nous sommes tous hors de NORMAL

ive got nothing left in me. so this blog has come to an end. thank you faithful readers. much love

Posted in: on Monday, July 28, 2008 at at 12:44 PM 1 comments

Ok last night marked my maybe 12th giant spider dream in the past year. I see the spiders in this mid-deep dreaming sleep state. I'm alarmed as the spider is so close to me that I am woken up. but in this arousal of regaining conciousness, I open my eyes and still see this spider. Thus I am so scared by its proximity that I LITERALLY leap from the bed and rush to turn on all the lights. So last night, after just maybe two hours of falling asleep I was up and searching through my bed for this beast!

I have done all the dream dictionary hoopla and its mostly contradictory and stupid

from http://www.experiencefestival.com/: To dream of a spider, denotes that you will be careful and energetic in your labors, and fortune will be amassed to pleasing proportions.

from http://www.dreamdoctor.com/: Spiders frequently symbolize “creepy people” who would like to “trap us in their webs.” Is someone “bugging” you?

from http://www.soulfuture.com/: A spider may symbolize the number 8

http://www.dreamingminds.8m.com/: Spiders-Signify good luck.

and it goes on and on. Good luck, bad luck, creeps, 8 (8 what? 8 macaroni noodles that fall from my strainer in the sink), fortune, wishes coming true. I'm just sayin maybe all that is true but it doesnt stop them coming back to me in my dreams and freaking me out!

Especially when alone.

So if anyone has any ideas on why these spiders are so interested in my sleep then please indulge me. I'm so flippin sick of them honestly. Its time for them to leave. Or at least for my good fortune to arrive. :)

Posted in: on Friday, July 11, 2008 at at 1:29 AM 0 comments

will you
walk along the beach with me
far enough in the water that your clothes get wet
and not care at all
will you
lead me up an unknown path
get a secret thrill that you don't know where it goes
then veer off to another one
hold my hand tightly in excitement
will you
lay in bed with me at nite and read to me from whatever book you are reading
will you
force me to do things your way when you absolutely need to
will you
tell me anything you want and not be afraid
will you
let me think that i have superpowers
where are you
who are you
will you
need me as much as i need you

Posted in: on Thursday, July 10, 2008 at at 2:56 PM 0 comments

I GREW UP on the ocean. So what I cannot figure out is how I mistook seagulls for chickens last night while wandering through the streets of Porto. They talk differently here. There was no alcohol involved. I think I just imagined that live poultry would rule this town and chickens would hide in little streets with little guns like mafia chickens. THIS TOWN is a chicken hiding town.

The city is near perfect. and from the looks of it, the terrain here INCLUDES a town. But not the reverse. The mountains and the river simply refused to conform for the people so the people just made do with what they had. There are bridges nearly traversing through apartments and churches which wrap around the side of the mountain squeezing through little streets and right by living room windows. I have NO idea how they managed to build an underground metro station (and I'd be afraid to go in it). The portugese I've met tell me this area and most of Portugal suffers from earthquakes. Not exactly my favorite natural disaster. In fact, its at the bottom of the natural disaster favorites list. The VERY bottom. So I'll be damned if I step foot into that metro. Even cross the bridge by foot (which I did twice last night) I find less death defying. Cause I can swim but maybe not with 10 tons of iron falling on me.

where was i? oh. Well my coworker mentioned that in most of the little european towns he went to which had a seaside (or riverside) that the bars RIGHT on the seaside would be too touristy so for a touch of authenticity, he took us back a few streets off the main one in search of a "local" bar. We found at least three local bars but didnt dare enter as they were clearly too local. They seemed more like someones backyard and the family was outside playing and hanging out. We felt like we would crash a family outing or something. So we kept walking. Ultimately we ended up right back on that main drag at a bar called "Sandeman" for some porto. I recognized the label and the name immediately. Truth is, I liked the Porto from the hotel bar much better. We were all still anxious to see the town and so we walked. We walked and I took enough pictures to drain my battery down to one bar. I hope I have enough for the ocean which we will hopefully see on thursday.



