Tag Archives: dreams

Dreams *do* come true

Well.  What can I say.  I blog today as a completely different person than I was a year ago.  This blog has followed my dating life, and my regular life, through ups and downs and random thoughts.  It’s been my savior at times, times when I  needed to get demons out of me.  I’ve met some great blog friends on here, and, looking back through some of the worst blog posts, I don’t regret much of what I’ve written here.  But I’ve entered a new part of my life, and with these changes, I’m blogging less here and more elsewhere.

A year ago, I was single, finally getting over a horrible relationship and breach of trust, wondering if I would ever meet someone special, if I would ever be able to trust again.  A year ago I was unemployed, wondering if I would find a job, if I would ever get to do all the things I wanted to do but didn’t have the money to.  2010 was a very rough year for me, and I was glad that it was over, and hoping for a better year in 2011.

Then I met someone.  Someone special.  And I found that I was still capable of trust.  And I loved, and I was loved, and I was respected and cherished.  Nine months after meeting this man, I married him, and I still sometimes can’t believe how lucky I am to have him in my life.  He’s amazing, funny, caring, strong, loving, supportive, trustworthy, smart, chivalrous.  Everything you could possibly want in a man.  They do still exist.

Two months after getting married, my husband and I made a huge move, to Finland.  We’ve been here two weeks now, and it’s great.  A little cold, but not as cold as you might expect.  I am here on his work permit, which means I don’t have my own, so I can’t work.  My job, my husband tells me, is to write.

Imagine that.  My lifelong dream to not have to work and being able to write full time has come true.

Another lifelong dream – to travel.  And living in Europe, we intend to do exactly that.  France, Italy, Estonia, Sweden, St Petersburg, Prague, Krakow, London, Germany – they’re all on the agenda in the next two years.

To sum up:  I met my Prince Charming and am living my Happily Ever After.  It does happen.

I don’t know how often I’ll post on this blog now, but you never know when I might pop up.

Oh, and I met my Prince online, at OKCupid.  So, sometimes, online dating does work.

Identity Loss?

I have some crazy a$$ dreams, just ask anyone. And I remember quite a bit of detail most of the time (see also, this post). I have a dream dictionary, and while I don’t take the dream interpretation to the bank, I certainly put some stock into the symbols.

Have you ever had one of those dreams where you wake up sad? Like, you are literally crying when you wake up, and it takes you a while to snap out of the sadness? I’m having one of those mornings.

I had this dream that me and a couple of my friends were staying at my parents house. When I woke up (in the dream), my mom and my friend geauxgirl were scurrying around the room, putting things away, getting ready for the day. My mom left, and geauxgirl was griping about her husband, how they had already had breakfast at the house, then they went to this diner and he ordered this whole second breakfast. I got up and went into the kitchen, where my mom was mixing something in a mixing bowl. “Whatcha doin? What’s going on today?” I asked. She said, “Making a cake.” I waited a few seconds and said, “Aaaand?” “And what?” she asked. “And what’s going on today?” I was trying to figure out what to wear.

Silence. She didn’t reply. I sighed and gave up. I saw that my friend was wearing gray slacks, just like a pair I have, so I figured I would wear mine, since it looked like we were doing something a little nicer than jeans. I went back into the bedroom to get clothes and toiletries so I could shower and get ready.

And there was nothing left in the room. All of my stuff had been removed. And now, I could tell that there were guests in the house, and all I was wearing was a robe.

I was incredibly pissed, like, “what the hell, where the hell did all my stuff go?” and I couldn’t go out to ask because of the company, and I was so mad. I started spelling out all the reasons I was mad with those magnetic refrigerator letters for kids – for some reason there was a huge box of them in the room.

I woke from this dream very sad, for some reason. And it’s stayed with me. I looked up what I could in the dream dictionary. There’s a whole section on nudity, but I wasn’t naked, I had a robe on. So I looked up clothes, instead.

Clothing represents your idea of how you look to others, both your appearance and your attitude.

There was no interpretation for missing clothes, but it would be logical to take “missing” or “stolen” at face value and apply that to the clothing symbol.

Do I feel that my appearance, my attitude, how people see me, is gone?

Well, I have lost some of my identity, not working and being home all the time. So, maybe that’s where this is all coming from.

Anyone have any thoughts, insight?

Smug SOB

I had a dream about The Pilot last night. In my dream, it was a Sunday night, about 10pm, and I was cleaning. The doorbell rang, and I wondered who it could be, even had the fleeting thought that it was The Pilot before dismissing it from my mind. I went upstairs and opened the door, and sure enough, it was him. I started to slam the door in his face, but then I stopped. “You know what, I’d really like to hear what you have to say.” He came in and sat down, and he had this incredibly smug smile on his face. He said that it seemed like we were always having to start over from the beginning, and he had gotten tired of it. He mentioned a magazine quiz I had done, and when he read it he knew we were going to end up starting at the beginning again, and he decided he had had it. (Side note – I didn’t take any magazine quiz.)

I kept asking him, “But what about the other woman? The quiz had nothing to do with the fact that you were screwing around with two women!” He would never really answer that, he just kept that smug smile on his face, and at some point I actually reached up to smack him, but he caught my arm. I was yelling at him, demanding that he answer me, and he went into the bathroom and was mumbling something in there, and I said, “I can’t hear you in there. Would you just answer the question honestly?”

And that’s it. That’s all I remember. Hidden meaning anywhere in there? Who knows. All I know is that I can still see that damn smug-ass smile in my mind, and it’s still pissing me off.