Sunday, October 9, 2011
A full-on real blog post should be along soon, I'd like to get back to writing things of substance here rather than dashes of life. But right now I just want to celebrate the fall. It's such a beautiful season-- even if you're in a place where the leaves don't really change and you miss all of that colorful beauty (Oh, East Coast, I will see your colors one day), there's that FEELING and that CHILL in the air. It's like a promise that the wind brings us, and for me it must be soaked in nostalgia because it always makes me feel good. I always thing of holidays and good books and fireplaces and my cat and listening to music like Nico or The Weepies on a rainy Ventura day, staring out the windows of the cafeteria or the bus, eating a poptart or somesuch thing. Trading noir books with my friend. Drinking coffee and tea and helping my mom in the kitchen. Watching Arrested Development, curled up in my room after school. And even then, that subtle thrill! That promise that something is going to happen, even when you're snuggled cozily in your bed. Something's coming and it's wonderful.
I love the fall. I love it.
Thursday, October 6, 2011
So this morning I had a cross-genre dream about Jim Carrey.
It began with some grisly murder scene that my subconscious apparently just didn’t want to finish because I think it just switched gears from that to me looking at a magazine full of stuff for our apartment. But I was living in an apartment with my mother and non-existant brother in the middle of Los Angeles. And apparently someone we knew was murdering other people we knew, but we couldn’t shake our ties to them. And we kept getting pictures sent to us of the murder scenes. And one day we got some kind of warning that the killer was coming to get us, and my mother insisted we were trapped, but she couldn’t tell me why. Then I realized we must not be all that trapped, so I left the apartment and ran around LA until I figured out that we only THOUGHT we were trapped there. And I had to rescue them from the apartment. But by the time I got there Jim Carrey, who was the killer, was there with all manner of torturous devices, scaring my mom and whatnot. And I wasn’t all that scared of him anymore, so I was like hey, Jim, you leave them alone etc. And then he was all happy and creepy and we went into this little room with this HUGE knife. And he was like, “I’m so glad you were chosen.” And then he got out the knife and he said “Okay. Now we’re going to play a little game. We’ll cut off parts of our bodies until one of us passes out, so we chose carefully.” So I told him that was a great idea, especially since we were taking turns. I then craftily told him to cut off his foot (this coming from a girl who hasn’t even seen the SAW movies) and he did and then obviously he couldn’t chase me. But then he was apparently way turned on by my craftiness/desperate for me not to leave him in his own blood and kept trying to seduce me by saying things like he did it all for me and we were both twisted so we should get it on.
And then I woke up. The worst part is that even in my dream I knew it was ridiculous but I was actually considering it.
Oh, yknow, you tried to kill me and my family and you're footless and gushing blood all over the place, but hey, why not. I doubt I could do much better.
AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. Also it wasn’t like young Jim Carrey or even attractive Jim Carrey from Eternal Sunshine. It was just… weird old Jim Carrey. I just… I don’t know about myself sometimes.