But if I told you, then it wouldn't be a secret. So here's a star bullet point update, instead.

★ I keep having the same actor's nightmare over and over and over. Five times in the last three weeks, I've dreamt the same non-existent scene in the play. It has the same words, and the same actors (that I know, and that are not in my current production), and despite having dreamt this that many times, I'm still always wholly unprepared for it. This morning in the dream, the director told me to watch the movie that the scene was in to be better prepared. I wanted to cry. Stupid subconscious.

★ We're having a billion people for Thanksgiving. Or 32. Either way, I'm having to self-soothe... It'll be okay, it'll be okay, it'll be okay... on a loop. It's not the food, it's just having that many people in the house and making sure they're comfortable, etc. I was talking to a friend and fellow actress on the phone yesterday, bemoaning the state of rehearsals the telling her that I'm a control freak and that I kind of want to hide in the closet with a bottle of Crown, and she gave me some pretty sage advice:

Friend: You need to imagine one of those old time-y radios, you know? The ones with the knobs? And you need to envision one of those knobs being your 'give a sh*#' dial. And you close your eyes, take a deep breath and mentally turn that 'give a sh*#' knob way down. Or off.

Me: That's brilliant. Though, to be perfectly honest, I'm going to have to find that button before I can turn it down.

Friend: I'm not gonna lie. It might be in the closet with the Crown.

Love her. She makes me laugh.

★ Spent the better part of Friday refashioning a kind of crappy $40 JC Penney's dress into something sort of wonderful for The 39 Steps. And it only took 6 hours. :P

★ I spent over an hour this morning looking for a book my middle-schooler needed today, and we STILL didn't find it. Tell me this happens to other people, too, so that I don't sell the child into white slavery?

★ Pumpkins are still gross, and are still the devil. It's a fact. Look it up.

★ Due to the fact that I use my children to run lines, they now know how to swear in German. Mother of the year, folks. Right here. Please don't call CPS.

Supernatural spoiler? )

★ I really, really love Monday mornings, where the only noise in the house is Abbey the Lab snoring up a storm. Hope your Monday morning is as relaxing as mine. Happy Thanksgiving week! Or just Happy Monday, for those kajillion people of you out there not celebrating the American Holiday. :)
So. I've been having the weirdest, most vivid dreams that I've had in the entirety of my life.

Usually, my most bizarre dreams are helped along by medicine of some sort. Or fevers, even. I still remember a dream in which I was chased by a vampire when I was about ten. Of course, I had the flu, then.

Now, however, I'm fever and even medicine-free; I haven't put a pill in my mouth in over a week. From someone who was downing six or seven at bedtime for the last two years, it's a strange feeling. Yet, the dreams persist. And they're exhausting dreams, not the happy, fluffy ones that I would prefer.

I had a dream where a photographer friend of mine and I were like a two woman Charlie's Angels, with feathered hair, guns and a give 'em hell attitude. We kicked butt all over the place! We may have even kicked butt that didn't deserve it, in the interest of just being thorough. I had a dream where we were using a contractor to fix up our house (but it wasn't OUR house, it was the house I grew up in at 214 E. Vilbig Street, which no doubt DOES need some work). The contractor was an idiot and brought me a stuffed animal instead of a carpet swatch - I remember looking at him and saying, "This isn't going to fly with my husband. You're going to have to do better than that."

I had a dream where I cleaned my kids' rooms and went through all of their clothes, separating out the ones that didn't fit. It was so realistic that I was exhausted afterward when I awoke and that particular chore wasn't done.

But I did it already! I DID!

I've also had far-fetched, kooky dreams about the cast of Supernatural (I cooked for them, sigh), one about Catherine Zeta-Jones (she was nice), and one about having another baby (God forbid).

My subconscious is making me exhausted! It's to the point that I don't want to go to sleep because I work harder then than I do when I'm awake!

