dream a little dream…

Last night I dreamt that I was dating a girl from Windsor, and while taking her back home, I bumped into Clownboy at the checkpoint.  He walked by me and kicked my testicles.  I responded by beating the *shit* out of him.

And you know what?  Beating the shit out of him felt GOOOOOOD.

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Here is a brief update on my life:

Financial stress level: 10 of 10.  My ex-wife is suing me, I’m already $4200 in debt, I earn a gross of $370 per week, and who knows how this court case will turn out and how much I’ll owe to whom after the dust has settled.  The lease on my $350-month car ends in December, and I’m pretty sure I’ve gone way over my mileage limit.  I’m going to owe them money. And I’ll still need to buy a new car.

Health level: 0 of 10.  I am overweight, I get no exercise, and I have constant mild chest pains.  I turn 32 years old tomorrow, I’m 5’8″ and weigh #230-ish.

Employability rating: 3 of 10.  I have been fired from most jobs I’ve held in my life.  Having spent the last six or seven years in the IT industry as a technical trainer and/or network engineer, I have very little to show for it in terms of real-world, hands-on experience.  I am very intelligent, but have a short attention-span, a poor short-term memory, and can be very belligerent and stubborn.

Academic attractiveness: 2 of 10.  I’ve failed way too many college classes to be taken seriously anywhere anymore.  The fully-funded chemistry PhD program at UMich most likely wouldn’t touch me with a 10-foot pole.

Relationship potential: 4 of 10.  Again, I’m below-average height, overweight, introverted, stubborn, a divorcee who will probably shortly owe major money to my ex-wife and assorted lawyers, and I demand much while giving little in return.  I don’t like going out, and even if I did, I have no money do to anything.

So, that’s the hole I’m in which I need to begin working my way out of.  Here’s what I have going for me:

1) If I do lose this court case, I may be able to sell the house in Boston which my ex-wife and I still co-own.  This would be difficult, but do-able and would probably take care of any debts I owe to her, her lawyer, and my lawyer.

2) I am employed at two jobs – one full-time (but hourly), and one part-time.  The part-time job is a new career for me – massage therapist.  And I must say, I kick ass at it.  I may not be the best or most knowlegable massage therapist in the world, but my current boss says I give the best massage she’s ever had, and she’s had more than her fair share from other people.

3) Despite my saying otherwise, I have time to exercise.  This needs to become my #1 priority.  In fact, I think I’m going to go do so right now.


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Dream 3 of 3

I dreamt that my parents’ house actually existed here in Ann Arbor, and that it was about 50 times bigger than it really is, and housed a performance theater. It was also abandoned. So one day I discovered it was unlocked, so I and a few of my massage therapy classmates went inside to check it out. It was remarkably well-kept, so we decided to make it our own private hang-out spot. I cautioned my classmates, though – I told them “Now, I don’t want this, my parents’ house, to become Party Central for Ann Arbor, or anything like that.” They assured me it wouldn’t. Oh, one of my co-workers was also there, and a male friend of his. No sooner did they say that, but guys who look like the cast of the Sopranos showed up, ready to chase us out of the building. My classmates scattered, and I ran up a few flights trying to find any kind of weapons to fight them off. I found a couple of guns, and managed to fight the Sopranos off with the help of my co-worker. His friend, however, got shot up pretty badly – lost a leg, too. However, he was immediately bandaged up and in remarkably good spirits, despite having just lost a leg.

A couple of days later, we were hanging out at the house again, and the Sopranos came by again. This time I ran upstairs to find more guns, and I came across this young woman who was squatting in the house. Her eyes were completely white. I said “Are you okay?” She cheerfully and enthusiastically replied, “I’m a demon, man!” I asked her to make me a demon, too. So she bit me, and suddenly I was a demon, which didn’t seem to change me too much. The Sopranos caught up with me, and started shooting and throwing knives. The bullets didn’t pierce my skin, and the knives would just make a small cut in my hands when I would block them.


