A Chris Themed Dream?

Tonight I had a really weird dream with 3 different Chris. I have not idea how to pluralize Chris right now as it is 5:30 in the morning and I am barely awake. Back to the dream. I don't use names on my blog, but I don't really see a way around this and it none of the people I mention are in contact with me now, so I guess it won't matter.

I was in a yellow 4-door sedan. It was old, from the seventies or something like that. Considering I am from the seventies, I would like to rephrase that to say it was middle aged. No, wait, it was, um in the prime of its life? Forget it. Anyway, my mom, dad and aunt were in the backseat. In the front seat was a girl-Kris, and a guy-Chris I used to make out with on occasion when I was about 19. I just reread that and would like to be clear; I only made out with the guy. It wasn't like I was having a threesome with Chris people. Wow, that got weird in a hurry.

The Kris and my parents were in town visiting. We were at some strip mall having just eaten at a restaurant. Kris was driving and decided to get out of the crowded parking lot by backing up onto the walkway in front of the strip mall to drive on the sidewalk around the cars back onto the parking lot. I questioned it and she said it was totally legal where she lives and started backing up. I was sitting in the passenger seat watching the cars beside us. She backed up but turned too soon and ran into the corner of the parked car sitting next to us. I saw this happening but couldn't tell her. Being a dream, I instead had a conversation with my father about how I didn't think she saw the parked cars like I did.

Instead of stopping when she took off the corner of the car, she kept backing up. The line of her trajectory had her scraping along the back of the next three cars in line. We finally yelled at her to stop. Which she did and got out to survey the mess. As we were sizing up the situation, a cop car pulled into the parking lot, flashed its lights once and stopped in front of us. I panicked because I realized I was suddenly sitting in the drivers' seat. There was a quick conversation in the car and we decided to tell the cop that Chris was the one driving. Apparently we came up with a dream-plausible reason for this, in case the cop asked.

The minute the cop walked up to the car, I started flirting. Not because he was attractive, but because I thought we could use all the help we could get. He was attractive though. Not hot exactly, but more my type. Yes, I know that sounds weird. I typically go for unorthodox looking guys. He was tall, with a round face a round middle, beefy upper body and kind eyes. (Yes, I like my guys with some middle, some squish to cuddle against. Six pack abs are hard and uncomfortable.) I must say I was totally on point. The cop was very taken with me and gave me his business card, in case I needed to contact him later with any questions. After he walked away, there was much discussion about my interaction. My father was telling my mom all about how that is how you have to act and gave a compliment akin to "That's my girl."

As we were getting out of the car, I looked at the card with the name Detective Chris Johnson. Mentally deciding that I would indeed have some questions later, I slipped the card into my pocket. Officer Chris came back and asked to speak to me and my father. He told us that in a few moments the officers who would be handling the case would be here and there would be a round of questioning for Make-Out-Chris. He was able to inform us as to the nature of the questioning with out really saying it. (There is a word for that whole phrase, but I am too tired to think of it.) Basically they were going to ask him a bunch of questions about pot. He liked us (me) and wanted to help us (me) out in any way possible, but since he was the first officer on the scene, he could not tell Make-Out-Chris himself.

My dad declined and sent me over to talk to him. Keep in mind that Make-Out-Chris was still 19 in this dream, so I was no longer attracted to him, he was more like a brother or cousin at this point. Before the other officers showed up, I was able to discuss this with him. I should mention that the reason for all this concern was that he was noticeably slow mentally. Not mentally challenged, just not quite quick witted enough to evade all the questioning without prepping.

This was only a dream aspect of Make-Out-Chris. When I was making out with him, he was in no way slow. Also I am not sure if he smoked pot back in the day, but given the crowd, it was highly likely. I am saying this because most people know my aversion to dating anyone who like the herb and understand that both of these things are pretty abnormal for me to be attracted to. Not that it mattered the dream because again, he was 19 and too young for me to be attracted to him.

So the secondary police officers arrive on the scene and Officer Chris drives away IN A WHITE 80s A-TEAM VAN! I kid you not. This van was the exact same, painted white with a blue strip diagonally down the side. To refresh your memory:


I recognized the shape because of the spoiler on top. (Why does a van need a spoiler? I guess since it is driven by Mr. T., I can understand and will not rant.) Sadly, I was suddenly very excited and decided I was definitely going to have some questions later for Officer Chris. Like how the freak he was allowed to have that van as a police car. It. Was. Awesome. Sadly, I am still excited.

