Recently in deja vu Category

I had some interesting dreams that I recall from this morning. I shal share them with you for our mutual amusement.

Adventure With NakedJen

I think it's been quite awhile since I've followed the life of NakedJen through her blog. What allures me to her is the fact that she's just one groovy gal, not afraid to pose naked in the most public of places. Her life is extraordinary beyond words.

Well, my dreamscape found me in this cabin in the woods type location, a public park where you can rent a cabin, and I was with other people—could have been my sister & her DH, maybe Pooky was with us, but next thing I know I see NakedJen and know it is her and I introduce myself and we talk. Everyone gets along very well, and then NakedJen takes out a pipe filled with weed and we pass it around, enjoying the consciousness-altering effects of the THC. We giggle, laugh, and we promise that some year we'll meet at the Oregon Country Fair.

Stacey, Do You Recall What We Talked About?

Then in another dream installment, I met with Stacey and we talked and talked and talked, but I don't recall what we shared—do you?

I know we were talking up a storm. Some of may have been about crochet, but I think we just had regular conversation about stuff that interested us. I hate it when I can't remember! I do have a vague feeling that we had a very pleasant, thoughtful conversation—that we clicked on the mental level.

Magical Spring

Just looking at this magical spring located on the familial property known as Tree Crest, I can't help but think that on full moon nights the fairies and pixies come out and dance around, cavorting with their merriment and laughter.

If I were tiny like them, I know I would find it hard to resist not going Pagan and stripping naked and doing my sexy dance around the water.

This little pool trickles into Cady Creek and the sound is like one of those feng shui fountains you can buy. So serene and calming! I look forward to just sitting pool side in July and communing with Nature!

The House

This is a view of the house coming up from the magic spring. It's just a little house nestled on a hillside. The view out the front is of Hood Canal. There is a view of the Olympic Mountain Range if you go into the town of Belfair.

In childhood when we'd visit, it always felt like it took all day to get here. Turns out it isn't that long of a drive. I suspect back in childhood time moved slower. I'm certain of it!

The house has two bedrooms, a large garage, and a nice sitting room. Much of what my grandfather left when he died is still there. The house has an old smell to it. It has lovely Shrone-style wallpaper in the main bedroom.

The town of Belfair has grown significantly, having a couple of large chain grocery stores, restaurants, and shops. It's still not much of a town, but it is enough civilization to not feel totally isolated.

It should be interesting to go hang out here in the summer for a few days, see how Pooky and I like being away from TV, phones, computers, and maybe the cats! We'll have to see what to do with the beasties. I wonder how they would feel about going on vacation? Now that's an idea I won't ponder because they are cats after all!

I've been taking some melatonin at night to help me sleep less fitfully and I think it has prompted me to have more vivid dreams. This morning's dream I have to share because it speaks of the connections I have with my bloggy friends.

I was at this place of employment, and I'm not sure if I was an employee or why I was there, but I'd say there was a handful of people working at this place which was really a house, and come to think of it, no one was really working and I have no idea what type of business it was, yet I was all there among people whom I didn't recognize—all total strangers—yet we were all good friends like we knew each other for years.

Now as it turns out this dream had one of my classic bathroom dreams in which I go to use the bathroom and the place is dirty. My bathroom dreams have a theme of a full, unflushed toilet, or a toilet that isn't working so there is crap everywhere, or there is just a feeling of it being disgustingly filthy.

This time the bathroom had cat poop everywhere on the rug and the toilet itself was clean but there was no way I could get to the toilet because of the dirty carpet. I recall thinking that if my mother were to see how nasty the bathroom looked she'd freak out.

Then somehow in this dream there was a lake or pond or body of dark water and I was floating on it while my fellow co-workers (or whomever they were) stared at me. I recalled thinking how nice it felt to just float weightlessly.

But here is where my bloggy friends come in. I recognized one of the gals as being Elizabeth, and when we made the realization, we started talking friendly with each other and we were talking about yarn—I think about alpaca yarn. Then I asked her if she commutes every day to work, thinking that it would be a very long drive since she lives in Lexington, Kentucky, and then she morphed into Kari and yet was still Elizabeth, creating the new person Kari-Beth!

With my head very confused about just who it was I was dreaming about, the dream faded away and I don't recall anymore of it.

Tonight was the end of the first module for the 2nd years at LIOS. I recall how a year ago how I felt when I first came home after this unique experience. I felt like I had gone to another world and when I came home everything looked so different. I hadn't ever been away from the cats or Pooky that long. I knew I was embarking on a journey of intense growth and transformation, and looking back now I can see how far I've travelled on that path.

I feel so sad being ripped from it. I am very riled by the fact that my professors didn't contact me with formal letters saying I wouldn't be allowed to continue in the program; that I found out this information from a secretary of sorts! I'm angry that they are using my recent hospitalization as reason to keep me from continuing my education.

I think about the new students who started this week. I was so looking forward to meeting them, to having one of them pick me as their mentor for the year. I was looking forward to starting my internship, and finally realizing the end of my academic persuits (for awhile) and starting on a career next June.

