Me from A-Z

I got this one from Sarah's Blog. I thought it was an interesting twist on the usual survey.


A - Age: Twenty five

B - Band listening to right now: Muse

C - Career future: Proprietor of a self-sustaining community for hippies.

D - Dad’s name: Michael

E - Easiest person to talk to: My sister in law

F - Favorite type of shoe: cheap flip flops

G – Grapes or Grapefruit: Grapefruit

H – Hometown: Riverside, CA

I – Instrumental talent: Bassoon, Clarinet.....do video game drums and guitars count?

J – Juice of choice: Cranberry

K – Koala Bear or Panda Bear: Pandas... not a big fan of their restaurant, but they're sure cute!

L - Longest car ride ever: Bus trip to San Francisco and the busses kept breaking down.

M – Middle name: Ranae

N - Number of jobs you’ve had: 10

O- OCD traits: spider checks. I check EVERYTHING for spiders.

P - Phobia[s]: Spiders, Government, Law Enforcement...

Q - Quote: "I've got a joint in my room..." Lauren Hynde, Rules of Attraction

R - Reason to smile: My cats doing cute things. My husband flirting with me after being together for so long.

S - Song you sang last: A theme song I made up for one of my cats.

T - Time you wake up: 20 minutes later than I should. Always.

U - Unknown fact about me: I can drive a Zamboni, very poorly

V - Vegetable you hate: okra

W - Worst habit: Tardiness

X - X-rays you’ve had: teeth, neck, finger.

Y - Yummiest food my belly likes: Sausages!

Z - Zodiac sign: Aries

Knock Knock, Go the fuck away, please!

A few weeks ago, I roll up to my apartment and there is a cat chillin on my neighbors patio wall so I reach up and pet it and say "Hi, kittie kittie." God knows why I stop to pet strange cats when I have FOUR waiting for me inside. My neightbor stands up and says "His name is Mouse." Shit, I didn't even know he was out there! My husband and I don't really go out of our way to meet our neighbors becuase we're private people and we've had bad experiences in the past. Anyway, so they guy goes on and on about his cat, who is from the same little as my newest cat, so we talk about that a little bit and I go inside.

Next thing I know, there's a knock on the door. I look through the peep hole to make sure it's not the cops (lol, it's always the cops in my mind) and it's my neighbor, I'll call him Don. Don says his cat is in my patio and can I please get him because he's afraid he'll run away. Well then keep him inside you fuck! Whatever. I grab his cat, hand it to him over the wall and go back inside. Half an hour later the same thing happens again. A little while later I go into my patio and the fucking cat is back there AGAIN. Okay, this is fucking annoying. I scoop up the cat, take him next door and return him to Don. Don asks if I think Mouse will run away and I said cats know where to get their food, and I'm sure he'll come back. He asked if my cats go outside, I said "No, they are strictly indoor cats." That may seem cruel, but it's for their own good, I assure you.

Later on, about 10, my husband comes home from work and we're just about to indulge in a bowl when there's a knock at our door. I made a face at my husband like 'it's fucking crazy Don from next door.' Look through the peephole and there's Don holding Mouse. It's 10 at night!! So I open the door and he says: "He wants to see his sister." and I give my husband a look like "are you fucking kidding me?!" so I bring Bella over, who hasn't seen this other cat in 4 months and then I get clawed the fuck up because she's angry there's another cat in her space. DUH! Don is obviously retarded. You don't bring an animal into someone's house. They aren't children, they aren't going to play, they're going to fight to defend their territory. Not to mention I spent a shit load of money getting Bella de-nastied from being outside, and he brings over this grubby cat who I'm sure is crawling with fleas and worms!

We spend a few minutes in the doorway (I will NEVER let this guy inside. EVER) and he saw our other cats and we talked a little bit and when things finally were too weird he leans in and says "Can I be froward? Can I get a little weed off of you?" ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?! So we oblige "just this once" and he leaves us the fuck alone for the rest of the night. We don't hear from him for a couple days and then one night.....Don's knocking on the fucking door again!

My husband stays up late because he works evenings and he's kind of a night owl, so he hears what goes on around the complex in the wee hours of the morning when he's out on the patio having a smoke. From what he can tell Don, and his brother "Danny" are crack heads. Literally. Greeeeaaaaat. Now I will seriously NEVER let him inside. Don knocks on the door every few days looking for weed and we tell him we don't have any, shut the door and smoke a bowl...We have friends drop by through the weekend, and you know you can smell it coming from our apartment. It doesn't matter! I'm not this guy's friend! We just happen to live next door to eachother.

One morning, at 4 fucking 30, Don knocks on our door and rings our doorbell over and over like a, well, like a crackhead would. We didn't answer the door. I heard him say "What's up, man!" through the door. What's up?! It's fucking 4:30 in the morning you daft fuck! Even if you see my husband go outside for a smoke, dont assume you can come knocking on our door! CHRIST! What the fuck is wrong with people?! I think this dude's got the wrong idea...

ANYWAY.... the knocking still hasn't stopped, despite us ignoring it repeatedly....I think I just need to tell him not to knock on our door anymore. I don't want to be rude about it, but shit! Love thy Neighbor only goes so far.

New Blog

I decided to start an entirely new blog for my more personal stories, just because I feel like this one's more casual and fun. You can check it out on my Profile if you're interested. Also, If anyone feels like leaving a comment on ANYTHING, please do. I'm all about interaction. ;-)

Why I blog

So, since I started posting back in August, I’ve been reading blogs of people who share similar interests (or share similar words in the interests section of their profile). I have come across several different styles of journaling, all very personal, full of raw emotion and obscure thought. The blogs that catch my attention share a central theme: The need to be understood and relate to others. At least that is how I feel; that’s why I started a blog. I keep coming across some incarnation of the same statement laced in people’s posts: “Nobody reads my blog (but I hope they do).” A good portion of the blogs I follow are fairly new; only a few months worth of entries at maybe two or three a month. Most people fill their page with random musings and rants, while some have a more melancholy “why are we here?” tone. I would say that almost all that I’ve read are an even mix of triviality and sincerity. Above all, they’re real.

How many times have you read someone’s blog and thought “I feel that exact same way”? Or you come across a post very similar to one of yours and they were written only days apart? I’ve laughed and cried over details of the lives of complete strangers and felt a connection to them, if only through their words. Sometimes I blush and get a little embarrassed because I feel like I’ve stumbled upon something that’s not meant for me to see! To me, blogging is a free form of therapy; a place to sound off without fear of repercussion. The semi-anonymity allows us to be open and honest and true to ourselves.

I haven’t written anything too personal here yet. I guess I’m just waiting for the right time. I have found a lot of deeply personal and some just plain hilarious blogs that I check every day! I try to leave comments on posts that interest me, or that I can relate to (there’s the theme again) but I’m kind of worried about coming off as a stalker! I just want to help promote free writing in the blogosphere. As mundane as some of you might find your own blogs, I guarantee there is someone out there who appreciates them. Someone who gets what you’re going through or has been there. Someone who shares the same interests, same philosophies or even the same name. Keep blogging, people! It is written proof that humanity is not lost. Oh, and HAPPY FRIDAY!

Hypnopompic Hallucinations

I don’t usually tell people about this because it sounds like a big fucking lie, but maybe some of you have had similar experiences. I can’t recall how many people I’ve actually told, but my husband didn’t believe me for the longest time. I don’t know if he believes me now, but that really doesn’t mater because I know it’s real. I wish it wasn’t because it’s scary as hell, but it’s been going on for so long now that I know how to handle it. I don’t know why it’s taken me this many years to put an actual name to my affliction, but thanks to some internet research I am finding out more on the subject. So, if you think it sounds outlandish, Google it.

I was twelve, maybe 13 and I decided to volunteer at the elementary school library across the street for the summer. My friend and I helped little kids pick out books, read to them and then straitened things up when it was slow. There were little caverns in one section of the library they called “the mouse holes.” The mouse holes had giant pillows in them and light holes at the top so you could sit in them and read. One day, my friend and I went into the mouse holes to take a little break. I got too comfortable and wound up falling asleep. The next thing I know, I could hear the sounds of the library, so I was awake, but I couldn’t see! I couldn’t speak! I couldn’t move at all! I was terrified and began to hyperventilate until I passed out, and then woke back up like normal. I was visibly shaken, and I tried to explain to my friend what had happened to me, but she didn’t understand, and I think I just scared her. I told the librarian I wasn’t feeling well and needed to go home.

I was trying to explain to my parents what happened, but I wasn’t even sure… all I knew, was that it felt like someone or something was preventing me from moving. I tried to call out, but couldn’t make noise. I could hear, but I couldn’t open my eyes. It was the scariest thing that has ever happened to me. My parents didn’t know what to do, so we went to the doctor. I wound up going in for an EEG. For those of you who don’t know, they stick electrodes to your head, give you a sedative and then monitor your brain waves. They put a strobe light on my face and tried to induce a seizure, but I didn’t have epilepsy, so they said “I don’t know what’s wrong” and that was that. I never discussed it with my doctor again and the subject was laid to rest. I suppose my parents chalked it up to “hormones” (every problem I had since I became 13 was hormones to them) and never really asked me about it. From what I can recall, that is. This was like half of my life ago, people. And you know how my memory is.

So, throughout the years I would go through periods where this would happen to me a lot, usually when I was under a lot of stress or didn’t get enough sleep. Some episodes were worse than others, some lasted a long time. There have been quite a few times that I would struggle to wake up, and when I’d be sitting up, I’d fall back down and go back to ‘sleep’ and have to struggle all over again. There have been a few occasions where the episodes were accompanied by sounds, voices or vibrations; even some pretty terrible nightmares where I would fight to wake up, and despite my overwhelming exhaustion, would get out of bed and walk around to keep myself from falling back into it.

Although I’ve never been formally diagnosed, I now know that I suffer (for lack of a better word) from SLEEP PARALYSIS. I guess I never went back to the Doc to discuss my findings because the episodes have become less frequent since I became an adult, and I’m in no real danger health-wise. And really, past finding the name of the disorder and finding out that it’s terrifying but harmless, I didn’t pursue any further information. I just figured it happens, I’ll survive, and when I talk about it my husband thinks I’m crazy so I should just give it a rest. Until this morning…

My husband stays up much later than I do, so I usually start sleeping on the couch and then I move to the bed when he does. So, around 4:30 I get up, get a drink of water, give the cats some water and food, pee, etc…..and get into bed. Around 6:30, I feel like I’m dreaming and I hear this deep, evil, demonic laugh come from behind me. It’s so resonant it shakes the bed! So I’m like “OH FUCK!” and I try to jump up…. nothing happens. I’m paralyzed. I’m trying my hardest to open my eyes, I’m screaming “BUB! BUB!” to my husband but my breath barely escapes my throat and I start to hyperventilate, so I try to calm down. The trick is to stay calm and regulate your breathing and let yourself gain enough strength to “rip” yourself out of bed. I lay there for what seemed like 5 minutes, although I’m sure it was just a few seconds, and then my eyes opened and I sat up in a daze. My heart was beating out of my chest and I felt like crying, but once I was fully awake, I felt okay. I nudged my husband and said “I had a bad dream, will you hold me?” and without even waking up he turned over and threw his arm over me. It took me a couple minutes, but I went back to sleep.

When I woke up 45 minutes later for work, I was so exhausted. I’m still pretty sluggish. I decided I better do some in depth research on the subject, if only to find other people who experience it. I haven’t gotten that far, but I already found a lot of interesting information. For example, some people use Sleep Paralysis as a “launchpad” for Lucid Dreaming!! Reeeeeaaally…..I don’t know a lot about LD, but being the psychonaut that I am, it caught my attention. Also, some of the things I’ve experienced like the demonic laugh, or feeling a presence in the room is typical of SP. In fact, in the dark ages people who experienced SP thought they were being possessed by demons! This is just too interesting… I’m going to go to the library and see what kind of books I can find on dreams and sleep disorders and see if I can straighten some shit out. If you, or someone you know suffer from an addiction…..wait. That’s the ending line from Intervention. If you, or someone you know have experienced SP, comment below because I would love to discuss this with someone who has been there. Sorry this post was so long. ;)