Don't think sorry's easily said

I find it so strange when straight men wink at me. Not unpleasant. But still, strange.

That sentence is from a journal entry I made on Friday, I think. I didn't even know I had started a draft, but apparently I did and never finished. Possibly because I was SO EXCITED to get eat dinner at Smoque and then go sing karaoke. It was just Jyl, Liza and I for most of it, though Coxy dropped by for a bit near the end. It was many of the things I love about Sidekicks -- a couple of soloists, there alone to sing. And then some random party with an odd mishmash of people (in this case they were all co-workers). The only bad part about the crowd is that they hardly every clapped. They would sing along, but then there was never any love at the end. That is just bad karaoke form, in my world. My first song of the night was Alan Parsons Project "Eye in the Sky" and I had a major case of the giggles while singing, which has never really happened before. I was cracking up at my own song choice.

The weekend was sort of bleak, weatherwise, with almost no sun ever appearing from the shelves of grey clouds. But I managed to keep it together fairly well. Lots of eating good food at home, though last night we went all out and had dinner at Bistro Campagne. I even left kinda drunk from the two glasses of wine, since they are pretty heavy pourers at that place. I guess that is the benefit of fancy establishments. Also, Neil Young was having a private birthday dinner and I swear I saw him on the sidewalk, walking into the cottage right when I came outside, but I need to confirm with my inside contact who worked the party what his wardrobe was, to see if I was right.

Mostly the weekend was good because of good conversations, being able to be honest in unexpectedly easy ways, about things that maybe wouldn't be easy to say last week or last month, but now they just spill out and it feels good and easy. And good sex. These are all what make a certain weekend feel like a prototype for all weekends.

I'm still having to make copious trips to the chiro. Today was supposed to be a massage and treatment, but instead it was just treatment and I go back tomorrow for massage and adjustment and half the time I'm just like, I have no idea what you're talking about, just tell me when to come in. This probably makes me susceptible to things like overtreatment. And cults. But I don't it seems okay now. Especially since I haven't had to pay anything since that initial office visit. Which is why I'm also thinking about getting custom made arch supports. I frequently have achey feet but never really thought much about it, until on my first visit she said "wow, you have high arches! Do you have any problems with that?" and I said no. But then I realized, well, wait, I do frequently wish I had someone to rub my feet and I can't really wear cheap shoes. Perhaps this is related.

I need a karaoke userpic.

This time you’ll listen to the movement in your body

I had this dream last night, a big epic one with lots of various guest-stars and episodes and whatnot, but the part that is tripping me out most is how there was a stage show and swimrgirl5000 was doing an act and asked me to be in it, and I'm like, what do I wear? And she looks at me in my hoodie and plaid pajama pants and smirks and says, actually, what you have on will be perfect. And I said, oh, okay, but what am I doing? And she said, here's your cue, come on stage, move around -- just improv it, you'll figure it out. And I did and it was weird and fun and mostly I just circled around in the back for one part of the song.

This is so extremely similar to a dream I had last week with Jyldo, where I was "improv-ing" a piece with her at a Links Hall type place. The dream ended right when I got my outfit on and they introduced us and we went running onto the stage, and there were hundreds of people watching us and I wasn't nervous at all. I wasn't anxious in my dream last night either. In both cases, I was slightly confused, but confident and plunging in headfirst and feeling good about it.

Today I'm thinking about what the repetition of themes and dialogue mean. My subconscious has been giving me such intense dreams lately, and I totally dig it. Even when they are sometimes hard to go through, like the one about my family. I think these improv dreams are about my writing. My nanowrimo plan isn't necessarily barreling through how I imagined, but then again I also didn't imagine a lumbar injury that would occupy a lot of my time and energy with doctor's appointments as well as the need to get up and move around every 15 minutes. I'm chugging along with writing, I'm still on course to finish this thing by the end of the year, and I even have one whole week before I leave for LA and a lot can get written in a week, if I sit down and do it, and lately I have, been sitting down and doing it. I'm still trying to figure out the ending, this last third is really muddled, I can't see it all, but I keep writing things anyway. I think the dreams are about that. Just improv it! Just get in there and do it. Ok.

I'm even enjoying it in a way, its keeping me feel balanced, being in the novel everyday. I think its supremely helpful to my mental health to have an alternate universe I can go to. I'm like a kid who needs to hide in his treehouse, so that I can face the world of adults too. I suppose that is often what movies and tv and video games provide too, but those are all relatively passive, so its good to balance it with something active.

I've often kept the beast locked up. Turns out, all this time, I should have been feeding it.

In Other News^TM, I think I accidentally shoplifted from Target last night. I was in the cologne section and just allowing myself to look and smell, not going to buy, but sometimes I need to just indulge a little, and there was a sample vial, but it was packaged in a card you could hang onthe rack, and it was on the bottom of the rack, by itself, and I'm like, hmm, free sample, the last one, I pick it up and put it in my jacket pocket. Tonight I found it and opened it and realized, this was maybe not supposed to be free? Its unclear. The little vial only 0.05 oz, but it actuall have a mini-atomizer on it! So I can spritz it! That's what made me think it was supposed to be a sample you buy, not one they hand out. Oops. I don't know.

Um, did I mention what cologne it was? David Beckham's Instinct. Um, yeah. Its not bad actually, just very traditional "men's cologne" smelling.