One Big Giant Itch

One Big Giant ItchOne Big Giant Itch

This past weekend I had endeavored to get a lot done outside. One of the things I endeavored to do was to mow the lawn. Well, as things often are, it was difficult, probably because I couldn’t get the mower started. I was ready to be a lawn-mowing champ, but one can only be a lawn-mowing champ if one actually mows the lawn.

I have a lawn mower, a push mower, and it’s new. I took it out of the room it had been stored in and pulled the string. Nothing. I tried again. I tried priming it. I tried letting it sit and pulling the string again. Nothing. Nothing. Also more nothing.

I Googled on the internet and it said that maybe my gas was old. Good point, my gas probably was old. I had to leave the house anyway for a showing, so I decided to skedaddle away to Wal-mart. I bought some things I needed for my yard work and also some new gas, and came back home. I put new gas in the mower.

…and when I pulled the string…nothing happened.

Nothing. Nothing again and nothing some more. I tried everything in my limited knowledge of mowers to try to get the thing to start. My only ideas are either that my mower is having a problem or that I should generally pull my arm out of the socket each time I try to start it. I’m not sure which case it could be. Maybe my arm needs to come out of the socket to get it started, who knows.

Needless to say, I didn’t get the lawn mown.

No matter, I would do other yard work. I weeded the cactus bed, ouch. No matter what gloves I wear when I weed the cactus bed, I always get cactus stickers in my fingers.

Then I decided I would wear another circular bed in the yard. I pulled a bunch of stuff out of it. Then I decided to dig up the flower bed beside my house. I dug it up, three times. I took rocks out of it. I mixed in some new soil. At Wal-mart I had bought some Gladiolus bulbs to put in this bed. I planted those.

After this I decided to move some irises. I had a bunch of irises that were growing outside of a bed. I dug those up. I planted them beside the house. I planted some in the circular bed. I also dug up some odd little plant that was also just growing in the grass. It’s an actual flowering plant, not some random thing. I just don’t know what its name is.

I was worn out. I was sore everywhere. My toenails were even sore. I went to water my newly planted plants, and as it turns out, my hose was all busted up. I got in the shower and back to Wal-mart I went. I had to buy more hoses. My good hoses were ruined. No doubt because they weren’t taken care of very well.

I came back from Wal-mart and watered my plants. I decided to relax after this as I was about dead.

The next day, I noticed some red marks on my arms. Yep, poison ivy. It wasn’t too itchy that day, but it increasingly became itchier. Honestly, the best part about having poison ivy is putting it under scalding hot water. It really helps with the itch. It’s a lot worse than the picture now, but isn’t too itchy because I’ve been on this rodeo before. I know how this stuff works. It’s getting dried out or so help me.

Believe it or not, I’ve been using a lot of Dawn dish soap on this.

Mostly, I feel gross as if I’m developing some weird scaly skin, but I know it’s just poison ivy and it will go away. I just have to deal with the nasty itch until it does. It’s like many things in life, it’s annoying until it isn’t anymore, but it’s a pain in the butt as long as it’s annoying.


My Imaginary Boyfriend

My Imaginary BoyfriendMy Imaginary Boyfriend

Last night, I was sleeping, as a person does in the night-time and I had a weird dream. I dreamed that I had a boyfriend. I know it’s so weird that I would have a boyfriend right? Must be a dream. We were like in high school or college or something, and we got along pretty well. We had a class together and I would sit beside him and put my legs on his lap.

One day the teacher assigned seats and I quickly took my legs off of my dream boyfriend and sat up straight. I didn’t get my seat switched, but the teacher made sure to say specifically that we weren’t supposed to put our legs on other people. What is this kindergarten? I can put my legs on my imaginary boyfriend if I want to. Moreover, it’s funny that the teacher specifically mentioned it. Apparently, it was a problem.

Knowing me, it probably was a problem. During the course of my life, I’ve put my legs across some laps.

