Sally Girl

In 1993, when I was six years old, The Nightmare Before Christmas came out.

That year Halloween fell on a Sunday.

My parents didn't want us going trick-or-treating on Sunday night so they took us around town to the different grocery stores and other establishments hosting Halloween events where we collected a good amount of candy and Hardee's coupons. Mmmmm, Hardee's. After feasting on free curly fries and feeling like champs we were treated to a movie at the big theatre!

I fell in love with Tim Burton that night. My sister fell in love with Danny Elfman.

The animation, cinematography, and overall theme of the film resonated with me. Perhaps it's because I'm slightly mad and very weird myself. Maybe it was the Halloween fever. Or the idea of merging two amazing holidays and ensuing creepiness. And perhaps I knew at six years old that I am a Sally girl myself: A bit broken, but capable and constant.

Once I make up my mind to do something I put my whole self into it and never give up; even as I tear myself up. It's an annoying habit.

Since then, I have fallen for Edward Scissorhands, Big Fish, Mars Attacks, Frankenweenie, Batman Returns, Batman Forever, Beetlejuice, James and the Giant Peach, Corpse Bride, Alice in Wonderland, and of course -- Vincent Malloy!

When Lorri brought home a collection of Tim Burton's poetry, I fell for that too.

As a Junior in high school I memorized Voodoo Girl to recite in the presentation of my Unrequited Love Poem Anthology.

Sometimes I doodle Tim Burton style. I can make a decently creepy doodle.

It simply appeals to me.

Of course, there's also the the other side -- the part of me that bakes a great berry pie, sews, crafts, and likes lace and roses.

I really am a rag doll patched from bits and pieces to make an odd whole.

Dreams

I always dream about people I know or will know.

Some of my best friends were met in dreams before I knew them in real life.

Dreams and deja vu. They go hand in hand. I will dream something and months later it will happen. Right down to sounds, smells, textures, and things that I say. Of course, in my dreams there is always something else going on and the scene that comes up later in real life just gets thrown in the mix. I can't see the friend's face until I actually meet them, but deja vu flashes I know that they were the one in the dream.

There is no saying how often this has happened; it changes based on what is happening my life. Sometimes I get it every day for four days. Sometimes I don't have it for several months.

My siblings were always annoyed with my declarations of "Deja vu!" so I stopped vocalizing when it happened.

I've always been amazed at this sneak peak into my future. Why does it happen? How does it happen? What does it mean?

A younger me liked to declare that I would marry whoever could unfold these mysteries. Because a man who knew something like that would know a lot about everything, right?

Now, I prefer to accept my mother's answer from when I was about six: It's just a little reassurance that my life is on track and I am doing what I ought to do.

I love the thrill that accompanies recognizing one of these episodes.

A few weeks have passed since the last time my dream literally came true. Hopefully it was a good omen.

The last two nights have brought interesting dreams. Perhaps tonight can make the third in row. Or perhaps they are deja vu in the making. I will accept either choice. Or both. But I'd hate to be greedy. :)

That Place Between Sleep and Awake

Today I went to Wendover with my mom. She took me on a tour of the town: Post office. High School. Corner Store. The house where we lived when I was two or three.

My first memories took place in that front lawn. The grass was brown and shrubs were scratchy. I chased my little cat, Blacky, around the yard and she waited for me to nearly catch her before setting off again. Dad made a pool in the back yard. We sang Joy School songs and played with Lorri's Glo Worm in the closet with the door closed. Frank and Lorri laughed at me when I cried because a huge beetle crawled all the way up my arm. I would shout at the neighbor's German Shepard's if they barked too much. Frank would hog his Big Bird trike and refuse to allow me a turn. We would sing Popcorn Popping for FHE.

I had no idea how small the town was because I was quite small myself.

On the way out of town I thought of Adam. He went the same route, I suppose. Only, he was in the back of an ambulance and his death had already been pronounced.

Mom and I talked about him a little. What kind of person would he be if he were around now? I think mom had it right when she said that he would either have been really good or really bad because Adam was an all or nothing kind of person.

Who can really say, though. Is eleven years really long enough to map a person's character?

He wanted so badly to be good.

Adam was my baby. When mom couldn't figure out how to make him stop crying -- I could. When he needed or wanted anything -- I gave it to him. When he would get into a passion and start hurting himself or others -- I found out that he just needed to be held for a while.

But, the thing is, when Adam died he healed our family.

We all had to hold on tight to one another in attempt to knit together the gaping hole caused by missing Adam. We became each other's comforters. We learned to feel the Spirit.

It was hard to laugh for months afterwards because it felt like I was betraying my grief. It was hard to smile, think happy thoughts, and dream.

I've dreamed of Adam several times since his death.

These dreams have always left me with peace. I never want to wake up when I dream that I'm holding him again. I can't help but love him still. He was my baby.

The first time I saw the 2003 live-action Peter Pan was the fall after Adam died. I bawled for two hours after that. He is my Boy who will never grow up. Fated to ride the winds of 100 summers and never become a man.

Each year around spring cleaning he can take me away to Never-never land to be his mother. As time goes by and I grow older, he shows up less frequently and will one day be shocked to see that I am very old.

Only, the magic will then be that I really can follow him into the light.

Manic

I haven't been able to get much done today.

I'm too crazy for productivity.

Let's try to calm down before this evening, shall we?

I just keep running around in circles. Hoping for something to happen to get me going but not knowing what that something could possibly be.

I think I'm hungry or something.

I think I really need to get busy and just work through it all.