The dream fast forwards to a day at the beach with my brothers and a few of their friends. (I don't remember exactly who.) For some reason we were soaked to the skin. Oddly we were still in Colorado. A section of beach and the highway leading away from it were just cut and pasted into the dream by my brain. We stop at a gas station to use the rest room and buy some snacks when they leave without me! Yup. They just totally forget about me and drive off. I am left standing outside.

All I have are the clothes on my back. I can't call my brother to tell him what a dumbass he is because I don't have my cell and don't have his number memorized. I have a minor philosophical conversation with myself about how times have changed and no one memorizes numbers anymore. But then, I reach into my pocket and find (fanfare) Officer Chris' card. It is dilapidated and soggy around the edges, but the number is intact.

I call. Seconds later the white, A-Team van drives up. With my heart all a-flutter at being rescued, I get into the van. We have an awesome, flirty conversation. Apparently I am looking for a job or considering going back to school. He tells me about a job and a school right next door to each other.

Then the dream cuts to me in a restaurant waiting for food. It is now nighttime I am still wet, I think I am now barefoot and a friend is waiting outside to take me home. I go out and tell him that I am still waiting on food, but am going to run next door to get applications for a job I heard about and look at the "school." We are waiting at yet another strip mall, so I have no idea what kind of school this is, but have the vague impression that it is a trade school of some sort. He tells me he is going to drive around the corner to run an errand but will be right back.

I get the applications go back to the restaurant and the lady behind the counter hands me a huge cellophane bag with hot dog buns in it. I take it and she explains that because she is sorry for the wait, she has given me 3 more hot dogs and extra buns, in case I want them later. I am now happy about the $2 hot dog that I purchased since it will give me leftovers for the week. Before that I was angry at the absurd price of $2. And I am elated that the hot dog buns appear to be whole wheat. There is so much wrong here that I can't even comment.

I go outside in time to see the the A-Team van drive off. I get into the car with the giant bag, prompting my friend to comment that I have, "Yet another week's worth of food." I ask him about Officer Chris and he tells me that Chris was checking up on me to make sure I had gotten home safely. My friend told him that I was getting a ride home with him and all was well. Chris then tells him how he also was checking to see if I needed help with the applications because he is certified in paperwork.

Hold on, I have to stop and laugh. Even in the dream we find that ludicrous and have a nice chuckle. I defend Officer Chris by saying that he is kind of a boy scout and really nice guy, so he is not really as goofy as he came off. We sit quietly for a few minutes driving up Broadway. I then turn to my friend and say, "I think I like Officer Chris, is it weird for me to tell you that?" (My friend is about 10 - 15 years older and is more of a fatherly type guy in my life which is why it would be weird to get all twitterpated with him. That is more of a girl to girl conversation in my head I guess.)

And then I wake up. With heartburn. Really, really bad heartburn. What that has to do with the dream, I don't know. Maybe it is all the $2 hotdogs I ate. But it did keep me from going back to sleep which in turn led me to write this all out. So you can thank the heartburn while I curse it.

As I think through my dream again, (I am not going to reread and edit, so just be happy you are getting a post as you judge all the errors.) I am noticing an "I am old" theme running through out along side the Chris theme. Let's not forget the real moral of this story. I would date anyone driving personalized A-Team van.

It is nice to know that nostalgic cheese is the real key to my heart. Like that was a huge secret.

Two Conversations

My parents are going on day trips today and tomorrow to give me a couple of days to rest. Sadly, I cannot keep up with my newly retired father who also needs naps every afternoon. Yesterday I was so exhausted, I fell out of my bed trying to get up. Luckily, my bed is close to the floor because I fell pretty hard on the ankle I twisted last month falling off the bottom stair of an establishment onto the sidewalk. I am pretty sure I fell because I went back to sleep as I was rolling out of bed. It all happened very quickly.

My exhaustion has very little to do with my parents being here, other than I find it hard to remain reclined when I am visiting with them. It just feels rude. I am exhausted because I am going through an insomnia spell which happens a lot since I've been sick. I crashed in my hammock chair yesterday afternoon for 3 hours when my mom took my dad back to their hotel for his nap. I woke up feeling refreshed and rested for the first time in a week. Well, first I woke up in a panic because my phone was ringing and I forgot where I was. Which made the whole cocooned in a bunch of rope less comforting and more bondage-y. And not in a good way.

