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You must chill.
Jun. 13th, 2002 10:18 amI normally resist the Livejournal bandwagons of surveys and quizzes, but I was a total factoid lemming and followed ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
robkaiote over to ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
reality_review. I can only hope my journal gets as smashing a review as what I've read online regarding recent episodes of the Real World. Though I know for a fact I'll get points deducted for taking no time customize the look of my journal, but what I lack in looks, I make up for in erotic sensibilities and willingess to perform. At least I'm resisting the urge to actually change my User Info. Or maybe I'm just lazy and mistaking that for confidence. Whatever works. Now, on to more pressing matters.
Last night I dreamt that I was dating my mother. (Intercom:Cancel page for Dr. Freud, cancel page for Dr. Freud.). Luckily nothing sexual happened in my dream, but she was definitely my girlfriend on the side and somehow I didn't realize she was my mother initially, but about halfway into the dream the elements came together, so to speak, at which point I ran to MelRo begging for her help and trying to figure out if she knew I was her child. MelRo then proceeded to tell her friend Clever Embittered Friend. I didn't find this tactic supremely helpful in my dilemma. Not much else occured in the dream except at one point I was looking at my chest and noticing more hair in a different pattern and realized I looked more like my father, then wondered if this was why my mother was interested in me.
Um, yeah. I don't really think there's much to say on the matter. Oh, except there was a smaller plotline involving visitingridleymae and jesseboi's new one bedroom apartment.
Perhaps my Freudian night visions were induced by spending therapy yesterday actually lying on the couch, rather than my normal sitting and facing her. But I was too exhausted to not lie down, and it was technically more of a sprawl, more that I was making myself at home in her little studio Pier One fancy flip-and-fuck. Seriously. It's this brown love seat that appears to be a couch until you sit down and realize the primary ingredient is foam, and the cushion can be pulled out to form an uncomfortable sleeping space. I know this because Damon has the exact same couch and I have attempted to sleep on it.
This morning the dog was completely hyperactive and nearly-insane in her attempts to "play". She ran around in circles in the parking area at breakneck speed with the rubber newspaper toy in mouth, ignoring all attempts to actually play fetch or come when I called her. I think it's about time to sign up for behavior classes.
robkaiote over to reality_review. I can only hope my journal gets as smashing a review as what I've read online regarding recent episodes of the Real World. Though I know for a fact I'll get points deducted for taking no time customize the look of my journal, but what I lack in looks, I make up for in erotic sensibilities and willingess to perform. At least I'm resisting the urge to actually change my User Info. Or maybe I'm just lazy and mistaking that for confidence. Whatever works. Now, on to more pressing matters.Last night I dreamt that I was dating my mother. (Intercom:Cancel page for Dr. Freud, cancel page for Dr. Freud.). Luckily nothing sexual happened in my dream, but she was definitely my girlfriend on the side and somehow I didn't realize she was my mother initially, but about halfway into the dream the elements came together, so to speak, at which point I ran to MelRo begging for her help and trying to figure out if she knew I was her child. MelRo then proceeded to tell her friend Clever Embittered Friend. I didn't find this tactic supremely helpful in my dilemma. Not much else occured in the dream except at one point I was looking at my chest and noticing more hair in a different pattern and realized I looked more like my father, then wondered if this was why my mother was interested in me.
Um, yeah. I don't really think there's much to say on the matter. Oh, except there was a smaller plotline involving visiting
ridleymae and jesseboi's new one bedroom apartment.Perhaps my Freudian night visions were induced by spending therapy yesterday actually lying on the couch, rather than my normal sitting and facing her. But I was too exhausted to not lie down, and it was technically more of a sprawl, more that I was making myself at home in her little studio Pier One fancy flip-and-fuck. Seriously. It's this brown love seat that appears to be a couch until you sit down and realize the primary ingredient is foam, and the cushion can be pulled out to form an uncomfortable sleeping space. I know this because Damon has the exact same couch and I have attempted to sleep on it.
This morning the dog was completely hyperactive and nearly-insane in her attempts to "play". She ran around in circles in the parking area at breakneck speed with the rubber newspaper toy in mouth, ignoring all attempts to actually play fetch or come when I called her. I think it's about time to sign up for behavior classes.
