicilia's and a vehicle backed into his legs causing him to fall to the floor in immense pain at which point I called the police who took forever to arrive. I was extremely worried about the result this accident would have on his hockey career. I thought he was doomed forever and became sad but then my dad stood up, said he was fine and forced me to get into our car. He sped off and I yelled at him for speeding and he told me to shut up because I'm always yelling about nothing. We drove for a while through hilly terrain swerving between strange houses and tombstones.
The creepiest thing about the dream is that last night my boss, who encouraged me to try this lucid dreaming business, had a dream with his mother in it and she slipped and was injured. After her injury, she yelled at him for going too fast while running on the ice. I know it's not quite the same thing... but it's similar enough to have creeped me out. I feel like our dream worlds are strangely connected. Or were last night. It makes me wonder who else's dreams mine relate to. What affect do we have on dreams other than our own? Do we have an affect at all?
Some people are connected spiritually somehow. They must be. For example, Tara and I have a strange connection. Weird things often happen with our lives that we notice when discussing them in detail. The strongest connection seems to be found in our love lives. They are rarely both good at the same time. We are rarely both happy with whatever situation we are in. When one has good luck, the other tends to have bad. We have weird dreams about each other that seem to tell a lot about whatever situation is going on at the time. The strangest thing to happen was probably about a summer ago. I forget exactly what happened but she was in Connecticut and I in Indiana and something bad happened to her and I had a dream that night about how she was crying hysterically. I woke up in a terrible mood and found out later she was having a rough time. Maybe we're twins!!! Or maybe I'm just making it up. I can never tell.
Brief synopsis of the creepiest part:
My dad and I were on Comm Ave in front of Sicilia's and a vehicle backed into his legs causing him to fall to the floor in immense pain at which point I called the police who took forever to arrive. I was extremely worried about the result this accident would have on his hockey career. I thought he was doomed forever and became sad but then my dad stood up, said he was fine and forced me to get into our car. He sped off and I yelled at him for speeding and he told me to shut up because I'm always yelling about nothing. We drove for a while through hilly terrain swerving between strange houses and tombstones.
The creepiest thing about the dream is that last night my boss, who encouraged me to try this lucid dreaming business, had a dream with his mother in it and she slipped and was injured. After her injury, she yelled at him for going too fast while running on the ice. I know it's not quite the same thing... but it's similar enough to have creeped me out. I feel like our dream worlds are strangely connected. Or were last night. It makes me wonder who else's dreams mine relate to. What affect do we have on dreams other than our own? Do we have an affect at all?
Some people are connected spiritually somehow. They must be. For example, Tara and I have a strange connection. Weird things often happen with our lives that we notice when discussing them in detail. The strongest connection seems to be found in our love lives. They are rarely both good at the same time. We are rarely both happy with whatever situation we are in. When one has good luck, the other tends to have bad. We have weird dreams about each other that seem to tell a lot about whatever situation is going on at the time. The strangest thing to happen was probably about a summer ago. I forget exactly what happened but she was in Connecticut and I in Indiana and something bad happened to her and I had a dream that night about how she was crying hysterically. I woke up in a terrible mood and found out later she was having a rough time. Maybe we're twins!!! Or maybe I'm just making it up. I can never tell.
Thursday, January 3, 2008
I will flick you.
I am looking to conquer a new frontier: dreams.
This goal was inspired by one of my bosses. Both of us have problems sleeping. Though his are far greater than mine (he sometimes goes days without sleeping), I have a hard time getting a good, restful sleep. At school I attribute the problems to stress, living in Kenmore and Christina Trotta. The problem seems to have been magnified since coming home, though. It's probably because I didn't bring my body pillow and the length of my bed is not against a wall. I like to be smoshed in between the two and have grown dependent upon that situation for a good night sleep. My dad thinks I can't sleep because I drink too much Coke and keep my phone on. I told him I need to be prepared for Noelle to call me at 2AM and have her friends sing all the Maria songs they can think of and then rap to me.
