live music

Here is another absurd thing I believed as a child:

I was frequently awestruck by music radio when we were in the car. Not because music is amazing (though it is), but because I thought that every band and every singer was doing every song live at the radio station. I thought commercials were just put in between while they waited for the next person to get there.

…I might also add that I was not convinced every band/singer was human. This song here?

Yeah. I always pictured AC/DC as orcs. Like in the Rankin-Bass version of The Return of The King.

Yeah. Nothing alike, I know. But the child me was pretty convinced that orcs existed. And that they played music live on the radio sometimes.



I had this dream the other night, and woke up very annoyed.

At the beginning, I am taking donation calls at a radio station I interned at. I can tell by the way I am talking that I am not me, but am the manifestation of Wolf that could be my twin brother, if I had one.

A few seats down from me is a girl I know. She comes over to my seat and says a weird call keeps being transferred to her line, and wants me to answer if it calls again. She shows me a paper where she wrote down the number, and I agree to talk to them if they call again.

Soon enough, she beckons me over and I answer her the phone. I say hello, and the caller says, “I didn’t call to talk to you.”
And he hangs up.

Not long after, she brings her cell phone over and shows me a call she just missed. It’s the same number. They left a voicemail for her, and she has me listen to it. It sounds like the man I heard on the donation phone, and he says, “they’re dead. They’re dead.”

He sounds angry, like he’s threatening to kill someone, rather than like he’s trying to tell her someone is already dead.
I ask her if she knows who this person is or what he’s talking about, but she just shrugs and doesn’t really look at me. She doesn’t really look at you when she lies.

Then the dream changes, and I am at a mall. There is a fountain with a pool, and sitting on the ledge are three little, slightly Asian looking children. A girl and two boys. She is standing with them and gives them pennies so they can make wishes. I am not at the mall with them, but she sees me and says hello.

I ask her if she got any more weird calls. She hesitates, and then says that she thinks the man was talking about the children sitting at the fountain. I ask her if she told their parents and she gives me this look, like I’m a very stupid person. And she says they’re hers.

That’s news to me, but before I can say so, the children are crying and coughing. Really loudly. I am annoyed, but when I look over, I see they’re doing this because a crazy man is holding the girl and the older boy’s faces so close to the surface of the pool that the ripples from the fountain are washing over their faces and choking them. The littlest boy is just crying because he’s scared of the crazy man.

Wtf, dream world?

She sort of drops out of the dream at that point, and my self-as-Wolf pulls the man backwards so he falls and lets go of the children. They kind of fade out of the dream, too, and it’s just this crazy man and I.

He is mostly bald, with some grey left over. Glasses. Blue polo shirt. Khaki shorts. White shoes. Those tall white socks that dads wear with shorts and sandals to embarrass their children…I have never seen him in my life.

His otherwise unremarkable face is twisted in a crazy-person snarl, and he looks for a minute like he will get up and try to fight me. Then he starts laughing.

I tell him he’s crazy (you know…in case that hadn’t occurred to him), and ask who he is, going around and trying to kill children like that.

And…he stops laughing. And looks at me with narrowed eyes, like he’s telling me something that should already have occurred to me.

He says that he was sent for them (the dream implied psychically that it was their father who sent him, but he didn’t actually say that), and they were his to deal with however he saw fit. I started to tell him he was mistaken, and he cut me off. And told me to stop pretending I was a hero, because he knew I didn’t care if those children lived or died–deep down, I was only angry because they weren’t mine.

He did not say those words to me though. He said them to Wolf. And we were so angry…I think the dream ended with us moving to attack the crazy man, but in that moment I woke up.

These dreams, man…sometimes I don’t even know.


Here is a stupid thing I believed when I was a child:

I did not understand that not all seals are airtight. I never said anything to my parents, but I would get scared sometimes when we would drive someplace and neither the AC nor the heat was blowing, because I thought that was how the air was getting in the van.

I thought that if we had it turned off for too long, and didn’t open a window or something, that we might breathe up all the air and die before we got where we were going. So I would always pester my parents to turn the air back on if I thought it had been off for a long time (which, for a child in a car, is maybe 10 minutes), because if I didn’t, I would be reduced to not talking and trying to take very small breaths or hold my breath until we got there.

Probably for the best that I never aspired to be an astronaut.


He doesn’t have it.

But I suppose it’s my fault: I keep forgetting about him. And then, there he is. Talking to her. And I am so taken aback that I don’t even move to cuff him or shoo him away. How can I?–I forgot he might still talk to people with my voice. He’s been so…absent.

But this other me is still in here, it seems. Even if he doesn’t want to spend every waking moment burning and murdering. Instead, he is asking her to come with us without even thinking through whether that is a good idea…stupid creature.

He could have at least had the decency to look away.


Thursday will be my last day at my home theatre. On Friday, I start as a manager at another theatre in our market.

I won’t lie…I am utterly terrified about it. Like a small child would be.

What if I am not good at it?
What if nobody likes me?
What if the situation there is bad?

