Road Trip

My coworkers and I were all heading on a roadtrip somewhere. We were laughing, and making fun of each other (as is pretty par for work). We passed a Sonic, and then a place that was a blatant rip-off of Sonic except it sold alcohol. My boss(ish), Scott, offered to take the next shift driving so we pulled into the next gas station for a stretch, a bathroom break, and a driver switch. Once all back in the car, almost everyone passed out. Scott pulled into some fast food restaurant only a few minutes after we'd been stopped at the gas station. My coworker Dorian and I were shocked to find out that Scott was bad at road trips.

There was more, but a lot of it was in French and I don't much feel like sorting that business out this morning.

Internal Battles

There was some sort of evil force that had caused my parents to go completely berserk. I knew that I needed to kill them. I took the shots. Where ever the bullets had lodged, they were unconscious but not dead, thankfully. I was standing in front of my house (that overlooked a parking lot with various fast food restaurants around the outside) with a little girl, Peeta (who was exactly like Rue in the Hunger Games Series). She began speaking though it was obvious the words were not hers. She said that Peeta would be killed before sunrise if I didn't offer myself up to be killed. I knew that I needed to save her, but I had no idea how I would.

She led me to a canyon, and stood barefoot with her toes hanging over the edge. She sang a song that was simple, sad and hopeful and I was heartbroken that I couldn't find a way to save her. She collapsed on the ground, as the sun was coming up, landing with one arm hanging into the canyon. I stood there for countless minutes with silent tears streaming down my face. She stood up and said something goofy like "that was uncomfortable". She touched my forehead and i knew that she'd been locked in some sort of internal combat for what had seemed like years to her, but she'd beaten the evil force. We were walking back to my house as the sun started to peek over buildings.

Frustrating!

Cirque du soleil was putting on a show in our theatre and they needed overhire labor. There was some sort of odd audition process that pretty much everyone I know was attending. It seemed odd that so many non-theatre people were trying to get this temporary job. The person that was leading this audition/interview process was giving some shitty speech about how excellent it is to work for cirque, how you have to give 110%, how not many of us would make it to the next round, etc when she flipped a switch by leaning against the wall. It turned on a blacklight, revealing all the highlighter coloring we'd been doing at a party the night before on each other's arms and faces. At first she was shocked that we'd partied the night before, then she couldn't stop laughing and told anyone that wasn't in our group that they could just leave.

The next part of it all involved a long distance run with interviews along the way, to see if you could stay focused on your task at hand (running) while being bothered/distracted. My longtime friend Heather was set to interview me and so we ended up just running together, and catching up. She told me I was going to get the job as a permanent thing, she'd seen their notes from the first round. For some reason, this did not excite me. I didn't want to have to stay in Austin forever, or travel with Cirque. I just wanted to get home, and no matter how fast or how long I ran, I couldn't get out of the city.

Simple and pleasant

I had really pleasant dreams about painting in the loft studio that I will have someday. I don't remember details (about either the paintings or the studio itself), just a feeling of being extremely content. I knew that Boyfriend was coming to see my work later in the day and I wasn't even particularly nervous about what he'd think.

Good dreams.

Totem

There was something very earthy and mystical within my family. It had always been there; our people were from another stock. We lived away from the rest of the world but by no means were disconnected from it. We predicted things, protected things, understood and gave meaning to. People with money would come to us and ask with fear and desperation for our help. We would always help them, even if the money wasn't good. We were good people, natural people.

I was young. Ten or so and playing on the docks the last few generations made in the giant lake (or was it the ocean?) on the outskirts of society. I knew them like the back of my hand, and flew across them knowing just where to step and where to dive into the water and swim because my stride was not yet long enough. I was more free than other children of my age because of the nature of my family, and the intensity of my understanding of my family's gift. Even if they'd wanted, they would have no real power to restrain me. Nature lived inside me, and controlled my actions personally.

One day, we all felt a calling to head to the airport, though it isn't what you'd think of. It was another set of wooden docks, with ropes lashing the sticks and metal plates together. I needed to tell a Justin something. I didn't know who he was, and my parents thought I was making it up to stay in the presence of the planes longer, to marvel at their technology. They didn't understand the feeling of urgency that one touched by nature may feel. I had to find him. There was something I absolutely needed him to know. For his safety or my own, I'm not sure.

It was urgent and they didn't trust a child. I snuck away to find him and got lost, thinking to trust my instinct to bring myself back. I saved a girl a little younger than me from being hit by a plane, and knew that in my act had doomed Justin. It was all very complex. I wanted nothing more than the wind and jungle-gym climbing on my home. I wanted nothing more than normalcy, rules, order, an actual house...

I acted as any child different from those around them would.

quitting.

Boyfriend and I were cuddled up on our perfect couch: him sitting as one would in a chair, with me laying across his lap resting my head on his shoulder. We were watching some terrible DIY network show (as I am akin to making him do with me) and he tapped me on the should twice (our less obnoxious way of saying "hey I need to get up and you are in the way"). I looked up at him and he said he was going to go have a cigarette (we are both in the middle of quit-fest). "Why?" was the only response I could muster, not only was I trying to be helpful in the quitting process... I was really comfortable and if he got up we might never find this perfect body placement again. He thought about it for a moment then relaxed back into the couch. Brilliant. Quit-fest, cuddle-party wynn.

Sort of a low-key dream. It made me happy though.

Lots and lots of not much at all

Dreams from last night are some sort of medley of Disney characters and Renaissance Festival folk running around in the snow. Combine that with my reaction (in reality) to my dreams of the cold (covering up) and you have one sleepless sweaty me. Boo.

penelope cruz: yes please.

Sorry I haven't been around this past week- I was in Charlotte, NC trying to get a job with Cirque du Soleil (and other companies, but when you're in theatre... who cares about them if Cirque is around?). Things seemed to have went well. Though I won't be actually applying to their internship program (who the heck can fund themselves living in Las Vegas for 12 weeks?), I made some badass friends and hopefully they will remember me when I apply to be the owner of their company. Yes, their owner. Aim for the top, people.

At any rate, I had a crazy dream last night that boyfriend and I were interviewing candidates for a threesome. He was conducting actual sit down interviews: finding out if people had diseases, making sure they weren't totally creepy/going to kill us, watching for someone mildly attractive/interesting, etc. After people made the cut with boyfriend, I took them back into our room to show them our crazy toys (most of which we don't actually have, hah) and see if they're still interested at all.

On one of the rounds, Penelope Cruz had made the cut (boyfriend probably didn't ask her a single question... and I don't blame him) and seemed really interested in the whole business. She waited until the other people had left the room then tied me to a wall (that was chainlink...and in my room... uh.) and whipped me with two whips at the same time. Boyfriend heard me yelling something (probably DON'T STOP PENELOPE CRUZ I LOVE YOU) and ran into the room. Which scared her off. She ran out of the building and into the New York streets below (I live in Texas). He checked to make sure I was okay and only remember saying something like "If she had figured out how to use three whips at once, you might have had to worry about me leaving you". We laughed and decided to go for a walk so that we might hopefully find Penelope and bring her back home. We didn't, but we had a really pleasant time just walking through the busy, dirty streets holding hands and talking about absolutely nothing. Adorable.

I had a weekend full of terrible dreams that I'd rather not broadcast to the interwebs.

No bueno

I've been waking up with terrible headaches. Which keep me from committing anything I may have dreamed to memory. Sad. The really lame part is that I can ALMOST remember what I'd been dreaming about. almost. like when a word you want to use is on the tip of your tongue. except the word is a dream, and the tongue is my brain.