Car Crash

I woke up from a nap earlier today…

It was dark. I was driving on a familiar street, yet a street I rarely drive on. I had a hard time seeing.

I hate driving at night.

I yield right to turn on the busy street. There was a bit of traffic. I patiently waited until it was clear. I saw a girl in her black car. It seemed she was slowing down to stop. I turned right onto busy intersection.

I looked into my rearview mirror I saw the girl’s car directly behind mine. Immediately, the lane divided as a right turn only lane.

Dammit.

I signaled left and turned my head over my shoulder. It looked clear. I began to turn, I heard a loud, BOOM from behind. Then another, BOOM on the driver side of my car. I heard honking and tires 

screeching.

My eyes were blurred.

My head was titled onto my left shoulder. I moaned.

I’m still alive. 

I tried moving my head.

I woke up bringing my head up to the right.

• My dreaming mind is telling me a lot. It's just so hard to start all over especially when you're forced to.
• I'm still hopeful.

I Called 911

I had another dream about my father.

We were working in the garage on one of the cars and it exploded. White sparks flew into the air. He was standing right next to it. I rushed to call 911.

I remember that Tuesday night when I called, it seemed like forever until the ambulance came. My mom was running around the house yelling, "When is 911 coming?!!!!"

One of the scariest moments of my life.

The dream is a blur to me now (I stopped myself from writing it down when I woke up. The pages would have been covered in tears.)

On bended knee, the female paramedic talked my father while he lied in bed. She asked the routine questions they are trained to ask. She said a few words to me too. 


He was still breathing, but not responsive. 

Out of no where, there was two of him. One still alive on his bed and the other dead on the floor.


I know he's gone, but a part of me wants to believe he's coming back home. That he's still in the hospital waiting to be discharged.

I find myself constantly repeating that Tuesday night he was rushed to the hospital, and his last days on Earth.

I'll Be Missing You...

He was lying in his usual spot. Half asleep and half awake listening to one of his favorite game shows. I came home late that night. "Do you want any In-N-Out fries?"

He quietly shook head his no.

He was in my dream last night. He had a taste for In-N-Out.

The morning before just after dawn, I heard him call for "Help!" Twice. Within fifteen minutes. He called my name too. He had slightly fallen to his side and didn't have the strength to pull himself up. "Why do you keep falling down?"

"I don't know," he said as he put out his hand. I lifted him right side up.

In my dream he also asked for help. He needed a hand again.

When he was rushed to the hospital Tuesday night, I didn't think it be his last time at home.

Early Thursday morning, I felt an excruciating pain on the left side of my chest right upon my breast.

My father passed away December 1, 2011. 

My mind had prepared for this day for years, but my heart had not.

Every time I look out our front door window or as I pull into the driveway, I'm hoping that he'd be sitting his car. 

I keep thinking what could have I done differently. I should have taken care of him better. I should have pushed him more to take his medication. I should have. I should have...

Should have doesn't change anything. 

Life is going to be so different. It is different now. I miss him. I miss you, Daddy.

"Memories give me the strength I need to proceed, strength I need to believe..."

I Never Noticed

It's funny how we can see the same things everyday and never come to appreciate them until someone, an outsider points out the beauty in those things.

Several years ago, I attended an Angels game with a co-worker. We had nosebleed seats. To the left of the stadium, off in the horizon were clouded, purple mountains.

"Wow. Those mountains are beautiful." He repeated himself several times, taking in deep breaths between his words.

I must have driven past those mountains thousands of times, but never cared to notice them. They were a part of my everyday scenery.

....

Driving on the freeway to the Hoover Dam, my friends pointed out the (black) mountains. They were our scenery all the way there. I told them I've seen these types of mountains my whole life, but I never realized how amazing they were.

....

It was on a Sunday morning, day two of our first yard sale attempt. A couple walks into our driveway and the woman says, "Wow. That's a beautiful tree."

I looked up at it, and thought, I never noticed that. It is beautiful.

Since then the tree's leaves have turned to a light green-yellow. It's still beautiful.

When Did "Doug" Become So Scary?

Last night I was in live action cartoon that was something like this:

Except that it was a horror, suspense live action cartoon. My dream involved everything that the typical horror, suspense genre includes which was killing people, deceit, and lust.

The characters in my dream were a live multi-color skinned version of the characters from "Doug" which included Skeeter and Mrs. Wingo in the form of one of my coworkers. There was also other random people (an ex-roommate, peers from high school) from my past as characters too.

I can't remember too much details except people were plotting against me and a friend, a lot of whispering and lies. The dream ended with a weird Torah reading. Everyone each grabbed a card from the deck and my friend received the last card that read, "Curse!"