Huh. Maybe I should work harder when I'm awake so that I don't have weird dreams when I'm asleep. Maybe I'll even go for a run. (Talk about far-fetched.)

anyway, I think it's worth a shot.
Hello, August 4th. You totally snuck up on me.

It's been a heckuva week, rife with emotional hangovers, nightmares about tank-escaping Crawdads, (Ethan: But we could get him a Crawmom! And they could have Crawkids!) hours of poolside reading and spa days. We're trying to cram all the summer we can into these last few weeks before school starts.

The winners from July's recipe contest [livejournal.com profile] maureen with a kickin' chili recipe, and [livejournal.com profile] filia_umbrae, who won even though she submitted something with a gourd as one of the ingredients. :D I'm totally making all of the submissions, even the pumpkin muffins, which were described as "scarfable." We shall see! Look for your prizes in the mail before the 15th, girls. That's my goal. ;) Congrats to you both!

August's contest!

You know I'm all about a haiku. Haikus make me irrationally happy, and I feel a little fancy reading and writing them. I'm going to confess that I also love a good Limerick, because, you know, I love to laugh. And so this month your challenge, should you choose to accept it, is to write as many haikus and limericks as your heart desires IN A REPLY TO THIS POST, before I drag myself out of bed on September first. The winners will receive a $25 gift certificate to Barnes and Noble, and one of my handmade bags (new design!).

If you're unsure how to write either of these poems, just click on the links above. It's easy! And fun! And free! You can do it!

Now I'm off to register Ethan for Middle School. And get some Botox on the way because that makes me feel SO OLD.
persephone33: (We're actors)
( Jun. 15th, 2010 09:16 am)
I've been having actor's nightmares a LOT lately, but last night's took the cake.

I was in a show with all women, strong actresses, all, and none of us seemed to have a firm grasp on the lines; what order they were coming in, what they were, or anything else having to do with the words coming out of our mouths. There was no blocking to speak of, I wasn't wearing stage makeup, so at one point, I was trying to do that onstage, in and around trying to remember my lines. Other actresses got injured onstage and at one point i had to help carry one of them to center. I actually got bored at one point and broke character to ask another actress on stage a question, and people in the audience answered; evidently the theatre had great acoustics, or I wasn't whispering like I thought I was. The worst part? The audience left and the house lights came on BEFORE WE FINISHED THE PLAY.


I wonder what all that means? I'm not even auditioning for anything right now.
And the saga continues.

Now [livejournal.com profile] nolankyle has what I'm affectionately calling (so I don't scream and curse) 'the illness of '10.' It's what I've been dreading, actually; Nolan is the worst sick person, ever. Most men are, though, as memory serves.

However, this is not a post to bitch about being sick, aching joints and residual crankiness, about losing sleep with fever and chills. (Okay, maybe it is. Last time, though, promise.) This is about the fever induced DREAMS you have when you're in the thick of it. Holy cow, did I have some doozies.

The first and most recurring is that I was student teaching in the fourth grade, and later on, got a class of my own. If you know me at all, you know the sort of nightmarish situation that would be for me. A roomful of kids Ethan's age, all thinking they're smarter than me and spreading their germs around, to boot. Ironic that my subconscious worked that in as I slept.

I also had a dream where I was a roadie for Bon Jovi. Fun with Nightmares! )

So, yeah. I look forward to my tolerance to all bugs being built up, and dreaming happy, or at least benign dreams for the next few months.

You think life is going along just fine.
Then you download the 100th Bones Episode, watch it, and the cycle of despair is started. You think Temperance Brennan is a FOOL.

You go and teach your class on Thursday afternoon, just like you always do. You meet your family at 575 Pizza and your nine year-old won't eat.

He won't eat? you ask yourself. The kid would gnaw on anything for a snack.

You split from your family, while they go home, you go to see a play about a boy who blinds six horses and is in therapy because of it. You are disturbed by this play. It causes you to feel a lot more than you normally do.