What keeps me from thrashing around with a foamed mouth is that there is hope that I can rejoin the program in January and graduate in December. This single thought is what keeps me from imploding or exploding, whichever is easier to do.

Being kept from school for a whole year, I fear that I'll be plunged into a darkness that I will allow to consume me. it hurts too much to explain why being held back feels like a deliberate attack.

Regardless of the outcome of the upcoming meeting with my professors this Saturday, they have a lot of explaining to do. I've found too many inconsistencies in what has been told to me. I want answers. And if I need to, I will play my disability card to the maximum.

Enough said about this. It is depressing me, and I have wonderful news to share.

Well, back in high school during my freshman year. I wrote poems every day I was in algebra. Something about that subject just made the poems come out all the more. Then my poetic well-spring dried up just as quickly as it arrived. But Ro's post via Regina made me feel a little poemsy, so here goes. It's not the best.

I am from Hormel Spam, discontinued bags of Nalley's Cheez Pleezers, and cans of zesty Fresca.

I am from Casa Incantata, the midnight pearl swirling in the madness of King George. On good days I am from Genki Maison like a pearl in the shell.

I am from the snap dragon via a dried lavender bud, speckled with spots of mildew I can never clean out of the shower. Like that creepy evil vine in the yard wrapping itself around the rose bush that smells like raspberries, I will encroach where I am not wanted but seem to need to be.

I am from abandonment and cut-off, the silent treatment, the guilt-trip from Luella Mae station, cankles upon thunder thighs while Lydia gazes from the wall with a Mona Lisa smile, her eyes stare ahead like she could cry because she rests almost forgotten at Lake Pleasant; Fredda's chin dimple and taste for finer things to make up for what she didn't have in a husband or son; oh, how I am so glad never to have known the sharp blows of grandpa Schmitt's temper for I would have been the kind to strike back like the trollop he feared his daughter was!

I am from the line of conservative millionaires who like to live like hermits and pretend they have less money than a street beggar carrying a sign, and would rather let the taxpayer take care of their family responsibility all the while bemoaning how awful it is that there is welfare.

From the moment mother said she deliberately wanted to get pregnant to have you until the time she accused you of the fact that she would lose her job and house because of you being sick, you just knew you had come into the right family, where you definitely belonged. It was like sidling up to the bar at Cheers.

I am from an ancient reverie of noticing the smells of Mother Nature seasoned with mysitc Gnostics mysteries clapping to one hand of befuddled Zen koans.

I'm from a place in Sweden and old Teutonic lands, just outside the great volcanoes of the Cascades; I know that you will never find lion turds in the zoo, and spicy cookies are really pepparkakor.

From the time your sister got her ass stung by a bee at a rest stop to the time your father came home drunk New Year's Eve, stripped naked and hid between the coffee table and couch, meowing incessantly, just before you had your first hospitalization in which you didn't let the surprise visit by the nun scare you, something inside of you knew your life someday would make a great memoire, if not blog.

I am from shrine of your older brother's bedroom that your mother made of it when he went off to West Point, and how she quickly filled your own old room with piles of her excess crap like you never lived there, stuffed away like all of her other things crammed in her cedar chest where she can pretend you never existed until she lifts the lid on that Pandora's Box and finds out the treasure she's missed.

My throat doesn't feel right. I don't feel right. Shit! I hope this isn't going to become a cold. I don't need one right now. Not with Mini-Mod coming up this weekend. It's a long, nasty weekend of class for 12 hours on Saturday.

I finished another doily. It's drying and blocking as I type. Tomorrow I'll be able to take pictures of it. It's still "practice" for me. I have gotten my spirals more uniform, but still they don't look like the ones in the pattern book. It's my Virgo perfectionism seeping out.

It feels like I could lose my voice at any time. I am not a happy camper about this! Getting a cold this time of year sucks!

Tonight the air outside smelled of plant sex. The fragrances were heady and transcendent. I'm finding I'm not immune to the magic of the season and find myself falling in love and lust for Pooky. It sucks that he works nights.

I have this active imagination when I sleep. I often awake and recall what I've been dreaming and just think, "I really dreamt about that?" It's interesting what flits through my subconcious brain as I sleep. Here's some recent examples:

A few nights ago I dreamt that Johnny Depp was a fellow classmate of mine in what was a blend of high school and the LIOS program. In the dream I recall thinking, "I don't recall him being a classmate, and yet I do. This is awfully strange!" Someone in the dream was asking me what it was like to attend class with someone so famous and I replied by saying, "He was very friendly and kind to everyone." My analysis of this dream has got to be related to the Mini-Module in which Carol showed us a plethora of Johnny Depp films in order to bring to life the various mental illnesses we were learning about.

Last night's adventure in dreamland was about my surgeon, Dr. S. A lot of people have been asking me when is my surgery going to happen, and I still don't know as I haven't heard from Dr. S. I hope that he's ok. In the dream, however, I find out that he's suffered a side effect of being so ill and he can no longer speak correctly. Whenever he talks, the words come out in the wrong order. My analysis of this dream is that I think there is a communication problem going on.

