I wish I understood dreams and what makes some insanely strange. Last nights dream was super odd and actually had me laughing when I woke up.
I was at church with my mom and I was singing with the praise team. We are singing and I looked down in the congregation and my ex from like 9 years ago was sitting with my sister, and he mouthed at me “do you have any change” and I was like what? yeah, hold on, but I was thinking I’m singing right now, why are you asking me about change? And then he was gone.
Then all of a sudden someones phone went off (it was the robot sound on the iPhone) and I was like oh my gosh who has their phone on up here? It should be on silent. Then I realize I can’t hear any of the music anymore because the robot sound is so loud. Whose phone is it? It’s my mom’s phone. So I grab her phone off the piano and turn it to silent but the sound didn’t stop. So people are singing and I couldn’t turn it off, IT WOULDN’T FREAKIN STOP, so we took it out of the church and gave it to this girl Andy from the church I used to go to and she was trying to get it to stop and she couldn’t make it shut up either. It was making her read every calendar reminder that existed on the phone, and somehow it became her phone, and she was like I NEED THESE REMINDERS so she wouldn’t let me cancel them, she was just rescheduling the reminders and they were dots on a map, like the alarm was based on a city where the bill was due and IT WOULDN’T STOP ALARMING. So I let her deal with it and I went back into the sanctuary to finish the song because it was such a good song but I couldn’t hear the verse they were on because I could only hear the alarm so I was putting my ear close to the mouths of the people singing but I still couldn’t hear them. So they kept repeating one verse over and over so I could figure it out but then then I argued with the choir director (it was a tall red headed woman and her hair was puffy. It was not the current choir director at my moms church, because that would make sense) because she had a deep voice so I said I’ll sing the soprano on this part and and she was like no, I’m soprano so I said are you kidding me? you have a deep voice! no way, you’re out of your mind.
And then I woke up and my stupid alarm had been going off for 11 minutes.
I described this dream to my mom and she reminded me that a choir director they used to have at church, like a decade ago, was a red headed lady with a deep voice.
So, while I’m interested/obsessed with violent shows, when approached with a real life situation, I do nothing.
Real Life Example from years ago:
I lived at home and I was in my bedroom, fairly late at night, probably half asleep and I heard a gun shot coming from my parents room. So I creep out of my bedroom, down the hall to see if everything is ok…I get to the bedroom door and listen. I hear nothing. Then I start thinking oh my gosh, what if someone broke in? What would I do? If I walk in that room and confront a burgler, I won’t walk out alive. I’m not cut out for danger. I mean seriously, if they got my dad, who has guns and military training then what am I gonna do? I only have fists and knees and screams. I can’t protect the family.
So I went back to bed. I guess just to wait and see if the killer came and got me? Who knows. I should have ran out of the house. I really don’t know what I was thinking just going to bed. Maybe I thought it was just a dream. But it wasn’t and I know this because a couple days later I remembered the gunshot and asked my parents about it and it turns out my dad fired his gun by accident. He was cleaning it in the proper way where you have the gun pointed down and away from your body and it fired through the edge of the bed. So yeah, I totally DID hear a gun shot, and I totally did NOTHING about it. Because I’m a coward.
If you’ve ever been reading my blog and wondered “where did her obsession with violence come from?” Well I think I figured it out.
You know those Childrens Bibles that are always in the Doctors office? They’re like large and blue? Well, mine were. I don’t know what color your doctor office childrens Bibles were. When I would go to the doctor as a child, I would always flip straight to the Abraham and Issac story where Abraham follows the direction of God and takes Isaac up to Mt. Moriah to sacrifice him. The picture was of Isaac laying on the altar and Abraham standing over him holding a knife above his head. If you don’t know the story, don’t worry, God stopped Abraham before he killed him. It’s a good story, look it up.
So, apparently I was obsessed with death (threat of death) even as a child. Now I watch Law and Order episodes every day. I love to watch murder mystery shows. I expect danger everywhere. I see things out of place or hear strange noises and assume the worst. I saw a little hack saw in the wooded area while I was jogging yesterday and I looked around for a body. I try to come up with scenarios for what could have happened. So yeah, I’m basically out of my mind and have always been that way.