At this point, imaginary boyfriend has really short hair, almost shaved. It’s darker. He wants me to sing for him and I’m like, “Nah, not that song.” Come to think of it, maybe we were in a chorus class? Or a drama class? It was something laid back.

So imaginary boyfriend and I somehow have a disagreement.

Imaginary boyfriend ends up going to a funeral for someone he knows, I don’t know who. and I decide to go for moral support. It took me a lot of effort to find imaginary boyfriend at this funeral alright. So I get there to give imaginary boyfriend a hug of consolation and he’s like, “No way!”

At this point, imaginary boyfriend has dark curly hair. I guess he grew his hair out.

He says, “I know I probably shouldn’t do this to you…”

I don’t know what he’s doing to be specifically, but I come back with, “Yeah, you shouldn’t.”

Then I walk away in a huff.

So he broke up with me…or I broke up with him? We broke up with each other? I don’t know why imaginary boyfriend was mad at me in the first place.

Holy, heck, even my dreams have to be all dramatized sometimes. I have an imaginary boyfriend, or a dream boyfriend, and he breaks up with me. I don’t even know a guy with dark curly hair.

What in the heck did I do to imaginary boyfriend to cause him to break up with me? Or maybe it was all him. Maybe he was just a dork. Goodness, I don’t know.

If I see a guy with dark curly hair and he asks me out, I’m going to think about this dream and I’m going to be like, “…um, yeah you already broke up with me in a dream and now you’re asking me out?! The nerve!”

At least I sort of recognized that I deserved better. I knew he what was up to with my, “Yeah, you shouldn’t,” comment. If my imaginary boyfriend is going to be all wishy-washy, then maybe I should just go find a different imaginary boyfriend, or maybe just dream about something else, like how the other night I dreamed about how I could fly and I was trying to fly away from dragons and there were single-wide trailers involved and somehow, I found a flying minivan. I’m not on crack, I promise.

Things I Used to Dream About

Things I Used to Dream AboutThings I Used to Dream About

Throughout my life, I’ve had many recurring themes in my nightly dreams. There have been places I’ve been to in my dreams multiple times. There have been situations I’ve dreamed about multiple times. I’ve dreamed about my teeth or my hair falling out one too many times while sleeping, and quite frankly, I wish my brain would give it a rest, because those dreams are pretty terrifying to me.

Those types of dreams pop up every so often, but something I don’t dream about anymore is my dad. I used to dream about him every so often. I used to dream that he was alive, somehow. In those dreams I was always looking for him or there was some mystery involved. It was never a day-to-day normal type of situation, because I never had a day-to-day normal type of situation with my father.

Dreams are often based on our realities, and sure, maybe you’re flying in that dream, but so many other things are exactly like something you would do in real life or exactly like something you would say in real life.

My father died when I was young. He died in 1995. I wasn’t even ten yet. I don’t remember being with him, my mom left him, had to leave him, when I was only around two-years old. It wasn’t that my mother just wanted to up and leave her marriage to my father; it was that the situation was too bad to stay in for her, and for me. So anyone who can say my mom just wanted to be out of a marriage or didn’t try hard enough can go shove it.

I loved my father, but he had problems. I understood that. He had problems that made having a family life downright impossible. Even as a kid, I knew it was silly to fantasize about both my parents being together. It was silly because it would never happen. I was wise enough to know there were problems that couldn’t be fixed.

When my father died from cancer, I still occasionally had dreams that he was alive somehow. I didn’t get to go to his funeral. I only remember seeing him once before he died. I’ve never seen his grave. I’ve never seen the little bit of info that would say his name and the fact that he was born in 1960 and died in 1995.

I guess because I never really had a father, I would dream that he was alive. I wanted to have someone to treat like a father. Really, the closest thing to my father is my grandfather. I do have a step-father, but we have never really been close. I don’t really know what it’s like to have a dad.

At some point, I just quit having dreams about my father. I don’t know when that was. Was it when I was a teenager? Was it when I got married? Was it sometime after I got married? I don’t know.

I guess I quit needing the idea of a dad. I guess maybe I grew up enough not to want it as I had.