A long while ago I had this dream in which I went to the emergency room and the doctor who came in to treat me was none other than Alex Trebek! I recall saying to him, "You're not really a doctor, and I don't think you should try to treat me." He said that he has learned enough about medicine in his twenty-some years of being on Jeopardy! that he felt he could be my doctor. I still wasn't convinced! I have no analysis on that dream other than I do watch Jeopardy! almost every night.

For weeks (seven of them actually) I prepared myself to have surgery on the 23rd, which was yesterday. I've been asking myself and to the greater Cosmos why my surgery date was cancelled—was there a hidden "God moves in mysterious ways" kind of purpose to my surgery being delayed? Stuff like that feels unknowable to me—so I just amuse myself with self-imagined reasons why my ileostomy surgery didn't happen.

I poured a lot of my energy into being prepared. I feel like a balloon with the air let out. Can I fill myself back up once a new surgery date is scheduled? So much went into filling it up the first time...I think having another "Kiss My Ass Good-Bye" Party would be awkward. We did the send-off of my rectum and anus; we went around the table and "let go" of things. It was all very grand and fun and I felt loved and accepted and truly blessed to have such support.

My mind swirls with ideas of rescheduling. The good thing is, I was worried about Module 5 becuase it is required to attend and to miss it would have been EVIL. So I will be attending it without worry of surgical recovery. Once Module 5 is over, there is only Module 6 and Module 7 and Mini-Module 4. Where do I fit in the surgery now? Maybe April? But that terrifies me because I have a wedding scheduled that month and I'm sure more to follow as April is the kick off of the marriage season. But according to my calendar, having it done right after Module 5 will give me the greatest time off between Modules for recovery. This is all dependent upon the substitute surgeon being someone I feel comfortable with performing the surgery, too.

So much swirling around in the Essence! I wonder if the Powers That Be get scheduling headaches. Do they find it amusing to through monkey wrenches in the plans of us mere mortals? Only They know the reasons for what they do. We just scratch our heads and ponder. I'm reminded of a saying from one of the Murphy's Law books: "What the Gods get away with, the cows don't." I have no idea what that means, but it feels like it fits.

Yesterday I realized that my Bartholin's gland cyst is back. I thought it went away when I finally saw my GYN last year and she was able to get into the heart of it so it could drain. I was wrong. My little vaginal pain nugget is alive and well, making life extra-specially wicked in the region of my undercarriage. My other peri-anal abscess is feeling pinchy, too.

The thought that maybe the Bartholin's gland will need to be removed came into my mind. My GYN said it can be done, but is a very bloody and messy surgery. Not something you'd want to do unless it was necessary. It is my hope that shutting up my butt and diverting all fecal flow out through an ostomy will stop the Bartholin's gland from "cysting". There may be some connection between it and the funky plumbing I have.

With Module 4 rapidly approaching, I hope that the cyst will go away (as it has been known to do) or that it will do its swelling thing within a week so I can get it drained. I don't want to get to module and have it reach critical mass and fever sets in.

So I'm in a funky, icky mood. Taking the pain medication only increases my level of evil moodiness. *Sigh* Can someone just shoot me and get it over with?

the date of this dream took place two days before my fiance got married the first time. is it mere coincidence that i had this dream so close to his nuptials?

7/13/98

I had two connected dreams this morning. The first was about the person I feel that I'm soon going to meet that I feel will be a potential lover, only I don't want one. Some of the dream details were fuzzy, but the most impressionable thing was that he is a doctor. i could feel his soul/personality in the dream. he is like someone I know---have known. Yet, I can't quite place him. The second dream I was at Home Burrough [my name for my familial childhood home] in the living room off of the kitchen. Lisa [my sister] was there with the 'mystery man', and the third person was an amalgam of Ron and Corey [Corey being my first husband/lover, Ron being my second].

The Ron/Corey person was altering my consciousness by making weird objects suddenly appear and from from his mouth. Meanwhile Lisa was setting up some sort of stuff to further aid in our shifts of consciousness. She was talking about Autumn, a girl Corey new around the time of our separation/divorce.

I felt my consciousness shift, and details of what happened are blurry, and involved Ron a lot. I was with him and we were trying to be sexual with one another, but the energy/feelings weren't there anymore (it didn't feel right), and so our efforts didn't go anywhere. I then recall looking at this mystery man and he was a shadowy figure---dark and silhouetted. I couldn't get a good look at him as I just couldn't seem to focus on him. He seemed small for a man. My instinct tell me to not allow him to disrupt my life. I feel uneasy about him because he would only serve to break apart Ron and me.

Some comments on this dream. I had felt at the time that the mystery man, aka my future lover, was a doctor, but that was what I applied to him at the time because I was making an assumption based upon my desire to go to medical school. What I felt from him was a strong, ability to heal people through energy/auras.

At the time, I realized that my relationship with Ron was breaking down, that we were no longer looking in the same direction, yet I could not bring myself to break off the relationship just yet. I wasn't ready to let go, for we had been together for seven years. Eventually I did come to realize that my path was traveling in a different direction, and my relationship with Ron ended. Shortly after that relationship ended I met my fiance.