You shouldn't read this if you've a weak stomach, or stories of children and grossness bothers you in any way. )

You can't help but think this is all Temperance Brennan's fault. If she'd done what any NORMAL woman would have done, and thrown Agent Booth down right there in front of the J. Edgar Hoover building and had her wicked way with him, all of this could have been avoided.

I had a dream that I was back IN HIGH SCHOOL.

Kill me now, right?

I even had the good sense to dream old NHS as the high school I remember before I worked there, before all the bond elections and renovations.  Long story short? I woke up six times last night, and SLIPPED BACK INTO THE DREAM EVERY SINGLE TIME. Why, oh, why couldn't that ever happen when I'm having lovely dreams about David Boreanaz giving me a foot rub? (Not that I've ever had that dream, but a girl can hope.)

I said short, but here's the long version. I was taking classes that I had NO business being in: Statistics? (I barely passed that in college.) Intro to theatre(?!), Creative Writing (not such a stretch), Anatomy and Physiology, GERMAN (Helloooooo? Never took German. What I know of German I learned from my ex-stepfather and Hogan's Heroes and it consists mainly of expletives and exclamations) and... Agricultural Sciences.

I don't even know how to categorize that last one.

Anyhow, Nolan, Ethan and Aaron were my siblings (please don't 'dream interpret' this for me, I don't have the heart to hear what it means), Mom was out of town and we were all home from school. Aaron got sent home sick, Ethan skipped and Nolan was in college. I was truant as well. I decided not to go because I hadn't finished my homework.

This NEVER happened in high school in real life. In the dream, I was also having issues ducking the truancy officer. Reality? Unless I was DYING, and I mean coughing up a lung or bleeding OUT, I was in school. Always.

So there was my guilt about that.  Also, I hadn't attended an Anatomy and Physiology class more than once the entire semester, and I was worried how I was going to make up the labs... Of dissecting cats, no less. (Fun fact: I actually did that. Brenda Whaley was my lab partner and we named our specimen Fluffy, for obvious reasons.) So I sat at the kitchen table at 214 E. Vilbig and did HOMEWORK all day, even giving Nolan an impromptu lesson on Commedia Dell'arte, which I hadn't thought about since taking one of Dennis Maher (my favorite college professor)'s  "History of" classes.

I've never been more thankful that all I have to do today is sew bags for the Haiti mission trip, cook dinner and go to rehearsal.   I also walked out to the garage to take my kids to school and found that someone had washed and vacuumed my car.  My husband must love me.  Man, my life is better than ANY dream.  Even one in which Special Agent Seeley Booth might give me a foot rub. ;)
persephone33: (coffee)
( Dec. 5th, 2009 08:05 am)
*makes face*

It probably won't be interesting to anyone but me, and possibly [livejournal.com profile] tadpole_bac , but I had to write it down.

Click for the weird jaunt into my subconscious... )

Yeah, wow. There was more. But now it's gone fuzzy. Grah. Normal dreams that didn't wake me up in a panic might be appreciated, dream self. Okay? Thanks.
Yes, I realize it hasn't been that long since I posted for yesterday, but I'm disturbed. Veeeeerrrry disturbed.

I dreamed that I was dating Michael Jackson.


I'll just sit over here and let that sink in for a bit.

Hey, subconscious? Next time you send me a dead icon to make out with, could it maybe be Cary Grant, please? Thanks. )

I have a new favorite pair of jeans. Who here loathes jeans shopping, raise your hand? I tend to find a pair I like and wear them until they fall apart. So when I found The Boyfriend Jean at Ann Taylor Loft, I thought I'd died and gone to heaven. I went to their website today to order another pair, and guess what? SOLD OUT. They say they may still have them in the stores, not that it does me any good because there isn't an Ann Taylor Loft in Amarillo. *bats eyelashes at my mother who lives in Arlington* Flipping figures, right?

Also, my left hand is gimpy. I don't know if it's from all the typing, or what, but it aches something fierce. Send good thoughts, please.

