|This port contains my musings on writing and life in general. And yes, it is one hundred percent real. I pull no punches, and I co-sign no one. Enjoy.|
|To say the past two weeks have been rough would be a vast understatement.
I was sick in bed for about four days, trying to conquer my bronchitis/sinusitis infection. Finally, when I felt a little better, my mom called me to tell me that my cousin died.
When it rains, it pours.
I ended up going on an extended roadtrip with several family members, since my deceased cousin lived out of state. I got to see NYC, and it was nice to see Jersey and my home state of Connecticutt again. I had actually discussed seeing NYC with a few of my family members earlier this year, ironically. No one expected to be up that way for a funeral.
I just tried to make the best of a bad situation, and I've got good memories of my short time spent up north...along with some bad ones.
That's the way things go sometimes.
|I'm as sick as a dog today. I went to a metal concert on Saturday night, and I'm pretty sure that I have a sinus infection. It feels like I have a permanant hose of watery mucous running down the back of my throat, my ears feel like their underwater, and I can't stop coughing if I breathe through my mouth.
I went to my doctor yesterday, but he wasn't in, so I have to go see hime this morning. I've spent the entire night walking up every hour, on the hour.
Despite me being completely miserable, this sickness has given me the opportunity to edit some things in my port, so yay...
|I have a logical explaination for the end of my last dream.
Today, I met a new co-worker, and we made small talk. I asked her what she did before she got hired, and she mentioned a customer service job. She asked me if I liked my job. I replied that my passion was my other work, which presently pays...so-so. When she mentioned she only took the job to pay the bills so she could create artwork, I definitely had an eureeka moment.
If you can't make a profit out of doing what you love to do, then you're essentially whoring yourself out to make a profit in another field. I think that's what my brain was trying to tell me the another night, albeit in a twisted sexual fashion.
Now that I think about it, what makes doing pornography for a profit more horrific than any other job you really don't want to do? At the end of the day, you're using your body and your mind to do tasks that at best you could care less about doing, and at worst you hate. An essential waste of your talents either way.
And before you guys ask, the woman in my dream looked nothing like my new co-worker. Just thought I'd throw that in there before people start thinking I'm psychic like that.
|I had a weird dream last night. Well, honestly most of my dreams have some form of surrealism, even if I'm not saving the world in them, but last night's dream really stood out.
My dream started out in a narrow corridor, which reminded me of a stuffy antechamber in the back or front of a small town church. A taller church lady with a small hat on her head ran her fingers through my hair, and told me how nice it was. In response, I gave her a noogie and asked her how she liked it. She ran off screaming. After that, I sat down at a small table in the corridor. There was a young woman sitting across from at the table trying to lead some kind of song service. She was trying to tell me how to sing, so I got pissy and walked off.
I ended up at a grocery store. I waited in line for a long time. Some of the things I wanted to buy were potatoes, onions, and apples. When the cashier finally arrived, she was talking to a customer who had a buggy/shopping cart/carriage coming from the opposite end like she was going to ring him out first. I wasn't having any of that. I told the other customer to go to the end of the line where he belonged, and the cashier rang me up, and I was on my way.
The last part of my dream really freaked me out. I was in a room with a woman. She couldn't have been very old, probably between 18 and 21, and she was completely nude and obese. I kissed her, and she told me, "Not on the mouth". I thought to myself, am I in the middle of a porn video. I noticed two other women in the room who were older, maybe in their thirties. They're just as nude, but they started putting their clothes back on, as if they just finished shotting a scene. The woman I kissed stood up, but intead of holding an article of clothing in her hands, she's holding a colored sketch in her hands. The more I stare at it, the more it shifts, but the main theme seems to be iron bars and stemmed flowers. The style of the sketch reminds me of a blueprint, but I still like it. I said, "You're work is beautiful. You don't have to do this." Meaning she didn't have to do porn. One of the older women laughed and said "How else is is gonna get money for supplies?" The woman's answer disturbed so much that I didn't say anything after that.
When I woke up, I was actually worried for the young woman in my dream. I wondered if there was actually someone out there who was literally sacrificing their body for their art. After all, she felt real to me. I could still feel the impression of her lips on mine. I could still remember the soft folds of fat she had on her body like a twice wrapped comforter. It made me wonder, for over an hour, if there was something I could do to tell her to stop. To go get a grant for her work, or some kind of sponser. Anything other than sell herself.
After a while, I figured there wasn't anything I could, I was dreaming after all. And in my dreams the general rule is that I always dream strangers once, and only once. So, I calmed down and wrote this blog.
|...so little time.
Well, to sum up the past few weeks, I've pretty much been up and down. Something not so typical for me.
To start with, I asked my crush out on a date. And she reluctantly accepted. I think I would feel a little better if I knew where I stand with her, but I'm getting the suspicion that she see's me as some kid. Of course, I don't feel very good about that. Another thing that bugs me is that things seem to run hot and cold between us, on the phone she seems very professional, almost cold. Now I have one of those professional sounding voices too, but I usually drop that when I'm speaking on the phone to someone I kind of know. She doesn't.
