Wednesday, October 31, 2001

So we decided at the last minute we will dress up for H-night. Last night I was on the phone with Tim, whining "I don't have anything to wear." He said that we didn't have to go out, but I would hate to disappoint him...he'll be going as JFK-funeral era Jackie, something that he's planned for about a year. Can't disappoint the guy with H-night since his mother didn't let him trick or treat past the second grade since she wrecked the car in a ditch...and we all know how childhood deprivation forms us as adults. But as I mentioned before, Stan and I just didn't have time to get costumes together after arriving home from vacation. Oh we had an idea all right....

...Because I heard someone on the radio yesterday bring up the fact that other people will be going as this for Halloween this year, I will mention it because if it was on the radio and nobody complained, then I guess it can't be as bad as I was fearing it would sound to some. Although I do admit I was apprehensive about it, and one of our friends actually feared we'd get hassled for being this, however that friend was in Fort Collins, which has a different attitude about things than does liberal, ironic (original home of the Onion) Madison. When I thought of it back in September, it was a completely novel idea to me, but I guess it can't be that original as I did hear that other people will be going as it as well. Ah, well, similar minds...

...OK, now before I tell you the costume that Stan and I were originally going to go as (which we're not going to use after all..just not enough time to get it prepared as it would be time consuming in its construction), remember the concept of Halloween:

Halloween is supposed to be scary.
Halloween is supposed to remember the dead.
Our costume would have encompassed both those concepts.

Stan and I were going to go as the twin towers of the World Trade Center.

You got the picture....complete with toy plane caught upon impact.

It would've been a great costume if we didn't have nearly four weeks of travel and vacation between the time we thought of it and Halloween.

So instead at the last minute last night, we went through our closet of old clothes from eras past.

Stan already had those grotesque Billy Bob teeth that he wears at work on Halloween, so he decided he'll wear those, plus he found this awful one-piece denimesque jumpsuit that who knows what he used to use it for (I don't want to know). So with the Billy Bob teeth, a Barney Fife t-shirt (it's absolutely hideous) that Tim gave me as a gag gift, and the jumpsuit, he'll look like a gas station goober.

I found an old black dress from the mid/early 90s (that still fits!), some old lace for a veil, decided to paint my face white with black eyes...I'll go as a dead chick. It's so lame, I mean, "Hey, guys, it's Halloween and I'm going as a dead gothy chick in black. Wow. Oooh, scary." Isn't that lame? It's lame and unoriginal and stupid. In fact, it's so lame, I think I'll entitle my costume, "The death of irony."
posted by Ann-S-Thesia at 10:34 AM ||

Last night's dream special guest starred Courtney Love. I was in Olde Towne Forte Collins (can ya tell I can't stand the place?) and Courtney was seated at an outdoor table by herself near one of those contrived "Olde Weste" saloons in Olde Towne Plaza near Mountaine Streete (can ya tell I really hate superfluous "e"s at the end of words that city planners add to supposedly make the place look stupid classy?) I start up a conversation with her and I'm trying to get her to discuss her philosophical views on the state of the world, but Courtney's sort of all over the place in subject matter and not very focussed. Then, still in Olde TP in Forte C I was with some other people and they were carrying some of my art that I had done back in the 1980s. Most of it was under glass, i.e., it was on paper. Some of it was rather large. I don't know who the people were, but there was a young man and woman, maybe young college age. They were both shorter than me. I also don't know where they were taking my art to either, but it was supposedly good. Until the bad storm struck. It started blowing and raining, and I ducked into a nearby enclosed plaza that was pretty devoid of people. I watched them out of the window and they could barely walk against the storm, so they took shelter near a building's entry way, but they didn't go inside the building. They were hanging on to my art for dear life, but the pictures were blowing all over the place. After the storm subsided I noticed that the glass had shattered on one of them and that the art was on the ground. They were trying to sort it out. I didn't want to have to shell out the money for reframing an old picture of mine and I was hoping they would take care of it. Then I was at Stan's half sister's house (S, who we met this past September) but it didn't really look like her or her house; the person was much younger, like high school or college age. It was like we arrived during some sort of graduation celebration for her, she was constantly receiving bouquets of flowers and cards. I remember seeing the date "1971." I have no idea what it meant. I remember a lot of the color yellow in that latter dream.
posted by Ann-S-Thesia at 9:48 AM ||

Monday, October 29, 2001

Remembers those tv ads of a few years back that showed John Wayne with some product like a soft drink or something, or Fred Astaire dancing with a vacuum cleaner? OK, I don't remember the specific products, but it was something absurd like that...dead guys brought back to life through the magic of computer animation, endorsing products. Well, they've invaded our generation now (the generation of those born in the 60s). The latest reincarnation is noneother than Kurt Cobain in a Smirnoff Vodka commercial. I wouldn't have believed it if I didn't see it with my own eyes while watching Greta's The Point on CNN tonight. Say it ain't so.