Regardless, my boss and I were talking about our predicament today. We got on the subject of dreams because he told me a story about a dream of his that I was in. I love trying to interpret dreams and the obvious result of his dreams, according to my psychic and detective talents, was that he needs me to keep his life on track. He didn't believe me but I told him to give up because dreams never lie.
Anyways he told me that at one point in his life he was having really creepy dreams. He eventually taught himself to control his dreams. He got to the point where he had a dream about someone he didn't like and made himself flick the person over the horizon in the dream. This sounds fascinating and amazing! So I asked him how to do it. He told me it is difficult and takes dedication.
Just start with the basics. When you realize you're dreaming, just kind of investigate. Talk to people. Ask them questions about what it's like to be in a dream. Ask them if they will do things for you. Sometimes they will and sometimes they won't. People in dreams have their own personalities, too. It's strange.
Even now the excitement makes my fingers tingle with anticipation. I wish falling asleep was easier so I could train myself to flick people I don't like in my dreams and make people do whatever I tell them. I have seen documentaries on lucid dreaming (controlling your dreams) but I have never put in much effort trying to master it. The most I've accomplished has been realizing that I am dreaming. Even that doesn't work all the time.
According to Wikipedia, the first step towards effective lucid dreaming is dream recall, or being able to remember your dreams. I'm pretty good at that. Ask my brother or any of the roommates. They are often subject to elaborate stories of my ridiculous dreams followed by interpretation that is often more ridiculous than the actual dream. Wikipedia doesn't really say what to do next. But I will take the advice I received earlier today. I will fall asleep, tell myself I'm dreaming and then start talking to people in my dreams. I am so excited. I hope this works! This will be another way to entertain myself here in lonely Michigan! When you have no friends, create them with lucid dreaming!
This goal was inspired by one of my bosses. Both of us have problems sleeping. Though his are far greater than mine (he sometimes goes days without sleeping), I have a hard time getting a good, restful sleep. At school I attribute the problems to stress, living in Kenmore and Christina Trotta. The problem seems to have been magnified since coming home, though. It's probably because I didn't bring my body pillow and the length of my bed is not against a wall. I like to be smoshed in between the two and have grown dependent upon that situation for a good night sleep. My dad thinks I can't sleep because I drink too much Coke and keep my phone on. I told him I need to be prepared for Noelle to call me at 2AM and have her friends sing all the Maria songs they can think of and then rap to me.
Regardless, my boss and I were talking about our predicament today. We got on the subject of dreams because he told me a story about a dream of his that I was in. I love trying to interpret dreams and the obvious result of his dreams, according to my psychic and detective talents, was that he needs me to keep his life on track. He didn't believe me but I told him to give up because dreams never lie.
Anyways he told me that at one point in his life he was having really creepy dreams. He eventually taught himself to control his dreams. He got to the point where he had a dream about someone he didn't like and made himself flick the person over the horizon in the dream. This sounds fascinating and amazing! So I asked him how to do it. He told me it is difficult and takes dedication.
Just start with the basics. When you realize you're dreaming, just kind of investigate. Talk to people. Ask them questions about what it's like to be in a dream. Ask them if they will do things for you. Sometimes they will and sometimes they won't. People in dreams have their own personalities, too. It's strange.
Even now the excitement makes my fingers tingle with anticipation. I wish falling asleep was easier so I could train myself to flick people I don't like in my dreams and make people do whatever I tell them. I have seen documentaries on lucid dreaming (controlling your dreams) but I have never put in much effort trying to master it. The most I've accomplished has been realizing that I am dreaming. Even that doesn't work all the time.
