Friday, April 7, 2006, 02:51 PM - nightmares
I had a rather sad dream last night that ended badly. In this dream, I was not a human being at all, but instead I was a spirit sent to help a woman who was in an abusive relationship with her husband. Her husband was an emotionally cruel and manipulative man who also beat her on a regular basis.
The woman was a petite lady with pale blonde hair. She probably weighed 90-100 pounds. Her husband was about 6’2”, 250 pounds, black hair, and dark eyes. He kept her in place by humiliating her and convincing her that she was worthless and powerless. She had not been allowed to work, even though she was intelligent and had a college education. The man was some kind of blue-collar bozo who envied and feared her talents, which I suppose partially explained his motive for keeping her down and helpless. Their home was in a rural setting, so there were few nearby resources for help.
The odd thing about being a spirit was that I could read minds and sense motives. I could walk through walls, but I could not manipulate physical objects. I did have an additional power: I could absorb another’s pain.
And that, I believed, was what I was sent to do. I stepped into the same physical space that the woman occupied. I found that I could see out of her eyes and mine at the same time. Rather than accessing her thoughts directly, I connected with the part of her mind that stored the emotional overlays to her memories.
Hers was a deep hurt. Her husband was not the first man to deeply use and abuse her. Her sadness, shame, and misplaced guilt were as heavy as any chains. I absorbed the caustic energy of those emotions into my being. For a moment, I felt what she felt. It was sad and terrible. But the moment passed, and I disengaged from her mind. I think she sensed my presence, however.
My idea was that by absorbing her sadness and shame, she would gain the strength of will to leave her husband and start a new life for herself. What I did not expect to happen was that white-hot rage would fill the emotional void my assistance had created. She walked into the kitchen and grabbed a big knife. She then went onto the front porch, where her husband was sitting on a chair and drinking a beer, and plunged the knife into his chest with a force that I found incredible for a woman so slight of build. The man made one gurgling scream and reached for his wife’s throat. She panicked and ran away from the house without even looking ahead.
She ran down the driveway and into the street just as a large truck approached at high speed. She was struck and killed.
I had failed in my mission. Not only had the woman died, but she had become a murderer before she died. It was just dismal.
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( 3 / 1938 )Thursday, April 6, 2006, 08:32 AM - Dumb Happenings
Downtown Baltimore has got to be the RUDEST place on Earth to drive. Every morning when I drive to work, I feel like I’m playing a minor role in a new “Mad Max” movie. Today was no exception.
To start off, there is no “main road” into downtown Baltimore. They are all really narrow roads that date back to the horse-and-buggy era. You’re also not allowed to park on these streets ANYWHERE during rush hour -- but people do, all the time. Their modus operandi is “I’m just going to stop off here for a newspaper and a pack of cigs”. Meanwhile there is a line of cars 20 units long behind this rude bozo.
So this morning, I was trying to merge from i83 onto Saint Paul Street where, lo’ and behold, someone was parked illegally at the end of the merge lane. To avoid hitting this parked car, I had to make an emergency acceleration and yank my car to the left.
It did not help matters that this ultra-yuppie in a “historic” VW Beetle saw my predicament and actually SPED UP in attempt to prevent me from AVOIDING a car accident. Well, a Civic Hybrid beats almost every car in a 0-30 acceleration (thinks to the electric motor assist), so I avoided having a wreck.
This did not satisfy the ultra-yuppie, however. He honked his horn, sped up, and PURPOSEFULLY tried to sideswipe me. Then he got in front of me and slammed his brakes to the floor to try to trigger a rear end collision. (There was no chance of that. A hybrid has regenerative braking, which stops the car in 2/3 the normal distance.)
He did the attempted sideswipe / forced-collision manoeuvre two additional times over a one mile stretch. What he just didn’t get is this: in a wreck between a VW Beetle and a Civic Hybrid, the hybrid would crush the Beetle -- like a bug! The ultra-yuppie is lucky that I am a very skilled driver who knows how to make emergency defensive manoeuvres.
Finally, the ultra-yuppie turned off Saint Paul Street. But as he turned right, I thought: “Buddy, there are decaffeinated brands that taste just like the real thing!”
