"Yes I am. I voted for Bush."

I am working here alone with Work Crush Boy until 8. Two hours here alone with him.

I'd like to know why I still have to work the phones next month, even though everyone else gets to pick and choose if they want to do orders or phones.

I'd like to know why I can't seem to stop crying again and why this god damn medicine isn't working.

I'd like to know why I am second guessing everyone's intentions and not believing anyone about anything.

150 grand 150 grand 150 grand
with 150 grand you could BUY A HOUSE and never have to live where you live again. You and Eddie could get bikes. And if that doesn't work...

My room mates both got 100% financial aid so that they can go to school. They're both around age 30, and I think it's really wonderful that she's going for the first time and he's going back. It's fantastic they have goals set for themselves. Yay for them.

Don't they think that I know I have a "nice truck"?

My arms are a little bit sore but not too bad. My neck is stiff. Other than that I'm no worse for the wear. I think I fared so well because I was really concentrating on relaxing. The whole car ride there I was meditating, continued it in the waiting room, and when the doctor got to the needle part of the test it was easy for me to slip back into that state. I'm not saying it didn't hurt...IT DID...but I think my relaxation helped a lot.

White Curtain: Protection. Seeking privacy or something to be displayed.
Children: Innocence. The new self seeking to develop. (uhm HELLO? hi. this is captain obvious)
The lobby of the apartment gave me the feeling of Church: Big happiness. Being loved by God. Spiritual belief.
Fear: Unexpressed love. Self-doubts. Courage (yes please).
Apartment: A part of the total house of self. (the apartment I was drawn to had the religious figures...meaning...that part of my self is scary to me...I've been having doubts lately)
Brown (this was the overwhelming color of the dream...lots of wood and brown tile as well): This is an auspicious color to dream about:signifies freedom, success, money and happy and long-lasting union.
Beige (the tile in the lobby was beige and brown): Everything related with this color denotes neutrality and detachment. There is absence of communication.
Window: Opening. Opportunity. Feelings of being watched. Need for privacy. (I broke out of the window and cut myself trying to escape...)
Book (books scattered throughout the otherwise empty apartment): Guidance. Record keeping.
Girl (had her tongue cut out): Learning to be receptive. Happiness and tranquility. (not good it seems)
Tongue: A tongue is related with pleasure and new experiences. Is a sign of future professional success. (uhm yeah. nice eh?)
Crying (I was crying as was the ex-inhabitant of the apartment): Emotional release.
Country (all of this took place in the country...the town where my dad lives...very much a hick town): Basic needs and desires. Feeling confined by expectations.

My arm is killing me so badly I am on the virge of tears. I can't move. My shoulder, upper arms, forearms, wrists, and hands hurt.

FUCK why is this happening?

Pain pain painnnnnnnn
pain of tools
pain pain paaaaaaaaaaain
pain of tools

My dad and I are in a car, driving somewhere, in the country. I remember there being vast fields. He says, "Erica, there is a new apartment complex in town that is only a hundred dollars a month. You should check it out." "But dad," I said, "I don't want to live in [town he lives in]. It's way too out in the country for me right now." He proceeded to tell me that the place was filled with young funky people like me and that he was sure I would love it. I agreed to at least check it out, so he drove over to the apartments.

We walked in and I lost my breath. The "lobby" was absolutely beautiful. The tile was amazing; it was very dark brown and cream with gold edges. The room was wood from floor to ceiling, all ornately carved and very shiny. The thing that struck me most was that the room was round. A circle which housed everyone's front doors, which were up from the ground about four steps. The apartments themselves were directly off of this lobby. Everyone had a sort of "porch" even though it was in this round room. They looked more like big shelves to me. Most of the people used their space for a chair or plants or something, but this one particular apartment had built a shelving system on their porch. The shelves held hundreds and hundreds of statues...all the Virgin Mary. There were candles lit, and the light was flickering eerily off of her face in hundreds of places. She was holding different types of flowers. I was drawn to this apartment.

Dad looked in the paper and told me that apartment was having an open house that day as it was coming to the end of its lease and the current residents were not going to renew. I shrugged and asked if we could go look at it, making sure he didn't notice my intense interest. We walked up the few steps to the front door and knocked, but the door was open and many people were already inside. It was almost like a party, it seemed, because everyone was laughing and holding plastic cups. "Wow," I thought, "this place is amazing." And it was. All wood floors. Cathedral ceilings. Skylights. Beautiful textured walls. The bedroom was off the main living room, and up a few stairs. There was no door, only pure white sheer fabric. I could see through it and into the room, which was lit with sunlight. The room seemed to be glowing. I fell in love. In my gut, something didn't seem right. I mean, a beautiful apartment for $100 a month?! No way, no how...even in this little town.

We left. I can't remember if it was the next day or a few days later, but I went back on my own this time. I walked into the circular lobby and looked for the Mary statues, but they were gone...replaced with Buddha statues placed exactly as the Mary statues were. Different colors, shapes, sizes. Candles flickering against the different surfaces. I remember thinking (however you think when you're in the dream state) that I must have been going crazy to think those were Mary statues before. I shrugged it off and went to the door. Knock. Knock. Knock. The door opened as if the wind gently blew it open, not like someone took hold of the handle. I peeked in and asked if anyone was home, but the entire apartment was empty. Only a few papers and odd books were left laying on the floor. The bedroom was still in tact, if I remember correctly. I know because I peeked. I left, went to the leasing office, and signed a lease so I could move in immediately.