According to Wikipedia, the first step towards effective lucid dreaming is dream recall, or being able to remember your dreams. I'm pretty good at that. Ask my brother or any of the roommates. They are often subject to elaborate stories of my ridiculous dreams followed by interpretation that is often more ridiculous than the actual dream. Wikipedia doesn't really say what to do next. But I will take the advice I received earlier today. I will fall asleep, tell myself I'm dreaming and then start talking to people in my dreams. I am so excited. I hope this works! This will be another way to entertain myself here in lonely Michigan! When you have no friends, create them with lucid dreaming!
Monday, December 24, 2007
Holiday Cheer.
I hate shopping. I have to be in the right mood and the right situation. I can not shop:
A) With other people (unless I need help or the other person is my dad)
B) During the holidays
C) When I don't know exactly what I want
D) Without music
E) With a time restraint
Today I went shopping with my two brothers, during the holiday season, without music and without knowing exactly what I wanted to buy. It was a rough day. Despite my lack of enthusiasm, we were extremely successful until I came across a make-up department lady I wanted to stab with a sharp eye-liner pencil.
My brothers and I decided that we would be good children and buy some nail polish for our mom to finish off her Christmas gift. (Dad... don't tell.) We went into Nordstrom and walked through the make-up department. An extremely thin, old lady from the Yves Saint-Laurent counter pulled me in instantly. It was late in the afternoon and the deep wrinkles in her face had soaked up her heavily applied foundation so that it was caked between the creases around her eyes. She asked if I needed help. I HATE when people approach me in stores. If I need help I will ask you. Every time I walk into a store I feel like I am bombarded by vultures trying to con me into buying all kinds of dumb crap. Like this lady. Let's call her Barbara.
So I eventually break down in the presence of Barbara's piercing stare and tell her I'm looking for nail polish for my mom.
"You know what would be perfect for her?? The [insert difficult to pronounce French name chosen to make product sound more appealing and useful than it actually is]. Does she have the same skin tone as you? Here sit down I'll show you how great it is."
My brothers start chuckling because they know how much I hate being poked and prodded by strangers. Especially strangers who sell make-up.
Barbara sits me in a high black chair.
"Off with your glasses." She pauses. "OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!!" She giggles uncontrollably.
Against my better judgment, I take off my glasses and let her have her evil way with my face. She took out something that looked like a pen with a brush at one end and applied the cream on it under my eyes. She shoved a mirror in front of my face. The angle was off so I couldn't even see myself but I told her the difference was amazing. I tried to get up but she stopped me saying "that's not all either!!!" She analyzed my face for a few seconds then grabbed a bottle of foundation and started applying it to my entire face with her cold, wrinkly hands. As she was applying it, she decided to make small talk with me. I hate small talk almost as much as I hate shopping.
"Are those your two brothers?" Barbara pried.
"Yea."
"So you're the oldest?"
"Yup."
"I bet you keep them in line then."
"I try."
"Do they pick on you a lot?"
"...I guess the normal amount."
"I always wanted a brother."
She shoved the mirror in my face. Again, I couldn't see myself because of the awkward angle of the mirror but I told her it was great. I started to get up and couldn't believe that she was standing in my way yet again. She grabbed a brown compact from a shelf and started putting bronzer all over my face. Apparently I'm pale... but the "good" kind because the undertones of my skin are good. I have no idea what that means. She finished with the bronzer and picked up red sparkling lip gloss. I'm pretty sure she told me it had peach juice and flecks of 24-carat gold in it but that can't be right. She shoved the mirror in my face one final time. Now I could see myself. My entire face was sparkling. I'm not sure why someone would buy things to make their entire face sparkle... but I guess I'm just weird like that.
I stood up from the chair, thanked her as politely as I could and told her we would come back after walking around the mall.
I never went back and never will. That woman is the devil.
My other adventure today involved taking my brother shopping for his girlfriend at Victoria's Secret. The cashier thought the panties he was paying for were for me. I don't know what was more uncomfortable: having Barbara rub her freezing, near-death hands all over my face or having some girl make jokes about my younger brother buying me tiny thongs.
