Tag Archives: Dream

Gonna Eat Me A Lot Of Peaches

The weather has turned distinctly miserable again this week. I still haven’t been able to wear my ‘To Glitter, From Glitter’ new dress. And I want to be able to wear my new dress. If at least the rain and biting cold would go away I’d have no trouble throwing on a coat to do me from taxi to pub and I’d be ok for a few trips outside for a lovely fag as well. But no, our temperate climate means I’ll just have to dream about wearing the dress without the need for tested in the Arctic outerwear.. and dream I may well be doing for a while yet considering our recent ‘Summers’!

So, to cheer myself up, I’m going to think about the time I was in Barcelona with the sun shining, sitting on Las Ramblas with the waiter pouring triple vodkas for the price of a coke back home. Every so often we’d take some shelter in the market across the road and load up on fantastic fruit and race back to our table so that the chocolate we also bought wouldn’t melt! Oh the size of those juicy peaches! Steady now.. But definitely when I think of it being sunny I think of peaches, well, whose thoughts wouldn’t wander towards smooth skin, glistening provocatively under the brightness of a hot, lazy day?

To Glitter, From Glitter

presentOne of the most important things I do each year is buy something, just around about this time of the year as a particular treat, ‘To Glitter, From Glitter’ – that way, at least I get one birthday present that I really want! This time last year I was so sick though. Really sick! A week of lying on the couch, head spinning, not really knowing what time it was, maybe being able to acknowledge light and dark outside, wasn’t the best way to gear myself up for a spot of shopping. I did manage to drag myself down to the pub on the day [or night!] and was pleasantly surprised to find that a number of people had been told it was my birthday and the combination of mucho Disprin and  cocktails was, well, actually, it was bloody great!

Two years ago I bought myself a fabilis pair of knee high leather boots. The year before that a pair of very sexy Dolce & Gabbana skinny jeans. The year before that I treated myself to a number of days in Lisbon – well, that was my Big 3-0 Birthday, so I decided what the heck!

But this year, I’m at a total lost as to what to get for myself! Yes! I actually am! I bought the lovely Aveda Scrub before Christmas and to be honest, I’m all stocked up with hair stuff. I also bought a sexy little eyeshada duo from Nars and a few Lancome bits and pieces. And I’ve trekked around BT enough in the last while to know that I’m fine for cosmetics, STAT. See, it doesn’t have to be a small present, but it doesn’t haveto be a big present either. Just something I fancy that I wouldn’t buy on a day to day basis. I saw the most fantastic figure hugging Dolce & Gabbana strappy ‘pour yourself in’ little number, and at €975 I was considering it, but in fairness, I’ve nowhere to wear it to, at the moment. So I was sensible and draped it back onto it’s hanger. I saw another lovely D&G dress last weekend too, but I’ve a Karen Millen one very similar and being in the worst mood in the world stopped me from getting it. So, I’m kind of considering clothes. I’d like some new ones – but without the hassle of having to look for them, if you get me. But then, it’s really new everyday clothes I need and they’re not blingy enough to be a ‘To Glitter, From Glitter’ treat.

I’m ok for handbags. I haven’t seen any shoes I want. I don’t drive. I always get myself something to have on my birthday so booking a gig or a show or a holiday isn’t this kind of treat either. Now! Don’t even be thinking of putting me in a tranquil room as a treat, some blinky xylophone or whale birthing music rising from the stones as water trickles over them – I don’t do ‘salon treatments’. I even colour my hair myself so I can watch EastEnders in peace rather than fall into a coma, bored at the hairdressers for 2 hours. I’m not a patient person. A massage or a wrap thingy is just not for me.

Ah lookit! I’m really stuck this year. I just haven’t seen anything that I really want! It’s like a crime or something! How in the name of all things retail, have I not stopped at a window and misted it up as my breathing gets heavier at the thought of the goodies inside? This is serious people!