This Looks Too Good to be True

The early part of 2008 was the opposite of what I had dreamed it up to be. I had moved to a new college town. The night I moved into my shady studio apartment, my mom called crying, "I miss you so much!" It wasn't even twenty four hours yet.

Those early months I kept wondering if I had made a mistake. I take pride on being independent; love making my own money and paying my own bills -on time, but I underestimated what it really meant to live on my own. Nearly four months after the move, I had planned to move somewhere else, closer to home and comfort.

I saw an ad in the college newspaper about an internship. Although it was in black and white, there was a weird attractive colorfulness to it. I told my brother about it and he urged me to apply for it. I missed the presentation that week on campus.

I applied online, days later I got the interview, and a few short weeks later I was moving again. This time to the "Happiest Place on Earth." Dare I say it was some of the best eight months of my life.

I stuck around for another year and half after the internship. Not the best time of my life, unfortunately. After I let, I was bitter and unhappy.

Photo courtesy of my old camera phone.

I was "playing in the park" on my day off.


"Don't you have work today?"


"No, I don't think so." I don't want to risk losing a job over stupid points. "I'll check my schedule."


Of course. I do work tonight!


I grabbed my costume out of my closet and set it on my bed. (I wasn't in the same department anymore.) I got ready for work, went back to the park, and said bye to my man friend.


I stood under a tree and I looked up through the green leaves and branches as the fireworks shot across the sky above Sleeping Beauty's Castle.


My favorite part of the shift.

• I need a second part-time job. I've been diligently looking for one, but I won't lie I've been picky and choosey. I'm doing my best to put my pride aside and tell myself this is only temporary.
• About a week ago, a friend told me I should come back to the "Happiest Place on Earth."
• I miss it sometimes. Not the job particularly (well not the department), but the people I've met through that experience. I miss them all the time.

from The Battle for Everything

That Recurring Person in my Dream

I never had a recurring dream, but I've had a recurring person appear in my dreams for several years. This person was one of the reasons I started a dream journal. It's my best friend from first grade, "Lily." We were best friends throughout elementary school, then middle school separated us. However, we spoke on the phone regularly (then later through email) and visited each other every chance we could. It wasn't until high school, sophomore year was when we had stopped regular contact.

It was after high school when Lily started appearing in my dreams. Randomly. We would later reconnect through MySpace in 2007.

"Lets get together sometime!" That's what we'd always say. It never happened. Then I moved away for school. She deleted her MySpace (or she removed me.)

We're now "friends" on Facebook (oh, Facebook) and I'm back in my hometown, but neither one of us have made any effort to reach out, just the typical "Happy Birthday!" wall post and the liking of each other's statuses.

I had a dream about her last night.

It was a scavenger hunt in an abandoned high school parking lot. Cars drove in and out. Teams sat on the black asphalt assembling their puzzles. Scattered letters covered the ground. Art crafts too. Lily, a nameless girl and I were on a team. I saw familiar faces from my past.

• There's plenty of people I should reconnect with. (Face to face reconnection.) Especially "Lily."

from Brandy

Celebrities are overrated

I have had many dreams with celebrities.

I'm a recovering Pop culture junkie.

He was telling me how much he wanted to be with me as he braced his arms around me and professed his love to me. I felt awkward.


"Our age difference doesn't matter," Donnie assured me.
...

There was a celebration going on in Boston. As my friend, "Lacey" and I walked along the sidewalk among the shops, a reflection of a double-decker bus drove past us. I looked towards the street. On top of the bus was Donnie and his brothers.


One of his brothers had past away. They were celebrating his life by having a parade in his honor.

• This is embarrassing, but I had a dream about Donnie Walhberg and Mark Walhberg. Why? I was no fucking clue! This past week I did read an article from Yahoo about them opening up a restaurant together. I also watched about ten minutes of "Blue Bloods" which features Donnie Walberg. 
• I'm not a New Kids on the Block fan, but I do love me some "Good Vibrations."
• Bahahahahaha! What a dorky dream.

"It's Rob Birthday. We're throwing him a surprise party," Kourtney looked at me with her huge bug-like sunglasses. "You need to come with me to the store."


"I still need to buy him a present." I had no idea what to get him.


(I can't remember if we went to the store or not, but we did do a lot of wandering around town.)


Time is running out and I still haven't gotten him a present. "I need to go the store," I looked at him urgently.


"For what?"


"I need something." 


We walked through aisles and aisles. (I don't know what store it was, but there was a lot of school supplies. I want to say it was the 99 Cent store!) Rob looked bored and I was worried that I wouldn't find him a gift in time for the party.