A) With other people (unless I need help or the other person is my dad)
B) During the holidays
C) When I don't know exactly what I want
D) Without music
E) With a time restraint
Today I went shopping with my two brothers, during the holiday season, without music and without knowing exactly what I wanted to buy. It was a rough day. Despite my lack of enthusiasm, we were extremely successful until I came across a make-up department lady I wanted to stab with a sharp eye-liner pencil.
My brothers and I decided that we would be good children and buy some nail polish for our mom to finish off her Christmas gift. (Dad... don't tell.) We went into Nordstrom and walked through the make-up department. An extremely thin, old lady from the Yves Saint-Laurent counter pulled me in instantly. It was late in the afternoon and the deep wrinkles in her face had soaked up her heavily applied foundation so that it was caked between the creases around her eyes. She asked if I needed help. I HATE when people approach me in stores. If I need help I will ask you. Every time I walk into a store I feel like I am bombarded by vultures trying to con me into buying all kinds of dumb crap. Like this lady. Let's call her Barbara.
So I eventually break down in the presence of Barbara's piercing stare and tell her I'm looking for nail polish for my mom.
"You know what would be perfect for her?? The [insert difficult to pronounce French name chosen to make product sound more appealing and useful than it actually is]. Does she have the same skin tone as you? Here sit down I'll show you how great it is."
My brothers start chuckling because they know how much I hate being poked and prodded by strangers. Especially strangers who sell make-up.
Barbara sits me in a high black chair.
"Off with your glasses." She pauses. "OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!!" She giggles uncontrollably.
Against my better judgment, I take off my glasses and let her have her evil way with my face. She took out something that looked like a pen with a brush at one end and applied the cream on it under my eyes. She shoved a mirror in front of my face. The angle was off so I couldn't even see myself but I told her the difference was amazing. I tried to get up but she stopped me saying "that's not all either!!!" She analyzed my face for a few seconds then grabbed a bottle of foundation and started applying it to my entire face with her cold, wrinkly hands. As she was applying it, she decided to make small talk with me. I hate small talk almost as much as I hate shopping.
"Are those your two brothers?" Barbara pried.
"Yea."
"So you're the oldest?"
"Yup."
"I bet you keep them in line then."
"I try."
"Do they pick on you a lot?"
"...I guess the normal amount."
"I always wanted a brother."
She shoved the mirror in my face. Again, I couldn't see myself because of the awkward angle of the mirror but I told her it was great. I started to get up and couldn't believe that she was standing in my way yet again. She grabbed a brown compact from a shelf and started putting bronzer all over my face. Apparently I'm pale... but the "good" kind because the undertones of my skin are good. I have no idea what that means. She finished with the bronzer and picked up red sparkling lip gloss. I'm pretty sure she told me it had peach juice and flecks of 24-carat gold in it but that can't be right. She shoved the mirror in my face one final time. Now I could see myself. My entire face was sparkling. I'm not sure why someone would buy things to make their entire face sparkle... but I guess I'm just weird like that.
I stood up from the chair, thanked her as politely as I could and told her we would come back after walking around the mall.
I never went back and never will. That woman is the devil.
My other adventure today involved taking my brother shopping for his girlfriend at Victoria's Secret. The cashier thought the panties he was paying for were for me. I don't know what was more uncomfortable: having Barbara rub her freezing, near-death hands all over my face or having some girl make jokes about my younger brother buying me tiny thongs.
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
Kate Nash is a raging tuba.
What's with this recent surge of whiny British girls all over MTV? Amy Winehouse, despite her missing teeth, drug addiction and dirty Cockney accent is one thing. Her voice is great and her lyrics are clever and interesting. Lily Allen is pushing it. Some of her songs are tolerable (as opposed to her latest music video which should have never even aired. No one wants to spend 3 minutes of their lives watching a cartoon character try to seduce a bunch of guys in a bar.) Kate Nash is just awful. I couldn't care less about her relationship problems. I don't blame her boyfriend for thinking she's boring and annoying. Her lyrics reflect her personality, apparently. I haven't looked into her biographical information, but it sounds like an angry high-schooler wrote her newest song, Foundations. For example:
You've gone and got sick on my trainers, I only got these Yesterday. Oh my gosh, I cannot be bothered with this.
