Mar 27, 2013

If I Wrote a Memoir of my Life...

If I was to write my own memoir, I would also do the audio reading as well, but I would insist on not releasing the book until after I was dead because the final line would be... "And then I died." I would choke up, gasp, and you would hear a thump like I fell on the floor. Then you'd hear nurses, doctors, and medical staff. And then silence....

But just to creep you out you would begin to hear ominous laughter after like 45 seconds of silence.... and then I would say... "I'm not dead, I'M BEHIND YOU!!!" And hopefully you're not driving because that would really cause some accidents... but since I would be dead already... you couldn't sue me.

Mar 26, 2013

I Had a Dream the Other Night

I had a dream the other night. I've had this dream in variations before... but this time it startled me. It's stayed in my spirit. The feeling has stayed in the pit of my stomach... even at this very moment.

Many times I dream that I have had a baby. A little girl. A pretty little baby girl. [And this greatly affects me, because I would love to have a daughter one day.] But for whatever reason, I have forgotten that I have a baby.

I walk into the house one day and I close the door and something in my head says, "You forgot to feed the baby!" And I run to go feed my child, but I can't find her. I can't remember where she is! Did I take her to the babysitter? Is she with her father? I panic. [In my dream I panic, but I can physically feel my heart beating and my body breaking into a sweat.]

But I'm panicking, until I hear a little whimper. A whimper from the closet. And I open the closet and there she is. "My baby!" She is bundled up in a basket and wrapped in blankets. Dressed in cute romper and a bow. But she's all shriveled up and her big eyes are staring at me. Staring at me with questioning eyes..."Why did you leave me in here?" "How could you forget about me?" "Don't you love me?"

And I begin to cry and hug my child. I apologize to my child, but she begins to gasps, gasping for air.
"I have to save my baby!", I exclaim. I carry her in the basket downstairs to the kitchen. I open the cupboard to find jars of baby food. Applesauce, gone bad. Peas and carrots, gone bad. Pot roast, spoiled too.  I hear her gasp again.

"Water! I need water!"

I run the faucet and quickly fill a bottle with water.

"Drink this baby girl! It will help you!", I say with tears and hopefulness in my eyes. "Please drink". I am pleading.

And she does... she drinks the water. She drinks it down. She is happy. She smiles and she wants more. I fill her bottle again and give her more. Her shriveled body seems to plump back up magically. I hold her in my arms and promise to never let her go again.

So I have my baby. I am satisfied. I saved what is mine. But then I hear a knock on the door.

"Can you help her?"

"Help who?"


The stranger, a woman dressed in a black suit points to a young woman... maybe in her twenties and she has a son.

"Can you help her?"

I answer, "I can, but what can I do?"

She needs you to raise her child.

And before I can think I reply, "I can do that."

The woman hands me the boy, all the while I am holding my own daughter whom I"m almost lost by my own irresponsibility. The woman in black suit and young mother are now gone. Now I have two babies. Two babies. Much responsibility. And I feel the weight, but I am happy.

That's when I woke up.

I'm sure I know what the dream means, but maybe someone else out there may have a take on what they think it means. Are there any Joseph and Daniel spirits out there?

Mar 21, 2013

Let's Get Metamucil On This Blog!

I'm going to get better at writing in this blog. Unfortunately I am addicted to Facebook and I find myself sharing some of my best thoughts in well thought out, but rather long status messages.

I don't want to be that person.
The Facebook Status Philosophizer. Preacher. Teacher.

No it's time to reserve my FB timeline for Grumpy Cat memes, news stories that I feel pertinent to share, and the random quips that I think of frequently.

It's time that I attend to my Wonderland on a regular basis.

Let's bust some fiber in these key strokes and get Metamucil on this blog!

(I don't care if that last sentence made sense or not... I thought it was funny.)