The next day I went back and the statues had changed yet again. This time they were Hindu gods and goddesses. I didn't take as much notice this time. I walked in the door and there was a really strange cold feeling that raced through me, but I went in anyway. I thought I'd finish cleaning up before I actually moved my stuff in. I walked through the hallway into the living room and the people that used to live in the apartment were there. The white man was holding his Chinese wife by the hips as she was bent over reaching for the bedroom. She was screaming in terror that she had to go in...she had to go in. The man was pleading with her and holding her back. Don't go don't go don't do it, he said over and again. Finally she fell to the floor in a ball and cried. I turned on my heels and left confused.

I don't remember what I was doing between visits, I only remember entering and exiting this apartment building.

The next visit, the statues were completely gone. I had a key now because it was my apartment. No one was there. I remember feeling like I was being followed and watched, but I didn't know why. I went into the tiny tiny tiny bathroom. When I say tiny, I mean I had to sit sideways on the toilet if I was going to go. I sat down. I heard noise in my kitchen so I got up and went to investigate. Tons of children, ranging from age three to about 12, were playing and laughing. They were walking on the walls and crawling on the ceiling. It sounded like a carnival and they were all eating cotton candy. I smiled and wondered what was going on, but the next thing I knew one of the children screamed. She was about 5 or 6 with cute ringlets in her hair. She was wearing a pale yellow dress. Her mouth had been slashed and her tongue cut out. She was bleeding and spitting up massive amounts of blood. I tried to go to her, but something stopped me like a wall. I called out to her to come to me, but she couldn't. She died. The next thing I know, the window above the sink shattered into two large pieces, each piece flying out of the window casing and into the stomach of a little child. One of them was a boy about 8, wearing knickers and a white shirt. He was pinned to the wall like a piece of paper to a cork board. I felt helpless. The children were dying one by one and I couldn't help them or stop it. Hell, I didn't even know why this was happening. All of the children were dead by the time I was allowed to leave. Each died in a different but equally horrific way.

I ran out the door sobbing and shaking. I tried to go through the lobby door but of course it was locked. I knocked on people's doors but no one answered. I finally found an open door, ran in, and climbed out the window. I was cut on my hand but I didn't care. I ran. I got my dad and a group of people, but I don't know who they all were. No one believed me but they came anyway. As soon as we all walked in the door, the people that came with me died one by one similar to the way the children had died. I wasn't being hurt or attacked. I just couldn't help them. There was so much blood. So many screams. I left and got more people to help, this time including a priest. The priest went to the door of the apartment and turned and left because he felt evil. I pleaded for his help but he said he just couldn't do it and left.

So there I was with hundreds of dead bodies in my new apartment. Blood was everywhere. Children were dead. I went into the bathroom and sat on the back of the toilet so I didn't have to put my feet in blood. I knew that I wasn't being hurt on purpose...as if the person that held the key was immune or something. My face in my hands, I reminded myself that this was just a dream and I could wake up if I wanted. So I did.

come here
stand in front of the light
stand still
so I can see your sillouette
I hope
you have got all night
'cause I'm not done looking,
no, I'm not done looking yet

each one of us
wants a piece of the action
you can hear it in what we say
you can see it in what we do
we negotiate with chaos
for some sense of satisfaction
if you won't give it to me
at least give me a better view

come here
stand in front of the light
stand still
so I can see your sillouette
I hope
you have got all night
'cause I'm not done looking
no,
I'm not done looking yet

I build each one of my songs
out of glass
so you can see me inside of them
I suppose
or you could just leave the image of me
in the backround, I guess
and watch your own reflection superimposed

I build each one of my days out of hope
and I give that hope your name
and I don't know you that well
but it don't take much to tell
either you don't have the balls
or you don't feel the same

come here
stand in front of the light
stand still
so I can see your sillouette
I hope
you have got all night
'cause I'm not done looking
no, I'm not done looking yet

I seach your profile for a translation
I study the conversation like a map
'cause I know there is strength
in the differences between us
and I know there is comfort
where we overlap

I thought life after teenager-dom was supposed to be easier than ever. Ya get a job, ya move out, ya get a car. You come and go as you please and hang out with friends as much as you want without your mother asking you if you think she runs a flop house. Ya meet someone, fall in love, get married, buy a house, have kids, and live happily ever after...right?

No one ever tells you that people lie. If they taught that in 9th grade Civics class, I must have been absent that day. I had no idea how many questions I'd have without answers. And of course they're not easy questions like "Where are my shoes?" OH NO! They're hard questions like, "Do I really want to have kids someday and just add another life to this fucked up pool of humanity?" I can find nowhere in my handbook that it warns you about becoming bitter. Not a single letter of negative vibe through the whole damn thing.

Today's class was a writing class. "Effective Business Writing" to be exact. I was the only person in there that ever writes for enjoyment (outside of work). I was the only one that finished the word puzzles the first time through. I was the only one that likes it noisy when she writes. Odd (wo)man out yet again. Sigh.