Last thing... the howling at the beginning of Thriller freaks Katie out. Join the club, sister. I remember being in Melissa Lovell's living room, listening to that record for the first time (I think we were in the fourth grade) and almost peeing my pants when Vincent Price started cackling at the end. I know I screamed. I was a dork even back then. ;)
But that's beside the point, and not what this post is about, at all.

I finished Eat Pray Love, at the recommendation of my mother.  It's a deep book about a woman's journey to find herself as she travels through Italy, India and Indonesia.  I bought it for airplane reading, and it AIN'T airplane or poolside reading.  I think I'm going to have to read some parts again to fully comprehend.  I think it's the kind of book you could get into, [livejournal.com profile] maureen .  I'll send it to you, if you like. :)

And I had a vivid dream (nightmare?) about my high school/college boyfriend last night.  WEIRD.  Very weird.  I've lost touch with him and I hope he's well.  Darn my subconsious!  Why can't I have normal dreams?  Or at least benign ones?

For those of you not in the know, the 'actor's nightmare' is when you dream that you're on stage, opening night, in costume before a packed house, and you don't remember attending a rehearsal for the play which you find yourself performing.  In mine, I was on stage with Mark Jones (my co-star in the last show I did) and a bunch of kids (who were no help at all, let me tell you), and Mark and I didn't know the lines, I didn't know what scene we were in, or any of the songs, and the stage manager finally had to come hand me a script so I'd know what to say.  To make matters worse, some of the scenes were around a dinner table, so I was having to EAT and ACT and not know what my line was.

I woke up with heartburn.

I had costume change problems, wardrobe malfunctions, lost my voice, and when I actually did get a look at the script, I HAD NEVER EVEN READ THE PLAY.  The director looked at me with a disappointed expression and said, "I expected more from you, Carrie."

It was an awful, awful, AWFUL dream.

Dear heavens above, I'm glad I'm awake.  Oh, well.  Off to the beach for my last day of vacation!
This morning I awoke from a vivid dream where I was attending a charity fundraiser wherein I ran into cute and darling celeb, Reese Witherspoon. Being super smooth, I told her she looked fabulous (She did; white dress, tan skin, perfect, shiny blonde hair: in other words - Reese) and was prepared to walk away when I saw she was really upset. So I asked her if she was alright, and she directed me to the ladies room (one of those really posh affairs where there's an actual living room before you get to the actual water closet) and proceeded to tell me that she was pregnant and she couldn't get hold of Jake (Gyllenhall, I'm guessing), and that she didn't know what to do about the baby.

I gave her what I thought was really sound advice about keeping the baby, and she got Jake on my cell, and mission accomplished for Carrie, I left the party and went home.

[Poll #1425001]
Have had a dream wherein one of my fictional characters gets attacked by several other fictional characters that know (and may have liked) him.  Was awful.  Awoke wary.  Glad I live in a house with all boys.

Might have lost it.  Imminent loss of sanity expected.

I'll keep you posted.
I got so much writing done this weekend that it looks as if the block is over.  *releived sigh*

We watched movies that we already own this weekend.  The Curse of the Jade Scorpion and The Count of Monte Cristo, both of which are very, very good.
persephone33: (dorothy writes)
( Dec. 26th, 2006 08:03 am)

The word "holiday" is  a misnomer, I think.  I feel like I've been run over by a truck.  I've spent the last three days cooking, baking and cleaning up, so I feel like I've been in the kitchen more in the past week than in all of 2006.  I made Christmas dinner this year...  that includes turkey, dressing, sweet potatoes, mashed potatoes, green beans, fruit salad, cranberry sauce, & apple and pecan pies, all from scratch, yo.  Also did two benevolence meals (one had a baby, one has cancer) the 22nd and 23rd, of lasagnas, side items and cakes.  Don't want to cook anymore.   Tired.



persephone33: (Default)


RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Powered by Dreamwidth Studios

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags