:: Searching for Puck... ::

:: Wednesday, November 05, 2003 ::

Foxfyre33: Hey, you were in my dream last night.
Foxfyre33: First time, I think.
AtamaRav: what about the car dream?
Foxfyre33: oh yeah.
Foxfyre33: But this one was much clearer.
Foxfyre33: We were in a city, I guess. There weren't a lot of features.
AtamaRav: mmmhmm
Foxfyre33: You and I were walking and we had a *lot* of bags/packages, etc.
Foxfyre33: We sat down, kinda looked like homeless people.
Foxfyre33: there was a row of houses that were all nice and big and pretty.
Foxfyre33: Like, the kind you'd see in howell or holmdel.
Foxfyre33: So, naturally, I decide I want to break into one.
Foxfyre33: I leave you with the packages and stand in the side yard and suddenly find myself in the house.
AtamaRav: hah
Foxfyre33: The girl's room is like, a square, but there's a smaller square in the middle that seems to be the actual room...it's more like the size of a kiosk.
Foxfyre33: Hanging on dowels on the front (the whole inner cube didn't have walls, more like partitions of stuff hanging) were a crapload of necklaces.
Foxfyre33: It becomes pretty clear the girl is a hippie/pagan from the necklaces.
Foxfyre33: I took a baphomet necklace on a big ball-chain from the second dowel down on the right.
Foxfyre33: Then I decided against it, and took a simple mother-of-pearl shell-half on a brown leather cord from the second dowel on the left.
Foxfyre33: I see something with the name "Diana", and I'm like, okay, the girl's name is Diana. I can use that info.
Foxfyre33: I hear noises and I think the people came home, so, of course, I stuck my head out the door and said "Hello?"
AtamaRav: naturally!
Foxfyre33: They see mee, seem pretty surprised, so I go, "Diana?"
Foxfyre33: And *she* looks confused, but I say I was looking for my friend Diana Mazur and thought that this was her house.
Foxfyre33: After that, they just kind of accept me and we're sitting in their living room looking at digital pics on the tv..
AtamaRav: hah!
Foxfyre33: I see one of her on her stomach, studying a book in a room with cream carpet and an expensive wicker chair, and I go "Are those apartments near Johns Hopkins in Baltimore?
Foxfyre33: She seemed surprised and said yes, and I go to myself, okay, here's my in....but I blow it by explaining that I just happened to live there for awhile, and still didn't know her personally.
Foxfyre33: So, they're getting ready for a movie premier uptown, she's getting into a corset because her father wants her to distract the business men, and I walk out.
Foxfyre33: I end up in this prison-like boarding school across the street, and all I remember is 'breaking out' of it and into their house again.
Foxfyre33: A black guy with no right leg answered the door and let me in.
Foxfyre33: At this point I look at my watch and I've only been gone from you for about an hour and a half.
Foxfyre33: I run back to check in with you, then go back to the house.
Foxfyre33: And I think that's it.
AtamaRav: wow...thats pretty wacked out
Foxfyre33: I mean, baphomet?
Foxfyre33: Why the hell would he appear in my dream?
AtamaRav: i've no idea! One legged black dudes? "Diana?"
Foxfyre33: Oh! And her name was actually Elizabeth.

Baphomet is a symbol of some of the darker religions...he is a goat-god. I don't know enough about him to make any conclusions, but I *did* put him back and choose the shell, so I suppose that counts for something.

Yesterday was one of those really really bad days....I had to take delivery to a place I'd never gone before somewhere in Holmdel really far away, so of course I got lost. Orders end up an hour and a half, two hours late, women call up screaming at me that I made pregnant women go hungry and someone with low blood pressure had to go home sick, and I ended up crying and miserable. It was just an awful day at work and now Glen's pissed at me, probably, even though it was his fault for not scheduling any drivers. I'm a countergirl that shouldn't even be driving, because I'm missing a front license plate and I'm not inspected...but if I don't deliver, we lose customers, the store loses money, and sooner or later I'm out a job. Unfortunately, I can't stand by and make it someone else's problem.

I went to a focus group yesterday at IFF, made forty bucks for about an hour's work. We talked about flavored alcoholic drinks, most of which were kinda lame. "Zodiac" - vodka-y drinks with only 10% abv and fruit juice (might try this one), "Just chillin' Alcoholic Smoothies" (Alcoholic smoothies? Come on) , "Metro Potion" (which mixes chardonnay, vodka and fruit juice - blegh) and "Isle Scotch Singles" - scotch with flavors like plum and pear (?) .

I made dinner last night...one of those nice skillet sensations things with some pierogies. I had eaten nothing but a slice of pizza after breakfast, so I was running on more then 8 hours without food, and very crabby from my day. I was making the pierogies and Joe takes out a take-out container of bacon fat, meaning to put it on the pierogies once I drained them. I balked, because mom always kind of steered me away from that sort of thing, and I said he could put some on his, but not the pot cause then I'd have to eat it and I didn't have the stomach for it. His dad fucking flipped and said that I was insulting his heritage and his grandmother was rolling in her grave and so on and so forth. Now, these were a big bag of sam's club frozen pierogies, not handmade. I was fucking tired as hell and my blood sugar was bottoming out and it took every ounce of self-restraint in me not to snap at my boyfriend's father that he wasn't the only god damned polack in the room, and if he ever even bothered to ask, he'd know that I had polish grandparents too. However, I held my tongue and let it slide. Joey started teasing me about the bacon fat, but good naturedly and I didn't mind, so I tapped the water off the plastic stirring spoon and tapped him lightly on the back of the head like an italian grandmother. His dad FLIPPED and started screaming something about being a 50 year old man and no one plays with food and hair in his kitchen and I don't even know what else. Again, this is a ridiculously informal dinner at a folds-from-the-wall ship's table in Joey's kitchen. Joe's dad said it was like him calling the board of health on Luigi's and then going over and sticking a huge hunk of his hair in the spaghetti sauce. HOW the FUCK this relates, I have NO idea. I ended up washing the dishes after I ate and curling up in Joe's bed, where I proceeded to cry on him and he apologized for his dad.

We went to bed early last night, which was good, because after a day like that I don't think I really wanted to wake up. Hopefully today will be better. Joey's taking me to see the Matrix!

~Fox
:: Fox 11/05/2003 08:37:00 AM [Say what?] ::
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