I texted Toni about it, since she is the one person I will really miss from our theatre. She’s not happy about it, but it does mean we can hang out without worrying about getting in trouble, since I won’t be her supervisor anymore.

I’m sleepy now, so goodnight.


It’s been a minute since I posted. But I haven’t really got anything to say…

I plowed through Jennifer’s copies of Game of Thrones first season.

I–regrettably–turned down an evening of hanging out with Toni and her boyfriend. As much as I wanted to not turn them down, I did already have plans with Jester, and he is my favourite person to spend times with.

I went to the bookstore and bought Neil Gaiman’s newest book (which is as dark and as wonderful as they usually are), and the first Game of Thrones book. I could not find a copy of it in paperback, and had to ask for help…which I never do…but the bookstore girl was very nice and we chatted for a little while. I liked her.

I started seriously cleaning up my disorderly room…playing a game wherein I can do something I want for a while–read or do an internet thing–but then I have to tidy away 50 items. It’s pretty bad when I have enough underwear to fold away and receipts and plates on the floor that I get to 50 in about 20 minutes. About a third of my room is tidied…I am not looking forward to sorting and filing all my loan and insurance paperwork.

I applied for two manager spots, one at my own theatre, and one at another store. We’ll see how that goes, since the other store wanted me to come over as a supervisor a few weeks ago…unless it comes with a raise, it’s really not worth it though.

I read the entire Gaiman book in a single sitting…because they made me open the other day (barbarians…who in their right mind likes to be awake at 6am?) and I came home and slept for three hours, and then was wide awake at 10pm. I’ve since read about 2/3 of the Thrones book, and it’s not bad. I worried it would be, but the writing is good enough and the vulgar language and numerous sex scenes in the show are apparently not much a part of the actual story. I has the likes.

I went to see Pompeii.

I…thought a good deal about this story I started. Shamefully, I have yet to write more in it…but it occurred to me that, in the dream I based it off, I never saw Prince Sebastian, since I was him. I know what kind of character he was…but I don’t know what he looks like. Curious.

I took my dog on a walk because I thought it was a bit warmer…bloody is not. I froze my fingers off and we had to run back to get in the car, and I buckled her in the backseat and gave her cookies so she’d lick my fingers and help them warm back up faster. Silly doggy.

That’s all I’ve got to say for myself.


Been a rubbish day, full of what Toni would call “brain static”.

Woke up and read the rest of my Doctor Who book, which was rather sad because I’ve watched the whole series on Netflix, too…so…no more Doctor Who for the moment.

Ate some dinner and then went to put gas in my car and get some things from the store with my sister. Store wasn’t very agreeable. I went with the intention of getting three things, and so I did, except only half of one was what I originally meant to get, since they didn’t have what I wanted.

Did my eTips training online so I am properly certified to serve alcohol again. Very dull program. Even worse when the audio card is spoilt on the only computer in the house that’s hooked up to a printer.

Been watching Game of Thrones and I don’t know if I actually like it. It claims to be part of the fantasy genre, but I have some misgivings. They introduced us to supernatural creatures right in the first scene of the first episode, but then leave that off and have no more of any of it until the sixth episode? Ridiculous.
Plus, all the sex? What’s it for? Certainly not to move the plot forward in an effective way. Same reason I stopped reading a few book series that I’d originally found interesting…too many unnecessary sex scenes ruin what would otherwise be a good plot.

Did some laundry and don’t care to put any of it away…so…bedtime, I suppose. And work tomorrow. And the day after, and probably the next few days after that.



I’m so very sleepy.

I think I shall go to bed now…..that is what you people do when you’re sleepy, yes?

(Maybe not. Maybe you’re like me and feel compelled to bloody stay awake doing and doing and doing things for no reason other than that there are things that could be done.)

But I’m going to try this going to sleep when actually sleepy thing. And not find reasons to stay up.

As soon as I post this…

a bug

That’s what I said, and then fell right back asleep and had a massively trippy dream.

Idk. Maybe we’re getting old, or maybe we’re just tired a lot, but Jester and I seem to spend a lot of quality time sleeping. And that shouldn’t be the case, because I already sleep a lot.

But, yeah. We came home from dinner, and pretty much fell straight asleep. And I kept waking up because I knew I wasn’t supposed to be sleeping yet. And because I had a tickle in my throat. And because my arm was asleep all the way up through my shoulder. And a million different reasons.

And one of them, I woke up and saw a soldier bug on the ceiling. And I said that there was a bug, but I’m not sure why I said it because I knew Jester was sleeping.

And I went back to sleep and dreamed that the house had frogs in it. Red-eyed ones that live in the rainforest.

That kind of makes sense, since his mom collects frogs and there are frog toys and frog decorations and frog images in the house. But in my dream, the frogs were sort of…taking over other creatures. Like, there was a toad. He looked like a toad, all bumpy and whatnot. But he was starting to turn green and his skin was smoothing out and eyes turning red like the frogs. And a cat whose fur was turning green and whose legs were deforming so that the cat had to hop instead of walk normally.

And then there were the tapirs.

The first one I encountered in the dream was because someone I used to be friends with came into the room and woke me up. He said that the plan was almost complete because we could finally talk to the tapirs, and I was like, “wtf…?”
I think that was about the point where I stopped being me and assumed another character.

My former friend led me out of the house into this giant, warehousey-type place, and introduced me to a baby tapir.



This one was just as goofy and cute looking, but also came from a long line of tapirs who had been trying to communicate with us for generations. Because they could fly spaceships.


Ah. Um. No? I don’t really fancy letting anything that makes faces like that fly me around in a spaceship. I don’t even know how my brains came up with that one, but this picture sums it up nicely.


And also, here is a lion playing the accordion. Because who knows what pictures will crop up when you search for “tapirs in space”?


Anyway, so this baby tapir communicated to us that his people had completed the ship we requested, and the warehouse was actually inside the ship–I never saw the outside of it.
That was also the point at which I learned that I wasn’t human, but that I was part of a humanoid race that was considered inferior to humans because, when we arrived on Earth, we had been somewhat like the opposite of the frogs in my dream…we had an amorphous quality and adopted the humanoid form because it suited us, not because that’s what we actually looked like. And we adopted human culture because we’d lost our own when we travelled through space in our amorphous forms.

But we were immortal. And, being immortal, we had finally grown unhappy with the state of being human servants and human companions, and being subjected to everything human…so the group that had gathered in the tapirship had decided that what we were going to do was fly the ship to a certain place–Idk where it was–and crash it so that we would have a crater that we could build our own amorphous city in, and it would be just ours and there would be no humans.

And…for a dream that started by me cuddling and falling asleep, I am surprised at the coldness of my dream character up until that point. The character was okay with the frogs absorbing the Earth’s animals, and with destroying large swaths of land to create our own space…but then I asked our leader–some blonde woman in a pink dress…you know it’s a weird dream when Barbie is leading an alien-tapir-frog rebellion against Earth–if we could choose instead to remain with the humans, and she got all angry and said I was stupid for asking that because why would any of us want to stay with them?

I thought about that and didn’t say anything. But I did take a bottle from the boxes and boxes and boxes of Squeeze-It drinks that were stacked around the space ship.


Apparently, we were not supposed to do that, and I think I knew it because the ship lurched suddenly and bottles went flying everywhere. I was promptly subdued and given a lecture about how stupid and human I had become because I could give up my form so that I didn’t need to drink things anymore, and I didn’t need to be impulsive like humans, and I could have really damaged our mission, blah blah blah.

So I told her that I liked being humanish, and wanted to know who had made her the ruler of our people, but she had some sort of reasoning behind it…being the one who instigated all the planning or something. But at that point, others in the ship were getting angry because they hadn’t signed up for the mission just to be told what to do all over again…and the designated designer of the city started freaking out when he was told he had to land the ship a certain way to make the crater a certain shape, etc…so…he sort of started losing his form and expanding until he was a giant angry face with bulging veins and eyes, and he said that he was Icarus the genius and he would create a city for us that had nothing to do with Barbie’s dictatorship…aaand, he absorbed all the Squeeze-It’s, and then exploded in a way that melted part of the ship and killed Barbie, and also sent us crashing down to the desert where we would build our amorphous crater city…


And all I can say is that settles one thing: I do enjoy being humanish.



, ,

That’s the word. Attuned.

That’s what I detest about people, because they never get that way about anything but my anger. Everyone senses it. Not happiness. Not even sadness.

It’s a rubbish way for people to relate to you.

But I should be good with that, being an ultimately rubbish creature.

Should be. Am not.
I mean, for one or two people to ask me yesterday is irritating. But today? More asking. Hesitant asking. Like they think I will bite them. And I wasn’t even coming off as cross today.

But its nobody’s damned business if I am cross. I have every bit as much right to be as other people do. And all I want is to be left alone about it. And about most things. Not all of the things, obviously, or I wouldn’t be compelled to do a lot of things that I do…but really.

Just let me be.

I can rejoin humanity when I’m fit to, and no amount of asking me to tell you what’s wrong or extoling me to feel better or calm down is going to help me–it actually just makes it worse.

Because, I suppose I’m not like people. I don’t need to talk about why I’m angry. I just need left alone until I can feel quiet. And every little query is like throwing a little more fuel into the furnace.

I still don’t feel quiet.

I just feel like a stupid, purposeless thing and why do we care if it gets angry or if it feels or if it sleeps or wakes or even breathes?

And I guess that all stands in such stark contrast to the moments where I am brilliant and clever and entertaining that people have to bloody home in on it and not let it go.

Stupid reaction, that.

And emotions. As a whole. I really could do without them. Because this is how they work for me: a Thing Happens and I Don’t React, Or, Nothing at all Happens and I React in Excess.

What is the purpose of that?
To vex me and give me something to do when it is 530am and I am still awake, I suppose.


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