• Okay, I confess I watch "Keeping Up With the Kardashians." [Don't judge me. Well, you can a little.] I've always been very against watching this show, until last year, last fall. I had seen snippets of the show before with roommates, but didn't care. 
• My sole reason to watch is Rob Kardasian. Damn, I sound like a groupie. 

I Drove All Morning and Afternoon

I felt this nervousness rush over me. I hoped that I wouldn't get caught. My carry-ons ran through the conveyor belt. He was rumbling through my stuff. I imagined the others whispering, pointing it out on the screen. I walked though, red lights began to flash and the alarm began to ring.


BUSTED.


The TSA (Transportation Security Administration) man, took me outside of the airport. "I don't know why it rang," he said as we walked out.


He and I were in my car. He drove. (I'm not fond of driving, especially with people.) He drove around in circles throughout the airport. (I don't know why we were all of sudden in my car.) There was a third person in the car too. (Her voice sounded like my mom's.) She asked about the ringing alarm.

"I have a knife in my luggage that's why the alarm went off. I was hoping it wouldn't be noticed," I confessed to the TSA man and the third person. "It's a knife my brother gave me," I said sticking my hand behind my car seat.


The knife was hidden in the pouch of the car seat. "Well, I thought it was in my luggage."


"Where are we going?," I asked looking at the gas indicator. Oh no, I thought, it's empty! "We should exit out of here I need gas now."


The TSA man was talkative. (I can't remember any of our conversation.) He drove us out of the parking lot.


We drove on the freeway on a bridge, I looked out the windowshield and saw the city lights. It was a panned image of glowing, red and white city lights reflecting off of tall buildings and a charcoal sky.


My flight doesn't take off until 2 p.m. and I arrived at the airport at 9 .a.m.! I was going to Japan. I looked at the clock it was 10:30 a.m. I have plenty of time, I thought. "I'm really early I said," as I got out of the car.


... I'm somewhere else now. The TSA man is gone. I ran into my old friend, "Frank". (I only knew him for less than a year, but he felt like those people that I've known for years. He fit perfectly into my dull life.)

"Frankie!" I gave him a huge hug. We caught each other up on our lives. He seems to be happier, still lost in this world, but happy.


I told him I was going to Japan, then we got into a conversation about my brother's hospitalization from a few years back. (A true story. I don't remember what triggered that conversation.) That story about my brother's brush with death was a way for me to lecture him -to take care of himself. (We somewhat had an older sister, younger brother relationship.)

"Watch what you eat..." I urged Frank. He listened carefully as I told him the details.


... I was home now. I explained to my mom what happened at the airport. I looked at the time on the computer screen and it was now 2:19 p.m. I missed my flight. I didn't say anything to her about just missing my flight by 19 minutes, I let her kept talking in the background.


I felt nonchalant about the time. Oh well, I thought to myself, I'll find a later flight. I began to think of a story to tell customer service, so that I won't have to pay for another ticket. I kept thinking that I will find another flight to Japan that was delayed.

• My greatest dream is to travel the world. I'd love to have Adam Richman ("Man vs. Food/Food Nation") and Guy Fieri's ("Diners, Drive-Inn, and Dives") jobs. Get paid to eat and travel the country?Yes, please! I would just love to be a travel writer or even tour with a band for a summer as their roadie.
• My biggest dilemma is that I'm in debt. That could be why I never got on that plane. I can't afford to travel right now.
• I miss "Frank." I wonder if he's thought about me.
• I seem to give good advise to others, but I never seem to listen to my own.
• Sometimes I feel like I'm running out of time... to follow my dreams.
• Oh, and I've been meaning to put that knife back into my car.

It's 6 a.m. and I still can't sleep...

I walked into the garage and my brother was showing "Tito" and "Randy's" mother my old hand-me-down car; a black, 2002 (or 2001) Kia Spectra. (I hate that car. It was a year or two after high school, the car's battery had stopped on me in the middle of an intersection at  around 9 p.m. It was embarrassing!) He was trying to sell it to her.

I was feeling anxious that morning. I had gotten a new job at the local hospital. (I just applied there this week.) Already, I had confused my work schedule. I didn't show up the first day! (So, unlike me to miss work, let alone the first day!) It was the second day and I thought I had started at 11:00 a.m.

"Where's Tito?" I asked glancing over at Randy wandering on the other side of the garage.


"He's at home," she replied.


I went back inside the house to double check my schedule. 


"I took a sick day yesterday," I said to my brother who was now inside with me. I logged onto the work site.