Just because you can do something with the magic of computers, doesn't mean you should.

I'd say at least let the deceased be in their graves longer than a mere 7 years before they have to roll over in it.

How truly distasteful and disturbing and dishonorable to the dead.
posted by Ann-S-Thesia at 8:46 PM ||

Another really odd dream about relatives. Will they ever end? Is this like post-vacation trauma? Why can't I dream more about the friends we saw on our trip? Anyway, this dream took place at my grandmother's house in Racine. I think my mom was there, as well as Stan's adoptive mom and his birth father and his wife. My mom was saying something about my grandmother taking out extra fire insurance on the house before she died (which is weird because IRL my grandmother didn't die in that house...she died in Colorado after she sold it)...it was like the house was still in my family. Then someone, either Stan's mom or my mom, was showing me some jewelry that my grandmother had...little rings with stones that I could tell weren't real gems but were neat nonetheless. I wanted to wear them, but they were keeping them in safekeeping...so parental. Then I was realizing that we were ignoring Stan's dad and his wife and that we should invite them in on our conversation or that we should do something with them like show them around the city or something.
posted by Ann-S-Thesia at 9:20 AM ||

Sunday, October 28, 2001

Remembered more of my dream last night. My parents had a whole bunch of paintings they wanted me to remove from my house...lots of them that we didn't have room for in our vehicle...I was practically in tears knowing that if we didn't try to squeeze them in our auto, they'd end up in the dump.

This, unfortunately, is not too far from the truth. If I don't remove those paintings from my parents house, they will throw them in the trash. It's just a matter of time.
posted by Ann-S-Thesia at 12:01 PM ||

So I'm watching West Side Story on AMC last night (our channel 58), getting a kick out of young Dr. Jackoby and Benjamin Horne, and after it's over I flip ahead to channel 59 (Bravo) and lo and behold, what is there but about 45 minutes worth into Twin Peaks Fire Walk With Me. Actually...I don't think those actors (Russ Tamblyn and Richard Beymer) are in that one, but it's a bizarre coincidence nonetheless.

That movie still makes me cry, even the Bravo-ized cut version. Nearly ten years since that show ended...best damn thing on tv...nine years since that movie came out. Nine years ago Stan and I went as demon Bob and Laura Palmer, respectively, for Halloween. Even in 45 degree weather I was sweating up a storm walking around wrapped in plastic.

Still don't have a costume for this year...I don't think I'm going to do anything. Taking a vacation in October really kills the time to plan for H-day.

Had a weird dream last night that was all jumbled up, so I don't know if I'm recording it in the order it went in, but here goes: I was in a large parking lot of a Menards Store or something, and my parents were there, at least I remember my dad, and he was telling me something about not going home right now because it's storming and there's a nuclear war. I told him I had to get home (which was in the same city, wherever that was) and he said I could stay there and get a job nearby. The only mode of transportation I had was a small 18" bicycle that was meant for a child...too small for me to ride. I was also with some people I didn't know, but I specifically remember a woman in her 20s, fairly intelligent, short/medium blonde hair, thin, athletic-ish who was playing with a cat and the cat didn't like the way she was playing with it. I was with this other person and I don't know if it was Stan or my mom (weird hybrid) and they started insulting this woman because she didn't know how to play with the cat. I was really mad how they insulted her, so I spoke up and told (Stan/my mom) off and explained that she probably never had a cat as a pet and that they shouldn't get mad at her because of that because she doesn't mean any harm. I also remember seeing Natasha in my dream, and I was telling the people I was with, "look, she wasn't dead after all."

I don't remember dreaming this intensely about Vladimir after he died. But my Natasha ghost dreams are pretty common lately.
posted by Ann-S-Thesia at 9:09 AM ||

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