Seriously? Please. Dump his ass and get on with your life for everyone's sake. Get her off MTV. I want to see more Lady Sovereign.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6btkVat_oQc
You've gone and got sick on my trainers, I only got these Yesterday. Oh my gosh, I cannot be bothered with this.
Seriously? Please. Dump his ass and get on with your life for everyone's sake. Get her off MTV. I want to see more Lady Sovereign.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6btkVat_oQc
It's the most wonderful time of the year.
YOU KNOW IT'S FINALS WEEK WHEN...*
You spend your Friday and Saturday nights in Mugar Library and don't come home until the wee hours of the morning.
You walk to the library during two large Noreasters and can't feel your face by the time you get there.
You live off energy drinks, Cheez-Its and Sour Patch Kids.
The single ash tray in front of Mugar is overflowing.
You fight for cubicles in the library. If you go to get food you leave your books opened so no one steals your seat.
You go to the bathroom and there are girls talking to their parents next to the sink because they have no time to go outside.
You relocate to floor two or lower by 10:00 because you know come 11 there will be no more seats left.
You have sleepovers at the library. The most sleep you get is ten or fifteen minutes and even that's too much. (Noelle and Andrea)
You stay awake for 30 hours at a time. This includes studying, test-taking, lunch with friends and delirious rambling in your roommate's room. (Noelle)
The funniest thing to happen to you all weekend is the intercom announcer at the library telling you boiling lava will kill everyone who remains on the third, fourth or fifth floor past 11:00.
You are in the library so long you carve your name in a wooden chair under a list of other eager students, just to prove you put in your time.
You have created relationships with other frequent library-goers. These relationships are usually made-up and involve serious eye contact, stalking and sometimes note leaving. (Christina and her new boyfriend with the large collection of hoodies)
You read books about the state of nursing homes in America because you are sick of studying.
You see all those hot guys you know were slacking all year but are now trying to redeem themselves.
A pile of coats under your desk starts moving and you discover it's a human being.
*The events mentioned above are all factual and occurred during finals week 2007 at Boston University. Please send your finals week experiences.
You spend your Friday and Saturday nights in Mugar Library and don't come home until the wee hours of the morning.
You walk to the library during two large Noreasters and can't feel your face by the time you get there.
You live off energy drinks, Cheez-Its and Sour Patch Kids.
The single ash tray in front of Mugar is overflowing.
You fight for cubicles in the library. If you go to get food you leave your books opened so no one steals your seat.
You go to the bathroom and there are girls talking to their parents next to the sink because they have no time to go outside.
You relocate to floor two or lower by 10:00 because you know come 11 there will be no more seats left.
You have sleepovers at the library. The most sleep you get is ten or fifteen minutes and even that's too much. (Noelle and Andrea)
You stay awake for 30 hours at a time. This includes studying, test-taking, lunch with friends and delirious rambling in your roommate's room. (Noelle)
The funniest thing to happen to you all weekend is the intercom announcer at the library telling you boiling lava will kill everyone who remains on the third, fourth or fifth floor past 11:00.
You are in the library so long you carve your name in a wooden chair under a list of other eager students, just to prove you put in your time.
You have created relationships with other frequent library-goers. These relationships are usually made-up and involve serious eye contact, stalking and sometimes note leaving. (Christina and her new boyfriend with the large collection of hoodies)
You read books about the state of nursing homes in America because you are sick of studying.
You see all those hot guys you know were slacking all year but are now trying to redeem themselves.
A pile of coats under your desk starts moving and you discover it's a human being.
*The events mentioned above are all factual and occurred during finals week 2007 at Boston University. Please send your finals week experiences.
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