July 6th, 2006


Dirty dreams

I had a series of dreams, all of them very dirty and all of them involving persons who read my LJ.

I don't recollect the events, honestly, except to say that yes, they were very, delightfully dirty.

I remember who all but one of the people were. The fifth is a very foggy recollection now, but when I woke up, I knew it was someone on my flist.

But, because it is really a shame that I don't remember these dreams beyond that they were dirty and you (reading this) might have been involved, I figured there might be a chance that you would remember what we did last night in the dream-world.

Poll #763174 Poll 17: Dirty deeds, done dirt cheap

Were you in my dreams last night?

Perhaps, I don't recall either.
If I wasn't, I should have been.
If I was, I shouldn't have been.

What, exactly, did we do in this dream?

No one can read the poll results, and comments are permanently screened, in case anyone needs any extra room to answer the fill-in-the-blank question. . .

Edit: Or, I guess, you could choose to unscreen the comments yourself, which is perfectly fine by me :)

More bloodletting!

Things are currently going well. I've read everyone's LJ's in the past three or four days, and am about to catch up on the past three days chronologically.

I appreciate that some of you have been less than verbose. :)

To compliment my cut-open foot, I have now sliced open my hand. On the 4th of July, I was doing dishes and was trying to clean out the inards of a glass when the glass shattered (damn my big hands) and a large chunk of glass slid easily into the knuckle of my right index finger. It went fairly deep, and there was no pain (it was obviously very sharp. So no tearing occurred, and it's not a long cut, but it is definitely deep. There's some pain for typing and mouse clicking, and given the location of the cut and the depth of the shard, I imagine that I nicked the tendon that runs across the back of my knuckle. I know what a small tear in a tendon feels like (every athelelte does), and this is a real small-scale feeling of that.

It hasn't really stopped bleeding. Well, I take that back. It has started, then stopped, then started again about six times. My band-aid supply is running very low at this point. Between two dressings that need replaced at least twice daily, I've gone through a pack and a half in the past 2 or 3 weeks.

I honestly believe that I didn't truly believe that glass could cut the human body. I think that I thought it just. . . didn't do that. I think this has to do with the fact that I have never been cut by glass in the past, nor seen anyone cut by it. I've walked on glass, stepped on broken bottles, and never had it cut me. So mostly, this entire episode was accompanied by wide-eyed wonderment and surprise.

I mean, I thought glass hurting a person was an old wives' tale. Kind of like putting salt on a bird's tail. Well, old wives and the Red Cross. I saw enough training videos to know that the Red Cross certainly thought that glass was dangerous.

In all, my life is full of blood-letting, and I'm not even a devotee of Kali. Someone better fix the blood-letting, because I'm not fixing the devotee part. I've no desire to hang out with a goddess who has hearts ripped out and dips her sacrifices into a salsa made of burning! (Besides, I stick with deities I can believe in: I have a whole post fermenting about Usas and how I feel about her.)

And I think that tomorrow, for lunch, I will go to the library. There's some Microfilm I need to look at, unless something sexier comes along to steal me away from research. Tonight, I'm skipping out of work early (via a late lunch at 4:00) and at 4:30 or so, I'm going to the movie Hoot, which supposedly is entirely scored with Jimmy Buffett songs.

I'm really hoping to get a call tonight from someone. We'll see.