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Dream 2 of 3

I dreamt that I was trying to track down Connie. I dreamt that I found her living way the hell up in Houghton, Michigan. She had married, converted to Christianity, and in my dream I raped her.


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Dream 1 of 3

I dreamt I was at the funeral of one of Heather’s relatives – I don’t think it was her dad, but it might have been. She didn’t know I was coming, but for some reason it was held in Michigan so I decided to go. I sat a few rows behind her, and the funeral was held in sort of a community-theater setting, with rows of chairs that raised slightly as they went back. At one point, she turned around and looked at me – she was wearing a rather thick leather collar with a metal ring in the middle. She smiled at me and had a tear in her eye.


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my psychotic parents

Music playing: The Cure, “Doing the Unstuck,” Wish

I really don’t feel like re-writing all this out, so I’m going to be lazy and just paste:

Me: My mother did something extremely disturbing this weekend and I’m not quite sure how to handle it.
L: ?
Me: One of her cats had a litter of four kittens, and she and my dad drowned them.
Me: I couldn’t believe it.
Me: I’m still rather in shock about it.
L: me too.
Me: Yeah.
Me: See -
L: why didn’t they give them away?
Me: I don’t know whose idea it was -
Me: I have a feeling it was my father’s idea -
Me: but I’m not sure.
Me: I don’t know *what* they were thinking.
Me: But I’m kind of mad at my mom -
Me: I mean, she has all these cats -
L: if they’re going to do that with the kittens they should have just gotten the cat spayed in the first place. *shudders*
Me: she’s not diligent enough to make sure they’re all fixed -
Me: so one the one hand, I’m thinking “What the fuck did you expect???”
Me: And at the same time -
Me: I know my dad is not a fan of the cats -
Me: and he doesn’t have the same respect for life that I do -
Me: so it’s very possible that he decided to put his foot down with this litter.
Me: And my mom felt that she couldn’t argue, because of her poor track record.
Me: So now I’m sort of caught between my strong feelings about what they did -
Me: and the fact that I don’t want to blow this out of proportion.
Me: And my sister can *never* know about this.
Me: She would just go ballistic.
Me: I wouldn’t blame her.
L: how old were the kittens?
Me: Newborns.
L: ah.
Me: Like, that morning.
Me: I just never would’ve thought my parents capable of that level of cruelty.
L: *nods*
L: would that qualify as cruelty to animals?
Me: I would assume so.
L: that’s terrible.
Me: I know.
Me: I was eating a brownie when my mom leaned over and whispered to me -
Me: I stood there for at least a minute, not chewing my brownie.
Me: I couldn’t comprehend what she said.
L: I just don’t understand why they didn’t give them away?
L: they couldn’t wait 8 weeks?
Me: I don’t know.
Me: So what do you think I ought to do?
L: *shrugs* what can you do?
Me: 1) ignore it
Me: 2) yell at them for it
Me: 3) call PETA.
L: do you think yelling at them for it would accomplish anything?
Me: Not sure which is the best course of action.
L: and certainly you aren’t going to turn your parents in.
Me: Nah, but it’s tempting – teach my father a lesson.
L: is he at least getting the cat spayed so it won’t happen again?
Me: I dunno.
L: in perspective though, it’s no worse than what people do to cow, pigs and chickens.
Me: Well, here we differ -
Me: not because a cat is “worth more” than a cow -
L: well, I guess at least you use
Me: but because I don’t think animals should be killed just because they get in the way -
L: the cows, pigs, and chickens for something, so at least it’s not completely pointless.
Me: if you’re going to kill an animal, that’s okay with me, but at least *do* something with it.
Me: Right.
L: they can make kitty stroganoff.
Me: heh.
L: mmmm…tender.
Me: Yeah, but they *didn’t*, so I’m pissed at them. ;-)
Me: brb
L: or how about a nice fur muff for sis.
Me: Hey yeah!
Me: ;-)
L: your parents are creepy.
Me: They weren’t before!
Me: Now they’ve apparently gone psycho.
Me: I don’t think I’ll be spending the night there ever again…I’ll wake up with a horse head in my bed.
L: lol
L: hey just count your blessings they only had two kids of their own! :-P
Me: It may be one soon…if I suddenly disappear, call the cops!
L: *nods* I’d be worried, you are the youngest.
Me: And haven’t reproduced yet…shit.
Me: Can you come over tonight? ;-)
L: lol
L: sorry, not scheduled to ovulate for another 2 weeks.
Me: Gonna have to be on the lam for that long…I can hack it.
Me: I could live off the land in West Park.
L: *chuckles*

