Menage à Trois Bingo

I went looking for this a week or two ago, Because Reasons, and couldn't find it. I had started too far forward in time. Today I went looking again, starting from Day Zero of my journal, and found it.

C is for Cookie

For the first time in several weeks I had and remembered a dream this morning, or maybe it was two dreams. I'm not sure what the segue was between the separate segments, if there was one. I think having spent the weekend creatively made a difference.

I have noted my mood is much better since Friday or so. It's not that I was depressed before, but I'm actively happy now. I've even gotten going in the morning much more easily, and arrived at work on time two days in a row! I know that doesn't sound like much, but I had been dragging more and more, arriving later and later, until there were a couple days last week that I didn't arrive until nearly ten a.m.

My weekend of gardening has been very therapeutic for me. I'm so proud of my work, and just getting intimate with Mother Earth is wonderfully refreshing. I have to remember this lesson, and not let other things separate me from my creativity. Now for my next trick--get back to writing morning pages every day and start doing the weekly Artist's Way tasks again. I think I am going to restart completely, since I've lost the thread of it.

On to the dreams.

I dreamed I had been arrested and thrown in jail for selling drugs, along with an older man I did not know. In the cell, while we awaited our interviews with the police, he tried to convince me to confess. I knew I was innocent, and that he was trying to get out of it by blaming me.

My turn for interview came first, and I went with the policeman to his office. He was asking me about my finances, I guess trying to prove that I had more money than my job--at the police station!--would account for. I told him about paying off my mortgage a little extra each month, and really boring things like that. I also told him that the other man had been trying to make me confess but I didn't do anything. A secretary told him "She's a four," which had something to do with my pay grade at the police station. Then he asked me what my DSN was (it's an acronym used at the SLMPD and means employee number). I said "2577". I don't remember whether that is actually my old DSN from when I worked for the SLMPD, but it could well be. After a while they let me go. As I walked out I saw the other guy being taken in for his interview.

I went down to the parking garage to get my car, and on the way I saw him leaning out of an upper window as if he were about to jump. I yelled, "Don't jump!" and his head withdrew. When I got to the parking garage, he was there in a car opposite mine. I thought at first that he was going to ram my car for my having told on him. But no, he pulled back and I saw that the car was an ancient opentopped behemoth, three rows of seats crammed full with seventeen kids--yes, exact number, not exaggeration--and a wife. The older girls and his wife were wearing those stiff bonnet-caps that the Mennonites or Amish wear. He said to me that he had been married and divorced five times. I suppose it was by way of explaining the extreme number of children or the necessity for ill-gotten funds from drug sales, or both.

Then suddenly I was in my garden with curgoth and neeuqdrazil. My saxophone case and some other miscellaneous junk was piled against some of my new plants. I think if there was any connection between this and the previous dream it was that I thought the other guy had done the minor vandalism as revenge. I was concerned for my saxophone, but cg reassured me that it would be fine because it had been inside the case. We started complaining about a new edition of the Amber books that had been bowdlerized beyond recognition, while planting something grassy with long purple plumes similar to pampas grass.

Which may not be, after this, though I do have my LJ set to non-index:

• manticore mucosa


• sapphic hippogriff

I am now trying to figure out a story that could involve a sneezing manticore and a lesbian hippogriff.

I heard earlier this evening that Cookie Monster was appearing on the Martha Stewart show, and this image immediately burst into my head. Now I've finally written it out in full.

Fade in to a perfect grey-white room, with diaphanous white draperies over a large window. In the center stands a long glass-topped dining table surrounded by white-upholstered wrought iron chairs, holding eight fine white porcelain plates and crystal wine glasses, and an understated centerpiece of white roses in a milky glass vase, tied with a sheer white ribbon. Martha Stewart bounces in wearing a tweed suit and ivory blouse. She announces in her most perky voice, "We have a special guest on the show today. Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Cookie Monster!" And behind her, a great blue shaggy monster lumbers in, to tumultous applause. "We're going to make cookies together!" Martha starts toward the kitchen.

Cookie Monster's eyes get even bigger than usual. "COOKIE!" he shouts, and picks up the perfect rose centerpiece, stuffing it into his cavernous mouth. Rose petals and shards of glass spray everywhere. Martha stops dead in her tracks, dumfounded. She stares openmouthed as he shouts "COOKIE!" again, picking up the nearest plate and cramming it whole into his mouth. Porcelain goes flying.

"Cookie Monster!" Martha pleads. He ignores her, gobbling down all seven remaining plates at once, and then picking up the entire table and smashing it into his mouth. She breaks down in tears.

