Dreams

My dreams are telling me to write. To the point where the dream-me is running a constant narration of what is occuring in my dreams.

Case in point:

Last night's dream was set in Anchorage (I attribute this to being in touch with Anchorage people and my father's recent birthday). I lost my car. Well, I couldn't remember where I parked it, so I cut through the trees towards where I thought it might be. (The trees I cut through were the off-limits forest between the Knowles trail and Lake Hood.)

Before I hit Lake Hood, I ended up in a parking lot where I ran into my mother (who hasn't been in Alaska for well over a decade) and she asked to see my keys to help me sort out where I'd put my car (what make) when we determined that I didn't come in a car, but a plane. She and I wandered about heading towards Lake Hood and overshot it by a bit, ending up near Alaskan Knives and finding a well preserved pre-historic underground native artifact site.

When we emerged from poking around (not touching anything), we were on the other side of La Mex, but in the same location.

I woke before I found my plane. (Which is probably good because I have no idea where I was living in order to require me to come to Anchorage in a float plane.)

But during the entire dream, my mother was telling me that it was okay with her if I wrote my teenaged memoirs (or something to that effect) and that she wouldn't hold any of it against me. And dream-me had constant narration in her head, describing the dance required to negotiate spruce, fir, and alder without being caught by airport security or surprised moose.

My psyche is telling me to write. I'm happy for that, but at the same time, I've never had "GO DO THIS" dreams quite so clearly.

Now to figure out if I should write books, novellas, screenplays, or plays. (Or radio plays, blablabla.) But until then, back to domesticity. I still have washing up to do from last night and preperation for the grocery delivery.

This also means that I have to get in the mindset to actually edit my work. I hate editing.

Reviews and opinons to come!

Oh man, it's been busy. Aside from not feeling well (apparently, it's a pre-requisite for turning 30 in my body), it's been a constant whirlwind of events here.

So, here's a list of the reviews and posts and whatnot to come over the next few days...

Accent On Youth (play)
Exit the King (play)
Waiting for Godot (play)
Bam-Bou (restaurant)

...I'm sure I'm missing something, maybe The Brit can help me out.

And yes, I've turned 30. Oh, my... 30. I suppose it should be scary and bad, but it's really just another year. Or so I keep telling myself. I've compensated for aging by dyeing my hair blue. A friend of mine came over (thanks Emma!) to help me out with the bleaching and dyeing. My hair takes after its owner - certain parts of it were just resistant. I figure that I'll muck around with it when it's time to do the redyeing. Still need to get a haircut done and then the following cut, I'll have them do a professional bleach/strip job and come home and have The Brit goop me up.

However, the dyeing led to two awesome things aside from the blue hair: awesome bacon and pea pasta dinner of numminess and the best tweet that was ever tweeted in the twitterverse. In England. That hour. Originating from the 3rd floor of a building.

"I have lube, Emma, and food. I'll leave it to you to imagine what we'll be up to."

So, my early mid-life crisis has displayed itself in the form of blue hair. I like the front colour better than the back and will probably do that on my whole head for the next time. Or if the back blue washes out before the front does.

I swear, I'll do the reviews soon! Promise!

17 days and counting...

17 days until I see TheBrit again (yay!) and 23 days until I'm back in London.

Apparently my father wishes to "check him out" and "explain to him that if he screws over my daughter he'll be finding out what CPR is." I think my father has a few latent issues. No matter how amusing he might find it, I don't appreciate the threat to my boyfriend/partner's well-being. Yes, yes, I know he's being Daddy Protective, but still. I'm thirty in a little over a month and the amount of involvement he's had in my life lately has been minimal. (Likely because I am thirty in a little over a month.)

It's strange. I never thought I'd be the one to settle down. I honestly figured that I'd have a string of interesting relationships throughout my life but never really decide to kick it into wedding bells and all that jazz. Now that it looks like that's a possibility (and because he reads this, TheBrit is not allowed to tweak about anything I say about this here. Neener.) I'm figuring out the thing that probably tweaks me most about marriage. My family. Yep. I don't think everyone I'm immediately related to has been in the same room... Ever. And I suspect that I will have a full-on Bridezilla meltdown if they don't all play nice. Eloping sounds better and better and better every moment that I think about it.