So anyway…the Relay on Friday night was kind of a waste – I was there at the very beginning, from 6pm to 10pm, and none of the adults wanted massages. The kids, however, were all over us. Kind of dumb. If I’m going to work on someone, I want it to be someone who really *appreciates* it, and I’m sorry, but an 11-year-old kid just can’t.

L. came over that night, and we went and ran errands all day Saturday, and then went to see “Saved” – cute movie, and damn if the girl didn’t look like one of my co-workers (who also recently had a baby, ironically). Sunday we went to a driving range. She mentioned how she used to go to “the shooting range at MIT”…I think my image of that institution has been forever altered. But, I’ve been looking up public ranges for us to go to – sounds like fun to me too.

Oh – 100% on my muscle test this morning. Go me.

Music playing: Belle & Sebastian, “If You’re Feeling Sinister,” If You’re Feeling Sinister

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the return of psycho j.

Music playing: some dumb Sound-of-Music-esque hold music courtesy of SBC

Got lots of much-needed sleep last night…I tossed and turned all night on Tuesday, probably a combination of adrenaline from playing my drums and the fact that we had a rather large test on Wednesday – we had to give a massage with an instructor watching us and asking us to show them different things, and we also had a four-page written test. I was the first one to take the practical, and had the *director* of the school watching me. She gave me a 94% – I was happy with that, but I know it wasn’t the highest score. I also got a 98% on the written, which may have been the highest score in my class, I’m not entirely sure. Clownboy may have tied me – who knows, who cares.

So last night I got home from work at about 8, played for a little bit, then just said fuck it and went to bed. Got much sleep. Exercised this morning – go me.

I was going to go to the Relay for Life on Saturday, but another massage therapist (who apparently is recovering from breast cancer) came down with a swollen hand (!) and they’ve asked me to cover for her tomorrow night. That’s fine with me – I asked my boss if I could cut out early tomorrow night, and he said sure. Very cool – I’ll miss out on the Friday Night Slam. This also means that I could theoretically go to PP on Saturday, but I already gave it to T., and I told L. to come over on Friday night after I get home. So, I’ll just spend Saturday with L. and relax a bit.

I’m kind of disappointed in T., though – I asked her if she wanted to take my spot at PP on Saturday, and she said yes but she can only be there from 1 pm until 4pm. That’s not very long…what, two, *maybe* three massages? Ah well. At least I avoided having clownboy jump in and volunteer to go.

Oh, so this entry was supposed to be about Psycho J. I ran into one of her ex-bfs at N.’s dinner party last week, and I was inspired to email her afterward. She’s married now, and *was* pregnant, but had a miscarriage a couple of weeks ago. We’ve been emailing back and forth and I’ve been telling her all about my classroom drama just to keep her entertained – she’s on some medication that makes her a bit dizzy. I’m not really sure why I’m indulging her this way…I’m not really interested in being *friends* with her and I certainly don’t want to fuck her. Maybe I just write to her because I’m as bored as she is. Kinda sad. But, I have little better to do at work.

