Dreams…

So I had another really lucid kind of crazy one. I dreamt I was away at some hotel. It look cavernous like the Grand Opry… but like the other side of the building where they were still building when I went down there in 99. And I’m wandering about the halls with my baby. Or I think it was him. His presence was felt. And there was an air of deception going on. Something was being done and I was being lied to about it. At one point there was chatter of some kind of drug being used… it was liquid something… pending on how you injected it, it gave a different response. It could be like crack… heroine or cocaine. (why me of all people is dreaming about this is WAY beyond me). Anyways. We come upon this room … and something isn’t right about the room. So I fling open the suite doors and there is a SEA of men. Mostly my baby’s frat bros (strangely, all the ones I don’t like or don’t trust)… standing around in this room… like a conference just broke out and they were discussing the goings on from the meeting. But simultaneously shooting up this drug from analagous looking syringes… clear and blue with an unusually short needle. But they all had one in hand. Every single one of them. And for some strange reason I remember feeling betrayed and upset.

VERY strange dream. I woke up feeling uncomfortable and disappointed. But I can’t for the life of me figure any of it out. I guess I shouldn’t try. Maybe it’ll come to me tomorrow.

My aunt is here from out of town. And she’s wreaking havoc on me. I’m just trying to take it in stride.

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White Rose

God always seems to send a child to comfort me. And that most of all is comforting.

I was fresh off the boat from having done my job at the CD smooth cruise when I was sitting there with Shar. Maybe the liquor was getting to us and we decided that wallowing in our own self pity was the next event on the schedule for the night. So as we’re sitting there trying to verbally outdo each other about how much worse her life is than mine and mine than hers, a little boy with a head full of curly locks (he couldn’t have been more than 3 yrs old) starts to play a little game with me… where he tries to get as close as he can before I notice him and “catch” him trying to sneak over to me. And I would catch him a little closer every time with my eyes and smile. Maybe even motion a tiny “peek a boo” style look on my face and he would run away squealing with laughter. No sooner did he run than did I return to my wallowing. The first time he came by, Shar said “at least you have the prospects of maybe having one of those one day.” And I said to her, knowing that she didn’t know yet, “Not if I want it to be healthy.” And thusly the questioning ensued that demanded me to explain the whole A Negative blood type deal. And then she said “well… you can always adopt.” (because she just HAD to make it sound like my life wasn’t so bad…which in hindsight it wasn’t). A little while and about 5 or 6 Peek aboos later, my phone rang and it was my baby telling me he was posted outside. As I got up and secured my bag on my back… my little boyfriend runs up to me, holding something for me.

A single white rose. Prepared as a boutonniere. And he was so joyful in giving it to me. And he stared at me as I admired it. And I thanked him… snuck over to his parents and made sure that he wasn’t giving me something that was theirs (he wasn’t) and I left… sniffing it the whole way.

Now, logically, he could have picked it up off the floor or even off of a stranger or whatever… and it’s just a piece of trash that he thought would be nice to give to me. But I have to read into everything. And I’m sure that God sent him. At the right time With a flower that signifies “I am worthy of you” or purity… to say… “stop worrying about it. When the time comes you WILL bear a beautiful, healthy life. That is worthy of you.” And I felt so much better. My life certainly isn’t that bad. I make it out to be worse than it is. And now my little rose has given me a whole load of hope.

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FIERCE!!

That’s how I’m feeling today! I AM A SEXY BEAST!!!! HEAR ME ROAR!! (and if you’re lucky… maybe even purrrrr)hahahaha!! I woke up knowing that what I put out there is what I get back. And I HATE getting the look like “is that a boy or a girl?” So I will ONLY from now on get the “DAMN BABY” response… because that is what I like! And that’s what I’ve been getting all day. “HEYY wow Victoria” and in my mind I’m like… “that’s right… drool… it’s better than you could ever imagine!!!!” LMAO! I do feel good. And for once in a long while… I LOOK it.

And I know it.

Date night was last night. My baby got tickets for us to see Raisin in The Sun. And now I know first hand that Soror Phyllicia Rashad EARNED that damned Tony. SHE WAS AMAZING! She was representing for that entire older generation. The ones born in the early 1900′s who are now quickly passing. But at the time the book was written and screenplayed… had a good 30 more years left in them. Damn. She was so believeable. Amazing actress. Brava!

And it was super sweet of my angel to think of taking me there, knowing he’s not really into theater really. But how can I expect him to NOT be thoughtful. He’s always been. And I went to bed floating on clouds thanks to him. So good…

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I was thinking of a poem on my way in today… I hope I get it right (damned Muse never waits for me to have a pen)

They planted a rose

Where you lied to me last

And I was glancing there

cursing the ground that you laced

with falseness like

rocks in cement

and hating myself for having believed.

But the rose peered up

wrapped around the window’s fence

And I realized

it too was the fruit of treacherousness

plastic and wire

and cut at the stem.

6/22/04 9:46 AM

Movies…

This past weekend was spent watching many a movie. One I didn’t mention (as I run extremely late for work) is Bowling for Columbine. I was fortunate to find the most riveting and significant part (to me) to share with my blog (and anyone looking on). Click this link to view it in Windows Media format. Enjoy a history lesson about fear in America and I’ll Blog more later

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