"Oh my god! I was supposed to start at 6:45 a.m. and leave at 11:00 a.m.!" I was shocked and stared at the screen, thinking how could this be and how dare they schedule me that early. (I'm not a morning person, well at least not for work and I when I worked at "The Happiest Place on Earth" I would sometimes be scheduled 6:30 a.m. shifts. Ugh.)

"I'm just going to take another sick day again. It's late to come in now."


"You already called out two days. If you call out three times they're going to fire you," my brother warned.


It was already close to 11:00 a.m. and I hadn't contacted the hospital yet. "They probably think, I'm a 'no call, no show' and will fire me," I thought panicking. "I'll just submit the sick day now," as I hurried and clicked.

I worked early the next day for work. I subbed for another aide. My co-worker said, "Tito and Randy are absent again." She made a hand gesture over her stomached and whispered," Their mother is having the baby."

"Oh, really? I had a dream about their mom last night. We were trying to sell her our old used car." We laughed.

• I always get paranoid when I have to wake up early for work. I always think my alarm clock on my phone won't go off. Nights before an early shift, I sometimes dream about being late to work or often times I'm tossing and turning the whole night.
• We definitely need to sell that car. My brother and I have discussed that during one of our recent conversations.
• I really need a second job soon!

Directionally Dysfunctional

I have the most random dreams. Sometimes I can see why I dream about certain things (work, school, friends), but often times the dreams as a whole make no sense. They're more like movie scenes I guess. Although, I'm always trying to interpret them if possibly any of them can be connected to my real life.

[A dream this past weekend.]

"You're going the wrong way," I said. "You need to turn around."


My aunt and cousin were taking me home, but for some reason I needed to go somewhere else. We were in Las Vegas.


"What's the street?" My aunt asked.


"It's Fremont. It should be a few stoplights down. Just drop me off here."


All of a sudden it was nighttime. There were a lot of lights shining; hotel buildings and streetlights. I kept walking.

"Did I pass it?" I thought. I didn't see Fremont Street.


I walked into a hotel to their front desk. The male receptionist told me Fremont was just around the corner. He directed me around with arm motions and I followed.


I have no idea why I needed to go to Fremont Street, nor do I know my specific destination in this dream.


I walked out the hotel into the direction he explained, but I ended up walking to the pool area that led me to the end of a gate. I couldn't get out. I turned around to walk back into the hotel.


I was now at another part of the hotel. It felt like a completely different one. As I walked to the desk. Another male clerk helped me. His outfit was sparkly as was everything around him. (That's Vegas for you!)


"I know where Fremont is," a familiar voice interrupted. I turned around. "I can show you."


It was an old friend. (I haven't spoken to him in real life in over a year. He hates me, maybe not hate, but he doesn't like me anymore. At least that's how I feel. I miss him. I'll name him "Micheal.")

We walked out of the hotel together into the darker night. We kept walking and walking.


"Did we past it? I don't see it?"


"I'll ask for help," Michael said. He flagged down a car. I waited on top of a grassy hillside next to a building. He ran up and pointed that it was that way.


"Are you sure?" I was worried. The car's headlights blackened, then it was gone. The lights disappeared in the city too. We began to walk closer together. White cloudy air began to swirl around us and ancient, giant trees appeared in the foreground and as if we were walking into to a forest. Maybe a swamp, or a cemetery.


"HEY!" a man yelled. He began to chase after us. He was huge like a hunchback. His hair was long, brown and straggly to his shoulders. He wore a grayish shirt and jeans.


He scared the hell out of us. Michael grabbed my hand and we ran as fast as we could. Just like those dreams where you run and run and run. Well, we did just that. There was no ending. The man ran closer each time trying to grab one of us.


That same hotel where I asked for directions was our rescue. Behind the smokey air, scary trees and in black night, there it was. We ran inside. We breathed hard and looked behind us. The man was gone. The male clerk (I believe the same sparkly one) stared at us.


I woke up.

• Aw, I miss "Michael." 
• I need to make another trip to Vegas.
• I need to improve my sense of direction!

from One of the Boys

Dear Journal

Doug kept a diary journal. I admired him. I kept a one as a child until high school. During my middle school years, my brother and his friend made it a game to steal and read aloud my prepubescent poetry and dreams about crushes. I ripped out all those pages in later years. (I kind of regret that.)

I still don't know why I stopped writing journals in high school.

"The most depressing years of my life. Our high school yearbook." -Matty

Oh, yeah, that's why. While my journal entries post high school are quite depressing, most people wouldn't label me a depressed person. Then again they don't know me.

My thoughts are sometimes depressing, but my daydreams are almost always lovely. My dreams at night are nonsensical and my aspirations sometimes seem unbelievable.