I'm being followed by a moon shadow
moon shadow-moon shadow
leaping and hopping on a moon shadow
moon shadow-moon shadow
and if I ever lose my hands
lose my plough, lose my land
oh, if I ever lose my hands
oh, well...
I won’t have to work no more
and if I ever lose my eyes
If my colours all run dry
yes, if I ever lose my eyes
oh well …
I won't have to cry no more.
yes, I'm being followed by a moon shadow
moon shadow - moon shadow
leaping and hopping on a moon shadow
moon shadow - moon shadow
and if I ever lose my legs
I won't moan and I won't beg
oh if I ever lose my legs
oh well...
I won't have to walk no more
And if I ever lose my mouth
all my teeth, north and south
yes, if I ever lose my mouth
oh well...
I won't have to talk...
Did it take long to find me
I ask the faithful light
Ooh did it take long to find me
And are you going to stay the night
I'm being followed by a moon shadow
moon shadow - moon shadow
leaping and hopping on a moon shadow
moon shadow - moon shadow
moon shadow - moon shadow
moon shadow - moon shadow

100 Round the Bends

My first interview: complete.

Hopefully I will get a secondary interview and maybe even the job.

That would mean moving up to Logan in the hight of its Autumn glory!

In looking for apartments today I found a darling little room in a darling little house in a darling little neighborhood. The street is lined by deciduous trees that will soon tune gorgeous colors and fall in crunchy heaps! Yep. I like the little room. I've already mentally moved in, so I'd better get the job or else I'll have to mentally pay rent on someplace where I don't really live.

The last question my interviewers posed was, "Why do you want to relocate to Logan?"

I thought about it for only a moment before answering:

"I fell in love with the valley when I rounded the bend and descended from the canyon for the first time back in June. Plus, I'm 23 and want to live on my own."

I think those reasons are good enough.

Y'all keep your fingers crossed for me and I'd keep you posted. That's a promise.

I gots me some issues!

Today I went in for a HIDA scan.

Basically, radioactive isotopes were injected into my vein and made their way into my liver, gallbladder, and duodenum where they reacted with the bile to send out a signal detected by a machine similar to a x-ray scanner.

I had to lay for 40 minutes under this machine as images were taken every minute to gauge how my gallbladder was looking and to rule out blockage of the bile ducts.

After the initial scan, a tube of chemicals was slowly injected into my IV. These chemicals induced cramping of the gallbladder similar to what any person will experience after a meal. Only worse. The technicians warned me of discomfort and checked on me often, offering cold towels and sympathy. And it was uncomfortable; think stomach cramps when something you ate was off a little. But I've been through so much worse that I figured it just hadn't ramped up enough and kept waiting for the real discomfort to begin so I could yell for that cold towel to put on the back of my neck.

After another 40 minutes of laying very still and watching a little screen featuring my gallbladder bright as a Christmas tree and bile levels in my duodenum fluctuate it was all over.

Sitting up from the exam table I expressed to the tech that my only worry was that they wouldn't find anything and I would be pronounced "normal" once again.

He just smiled and told me to wait two days for results.

As it turns out, I've only had to wait less than half a day.

My gallbladder is not emptying correctly. If I did not treat this ailment, I would be looking at years of discomfort and eventual gallstones.

Blech!

I've got an appointment with a surgeon to talk about flinging my malfunctioning gallbladder right out the window. That will show my organs who's boss!

Always on my mind.

My mind is curiously blank.
I sit with open anticipation of thought but those thoughts are thwarted; nipped in the bud as it were, by the candy coating of impossible possibilities for the future.
Patience was never a strong point for me. But I knew several things when I was 18 and one of those is that patience must become a strong point. Or else I will die of boredom.
I'm only ever bored when I'm waiting for something to happen.
Have I ever expressed how much I love oldies music? Well, I do. Exactly the kind of stuff that parents in the 50's and 60's forbade their children from listening to because it would tempt them into doing immoral things. Oohers! Except, for the most part, the songs are sweet and gentle. The tunes are exciting and fun to simply listen to but can also be dance music.
Sometimes all I want in the world is to hear Buddy Holly hiccup. I have simple needs.
Some day I will make creme brulee.
Everyday I try to excite a little love affair with food. I figure, if I can turn mundane food items into something spectacular then I will have earned my bread that day.
I love bread. Mmmmmm.
Fall is the very best season. These days, I wake up with joy to find the air more crisp and delicious, the days a little shorter, and pumpkin season a little closer. Yay for cinnamon!
I love movies. My favorite genres include musicals, suspense , and sports films. I also love spoiling a good book by watching the movie adaptation first. Mostly because if I read the book first I'm always disappointed by the movie. And I like movies.
I love to travel. I feel powerful tromping around the big airports and running to catch a flight.
History is a big draw for me too. Learning why each place in the world is unique and wonderful is a favorite past time. I used to pour over history books, piecing together in my mind how technology and fashion and social upheaval moulded the world into this place where I now reside. Fantastic.
My pinkies are shorter than most people's. They don't reach the the most distal joint of my ring fingers. But, my fingers are uncommonly long, so maybe my pinkies are normal sized and the rest of the digits are the abnormalities. We will never know...
I nearly submitted a picture to the state fair. I didn't know which one to submit and I didn't think of doing it all until too late anyway. Ah well, there's always next year. Right?
I hate overhead lighting in my room. Lamps. All the way.
I'm picky about my bedsheets. I would rather spend $50-$70 on 450 thread count (on sale) than purchase those crusty cheap things from Wal-Mart. Any day. That's just how it is.
My fingers are cold and my lips are all swollen. I think I've thought enough for today.