Living Seoul

Every time I try to lie, sneak around or do anything I’m not supposed to be doing I get caught. I can’t get away with anything. It’s an unfortunate fact of my life, but I like to think it makes me a better person…a more upstanding citizen maybe. Today I got a ticket for my inspection sticker! I knew it was going to happen. I’ve been worrying about it for a couple months but kept telling myself the chances of getting caught were so slim. But I knew all along, for me, the chances were high. And I’d just called my mom yesterday to tell her I’m coming home AGAIN this weekend to get it taken care of. Then the next day I get a ticket. If getting a ticket didn’t suck enough, my BOSS was in the car with me. It was actually okay because she made me feel better about it. It was comforting to have someone else there. And the cop was actually super nice about it. He didn’t try to give me a ticket for any other violations. Oh well. Stanks, but could be worse. Hopefully I can get out of it.

***

The other badness that’s been on my mind is the case about a little boy who went missing and was found dead in a neighborhood a couple miles from his apartment a few hours later. This forum covers most of the nuts and bolts of the incident. It includes stories and follow-ups from most of the major news outlets in Austin.

I keep checking the news to see if they’ve released any new information. It upsets me badly, probably because it’s an innocent kid. More than anything I want to know WHY. He was left with his dad’s girlfriend and hadn’t seen his dad in a week. Hadn’t seen his mom who was separated from his dad for a month. I want remain open-minded, but it seems like the kid had rotten parents. If you live in the same city as your child why do you go a whole month without seeing them? I don’t have any idea what it’s like to be a parent or even have parental type feelings…but I know most parents are CRAZY about their kids.

And he disappeared in the middle of the night. The girlfriend noticed him missing at 5:30AM and the door was unlocked. How would he just get out and walk a mile away? And then get killed. His autopsy said he had internal injuries but I think one of the parents said his body was “all bruised up.” I get a really bad feeling about it. Makes me angry. How could anyone kill a child? How, how, how?

I started putting together theories in my mind based on info I read and other people’s comments. It’s unlikely, but he could have somehow left the apartment on his own and gotten hit by a car. The girlfriend could have shaken him to death (or beat him if the bruises were true) and then dumped his body. Maybe she was taking anger out on the kid if the dad hadn’t been there in a week…? There could have been an intruder who entered, snatched him, killed him and left him. Though the intruder would have had to know family or the girlfriend somehow. I have the strongest feeling that the girlfriend is either to blame or knows the person to blame. She his been absent from the situation since it happened. Reports are saying she’s cooperating with police. But she didn’t call anyone about the missing child till 90 minutes after she noticed he was gone. She said she was looking for him on her own…but there were two other children at the house…who was caring for them at that time? It’s weird and bothers me.

There been at least five homicides in Austin since the beginning of this month. : (

***

And now for more dreams…

I was invited to the home of a cryptic character in my real life. However, I was invited at night and had to let myself in. The person I sought was in a private office with frosted glass windows in the back of the house. I tried to get a glimpse of the mysterious person through the cracks separating the window panels. I could see a man with short brown hair, almost shaved, with a very slight receding hair line. He was thin, dressed in business clothes and paced around his office on a cell phone. I sat down to work on business in the living room but it was awkward, dark and I didn’t want to turn on the lights. The man comes out and sits down to eat at table behind me. He doesn’t turn on any lights and doesn’t say anything. I am trying not to look but I am plagued by curiosity. Finally we end up discussing business and the mystery man reveals that he is a cop. I am shocked because I spent so much speculating about his possible professions and had never considered this. I woke up from the dream very suddenly and startled. It was 1:30AM and I fell back asleep quickly.

Later in early morning I dreamt I was at a morphing house. It started out as the house of the grandmother of someone I used to be very close with in my real life. I was house-sitting while she was away on a vacation. Before she left she’d shown me through the house and was upset because parts of it were run down or falling apart. She told me she was too elderly to fix the problems herself and did her best. Other parts of the house were immaculate. The house itself was maze-like and hard to maneuver though. There was a pet that I was responsible for…a dog. I was there one afternoon and someone knocked on the door. My paranoid dream-self freaked out. I convinced myself I was hearing things but went to the front door anyway to check. I peered through the blinds and saw a man’s torso. He was tall, wearing a salmon colored shirt. I didn’t even look at his face and BOLTED toward the back of the house. It was difficult because of the maziness of the home. I ended up outside in an old garage or shack type building. I could see into the kitchen from where I stood. The man had entered. It was someone I work with who inexplicably creeps me in my real life. I wasn’t pleased to see him in the house, but knew he wouldn’t kill me so I went inside and talked to him. He had permission to be there and I hadn’t been told. He was bent over feeding the dog. I wanted to GTFO.

Then the house morphs from the grandmotherly house into a house filled with people. My dad’s wife is having her huge Filipino family stay while her and my dad are renewing their vows or having some kind of belated wedding party. Everyone is friendly, busy and milling around. I don’t really know anyone and am trying to stay out of the way. It was exactly like the tone of the house in “Home Alone” right before they leave for France. Dad can’t find Lovenieh (his wife) anywhere. I notice her on a couch crying in another room and tell my dad. She comes out of the room in fancy clothes wiping her eyes. I go to a bathroom upstairs to apply lipstick for the event. As I’m carefully applying the salmon colored lipstick (not normal for me) my dad walks in. He starts talking to me like we’re best friends. Then I drop my lipstick and have to crawl around behind the toilet to get it. Then it’s time to leave and I wake up.