Don’t you hate it when you try to pants your husband but then it backfires because he sprays you in the face with his deodorant?
Oh, that’s never happened to you?
It happened to me today and let me tell you that was not nearly as painful as I thought it would be. My eyes watered a lot, and it didn’t taste good and maybe my lungs are on the verge of collapsing from inhaling deoderant. Basically, I laid out the story start to finish in the first sentence so I’m not really sure how to explain it. So this isn’t even really a whole post. It’s more like a long twitter post. And also an online record of me getting deodorant sprayed in my face in case I die of some really strange ailment and no one can figure it out. It was in an orange can. I’m not sure what it’s called because Chris won’t tell me and I’m too blind to go look at the can.
In case the previous paragraph or two wasn’t enough for you, I walked the dogs in a see through tank top today. Totally not on purpose. It wasn’t until we had passed
some people a family with children that I realized I could see through my shirt. So I asked Chris if he could see through my shirt and he quickly said yep.
Thanks. I’ve been outside in this tank top for like 2 hours WITH YOU, and you didn’t notice before now? Awesome.
If you’re one of the everybody who has self diagnosed ADD, then you will know exactly what I’m talking about. Here’s the scenario: You’re in the middle of doing something, get distracted by something and your focus changes, then halfway through your new project you get bored but now you’re in too deep so you just have to finish it and/or figure out a way to get someone else to do it for you.
NO? Just me? hmm..
Anyway, here are the 4 phases of ADD according to me:
1. Ohhh shiny
2. That would be way more fun than what I’m currently doing
3. This was a Terrible idea
4. Chris, I’m sore, will you finish this for me?
We have a walkway to the front door, and on the left side there is a tiny little area with a few sad looking rocks and dirt and a lot of weeds. Not weed. Sorry potheads, this is not the blog for you. They were regular ol’ annoying weeds. So I started pulling weeds. Halfway through the weed pulling, I discovered something that looked like a mushroom in the dirt. Not hallucinogenic mushrooms. THIS IS NOT A BLOG ABOUT DRUGS. STOP TRYING TO MAKE IT THAT WAY. So, I started to dig out the mushroom looking thing to see what it was because it looked like it was everywhere. Instead of mushrooms, I found rocks. Not cocaine rocks. Why do I even have to keep clarifying these things? I decided I would dig them up since I had been contemplating stealing the rocks in the neighbors entry way. I thought I would just find a few rocks, but there were like 100, so I decided to start digging back at the beginning where the weed pulling began.
Halfway through the rock digging I was bored again and didn’t want to dig up any more rocks. My hands were hurting, the was dirt under my nails, and I was pretty sure Chris was not going to be amused at my discovery and the now large mess that I probably wasn’t going to clean up, so I go inside to get a drink of water fully expecting a barage of questions, like what have you been doing outside for the last half hour? Were there that many weeds? Why are your hands covered in dirt? But I got no questions. Hardly even a look. Nothing. So I said “I found a lot of rocks” and walked back outside to put gloves on and continue The Great Rock Excavation of 2012. It’s a good thing I put on the gloves, because I almost imediately found an angry looking red centipede. I don’t trust anything with that many legs.
After digging up all the rocks (yes, this IS a really long story about how I dug up some rocks, I agree) I realized that I had also dug up a lot of dirt and it was all over the rocks and sidewalk. It’s ok, I’ll just hose off the rocks and hose the dirt back in the dirt area. HA. Bad idea. Turns out, when you hose off dirt, it just turns into brown water and goes wherever the heck it wants to. Which is all over my ankles. And then the dirt area turns into a brown river and you have to wait for it to dry before you can put the rocks back. THIS is really bad for my ADD because then I have to WAIT. Which most assuredly means I will get distracted by something else before the dirt dries and THAT is when I’ll tell Chris that I lost all feeling in my arms and can most definitely not put all those rocks back and since he’s outside mowing, it just makes sense that he just put them all back whenever he gets done.
Oh! I found a snake skin (because I did do the cleaning up, that part about me telling Chris to finish was a lie…my bad). It wasn’t that long, but that’s probably because the snake only shed half of his skin to make me think I don’t have anything to fear. I’m on to you snake.
