Restless dreams

[jethrien]

I woke up this morning with a knot of anxiety in the pit of my stomach for no good reason. I know that there was some kind of choice I thought I was facing in the middle of the night, and both choices were bad. I have no idea what this might be. (It very well might have been the choice between sleeping on my left side or my right; I tend to get irrationally angry and irritable when I'm half asleep. I will hate Chuckro to the depths of my soul for rolling over. And then I'll wake up all the way and not have the slightest idea why that bothered me so much. Fortunately, when I'm half asleep, I'm also pretty much incapable of actually doing or saying anything, so my irrationally angry self stays safely tucked away.)

I know I had some kind of dream about being kidnapped by aliens from a tent in the desert and having to teach Godzilla to throw baseballs at the vengeful ninja ghosts who had escaped from prison. (Rubber suit Godzilla, not the America crappy movie Godzilla.)

Comments

[ivy03.livejournal.com]

Rubber suit Godzilla, not the America crappy movie Godzilla.
You mean G.I.N.O.?

Too much time spent at web comic panels...

[jethrien.livejournal.com]

Yes, and yes.

[(Anonymous)]

You have some issues. I blame your mother.

[(Anonymous)]

Speaking as the other mother, they ALWAYS blame the mother. Why don't they ever blame the father? The aunt? The cousin? The dog?

No, it's always the mother.

[jethrien.livejournal.com]

Mostly because neither of you ever provided a dog we could conveniently blame.

[(Anonymous)]

No, it's because the mother has the most formative influence, for good or evil, despite what the dad and the dog say. Mom Power!!! I tried to use mine for good, but I sometimes get accused of using it poorly. For example, my son, who was so warped by my not allowing him to play with toy guns until he was 5, that he subsequently joined the Army. My fault. All mine.

[jethrien.livejournal.com]

Most definitely.

If you'd just gotten him more things with rocket launchers, he never would have had to go blow things up for a living.

[chuckro.livejournal.com]

So...if my mother had not let me play with giant robots as a kid, I'd need to run off and build them now? Damn. I guess she didn't throw out my Voltron early enough!

[jethrien.livejournal.com]

Ask Lyriendel.

[lyriendel.livejournal.com]

Hmm, interesting theory. Maybe I build robots now because nobody would ever buy me Transformers when I was a kid!
Then again, my brother played with a whole mess of Transformers *and* Voltron, and he's also building robots. :)

[(Anonymous)]

But but but....blowing things up for a living is FUN. Okay, so I wouldn't really know yet, but someday I might get to pick the things that get blown up...that counts, right??

[jethrien.livejournal.com]

OK, fine.

[chantal1382.livejournal.com]

okay, that last message would be me being an idiot and forgetting to sign in...

[jethrien.livejournal.com]

Actually, I managed to figure that out from context.

[chantal1382.livejournal.com]

awww, you mean you don't have lots of other friends who are excited about blowing stuff up? =D

[jethrien.livejournal.com]

Many people like blowing stuff up. Not a lot of them can tell other people to blow it up.

[(Anonymous)]

Actually, we did have a dog- a cranky, mangy, smelly cocker spaniel named Skippy. He lived a staggering long life (18.5 years), dying when Chuck was about a year and a half-- not before trying to nip him, however. Our famous line was, "Don't pet the dog; he bites."

I made the mistake of bringing Skippy, this disgusting creature, back from the edge of Parvo twice, thanks to hand-feeding him iced tea, strips of white-meat chicken, and Pepto. I bathed him every week with baby shampoo and cream rinse and blew his fur dry because 1) he stunk 2) he was terrified of groomers. I shared my antihistamines with him during hay fever season --full pill for me, half for him-- and even allowed Bob to bury him in the back yard. Poison ivy grew up over his grave. Really.

Now, if a pet like THAT doesn't warp a child, what will?

[chuckro.livejournal.com]

Can you tell, my mother was VERY fond of this dog, and was heartbroken when he died. Seriously.