Missing

Happy Bastille Day. Happy birthday to a friend that is long left my life.

My dream last night was filled with excitement. It was her wedding day. She was wearing traditional wedding dress of Eastern India and her husband-to-be had a large circle of flowers around his neck. She was beautiful. Just like I remembered her in high school. She had big almond shaped eyes and mocha skin. She was talking to me and telling me she was getting married that day. And could I help her. Of course, of course. I couldn't believe she was asking me. I was thrilled to be reunited just in time for her wedding. In a brief moment, we were back in the halls of our old high school. Plans were being made, ideas were being told to me. I wanted to be involved in all of the bridesmaid hoopla. I was asking her question after question. She was calm and well organized. The wedding had already begun. Someone in charge was whispering "They've started too early! No!" People dressed in fancy frocks with worried looks on their faces were pushing and shoving to get into the event. I was sitting on left of the high school gym watching her hold the hands of the groom while saying her vows. She was smiling. For the rest of the dream I tried frantically to keep up with her. To talk to her. Then, I was asked to go up to the podium and make a speech about her. I got up there and remember looking down, choking back tears. I knew what I wanted to say, I just could not get the words to come out. My voice crackled and I said "Nita and I...." I wanted to say that we had been friends forever. But we haven't. I lost her after high school.

This morning when I got in the car, the radio voiced told me it was French Bastille Day. July 14th.

Today is her birthday.

Nita, I wish you a beautiful birthday. Wherever you are....

Dream Hangover

The sleep I had last night is comparable to dog vomit. It was one of those nights that you are consciously aware that you are in the bed trying to sleep but you know you're not. Instead of being in a sleep coma - which I love - I was slightly awake, slightly drowsy, kind-of-sort-of sleeping. I woke up every hour or so, looked at the clock and thought "Wow. I've got some more time to sleep." Then I would go back to sleep - if that's what you call it- wake up again an hour later and think "Wow. I really don't have that much more time to sleep. Sleep dammit! Do it!" Then I had horrible dreams. It was the one where I hear someone is knocking on the door and it is so damn real that I can't tell if I'm dreaming or it is really happening and my mind is just trying to secretly work it into the dream. Deep down I know that the person knocking on the door is a baaad person. I know this is going to be grizzly. Sure enough, he comes barreling through the door (in my dream my boyfriend opens the door without a crazy weapon that you pick up on the way to the door. Which we all know any of us would grab a bat, knife or go all Joan Crawford and grab a wire hanger to ignite fear in the unwelcome visitor). Needless to say, the boogieman bursts through the door with a gun and holds us both hostage for days. We try to escape at one point, only to be caught. When we are caught, we both know the consequences will be astronomical. True. I am forced to have a long crochet needle poked through my gums. ???WTF??? Where does my subconscious come up with such evil things? Plus a crochet needle would never make it through your gums. Duh. The second part of punishment for trying to escape is that we are demanded to eat a sandwich that we had to make with peanut butter and those pixie sticks - you know the ones with the sugar stuff down in the stick? Thinking about it now, that kind of sandwich doesn't really sound all that bad. But at the time I was balling, thinking "How am I going to eat this horrid poison?" Around about that time, I woke up. Whew. Just think. I might not have ever escaped and would have been forced to eat candy and learn to crochet with my own torture device. Yuck.
Anyway, the point I am trying to get to is that I am unbelievably tired. I'm on my second cup of coffee and pondering having yet another bagel. Food will give me strength. Bagels are the breakfast of champions. Poo. I'm going out to my car to take a nap.