I have a serious fear of breaking my own neck. I’m actually afraid to pop my neck. You know how some people pull their neck to the side and it pops so loud you start to dial 911? Yeah, I can’t do that. My husband pops his neck like that all the time and I’m just waiting for the day that he falls limp and I’ll have to tell my paralyzed husband “I told you so”. I banned him from doing it while driving, because that’s just putting both of our lives at risk.
In the shower a couple of days ago, I had a neck pain and I felt like I needed to pop my neck. So I tried, but I just couldn’t get it to pop because I felt like if I pulled any further I would paralyze myself. Then I started thinking what would happen if I did break my own neck? Chris would call 911 but then they would think he did it because I would probably be the first person in the history of ever to break her own neck with her own hands. That would be so awful knowing that Chris didn’t do it, but there I was dead or paralyzed or comatose or something that made me unable to tell the cops that I did this to myself. So, I just didn’t pop my neck. There was too much at risk.
Oh, one more irrational fear? I’m highly afraid that my nose will get shoved into my brain. I think Arnold Schwarzenegger did that once in a movie where he hit the guy with the heel of his hand in the nose and it shoved something into his brain and he died instantly. So, basically I try really hard not to get hit in the nose with stuff. Once Chris and I were goofing around and he accidentally hit my in the nose with his arm in sort of an upward motion and I freaked out and he was like what the heck is wrong with you, you would have to get hit really hard for a hit in the nose to kill you. People break their nose all the time. And I was like, no, it’s all about angles, Chris. You don’t know how much it would take to kill me through my nose. This is not a laughing matter. And then he was like ok crazy lady and then I was like LISTEN you’re the hulk, you could probably thump me in the nose and I would die, so just BE CAREFUL WITH ME.
Some of that was exaggerated, but I’m not really sure which parts because when your life is being threatened sometimes you forget things because you block out the trauma.
Actual conversation with my husband. Actually, it’s a mostly one sided conversation where Chris just gives me strange looks because I am irrational. Obviously.
Chris: I almost bought the movie Jaws
Me: We don’t need that movie
Chris: Why not?
Me: I’m already afraid of the ocean. I don’t need anymore help with that
Chris: What? You’re afraid of the ocean, but you want to go to the ocean for vacation in August?
Chris: So, you aren’t getting in the ocean?
Me: A little
Me: I’m more likely to get in the ocean than I am to get in a lake
Chris: (strange look)
Me: I’m afraid of the lake
Chris: (more strange look but now it looks like if maybe he’s wondering what he got himself into with this marriage)
Me: I’m afraid of fish. I’m afraid they’ll bite me. And those hidden underwater trees? Those freak me out.
Chris: Is that why you don’t like to eat catfish?
Me: No, it’s already dead and can’t stab or bite me. I just don’t like to eat fish.
Chris: (continued strange looks)
Me: Also, I believe that there are snakes in lakes
Chris: There ARE snakes in lakes
Me: SEE?? I’m not getting in the lake. I was tortured as a child. The only way I’ll get in the lake is if I’m thrown off the tube. Which is why I’m really good at tube wars. I can stay on for a crazy long time. But when I get thrown off I float on my back and/or kick my legs and move my arms as much as possible so I scare the bitey animals.
Me. It’s a survival skill.
Chris: Why are we talking about lakes? We don’t even have plans to go to the lake.
Me: Stop judging me.
I shouldn’t be left alone for an extended period of time. I’m bound to break things and injure myself. One time when I was left alone I stabbed myself in the hand. It was not good. It sounds worse than it is. There was hardly any blood but I still have a scar.