At this one moment when we had reached a high point in the town (the place of the first photo) we all stopped and looked back at the river. No one said a word which I missed so much. Last week my cousin from the states remarked about this woman and her daughter, clearly tourists, on the Paris metro with her and neither of them spoke a word for about 7 metro stops. She couldnt believe that they had nothing to say to eachother for that long. I couldnt help but laugh and think it was because silence must make my cousin extremely uncomfortable. It made perfect sense to me that one could be in a foreign country and at times just need to not speak and simply listen or even drift off into your own thoughts. I think thats why they were nervous each time I was silent and always wondered what was wrong with me. But I felt again this comfort in silence when me and the french coworkers just stood there without words and enjoyed the view.

On a side note, there were about 20 minutes last week when my chatty cousin was reading a magazine and like a good junkie I was having withdrawl from her ramblings and asked her to immediately put down the magazine and commence with chatter! She was happy to feed my fix...

Once we reached the town center it was nearly midnight and the city had shut down. It was so quiet except for the chickens so we headed back.

Posted in: on Wednesday, July 9, 2008 at at 2:51 AM 0 comments

what'd ya think this is fun for me? all this sitting around Not blogging. you think i ENJOY all these thoughts piling up with no where to go. well its not fun and its especially not fun when your own two cousins point it out to me last night after dinner.

we went for argentinian steak. just steps from my apartment but we stepped right into food that should be served on death row. its seriously beyond good. but im seriously beyond stuffed. these cousins have been feeding me nonstop since they arrived.

they are quite loud actually, i dont want to say its cause their american but i think it is. so naturally the entire restaurant (and everyone walking by) heard our conversation which went from one cousins new bathing suit to me questioning why my other cousin is always so in need of guidance in every aspect of her life (even getting dressed). i dont think she trusts herself. but so this german fashion photographer comes up to us and starts talking to my cousin and i was listening and enjoying the conversation but i was also drifting into my own thoughts and believe me, my cousin needs NO support when it comes to conversation taking giving, the whole deal so there were times when i faced my plate and just listened. And drifted to my own thoughts and listened and there were even times when i spoke to him about how much i like photography but later

when we got home, BOTH my cousins nearly attacked me with sorries cause they "thought" by the look on my face and perhaps even my body language that i was MISERABLE while that guy came over to talk and they thought i was then even MAD at them. And i had NO CLUE
a. that they thought this
b. that they noticed me
c. that i looked so upset
d. that they thought i was MAD!

it was shocking on so many levels to even hear them say this to me. cause even though i WAS in my own thoughts at times, i was NEVER upset or mad. but apparently my face is completely disconnected from my thoughts. or maybe its not.
i dont get it. i cannot hide anything. there is no superficial me.
i dont even know HOW to be superficial. maybe i do, and maybe this is why i dislike sales people so much.

but i dont hate sales people as much as i hate recyclers. and not just ANY recyclers, i mean the ones who recycle in my courtyard and play this game of who can smash the hell out of the wine bottles before putting them in the recycling bin. Who can then dump the can out onto the ground just to prove that all the glass was smashed into bits, then who can sweep up the glass and throw it back in the can as loudly as possible. i have tried to explain to my cousins the many layers of hate that i have for these people and how i feel that i will never be able to truly enjoy recycling again as long as i live due to the bastard recyclers of my paris courtyard.


ah yes. so in conclusion. please dont read my face cause its probably wrong but i will give you my honest stream of thoughts if you ask me and if you dont want to talk then i'll just give you some xray vision and you can watch all the thoughts mingle in my brain and see which ones slide down to my heart. maybe they are even sliding for you.

Posted in: on Sunday, July 6, 2008 at at 3:46 AM 1 comments