Today my folks went up into Golden and beyond just to check out the little towns. My mom called this afternoon to let me know they would not be back to have dinner with me. She was very excited and asked me to guess what they found out there. I was stumped for a few seconds until I remembered that the route they were taking went right through Black Hawk, our local gambling getaway. I can't believe I forgot about Black Hawk when I was trying to think of places to send them for the day. Anyway here is a snippit of the conversation.

Mom: Your dad won $150 on a penny machine!
Me (glumly): Well don't come back then. Keep going and see if you can win back the $XXX I borrowed from you yesterday.
Mom: That's what I was thinking!

God bless her pea pickin' heart. Seriously. It would make me feel much less guilty.

My second conversation took place after I played a little phone tag with my boss today, when he finally answered my call it went a little something like this:

Me: Hey! How are you?
Boss: I'm doing better than you!
Me: Niiice. Real nice.

I miss him!

How a Joke Is Born

Mom: Did you look up the symptoms for Chronic Fatigue Syndrome?

Me: I started to but I got tired.

Mom: Laughing hysterically.

Me: ???

Mom: Did you even hear yourself?

I May Legally Be Disabled by Mono

Seriously! My employer is helping me apply for long term disability. It is one of my benefits so I don't feel bad about that. Also, I have been sick for 4 1/2 months and have bills to pay. It was just weird to put on the application Mononucleosis in answer to my diagnosis. I have to admit I am not all that confident in getting approved. The insurance company called me on Friday to set up an interview on Monday, so we'll see. I am really lucky that my employer is so supportive. My HR Director not only sent me all the information and signed me up before she even notified me, she also wrote a letter to the insurance company explaining the entire situation to ensure I receive benefits. So yeah, I might be collecting disability.

On top of that, my mom announced that I needed to find a wheelchair for her visit. Her favorite thing about coming to visit me is that we walk everywhere. I don't have a car, so my favorite thing about her visiting is that she walks with me everywhere to run errands. This means I have a whole other person to help me transport groceries and other items. Up until now, I just assumed that I would be better by then. Now, I am pretty sure that isn't going to happen. Even if it does, I am so out of shape from being on bedrest for so long, I won't be able to keep up with her. But a wheelchair?

She says if it is too embarrassing, that I don't have to do it. The sad thing is that is the only thing that would keep me from doing it. I hate to admit it but I am worried about what other people will think. She said we should look at it as a learning experience. We'll be able to see the world from a different perspective. I totally think she is right. I am also worried about depending on my mom pushing me around. I have talked before about my inability to ask for and accept help from others. This would be the ultimate blow to my independence. Which isn't necessarily bad. I think I am too proud and it gets me into trouble. My final comment was that if I find a wheelchair before she gets here then I will do it.

My life is so surreal these days. Like I am living in a dream. I can't even really describe it to people because it seems I am observing me from the outside. The good news is that it makes me see everything differently. I did suddenly have an idea to rent out my place instead of selling it. That way I could get someone else to pay the mortgage, I could move to a smaller place and pay less rent. Then, when I am back on my feet and able to take the responsibility back on, I could just move back into my condo. I don't know how that will work. I am really hoping the disability will give me some breathing room to put off making any decisions. The sad thing is either way, I would have to move. I have no idea how to make that happen considering I can barely move from my bed to the couch and back everyday. So the solution is a problem in itself. I'm just not going to think about it now.

First things first, get disability and find a wheelchair. When did I turn 90?

Oh Lord, Is This Really My Life?

So, you are getting multiple posts today. For one thing I feel guilty about the ads. For another thing, I am bored out of my mind. I feel like a caged animal. I want to go outside in the beautiful weather before it goes away, but instead I am stuck here on the couch. Luckily I am easily amused once I can distract myself.

Take for instance the ads on my blog. I know actually writing about them is only going to make it worse. But, the crap? Menopause? Low Testosterone? Now I have advertisers trying to diagnose my hormone problems. This is so awesome and humiliating all at once. I only really have myself to blame. Now I am on a mission. I must write about enough things to upset the balance I have already created here.

This will be the ultimate test of my evil genius. I can see if I can predict the ads from my posts. Since I have already subjected all you peeps to multiple posts of randomness, I can't imagine this will make much difference. Oooh, I know. Let's talk about my mom's careless flaunting of power tool safety.

For starters she told me a story the other day about how she saw a neighbor out in the yard mowing his lawn. So she sneaked up behind him to startle him while he was backing up. I laughed hysterically and can't even remember what the actual story was about because I could totally see her doing that. Not a thought of what might happened if he tripped and upset the mower, just pure excitement and getting to make someone jump. The best one was when I went out into the backyard to ask her a question and found her up in a tree.