I had sent my Mass. lawyer a whole stack of copies from my bank statements proving I’d paid my ex what I owe her and more…he took them and sent them to her lawyer, but did not keep a copy for himself. This means I get to spend two hours in the sweltering copy room making new copies, and overnighting them to him. Asshole!

Music playing: The Smiths, “Rubber Ring,” Louder Than Bombs

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little drummer boy

Music playing: nothing

Well, I am now the proud owner of a new Yamaha DTXpress Special electronic drum kit. Here’s a link:


I ran home for “lunch” as soon as I saw that Fed Ex had delivered it – got most of the assembly out of the way, so all that’s left to do is to cable everything up and go to town.

And boy, did I get this thing on the right day. I got a call from my lawyer in Mass – there’s a trial date set for Sept. 15th. We’re going to talk again next Tuesday and go over everything I sent him, and the ex’s response. We’ll probably talk to her lawyer as well at some point.

Can’t wait to go home and beat some skins.

Music playing: Roland Orzabal, “Ticket to the World,” Tomcats Screaming Outside

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fun weekend

Music playing: some generic hold music offered by the Brinkmann grill company

Fun weekend: spent Saturday at a “refinement” workshop at school…paired up with S. and T., but at one point W. lost her partner, so I had S. and W. working on me at the same time. One of the TAs called it “massage a trois.” Very clever. I was hoping A. (who I’ve been talking to online for many weeks now) would call me to get together, but no such luck.

I spent Sunday morning rearranging my living room a bit – I bit the bullet and ordered an electronic drum kit from Sam Ash – $1600. Should be mucho fun. I could’ve gotten the $899 kit, but this one has multi-zone cymbals and snare, and comes with the bass pedal and throne. I asked for next-day delivery, but I didn’t place the order until late on Friday, so I’m guessing it’ll arrive tomorrow. I’m stoked. I might set it up in my massage studio if it’s easy to tear down quickly, but we’ll see.

Had a “best of/worst of” experience in class today. We’re doing presentations in class late in July, and we picked our topics today from a prescribed list from which we could not deviate (I already asked the director of the school – she said no). So A. and I were talking since we wanted to work together, and we settled on Music & Art therapy. Thing is, the groups have to have four people, and there was a sign-up sheet, so there was no guarantee that you’d get the topic you wanted. Fortunately, I happened to be standing up at the desk when I asked the TA when she’d post the sheet – she said “Right now – why, do you have a topic you want to pick?” I said “Yes!” I grabbed a pen, wrote my name under Music Therapy, and A.’s under Art Therapy. Turned out a *lot* of people wanted Music Therapy, so I was stoked that I got it. Clownboy also wanted Music, but he settled on “color therapy” – which means he’ll be presenting in the same group as A. and me. Ah well. I don’t think these presentations require a lot of interaction between us, so it shouldn’t be a problem.
Still, I need to make this presentation *good*. I’ll bring in my drum kit if it’s feasible. And if not, then my bass at least. It’s possible to get like 200 points for this 100-point assignment, and that’s what I want.

Then, went to another ballroom dance class with N. She’s sweet, but damn annoying. She mumbles like crazy and has an extremely annoying laugh. Ah well. At least I have a dance partner.

Music playing: the same goddamn hold music, if you can believe it.

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the last temptation of frodo

Music playing: The Cure, “Why Can’t I Be You?”, Kiss Me Kiss Me Kiss Me

Day from hell, day from hell, day from hell. Gotta keep my chin up. A. is sitting on my head and crushing it (I have to stop partnering with her in class). I received a voice mail from my lawyer in Massachusetts – God only knows what my ex is up to now. She’s getting married in a short while…I find it hard to believe she’d choose now to stir the hornet’s nest. But, she’s unpredictable that way.

I mean yes, it *might* be good news (that her lawsuit against me has been dismissed due to the overwhelming amount of evidence against her claim), but I won’t know for sure until I get the guy on the phone.

Music playing: David Bowie, “New Angels of Promise,” Hours

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