I referred Saturday to a bit of erotica I had written...here it is. Photographs

And the "bath scene", written 1/29-30... I call first bath

That was interesting...I couldn't figure out what to do with my morning pages today, so I went and read Chapter 8 (finally) looking for ideas. In one of the tasks, I found one: "write about me doing something I'm not allowed to do." My topic was 'have professional nude pictures taken of myself'. It turned into erotica, and oddly I had very little trouble writing it. I've always struggled, when writing erotica, with getting myself to use the necessary words. I would sit there for ages trying to think of words for body parts that didn't sound either clinical, crude or cutesy. This time, I just wrote them.

Another thing that may have made some difference is that this was a solo piece, pretty much. Duets (or trios or orchestras) are harder. I have to get into the heads of more people at once.

I missed my morning pages today. Immediately after I got up to do them, the small one woke up and wanted to go potty and then she wouldn't go back to sleep. So instead of morning pages I had morning baby-snuggles. I can't say I really mind, though I did bring my morning pages notebook here to work in the theory that I might write here. I doubt it will happen though. This is not a conducive environment. Telephones ringing, people talking, people asking me questions, wanting to know what I'm doing, annoying muzak, and of course the fact that I'm supposed to be working!

Another character did invade my mindspace this morning. His name is Bernie Fish, and he's sort of a typical Woody Allen character. Quiet, shy, nebbish type, who can't ever quite get anything right. From Brooklyn, of course.

This one, unlike most, had a name first. Usually I think of the character or situation and then pick the name to fit, but this name occurred to me, bringing the character with it. Its etymology is kind of amusing. I was thinking about changing the beneficiary on my life insurance and retirement funds (Ray's name is still on some of them), and probably due to my half-awake state, I realized the word sounds rather like Bennie Fishery. Then I thought Bennie Fish, but decided it should be Bernie for reasons I can't remember.

I was *thisclose* to staying home from work today. My head is so stuffed up and my throat hurts. I can't use the treatment I was applying last night--straight rum, in tiny sips--even though it worked, because of the American taboo about drinking during the working day. I'm not driving a train or flying an airplane here, folks! What's the big deal, as long as the work does not suffer?

I may have to take a mental health day soon, and stay home and write. Today would've been a good choice: the forecasters are predicting a high above 60 degrees. Oh well, I'm here, but I'm still writing a little.

I really really enjoyed talking to dj last night. It was great to just talk. It'd been a long time.

I need to find out if Jill wants to go to lunch. We could even go do our traditional walk-around-the-park that we haven't done since winter started, if the weather lives up to predictions. (And with the thought, I write and send an email.)

I haven't said anything today, been too busy living to write about it. ::grin:: Let's see, what did I do today.
I got up to do morning pages, but owing to being awakened at 2:00 by a car alarm that went off in a piercing continuous tone for ten full minutes, and actually getting out of bed to investigate in case it was a fire alarm, I didn't get up right away when the alarm clock went off. I got up at seven, started writing, and Rosa woke up half-way through. So then I had to feed, clothe, and entertain her until Ray arrived at 10:30 to pick her up. I finally wrote the other page and a half then, and it was actually good because I was much more awake and able to concentrate on what I was doing. That's when I found the affirmations.
At 1:00 I left to go meet Marina and Drew and see Lord of the Rings, and thus the subject line. I was on the edge of my chair for three hours--and I've read the books 30 times! Further comments in another post, and I'll hide them in an lj-cut. I'm too tired tonight.
After the movie I hung out at their house for a while, talking about the movie, books, other movies, politics, etc etc. Marina is pregnant and wasn't feeling well, so I mostly talked to Drew. He and I seem to share the same tastes in books and movies (we're always swapping recommendations and lending each other things to read) so I quite enjoy talking to him.
I'll see them again Tuesday for Christmas dinner and presents.
And just for dessert before bed, a little IM conversation with Liz and another with Jay. And dj too. To top off a very good day.

Even after the rum & coke seemed to make me sleepy I still didn't sleep well. I lay awake for a long while at first. But I did eventually fall asleep and slept until my alarm went off. I got up and thought about writing morning pages but decided that I didn't want to throw off the auguries by starting on the wrong day, so I put my notebook back in the drawer and lay down again for a few minutes. But, unusually for me, I did not fall back to sleep, and I got up and took a shower. I'm ready for work much earlier than normal, but not leaving because Rosa is still asleep. I'll have to wake her in about five minutes if she doesn't wake on her own.