Archive for May, 2010
My mad plan to fool my subconscious into thinking I quit a job I had when I was fifteen (in order to stop myself from having a recurring dream about the place) has been foiled by the post office!
Apparently the only listing for Adventures in Video that I could find is no longer valid. I knew I shouldn’t have put that return address on there. My subconscious never would have known the letter went undelivered otherwise. Drat!
The good news is that I haven’t had a dream about working at the video store since I wrote the letter, so perhaps all of this focused attention on the issue has resolved the situation in my head once and for all. I guess we’ll have to wait and see. The bad news is that today I came across the inspiration for what is sure to be my next recurring dream, since I already can’t get it out of my mind:
Edward Mordrake is claimed to be a 19th century heir to one of the peerages in England who had an extra face on the back of his head. According to the story, the extra face could neither eat nor speak, but it could laugh and cry. Edward begged doctors to have his ‘devil twin’ removed, because, supposedly, it whispered horrible things to him at night…
Oh dear god.
The Uptown Theater always has some interesting signage, like when I came across this last year:
But this one had me perplexed. It took me awhile to figure it out. Can you?
Answer in the comments.
I had a couple scotches-on-the-rocks before I decided to update my Outlook calendar last weekend, and apparently I made a few additions and left myself a couple motivational notes, which I discovered today:
At least I marked it as a private appointment.
And for the record, I’m not a self-flagellating alcoholic or some mean drunk in a funk. On the contrary, the scotch was just part of a celebration that also involved bow-ties and tuxedos, so it was all perfectly appropriate and socially acceptable. Plus, I remember giggling to myself at the time. Whatever my excuses may be, it does indeed act as a motivator of sorts in the clear light of sobriety. This fat bastard is gonna get himself to the gym!
I haven’t talked about my good friend T-Bone in a while, mostly because he had a baby and turned into Mr. Mom and doesn’t really leave the house anymore. It’s definitely a new era in the T-Bone saga, which I suppose can only be considered a good thing, although it has resulted in a serious drop in bloggable nights out for danny.
Fortunately for T-Bone, he’s making lots of new friends. Tattooed friends. Sad-clown-tattoed friends. Sad-clown-with-nipples-for-noses-tattooed friends.
He looks like he needs one of the tissues with the infused lotion. No wonder he’s crying.
Oh craps, I just realized that I missed T-Bone’s birthday in April while I was in New Zealand. No wonder he doesn’t call me anymore.
I’ve been combing through my videos of New Zealand in an effort to put together a vacation montage with which I can torture my friends and relatives. It’s mostly just quick pans of beautiful scenery, but then I came across this forgotten oddity, which apparently started out as a recreation of the closing credits from Little House on the Prairie and then in the middle somehow morphed into my own personal adaptation of The Sound of Music.
I’m not sure either recreation was entirely successful, but the mountains of New Zealand sure are beautiful, and I can’t believe I was able to run uninterrupted for that long without throwing up. Or falling down. Or passing out.
My most common recurring dream is the one where I suddenly realize I’m on the schedule to work at the video store this weekend and I have to find my uniform. I have this dream regularly — at least a couple times a week — and I usually wake up stressed out and needing to repeatedly assure myself that I don’t work there anymore. I’ve had quite a few jobs in my time, and I haven’t worked at the video store in nearly 15 years, but for some reason that particular work experience seems to dominate my subconscious. Sure, it was the best job ever — I basically just watched movies by myself for four years straight while the porn addicts perused the back room — but that was forever ago. Why can’t my mind let it go?
Then C-Minus and I were chatting the other day, and she revealed that she has the same recurring dream about her stint at the Applebees: she suddenly realizes she has to waitress this weekend and needs to locate her uniform. She wakes up thanking her lucky stars that it’s all just a dream and that she won’t need to go back to the endless refilling of Diet-Pepsies anytime soon. It is a curious thing, to both have the same recurring dream, especially since it was my most favoritest job ever and her least favoritest. What was the common connection?
But then suddenly we had a simultaneous epiphany: I never actually quit the video store — I just told them not to put me on the schedule for a while and then never called them again — and she had never really quit the Applebees — she just took herself off the schedule until the computer auto-terminated her. So the hypothesis is that this isn’t about being obsessed with the best or the worst job ever. This is about lack of closure.
And the dream has really been plaguing me lately. It’s become even more regular, and it even invaded my dreams while I was across the planet in New Zealand, where my subconscious should have been focused on more Middle-Earthy things.
So I’ve decided to put an end to it. And the only way I can think to do that is to officially quit the video store. Unfortunately, my particular mom-and-pop video store chain went belly-up over a decade ago, but I did find an address for an Adventures in Video on Google, which I think might be enough to fool my subconcious and to finally satisfy my need for closure. So I’ve drafted a letter:
To Whom it May Concern:
This is my formal notification that I am resigning from Adventures in Video as Shift Supervisor. September 16th, 1997 will be my last day of employment.
I genuinely appreciate the opportunities I have been given here, and wish you much success in the future.
Signed, sealed and delivered. It may confuse the hell out of whoever receives it, but it also might stop the madness on my end. As you can see, I even found my old uniform, so as to quash that part of the dream into pieces as well. It will be an interesting experiment, and I encourage C-Minus to do the same.
My second most common recurring dream is the one where I realize that I haven’t graduated from college, that I have one class left, and that I have forgotten to attend it for the entire semester. My recent epiphany about dreams and lack of closure has led me to believe that this dream is probably due to the fact that I skipped out on all the pomp and circumstance of my graduation ceremony and never even had a party. So if this Adventures in Video Termination Letter solution pans out, I might just have to stage a mock graduation or at least throw a party in honor of my graduated self in the near future. Maybe I’ll even hang my diploma on the wall. You gotta attack these things from all sides.
I’m still unsure of how to stop the dream where my teeth become loose, crumble and fall out. Unless I just go ahead and get them all pulled and replace them with some dentures. Perhaps I’ll wait for the results of this experiment before committing to that, though.
I gave this to my mother for mama’s day:
She seemed a tad confused at first, not understanding that the image was photoshopped. She asked how I stuck my lips out so far, like I was a real life Daffy Duck cartoon or something. That she could be so easily fooled made me frown a little on the inside, but then I decided it was just a testament to my awesome ‘shopping skills.
If you’d like a printable version suitable for making out with, just let me know and I will email you a copy.
I’ve been a little upsidedown since returning from vacation. My schedule is all screwy and my head feels blank and my sense of humor is off. Maybe that’s why I laughed for a solid 15 minutes at this depiction of Jesus that an internet acquaintance of mine took at his local funeral home.
Lazarus seems a tad apprehensive to exit the tomb.
Best Jesus Ever has made me laugh again. Thank you, Best Jesus Ever.