Maybe I'm just trying to hard, and she is way too busy, and she is totally not interested. God, that was painful to type! XD
If that's the case, I wish she would just let me know. I'm a big girl. I can take rejection.
I just feel like I'm back in limbo again, even though she knows I'm interested in her.
My writing is coming along well. I've totally redone Visionary Part 1. Hopefully I can have the whole story wrapped up by December, but as usual, it's not done 'til it's done.
Other than that, it's pretty much been the same old, same old: work, and more work.
|What a nightmare! I dreamed my membership expired, and all my items were locked!
And you were there!
...and you were there!
Hmm...I guess that wasn't a dream after all. My membership did expire, but after freaking out on my way home, I was relieved to learn that over nine years of hard work didn't just evaporate overnight.
That four week 'grace period' before your items are permanantly erased is a lifesaver, let me tell you. I once had all my work deleted and I was pissed. Once it's gone, it's gone. Mad props to the Writing.com staff for giving everyone a few weeks to get their shit together after thier membership expires.
Anyway, do. I'm Kat Stacks...oops. Wrong format there. My bad! XD
Multiple apologies if my work was inaccesible for a few hours. Everything's back the way it was, so go have fun digging around in my port.
|I guess dreams do come true. I got into an ice fight with my co-worker. No feelings were hurt, but egos were definitely bruised. Especially since I threw the last piece of ice. Yay me! Management helped in the ice throwing, so don't judge me! LOL
My writing is proceeding at a steady pace, but I've got a long way to go before I'll be able to post an update to the Visionary saga. I'm working at this piece for several hours a day, editing and re-drafting things. It's slow work, but my efforts pay off every time I present my work at my writer's meeting. It's funny. New people show up every other week, in addition to regular gang, but no one ever says they hate my work. In fact, most people seem to enjoy my eclectic bite-sized pieces of work that I present. And I'm so awesomely okay with that.
|I dream a lot of semi-realistic dreams. Some of the events have a chance of happening in real life, but in a different conntext. Other dreams are just the result of my subconcious mind trying to work through some issues.
For example, less than thirty minutes ago, I was asleep, and dreamed that I was mad at a co-worker. He was talking behind my back. I ended up cursing him out and throwing a plastic cup full of soda on his head. For some reason, we were both at a store, and I don't know where I got the soda from, but that's besides the point. Any way, I decide to run off from dude, because I don't want my ass beat, but this guy is outside in his car talking on his walkie-talkie, waiting for me. So I scale a few barb-wire fences, get back into the store and start going through several doors trying to get away.
Hmm...pretty crazy huh? It's a little too extra for me personally. I would much rather have nice dreams about road trips through strange and beautiful locales that only exist in my dreaming mind, but my methodical head insists on addressing my issues. Which in this case, would be anger at my co-worker.
|Not to beat a dead horse to death for a second time, but I'll give you an example of why horoscopes are BS.
I'm a sag, which in astrology means that I'm not supposed to get along with earth signs, like a taurus for example.
Here's why that theory doesn't fly:
1. When I was a little kid, the cousin I looked up to the most was a taurus. He taught me how to play Mario Bros., and thus I became a gamer girl.
2. I have a sister who's a taurus. We are so alike it's scary. But our personality similarities are for another blog.
3. One of my best buds is a taurus. And again, we have gaming in common.
4. I dated a taurus. And the person I'm attracted to now is also a taurus.
So those are just a few examples of why astrology is BS. I very rarely hang out with the people I'm supposedly supposed to be attracted to, for whatever reason. I take people as they come first, and worry about their starsign later.
|...that I love people over thirty. Adults make the world go round. I love going home to visit my parents. I like talking about fishing with my grandfather.
But, I'm starting to get a lot of condescending behaviour from people over thirty. I recognize that I work in two fields which most people my age have no experience in, but the level of rudeness I've been experiencing lately is alarming and annoying. I'll give you a list of some of the things I've been told recently:
1. "You're how old? I have fishing rods/t-shirts/socks/whatever older than you!"
2. "I'm older than you, so I know what I'm talking about."
3. "There's no talking to you because you think you know everything."
These three responses where to genuine questions I had about someone's opinion. In each case, I genuinely wanted to know why they thought what they did, and all I got back was a snippy childish response.
Why is it that when people feel threatened or embarrassed they feel the need to attack someone's age, or lack of experience? Why is it so hard for adults to admit when they're wrong?
I'm pretty much across the board with everyone the same way. If I make a mistake, I have no problem admitting it. I believe if you discover and correct a mistake early enough, you can prevent that mistake from becoming a bad habit, or even worse, a blind spot.
It seems that once people get to be a certain age, they feel they can do no wrong. That everything they do is beyond reproach.
I've always said, I have no problem getting older. I'll accept every gray strand of hair on my head, and every inch of wrinkled flesh as a war wound from life.
But after meeting a lot of people who are older, I'm suddenly worried. What if getting older means that I'll stop listening to other people, stop growing as a person, stop evolving my way of thinking? What if getting older is the same thing as going deaf and blind, while only getting louder?