She was standing in a flower bed on a small 3 or 4 foot stepladder, hanging onto a branch for balance with one hand and a chainsaw in another, while cutting another branch out of said tree. Go back and reread that last sentence and see how many wrong things you can find with that. Shocked and horrified, I yelled at her to get down from there and asked her what she thought she was doing. She said I was being overly dramatic and I had nothing to worry about because she had done it before. I just turned around and went back into the house.

These are only the things I know of. My mom is an awesome carpenter and works with tools all the time. She even built a wall in our old house. And the garage remodeled into a family room was built by her and her father. He had a little carpentry shop in his garage and to this day the smell of cedar reminds me of him. I have no idea where that gene went with her children. I know I don't have it. I can't even hang a picture without help. As near as I can tell both of my sister-in-laws do any building type projects around my brothers' homes. Maybe it is just skipping a generation.

OK, let's see if I can get some Makita ads, Ace Hardware or Home repair. Is it sad that I find this more than a little exciting?

Flamingos and Gnomes and Bugs, Oh My

I haven't posted in a few days and I would like to take this opportunity to BLAME MY MOM! We have both gotten into the PC video games. When I was first sick I was obsessed with Plants Vs. Zombies. It is where my profile picture originates. I stopped playing games about the same time I started writing this blog. I was bored with them and needed new fun.

This last weekend my mom asked me if I had played a game she had recommended to me called Garden Defense. She had brought it up multiple times as something she thought I would really like. When I lost my internet one day, I finally decided to play the free trial I had downloaded. It is awesome! I have spent the last three days playing that game almost nonstop. When I was on the phone with my mom, I let her know that I loved it and she immediately started asking me questions. It turns out that she wanted me to play it because she needed help leveling up. Sneaky, mom, very sneaky. But, she has me hooked. Last night we were on the phone playing it together.

I have to take a break. It is all I have been doing and I dream about ants being destroyed by rocket launchers. Plus, playing video games may actually make my mono worse. Playing a game like that requires massive brainwork, quick thinking and problem solving. I have been playing that game for 10 hours a day. Add in the fact that I have been staying up later than I normally do because I can't shut it off and you have me getting sicker by the day.

I didn't piece it together until this morning. My sore throat is getting worse, I am way more fatigued than I have been and this morning I have body aches. In the shower, I started trying to figure out what I have been doing differently because it isn't like I have even left the house or gone out as I try to do. It's the game! To make it worse, I tried to find a link to a website for Garden Defense and instead I found a video that shows a glitch in the system that would allow me to have unlimited money to buy gadgets and plants.

You know I have quit a lot of things. It almost makes me sad that even as I type this I am fighting the urge to just play for a couple of minutes. Just to test the theory. Somebody get me out of this house. I think I am slowly going mad.

Mom, I am sorry but you are own your own. Keep up the good fight! And call me so you can test that glitch for me!

Nothing To Say

I don't really have anything today. But, I am at the coffee shop at a table again so I feel obligated. Not really, but it sounds good. I am sitting here searching for something to write about, but nothing is coming to mind. But, the last time that happened I wrote Curses!, which turned out to be a huge crowd pleaser. I don't know if I can do that again, but I can try. The best part is that if I actually do come up with a subject, you probably won't even see this paragraph because I will delete it. My posts are way too long as it is.

I did finally install a stat counter so I can tell how many people are reading my blog. It only matters because I am more inclined to write regularly. If I don't think anyone is reading, I just figure it doesn't really matter. Yeah, I know I am doing this for myself to practice writing but come one, who are we fooling? I have always loved an audience. Besides, this relieves a tremendous amount of pressure from my mom who felt sorry for me not getting any comments. This is when the fun begins peeps. My mom and I are weird together. She can't help but reveal herself in time but this will lull her into lowering her guard. Now, she won't have to force her comments, and will only write when she has something to say. Or more likely, when she has something to make fun of me for. I have been saving these links for a while. I didn't know how I was going to use them, but it seems like the time is ripe and you'll get a better idea. If you don't watch House, you won't get this. and This is totally something we would do. and She would totally say this.

Well, I still can't think of anything else, except a letter she wrote to me once. But, I can't do it justice unless I print it verbatim. When I find it...

Conversation Between Me and My Mom

Me (leaving message): Call me puh-lease. I am bored and need someone to talk to. Don't worry about waking me up, I don't take the phone with me when I take a nap. So call me. Please. Whenever you get this. Call me. Please. Call me. I want to talk to you. Call me Please. Call me. OK Luh-uh-vuh you. Bye.

Incoming call from my mom three hours later:

Me (slightly raised voice) You're too late! I don't want to talk anymore.

Mom (Not waiting for me to finish and yelling) What the Hell do you want?

Snickers from both of us.

Me Ahhh, I love us.

Mom dissolves into laughter.

Big Sister Lobster-Possum Wrestling Technique Revealed!

Below are the 10 simple steps to keep control of your younger brother when he does eventually grow much bigger than you. I generally use this when he doesn't let me have my way. Sometimes I just do it for fun.

1. Get within hearing distance of mom.

2. Start to pinch your brother.

3. When he grabs your wrists to immobilize you, start yelling, "Ow, my wrists. You're hurting me! Let go of my wrists!"

4. Mother will start yelling from the other room, "Let go of her! You are going to break her arms! You can't grab at her wrists like!" (At this point, you can grin at your brother as long as you continue to cry out.)

5. Continue to try and pinch your brother so that he maintains control of your wrists to defend himself.

6. When mom enters the room stop pinching and collapse to your knees. Writhing in agony is always a plus.

7. Brother will eventually realize what you are doing and only lightly encircle your wrists.

8. This will only make the situation funnier when mom yells at him some more while he tries to show her that he isn't doing anything and you are only making it all up.

9. Brother will leave the room in disgust as it is a no win situation for him.

10. Thank your mom for her help to ensure she reacts appropriately the next time.

Feel free to silently laugh at your brother from a view where he can see you, but mom cannot. I find that hugging her so that I can look over her shoulder is the most effective method.

BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Ode to My Mom

Ten years ago, I tried to get her to use email so we could communicate more often after I moved to Denver. Her first and last email to me for eight years was, "I hope you are happy. I am now going to Hell because you are making me use an instrument of the Devil to write this message."

So when I told her about my blog yesterday afternoon, the most I expected was indifference. Instead, the first words out of her mouth were, "Did you write about bacon? You HAVE to write about bacon!" This is when I realized that while I thought I was doing this for myself, I am actually writing this for her. Follow along and you will see why.

My mom called me back later in the evening because she had read my blog and wanted to comment on Goldie, but wasn't sure how to log in and could I walk her through the process. Also she was very upset that I didn't have any followers so she had to follow me so that I can have at least one.

While I was signing her up, I randomly mention, "Did you know that I am a robot?"

She nonchalantly replies, "Of course I know you are a robot. I'm your mom. I picked you up from the manufacturing plant when you were a baby."

What I meant was I can never read those pop up texts that ensure you are not some spambot. She had no clue what I was talking about, but it didn't even phase her. Weirdo.

After she had read through the other posts, she announced her idea on my next subject. I am not making this up, and this will explain SO much about who I am.

She tells me that my next post has to be about bunny slippers and how it is so scary to wear them. Because they have eyes. And you can't wear dresses and bunny slippers because they might peek at your underwear.

I love my mom.

She ended the conversation by telling me that I am her favorite daughter and her other two daughters don't compare. I assumed she meant my sister-in-laws which shocked me into silence*. So, she immediately followed up with, "I meant your brothers." Which turned a wildly misplaced statement into a totally awesome FACE! It is the long awaited for comeback to all the "your mama" jokes my brothers have told to each other over the years. Thank God she waited until I was blogging to finally say something insulting. About the boys. She has slammed me on more than one occasion.

Unlike the rest of the family's witty repartee, these jokes are always a little dazing. Mostly because she rarely says anything that might be construed as mean. But when she does a) she beats everyone else to the joke, which says a lot in my family; b) always sounds like she has been practicing the line for years waiting for that exact moment; and c) delivers it perfectly, generating a split-second of silence as everyone glances around awkwardly at each other to figure out if she is joking. Then the room dissolves into laughter. Meanwhile, I am left contemplating the fact that I was just burned by my mom and trying to decide if I should be offended or proud.

Hint: I am always proud. Thanks for being my first follower.
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*This totally horrified and shocked me into silence because she has taught me that when we marry, our spouses ARE her children and our family and they WILL be treated equally. Which is why I am doubly thankful that my sisters are absolutely amazing because it made the whole idea a no brainer. And also why I am very sorry. But you guys knew what you were marrying into, so maybe just kind of sorry.