Tip-Toe the Plank

I don’t miss you until I do.

So, I had a dream last night about someone who I used to be completely obsessed with. I hadn’t really thought about her in a long time and I wasn’t missing her at all. Until, after dreaming about her, I woke up to a message from her saying she was thinking about me. After about 7 months, she is finally starting the book I bought her for her 40th birthday. She said she’s in New York and blah blah blah and am I married? And am I at McDonalds still? And do I miss her? 

It’s an odd feeling. I don’t really MISS her. I don’t really have anything to say to her and she represents nothing to me, but… I guess I am still mesmerized by everything she has to say. I could just sit in silence and listen to her talk about how soft and green her dog’s shit was this morning. I had nearly forgotten all about her. 

I need to write something about her. I still don’t feel any better. Goddammit.

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Deleting the past, I guess.

I just had to unfollow all of the pages I joined Tumblr for in the first place. Like, Fuckyeahsaraquin and teganquinbanter and lesbianswholooklikejustinbieber. I just… can’t look at that shit on a daily basis anymore because then I start listening to Tegan and Sara and then I start missing people and then I start wishing my life had never changed a bit since 2009. I made my bed, I’m lying in it. I need to stop wishing I was still in the other one, ya know.

My boss was telling me yesterday how jealous she is of me because I chose such an amazing person to be the father of my child. I don’t regret anything, I just wish I could have everything.

I made the dogs a delicious breakfast of dog food mixed with cheese, eggs, turkey, Hebrew National hotdogs and milk. Man oh man. They won’t leave me alone now! 

In other news…

My dad got out of the hospital today. His liver biopsy was clean, thank goodness. Everything is going to be just fine, I think.

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Man, oh, man.

I am not being true to myself at all. 

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The weirdest dreams of all time.

1. THE BEST DREAM EVAH! Brandi Carlile.

So, I had a dream that I went to go see Brandi Carlile at a park concert with some friends and this little girl named Gracie. And, of course, it was amazing. For some reason, I didn’t know any song she sang but it was okay. During the concert, she was sitting on the ground and the had a towel lying to the right of her with several cell phones on it. Each phone was used for a different friend and they all kept ringing to tell her Happy Birthday. Well, I moved up front and when some guy called, I saw the number on the screen and hurriedly wrote it down. After the show, I noticed she had left a bag of rock climbing gear and a guitar tuner. I called the number to get Brandi but she answered anyways. I told her she forgot her stuff, and she obviously didnt know who I was but she didn’t care. I said “and you forgot your tuner…” but then it turned on and I realized it was a camera. “Wait, nevermind, this is a camera.” She told me to bring it to her! And then I had to go beg someone to get out of bed to drive me to her. I think it was my dad. And then we were on our way. That was the end of it.

WORST DREAM OF ALL TIME- MY BABY.

I dreamt that I went into labor. I can’t remember where I was but I remember I was somewhere creepy, but at the time I didn’t think it was creepy. Afterwards, I felt like I had my baby for two days. But, for some reason, everyone else always had the baby. After two days, I didn’t even know the gender. Finally, I got the baby and looked in the diaper. It was a boy. I told phillip and he looked at me like I was retarded. “Yeah, I know,” he said. Then, there was a piece of paper. I set it on the hospital bed and I was on my knees, filling it out. There were several lines titled Baby 1, Baby 2, Baby 3, Baby 4. The top had columns, name, weight, length… I put down Gabriel for the name. I realized I had no middle name for him but moved on. I didn’t know the details about him. What kind of mother am I? So, I realized that I didn’t even remember going into labor or giving birth. I started to flip out and cry and beg Phillip to tell me what had happened. Which was:

I had given birth to quads. One boy, 3 girls. All of the girls were tiny and they had died. The dr realized it was happening and drugged me. They were never going to tell me. I was so depressed and scared that I just shook and rocked back and forth and cried. Then, I came up with a name for each of the girls and I bought them tombstones which had letters I’d written to them engraved in them. Later, all of my friends, close and not-so-close were wondering how I had a child not spoken about it yet and the truth came out. One guy asked how it was possible when I wasn’t that big when I was pregnant. The rationalization was that the girls were tiny too. I woke up wondering how 3 babies could hide behind one in an ultrasound. 

I am still creeped out.

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