We're past the historical need to "blend families" via marriage. There is no business or lineage bonus to this pairing. I am no longer considered chattel merely because of a consequence of sex. Sure, my upper body strength sucks, but I'm a fully capable person in my own right and don't need to be "given away" or otherwise transferred from my household of birth to a future spouse's household. I do not represent the continuation of any lineage (and if anyone's expecting it... Grow a uterus and do it yourself. Mine is not for rent, lease, or sale).

And honestly? I'm going to be 30 (at least) when I finally do get hitched, if TheBrit and I decide that's how we want our relationship to progress. Yeah, I dig his folks and his family. They don't drive me crazy like I'm sure they do to him sometimes. And he digs the ones of mine that he's met. I just really don't need my father to put him through some arbitrary bullshit adversity test. You know what, Dad? He may not be a hunter and a fisher, but we don't need to share every single hobby. I understand that he's a separate and distinct person and what he does with his spare time and money is up to him. We have enough in common that we suit one another quite well. Hunting and fishing are not the day in, day out existences that he and I both value. It's a skill, and should the apocalypse come, he'll learn or starve...

I don't need an alpha male. I really don't want one. (They're boring, they smell, and really, they're just not good people all the time.) What I have is the possibility of a wonderful life with a person that suits me more than I could have imagined in my life, and I'm really fucking lucky. I don't care about what he can't do. I care about who he is and how good of a person he is to me and for me. If you disapprove, then that is your right. But you will be down a daughter, because this person is who I choose to cleave to, not required to as a result of a genetic pairing.

"Are you two going to have 'normal' pets?"

I've had people ask me that ever since TheBrit and I started discussing pets. I love animals. I feel towards animals the way that every other woman feels about children. They are a requirement in my life.

Out of respect to TheBrit's lack of pet-ownership status ever in his life (Seriously? I wasn't aware that there were people out there that never had pets. Between pets, sure, but never?), we have decided to start small.

First it was ferrets, and then TheBrit found out about African Pygmy Hedgehogs...

Now, I've wanted a hedgie for a while. They're small, they're cute, and they're pocket pets. Not high-load interaction, so they really are a good starter animal for TheBrit. Nevermind that I'm going to be the one doing most of the day-to-day care (because TheBrit comes home just on the weekend) so he won't be doing the daily or weekly cage cleaning.

Given that, I figured TheBrit wouldn't be too curious about what it entailed. Was I ever wrong. I love being the know-it-all, and I'm having to rush to keep ahead of him. He's been devouring information and I suspect that within a year of having one hedgie, we'll be getting a second, as well as the cadre of ferrets (which would be the next step up from hedgehogs, I suppose).

Eventually, I will have my cats and Great Dane. But the pet list is currently looking like this...

Hedgehogs
Ferrets
Ball Python
Cats
Giant-breed Dogs

Probably not all at once, but the hedgehogs and ferrets are looking as though they'll be within the next year. We're looking at getting the hedgie after we get back from our antipodean jaunt and the ferret will probably come a half-year later.

All I have to say to that is, YAY PETS! I miss having animals around. They make my life full.

[Edit: Apparently TheBrit kept a goldfish once. It wasn't well cared for (his admission) and didn't live all that long. Do we think this counts?]

Well, that did it...

I've been wanting to cut my hair short for a while. I figured that I'd go back to my a-line short bob style that I had a few years ago. But then I sorta changed my mind.

Not in that "oh, no, I'll keep my current non-style" way, either.

No. I decided that I had to do this...
<---

Yeah. That's me with my hair, at it's longest, 6 cm.

Awesome.

I'm so loving it. It's somewhere between Alyssa Milano in her Phoebe cut from Charmed and Mariska Hargitay from SVU during her supershort days.

TheBrit likes it because he will no longer get a face full of hair when nuzzling my neck. Or having to deal with trailing wet hair everywhere. It dries in 10 minutes. YAY!

The downside of the hair is that it kinda requires styling and makeup if I'm going out. I think that as I get used to the hair then I won't feel like I have to do everything and can pare down to mascara and lipgloss on the down days.

But I'll still need to put goop in the hair.

But it is awesome. Any woman that dreams of going supershort? Don't dream it, be it. Find a style you like, take it into your stylist, have them do you up right.