Second Time Around

blonde-goth-21‘OMG! What if..?’ or ‘If only I hadn’t said that’ or one that causes a million heads to hang in shame, reach for the Nurofen, claw hand seizing up altogether at the thought of it again, ‘When is it ever a good idea to have several tequilas towards the end of the night?’ Ok, so we can’t change the past, we’re stuck with the life we make for ourselves, but, but.. what if you could choose who or what you were going to be in another life? Interesting, eh? Anyone! Anything! The list is endless!

I’m not entirely sure I’d want to come back as a human. A lot of humans are pretty thick, pretty hard to live with and not a lot of fun. But then absolutely loads I know are great! Thoughtful, generous, engaging. But then that’s the thing with us humans, we do tend to judge one another. Your average guy animal just cares what a potential partner smells like, sows his oats and away with him. There’s a lot of single mothers in the human animal kingdom! If I did come back as a human, would I want to be unbelievably wealthy? I’m not sure, wealthy people tend to have to work harder to prove how down to earth they are if they want to be accepted by the man on the street and there’s a lot of ‘Oh, it’s alright for him, he’s loaded’. Would I want to be a celebrity? Eh, no way, hose! So much of the ‘sleb’ hype is nothing but a lair of backstabbing, falseness and insecurity. Would I want to be a really talented athlete? Maybe. But I’m not sure I could live with tripping on a hurdle or missing a shot that lost me an Olympic gold medal.

What about being a leaf? Just a leaf. Uncurling from the end of a branch. Spending my days in sunshine and rain, turning colour and then floating to the ground to be swept into a pile and burned at the bottom of someone’s garden. Not many windows for excitement there. I wouldn’t want to be a snail either, spending two years building my house, finally getting it in order before some great big foot squashes all my hard work into pieces, leaving me to slither into obscurity. Seahorses spend their days looking serene, maybe hanging onto a bit of reed. No hard work for the females, hand the kids to Dad and it’s off for a bit of floating around, doing nothing.

What if it didn’t matter what I was? Just that I was ok in my own little world. Some company would be nice. Maybe company on a regular basis would be better. What if I didn’t have to sweat the big stuff? Just did my best, letting others get on with their thing. Eating, being warm – two good options I’d take given the chance. And then whatever I was, just being around for a while, experiencing different things would also be nice.

In the grand scheme of things, I’d be happy with that.

Friday Heaven

It’s just like a dream! Well if you could decide what you wanted to this weekend and I mean, if you could do anything, what would you do? Your most heavenly thoughts could come true – what would they be?

I’ve already given you some insight as to what my dreams are made of, but what are in your dreams? Or, who is in your dreams? It’s all so fantastical to daydream about that actor or athlete bursting through the door and sweeping you off your feet, taking you away from a life of end month finances, your colleague with the bad breath or wandering eye, the trudge into work squeezed onto the last Dart that will get you to your desk on time or the smile you literally have to paint on your face in order not to kill your most demanding client… sure that list is endless!

And then maybe, you think that you can stay in your crappy job or rent a tiny flat at an exorbitant rent because when you close the door after another day earning another dollar, well, things aren’t that bad -you’ve already found the person of your dreams and you’re in heaven each and every time you’re with them. And that’ll do nicely for now.

Make Me Better

tablet-bottle1As soon as I woke up today I knew I wasn’t well. My throat was on fire and my head was all fuzzy even before I started popping some paracetamol. This was no day for braving the elements or trying to be nice to people – it was a day to stay in, keep warm and get better.

So, I got to wondering if there was anything apart from my throat spray and over the counter drugs that would help; definitely I’d feel better if I was hungry cos I love to eat. Maybe some cake. Some gooey chocolately cake wouldn’t scrape at my raw throat and would go down oh so easily. And maybe if Christian Bale brought me the cake and then sat down beside me, offering to rub my back and see if there’s anything else I wanted him to do. I think that would help. Kittens and a new handbag would also help. A basketful of kittens would be better. They could be all small and cute and not quite grown into their ears yet. They’d all start to wake up and waddle across the floor, all big eyed and inquisitive about everything. And when they spotted my fabulous new D & G leather handbag, I’d even take the precious cargo out of the dust jacket and open it up for them all to start clambering into. That’d make me laugh and then I’d feel better. After a little while when they all sat on my knee, their tiny purrs and sleepy faces would definitely help me forget how sick I was.

