2 posts tagged “being lost”
1. The dream
As previously mentioned, being lost is my biggest fear.
But last night, I dreamed I was in New York and I wasn't lost at all. I wasn't in danger of being lost. I knew exactly where I was going at all times. I was telling other people how to get places. I was in control.
Normally, if I were dreaming that I was lost, I would call that an anxiety dream. So what's it called when I'm most decidedly unlost? Do I have less anxiety? Do I feel like I've been found? Do I feel like I know where I'm going? I'm quite baffled by this dream, but in a good way. Have I had a breakthrough on my phobia? Or are things just going pretty damn super these days, and I've lost that anxious edge?
2. The Web site
So, the distraction of the day at work was this Web site.
We were laughing so hard, we were almost crying. I think to get the full gist, you really must look at the gallery. And this costs $20? Damn it! Why didn't I think of this? I've decided the only way to make any money off the Internet is to execute the stupidest idea you can come up with. I'll be taking suggestions, although I'm probably pretty good at thinking up something stupid, too.
3. The Thompson Twins
I was listening to my Sirius radio today on the way to work and realized I was halfway through "Doctor! Doctor!" before I turned it. And then it dawned on me: "I truly hate the Thompson Twins." I hate every song they've ever done. I turn the station every time they litter "First Wave: Classic Alternative." And let me tell you, they litter that station a lot. I had never really thought of it before, but jesus, I really hate that band.
4. Glam Rock
I like a lot of glam rock bands: The New York Dolls (Well, they're the closest thing the U.S. had to glam rock) T Rex, David Bowie, Eno-era Roxy Music. Hell, I'll even give it up for Mott the Hoople. And it was the precursor to the '70s punk movement I hold so dear. But today, as I was driving to work and a Bowie song came on the radio (pretty much immediately after I changed it from the Thompson Twins) I was thinking about how there's one aspect of the glam rock movement that's really, really, really stupid.
I can accept the androgyny of it all. I can accept the over-the-top clothing. But I really can't wrap my head around all this outer space stuff. There was all that pretending you were a star child/space alien/ emperor of another planet crap. I remember seeing an interview with a glam rock fan circa 1971 with a glitter star on her face, talking about how we were all from space and Bowie was the leader of the space ship or something like that. Why did anybody buy this? Can't you just listen to "Space Oddity" without thinking Bowie is from another planet and we are all his alien minnions?
I've bought into a lot of things in my life (see: 1990 Sisters of Mercy goth phase), but damn, I've never bought into anything quite as ridiculous as the space aspect of glam rock. Of course, I also didn't have '70s era drugs, either.
5. The socks
I am currently wearing the world's ugliest socks.
I told you. They're u-g-l-y. But they sure are warm. And they're slippery. I've been running and sliding all over my living room floor like an 8-year-old. The cats are scared.
6. The Wagonwheel
My Thanksgiving was good. We ate a lot. We drank a lot. The highlight was perhaps when my friend Dott interviewed a wagonwheel using a turkey leg as a microphone. I captured this on film.
After I took this picture, she shrieked "Oh! That's my new MySpace photo! Oh, God? Did I just say that would be my new MySpace photo?"
Did I mention we drank a lot?
In 1991, when I was a mere pup, some friends and I packed up in my bitchin' Dodge Shadow and made the 140-mile trek to Dallas to see the Cure.
We were smart about it, getting directions on how to get to Texas Stadium. Unfortunately, we weren't smart enough to get directions on how to get home. And, you know, this was before the Internet was so prevelant, so we didn't have the resources to just MapQuest the damn thing.
We had a great time at the concert. One of the best shows ever. And then, on the way back, we got lost. We didn't have the smarts (OK, we were 16) to ask how to get to U.S. 287 North. We didn't know that I-35 north would take us there, or 114 west was an option. Nope, we would just go to random gas stations and ask "How do you get back to Wichita Falls"? And, because it was 1991, it wasn't like we had a cell phone (not even a Saved by the Bell brick phone). And for some reason, it never dawned on us to just call our parents collect.
Needless to say, we drove all over Dallas. And we ended up on one of the roughest streets in the city. At 4 a.m. On a Saturday night. We were sitting at stop lights and pimps were knocking on my window. Tears were streaming down my face.
Eventually we made it back to our houses right about dawn. But the damage was done. Since then, one of my biggest fears is being lost. A variation of that is not knowing where I am. After that, I could never enjoy another concert in Dallas, because I was obsessed that we wouldn't make it back without getting lost, even though it never happened again. One of my biggest concerns about moving to Vegas was getting lost in town. When I was in New York and my friend had to work, sheer panic overtook me because I didn't want to get lost. I obsessively MapQuest everything now. I never try new routes. I don't like being in a new city unless someone is with me who can point the way (Or help me figure out the ever-present map). It's really a problem.
Therefore, when I was reading an article about corn mazes the other day, I could truly think of nothing I would want to do least. I mean, look at this:
Why yes, that does sound entertaining to me. I would love love love to experience this. I was thinking that this would be my own personal version of hell. I can just see myself collapsed in a pile right near the little scarecrow crying because I can't get the hell out of this stupid thing.
The maze I read about had a big hole in the center and the object was to get to the center, then get back out. I'd be lost twice. That sucks.
I would never do this. Ever. I would be in there for hours before I just finally had a nervous breakdown.
So, on Halloween, you can keep your ghosts, goblins, draculas and werewolves. You want to scare me? Take down all the street signs for my trip to work. Or maybe make the parking lot of my apartment complex one giant corn maze. *Shudder*
