heredity

It's funny what we pass on to our kids, and I say that sitting at the computer eating cold chicken fried rice out of a Chinese take out container.

For breakfast.

I remember walking in the kitchen as a kid and seeing my dad lean against the counter in his bathrobe with the little white take out box in one hand and a fork in the other scarfing down cold fried rice or chow mein. I thought it was horrible that he did that. Gross.

But anytime we have Chinese take out you can find me eating cold fried rice out of the carton the next day. Heredity.

It causes me to wonder what bothersome traits I may pass on to K... I don't have to search too hard to see ways in which she has already taken after me... she has my imagination.

That can be a beautiful thing, and as I watch her play with dolls or just a piece of paper and hear her whispering secrets to the world she's created I'm proud of her. When she sits on a chair swinging her legs loudly singing lyrics she's made up on the spot I glow with pride. When she dictates a poem to me in hopes I'll write it down for her I marvel at her innovation and when she writes and illustrates a fantastic story with nothing more than a pencil and a pad of post it notes I am awestruck...

But all that greatness, it comes at a price. With all the beautiful wanderings of her mind come the maudlin cries of a girl whose mind can reach the farthest, darkest corners of this universe... and then venture a little further. Her nightmares and scary imaginings are every bit as vibrant as her dreams and stay with her just as long...

I've explained to her, and I think she understands, that with the good there is often some bad. Things have a way of balancing themselves out. That it's hard to grasp happiness when you haven't known sorrow. Fearlessness without Fear. Day with out Night...

I'm glad she has such an active imagination, such a creative mind... but sometimes I wish she'd just pick up a carton of cold fried rice instead...

only the blue in my eyes...

I am blanketed in silence.

It isn't that there's no sound, that there's nothing to hear. I look out over the dimly lit house and know that there should be house noises. The scuffle of my feet on the cold stone floor, the friction of my long white nightdress as it brushes against the sofa.

The sound isn't gone... but my hearing is. I decline to be distressed by this and move on to other things. I can't hear this world, but I can see it, in black and white with all the grays in between. My flesh is ashen in the dim light and just seeing its dull dead color sends a shiver up my spine. I look into the towering windows that line this room...

During the day this could be a glorious sun room. I wonder if my cat would find a sunbeam to curl up in. I wonder if I would. It's night though, the very darkest night, and instead of the warming rays of some long forgotten sun I see my own reflection in the glass. The night sky has made it more of a mirror than a window and I can't help but stare back into my pale blue eyes. Funny that they're the only thing in this world that hold any color. My hair is black. My skin is gray. My lips like charcoal, but my eyes remain the same pale denim color that they are in life...

Suddenly the scene is too much. I can not stand the stone floor and the foreign sofas. I can not stand the mirrored windows and the suffocating silence.

With bare feet I run for the glass door and just as I grip its handle it shatters with all the windows around it following suit and I bleed.

Not red blood, blood the same charcoal gray as my lips.

I float above myself watching as the blue of my eyes, the only bit of color I had left, fades to gray.


***

This post was written in response to David's question on Weekend Wandering; What is your dream?

I wonder if he didn't have something different in mind, but when I read the question this dream, a reoccurring dream of mine since childhood, came to mind immediately.

If you'd like to answer this in a post on your own blog please link back to his Weekend Wandering post and leave him a comment to let him know. While you letting people know... leave me a comment to let me know as well... I'd love to see what you have to say.

turkey and cheese eggle...

I had a dream. I did. Really I did. It's true.

I had a dream last night that I was on America's Next Top Model and I made it all the way to the end when they send the girls off to a foreign country and I was worried that I didn't have a passport so I went to Trya and said "Oh my god" at this point I sobbed "I can't go, I don't have a passport." She reassured me that it was alright. They had obtained a passport for me, I was going to some random country... I began to walk out of the room when I said "But what about K? Did you get a passport for her?" Suddenly Tyra began to cry, oh no, she had forgotten, they knew that was part of the deal, we were leaving in 10 days, we needed to try to expedite things, quickly, lets get K into hair and make up so we can get her a passport photo, bring in the curtains and the camera, we have to take a photo and get a passport because Camikaos won't go without her kid....

And then I woke up because Mr. Kaos was running to the coffee shop. "I'm out of coffee." he explained, and did I want anything?

Yes. Yes please. I will take a turkey and cheese eggle, thank you, it sounds so good.

And that my friends is how I got what I wanted for breakfast.

PS: I should note that it was really more of a nightmare, I woke up sweaty and horrified.

dream marriage

Last night Mr. Kaos tossed and turned and turned and tossed and didn't sleep. We, all three of us, have a cold. K seems to be coming through it fine, Mr. Kaos is getting better, but I feel like a zombie.

Still I felt bad to see him so exhausted this morning so I ushered K out to wrap a present and make a card for her friend's birthday and we left him slumbering peacefully... or so I thought.

Around 11 AM we heard a great stirring and he wandered into the dining room without any pants looking psychotic and disturbed. He snuggled me briefly then ran upstairs. I was wearing my headphones and listening to an old episode of TWiT(the one with the Tiki Bar TV folks) at the time so I just kind of sat there completely befuddled until he came back down the stairs in pants a few moments later.

He hugged and kissed me then told me he loved me. I had to pause my show so I could get to the bottom of things. We're a lovey dovey affectionate couple but not when one of us just woke up. In the first 30 minutes of wakefullness it's hot sex or please don't touch me.

What was happening?

I told him I still wasn't feeling well and wondered out loud if he could take K to her birthday party today so I could get some rest.

"Of course baby, anything for you" and a kiss on my forehead with a great big hug was his reply.

HUH??? Where was I the Twilight Zone?

K started asking questions about the theme for the party and whether or not the other kids would be wearing costumes (to her the day is hardly worth living if a costume isn't donned). I told her it was a jungle theme so she could wear a safari ensemble. She started going on about dressing like Ursula from George of the Jungle or Jane from Tarzan... I told her Ursula would have to do since we didn't own a bustle.

Mr. Kaos followed me into her room as I sorted through her mountain of clothing for khaki's and thanked me again for letting him sleep in. This is when he wove me a wondrous tale, a story, the dream he'd had shortly before waking that turned into a nightmare.

It started with him playing the drums for some work event, which is not an uncommon occurrence, but that's where the dream took a turn for the worse. When he got off stage instead of receiving the normal accolades from his coworkers they detailed for him how very much he sucked.

Disappointed and hurt he made his way home to his loving family only to find a hive of activity as I was packing to leave him. My mother was there trying to mediate things but doing a shit job of it because with no explanation I said it was over and left him alone to raise K.

At this point my dear friend (hi M) returned from England. He wore a mod wig and spoke in an exaggeration of his normal British accent. He tried to entertain Mr. Kaos while getting to the bottom of what happened. Many of my friends apparently made cameos, non could understand why I left.

Then he woke up.

I hugged him and told him it was all fine, I'm not going anywhere...

he said "All the same, no more housework for you ever again"

I guess it's a good thing we're Agnostic...