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( 2.8 / 1914 )Wednesday, April 5, 2006, 06:07 PM - Church Stuff
Tuesday evenings are always for because I have handbill choir practice at church. The bells at the church are really cool: Malmark brass, with five octaves (ranks 3-7). I usually ring the bass bells (octaves 3 and 4). These are REALLY big bells. The biggest, C3, actually takes two hands to ring.
Since we have Palm Sunday and Easter on the next two Sundays, we've been doing a lot of practicing. I have one assignment that involves six bells!
A guess we'll find out soon if the practice sessions will come to fruition!
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( 3 / 1804 )Monday, April 3, 2006, 08:02 PM - Stupid Criminals
I have to say that I ran into one of the most worthless ghetto thug I have ever encountered. He was 46, but he looked more like 66. He was booked on felony drug conspiracy/distribution charges. Some liberal judge gave him Pretrial Supervision rather than having him rot in jail until his trial.
He was unemployed, of course, but I then found out that he had NEVER worked -ever! He was a lifelong welfare recipient. He was on parole AND probation at the sane time, for drugs of course! He was a high school dropout. And yet, the judge still gave him PTRS. Every parole and probation he had been assigned in the past resulted in an unsatisfactory closing (he broke the rules a lot). But he was released from jail. Yay! (Not!)
Now he was also a big-time drug addict. But, according to HIS philosophy, he was not an addict because he did DIFFERENT drugs every day. See, on odd days, he would smoke Crack; while on even days, he would shoot Heroin. But he didn't think he had a drug problem.
His family life left something to be desired. He had managed to father EIGHT illegitimate children, and had never paid a penny in child support. He was, however, sponging off his uncle for free room and board.
He had obviously lived a violent lifestyle. He had a long ragged scar across one cheek, and another across his throat. there was a ropey scar on his left hand where he had been shot. He reported a similar gunshot scar on his leg.
I thought to myself: What a useless piece of human garbage! All he knew how to do was deal, steal, and screw.
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( 3 / 1813 )Monday, April 3, 2006, 07:29 PM - Cool Stuff
Just a quick update: my partner, Doug, is now up to a total of 17 pounds lost on the Jenny Craig diet -- in just six weeks! Yay![ add comment ] | [ 0 trackbacks ] | permalink |
( 2.9 / 1396 )Sunday, April 2, 2006, 09:57 PM - Random Thoughts
I downloaded my ten "free" music files from RealPlayer. I got a couple Peter Gabriel songs, a few Pink Floyds, and some ABBA. Thistle likes "In Your Eyes" and "Solsbury Hill". The Pink Floyd is more of Ashen's taste, and ABBA is all me!
I ditched my iPod on eBay because it synchronizes so poorly with Real Player. But my PDA connects just fine and has a better user interface. I never did understand the big hoopla about the ipod. they're ugly, expensive, and too proprietary. So now I just plug a 1.0 Gb chip full of music into my PDA. No fuss, no muss.
I never cease to find it fascinating how much Thistle likes certain kinds of music. He is a higher being. Unlike me, Thistle's spirit knows peace and joy. I wish I could shine like he does.
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( 2.9 / 1561 )Saturday, April 1, 2006, 10:51 AM - Odd Dreams
So... I had this odd dream that I was a corporate spy who was given the task of breaking into another company's headquarters so that I could steal their financial documents. I guess the theft was going to manipulate the share prices.
Things got a little weird when I broke into the basement level through a secret tunnel. The basement was actually some sort of garishly decorated decorated apartment. No one was home, but the couch and living room recliner were bright red and shaggy. Colored strings of beads hung all over the walls. The dim lighting was bluish and I couldn't tell where it was coming from.
I left the odd apartment and the next room was some kind of interrogation booth. Three corporate goons were giving the Third Degree to some poor schlep who apparently had autism. Needless to say, the guy gave the same answer, regardless of the question asked. I got the feeling that autistic fellow didn't Care how long he was there, and probably didn't know anything that the corporates wanted to know.
I took the elevator to the top floor.I could overlook alarge auditorium in which some overpaid corporate mouthpiece was trying to convince the staff that cutting wages and outsourcing a third of the staff in NO WAY indicated that the company was in trouble was in trouble. Yeah, right.