This time was no different. Except it didn’t include a knife. Chris has a lamp…had a lamp….that has been sitting on my dresser unplugged since we moved. Two nights ago, I decided to plug it in and use it since I’m afraid of the dark and he wasn’t home. Night #1, success. Light worked fine. Night #2…I decided to move the bed to vacuum under it (trying to do something awesome) and the lamp fell off the window sill. It broke into like 50 pieces. I seriously broke this lamp after using it for ONE day. ONE. I shouldn’t even be surprised. So, I cleaned it up, and texted Chris that I broke his lamp but that he can’t be mad because it’s just who I am, and he married me, so he’s stuck. His only reply “I’ve had that lamp for 6 years”. Whoa, my bad. I’ll glue it back together. He says just throw it away, but I thought it would be funny if I did glue it back together anyway. So, I’m almost done super gluing it back together, and of course my fingers are covered in super glue because who can use super glue without getting covered in it? Seriously, introduce me to that person. Anyway, it’s got like 3 pieces left to glue and in true Sara fashion, I cut my finger. A finger that had glue on it. Extra ouch! The same finger that once almost got chopped off by a ceiling fan. But since the piece that cut me had just had glue put on it, I did not want to waste my efforts, so before I took the bleeding to the sink, I made sure to get that piece back on the lamp. I start cleaning my finger, and then I start getting dizzy. Seriously, me? Light headed over this little bit of blood? What’s wrong with me? I still have to take a shower, so if I get in that hot water, I’m certainly gonna pass out. I really need supervision.
Here’s the proof:
Unless you’re living under a rock, you heard about the tornados that struck DFW.
I have been fortunate enough to never be directly affected by natural disasters. These storms have happened before, but I’ve never had anyone that I know be affected in a serious way.
I’m convinced that Mother Nature was looking for me this time. She apparently doesn’t realize that I’ve relocated a few hundred miles away.
First, I find out that a tornado was seen around Burleson. I used to live there. Then I hear that there’s one super close to my parents house and heading towards the in-laws house. This is the city where I grew up and just recently moved away from. Then I hear one is in Pantego…another place I lived for a couple years. 3 separate cities that aren’t THAT close to each other. THEN when it couldn’t find me in any of my previous residences, it went after my job near Dallas to see if I was there. What did I do to make Mother Nature so mad at me? I know, I am not a great recycler, but I don’t litter. In fact, I pick up litter when I see someone else thrown it out. I even saved a turtle from the side of the road the other day. He was laying there, on his back being all helpless and we pulled over and I put him right side up in the grass!
Hopefully, Mother Nature will stop looking for me and stop picking on all my friends and family, scaring them and making them hide in stairwells and hallways and bathtubs.
In complete seriousness, I’m so thankful that all of my friends and family are safe and unaffected by the terrible tornados that ripped through neighborhoods. It could have been so much worse. There were like a dozen tornados and one even tore through a school and but there are no deaths reported. Simply amazing.
P.S. I don’t ever know how to properly use affect/effect. So just ignore those if they’re incorrect.
I’ve suspected it for a while. I’ve jokingly called him by the name. But now I have proof.
I’m married to The Hulk.
I discovered this while doing the laundry. It was the first thing I pulled out of the basket. The Hulk was taking a nap, so I sat it aside to ask him about it when he woke up. When he woke up, I jokingly asked what triggers the transformation. I recorded the conversation, so rather than paraphrasing, I’ll give you the transcript:
Me: What exactly triggers your transformation to The Hulk (as I hold the shirt up so he can see it)
Me: because what is a ripped up shirt doing in the laundry…with HOLES in it?
Chris: I didn’t know (really…what kind of answer is that?)
Now he’s just avoiding the question…something the hulk would do when confronted. I’m sure.
At this moment, Chris acted like he was about to rip the shirt he was wearing
Me: are you going to rip another one? did I anger the Hulk with my questions? How exactly did this happen?
Chris: I put it on the other day, and it didn’t fit, it was just like…it didn’t fit…it was like stretched out.
Me: now it’s extra stretched out
Chris: It was never gonna get back to the normal form, so I just went ahead and ripped it because I was pissed about it
Me: So you did rip it like the Hulk? I really didn’t expect that answer, I really expected you to be like “oh no, it was something else, or whatever” and you actually just ripped your shirt off because you ARE the freaking hulk. So what angers the hulk? I didn’t realize it was wardrobe malfunctions that turned you into the hulk, and you’re wearing green right now which is pretty awesome.
I really wish I could upload the actual audio of this conversation. It’s so much funnier when you’re not reading it.