There’d be an episode of ‘Sex and the City’ on telly that I haven’t seen and then myself and Mariella Fostrop would laugh at the same bit, before she asks me to come on her show to talk about how fabulous I am. The two of us would be swapping mobile numbers, in between her admiring my taste in authors, jewellery and wine when the knock on the door disturbs us. I’d be feeling a lot better, so much so that I’d answer the door myself only to be swept up into the leather clad arms of Dave Gahan, as he serenades me with that sexy voice. Dave would lovingly plonk some Disprin into a bottle of water taken from his jeans pocket, hand it to me and sling his jacket around my shoulders. Then he’d tell me he could see me in the crowd at his last gig before telling me I’d be backstage for the next one.

Getting tired with ne’er a feline in sight, drifting to my bedroom on a marshmallow pillow is the most lovely feeling. Then standing at the open door would be Christian Slater, basket of retrieved kittens in hand, telling me that he’s staying the night to look after me. And that I can have whatever I like for breakfast. Then I’d just think about how great it would be to wake up tomorrow and not feel sick.

I.Can’t.Move.

The other night I woke to the sound of my name being called out. It was my Mom. Except it wasn’t. There was no sound at all, no one moving around and it was dark. I even called out to her and got no answer. I was ever so slightly creeped out by that but I didn’t dwell on it too much.
There was another time, however, when I was totally creeped out in the middle of the night and even thinking about it now has me out in goosebumps!
Ok, I’ve already told you that I live on my own on a busy road in a very urban area etc. The house is old and there are always plenty of people walking by at all hours of the day, no big deal. So, I’m well used to sleeping with a certain amount of movement going on outside… but it’s sleeping with a certain amount of movement inside my place that posed a problem in this case.
I really don’t think I was asleep beforehand, maybe I was but only very lightly that night. I suddenly just got this feeling. More like a sensation, something wasn’t right. Continue reading

Do You Déjà Vu?

Déjà vu is a funny one. Suddenly, there you are, lost in conversation about whether to wear skinny jeans or the jeans you actually fit into for Saturday night on the town and you realise that you’ve been in this conversation before. Or well, you’re saying to yourself that you can’t have had this conversation before because its only happening now. But you then realise that when your BF says she wants to try out a new bar, you already knew she was going to suggest it! Huh? Weird, right? How could you have known what someone was going to say before they say it? [Apart from when your mother sees you in that mini skirt or when your Father sees you spark up a fag in the kitchen]

I get déjà vu all the time, all the time. I’m used to it now though and it doesn’t freak me out anymore, but it is a bit of a spooky thing when it happens. I could be watching telly and maybe that particular episode of Desperate Housewives isn’t all that engaging and I see the scenes just before they’re played out, word for word, even though I’m not all that interested in the storyline. Sitting around the kitchen table chatting, a particular subject comes up and I know exactly what my uncle has to say about the matter because I’ve heard him say it word for word somewhere before while in that exact scenario, same people, same timing, everything. Or I go visit someone and his or her sitting room is very familiar, despite my never being there before. Or someone walks into the pub and just when I slag off their football team, their reply while changing subjects doesn’t surprise me in the least and neither does the fact that when another friend walks in, I’ve already seen her in that outfit, standing at the same bar, talking to that guy, yet later she’ll tell me the outfit is new and introduce the guy.  

There are a few theories about déjà vu, but there doesn’t seem to be anything conclusive. Like the one whereby you actually dreamt the scenario before it happened so that’s why it seems familiar. Okaaayy, so I can see the future in my dreams? Would ye explain that one to me now? And while you’re at it, please let me dream about next weeks winning lotto numbers tonight!