At the top level, the files I sought were located in a nondescript brown leather brief case that had been stashed in a janitor's closet. So much for corporate security! The dream ended there, but I have to assume I would have made it out.
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( 3 / 1990 )Friday, March 31, 2006, 08:38 AM - Random Thoughts
Back when I was in college, I weighed a lean, mean 165 pounds and had a trim 31" waist. Now that I'm middle-aged, I weigh 205 and have a 38" waist. Ugh! But I decided to *do* something about it. I joined a gym.
I've been working out three times per week at the gym (2.25 miles on treadmill and some weight lifting) and I also do a 2-mile brisk walk around the neighborhood 1-2 times per week. I cut out all junk food, and I've been limiting my calories to about 1900 per day. I've been doing this for three months straight.
I don't understand why I haven't lost any weight. Now, I *have* reaped other benefits: my physical endurance has increased a lot (I used to jog at 4 MPH, and now I can do 5.5 MPH), I sleep better at night, and I don't feel fatigued during the day. I don't crave unhealthy foods anymore. My resting pulse rate is 64, down from 76. I've been able to cut my coffee consumption in half. And my clinical depression has definitely been kept in check. Finally, those cluster headaches I get every other year that lasts 30-45 days only lasted 6 days this time around. So this is quite an accomplishment.
I just don't understand why I can't get any *slimmer* when it's pretty obvious that my health is improving in so many other ways. I wonder what I'm doing wrong? It's not the end of the world, but it is somewhat frustrating.
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( 3 / 1514 )Wednesday, March 29, 2006, 07:12 PM - Stupid Criminals
Yes, indeed! I've had some real "model citizens" at work lately. But there is a *special* class of crook that I call "Buck Rogers" criminals. Why? Because they have so many charges listed against them that they would have to live to be 500 years old to serve out their sentences!
Here are my favorite "Buck Rogers" losers.
--:: A 21-year-old punk who decided to mug some guy who *used* to be his friend years ago (but had fallen out over the years). Thg victim had a whopping $5 in his wallet and no credit cards. So the felon stabbed his ex-friend in the neck with a switchblade. Amazingly, the victim survived (w/40 stitches in his neck!) Estimated maximum penalty for all six charges related to this incident: 76 years.
--:: An idiot 16-year-old decided to rob the pizza man at gunpoint -- right as the pizza man made the delivery to the house! The teen also stole the delivery man's car and cash bag ($42.00!) He also left the front door to his house open as he sped away in the stolen car. The pizza man walked into the house and called the cops (and probably ate the pizza,
too!) Total penalty: 165 years.
At least in law enforcement, the customer is always WRONG!
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( 3 / 1396 )Monday, March 27, 2006, 05:17 PM - Random Thoughts
About every two years I seem to get treated to six weeks of excruciating pain in the form of cluster headaches. Personally, I think calling this affliction a “headache” is about as much of an understatement as calling a high speed head-on car accident a “bump”. The clever nickname for cluster headaches is “suicide headaches” because the pain is so intense that it really does drive people to suicide.
For me, a cluster headache always starts the same way. It feels like there is a small knot of tissue at the very top of my nasal cavity that seems to get inflamed and then starts hurting. It sends a spike of pain into my right eye and into the teeth on the right side of my head. Then the pain spreads to my cheek and temple, then finally to the back of my neck. It takes about ten minutes to go from “no pain” to “world of hurt”.
To understand how bad the pain is, consider this: as much as a migraine hurts more than an ordinary headache, a cluster headache hurts more than a migraine by the same order of magnitude. And the headache lasts 12-18 hours at time and cycles for 4-6 weeks.
There’s only one medicine, Imatrex, that helps. It’s not a perfect pain reliever (but it makes it tolerable) and it’s both dangerous and expensive ($21/tablet).
The curious thing this time around is that my head is hurting in all the same places as a cluster headache hurts, but the pain is a lot less intense this time. On the one hand, I’m glad that it’s not giving me agony. On the other hand, I wonder what’s changed.
Maybe it won’t be so bad this time.
The last time, it was so bad that it would just make me curl into a ball and scream into a pillow.
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