The strange dreams continue but I’m just remembering bits and pieces. A few nights ago I dreamt I was shooting a drug into my veins and I lived at my office building. An overweight co-worker got in trouble for wearing gigantic platform shoes made from steel. There was a crazy teen in the parking lot driving recklessly. When we stopped to find out what the heck he was doing we noticed young children in the backseat. Then we yelled at him. The next night I can only remember part of my dream where I was in my car with someone else…kind of like a mixture of a few different people I’ve dated. We were trying to get to an island not far from the coast. The car was driving on thin patches of sand/dirt barely above the water. My car is low to the ground and we didn’t make it to the island because the water got too high and my car was in danger of flooding.

***

This past week I became inspired by paint chip art. I decided I was going to try myself this weekend. Of course it didn’t turn out right because I’m no artist…I’m more of a crafter. I hung it on the wall despite my frustration. I might add to it or just learn to accept the big bright mess. Formerly my bedroom was completely white and I’ve been meaning to add color. I would have just painted the walls but I rent. Too much pain and suffering. Anyway…see below. (Sadly it looks better in the picture, hahahaha.)

***

I get a lot of bruises on my legs. Mom is always first to comment about how awful they look. Though I think the reaction is kind of funny and sometimes I provoke it. : ) Most people ask, “What did you dooooooo?” [to get that ugly bruise?] I wish there were great stories behind any of them. There never is. I’m always running into stuff. Mostly cabinets and the edge of my bed. I forget stuff is in the way. I have a low sense of body awareness. Which would also explain why I’m a pathetic dancer. I currently have a couple bruises on my left upper thigh. I think the faded one is an airplane travel bruise and the other is from the bed edge.

I was scoping them out in the shower yesterday thinking how funny they looked. In the midst of that I fell over into the soap holder thingy, hahahahaha. What a mess. I have a new bruise and a half from it.

Geez. I need to take it easy.

Last night I dreamt my sister and I survived a tornado. Dreaming about tornadoes can’t be good according to the dream dictionary. At least we knew it was coming and had time to prepare. We were in a hallway with a many other people in a public building close to my apartment in Austin.

***

I had a semi-stressful weekend in Houston trying to deal with gross adult problems like my car and taxes.

My car needs a new catalytic converter to pass inspection. It’s already overdue. A new catalytic converter from Honda is going to cost me $1200 for parts/labor/inspection. Can’t seem to use an aftermarket catalytic converter on my car and get it to work right. Has to do with the specific type of car I drive. So right now I’ve devised an alternate plan. This car…it’s like an adorable child that’s usually well-behaved. Then occasionally it acts up and makes a big scene but you can’t stay mad because you love it too much.

I did my taxes after Easter church services on Sunday. I cried (only for about 30 seconds) because I realized I owed more than $1000. Stupid exemptions ruined me! My dad helped me lower it slightly because I opened an IRA. Learning about $$$ but it comes at a costtttttt.

My mood improved because we ate lasagne for Easter dinner. Then my sister, dad and I all laid on the couch and fell asleep listening to Italian music. Mom gave me some Easter candy and promised to help me with my car situation. My family is what saves me, love them!

Glad to return to Austin–welcomed by 100% marvelous balcony weather. Every day I’ve been arriving home from work and sitting outside. A time to leave the doors and windows wide open. I have to enjoy this while it lasts. Then it’s time for pools, rivers and bathing suits.

The strange dreams continued over the weekend.

Friday night I dreamt that my sister and I were exploring in East Austin. We came upon a man sitting outside run down concrete coffee shop reading a newspaper. He looked like a mix of Terry Richardson (creepy hipster photographer) and one of my sister’s ex-boyfriends. My sister talked to him and somehow after that we had multiple guns. I’m not sure he gave them to us. I had a long rifle/shotgun type weapon and my sister had at least two pistols. ***In reality my sister and I don’t know anything about guns and we’re not violent people.*** We started shooting. My sister wanted to shoot at people. I told her to at least try to shoot them in the arm or leg and not the face or chest. I told her we shouldn’t try to kill anyone. She didn’t seem to hear or care. Then we were standing in front of a large brick residential building, recently built. My sister insisted on running upstairs to the roof so she could shoot people like a sniper. I refused to go with her. Within minutes I saw her on the roof aiming her gun at me. I started screaming, “It’s Melinda! Don’t shoot me!”  She came back down and I gave her my guns because I didn’t want to be involved anymore.

The next night I dreamt that I went to Asia to teach English. It was supposedly South Korea, but it didn’t look anything like the pictures. It was poor, tropical and had terrible infrastructure. I was given my housing assignment and forced to live underwater without an oxygen tank. We had to hold our breath. There was an area above water, but it was more like a public park where other people came to hang out. I tried telling my superiors that I needed a different apartment because I don’t have a very good lung capacity. No one cared. I had a male roommate who knew what a coocoolooloo was. (The hair that sprouts from a little bow on top of prissy dog’s head.) I told him he was perfect.

I had another weird dream during a nap I took yesterday. As a narrative it doesn’t quite make sense, but the elements of the dream are interesting. I’m looking at a dream dictionary.

Crossing over a huge canyon on a rope.
-To see a canyon in your dream represents your unconscious mind and hidden feelings. It may point to emotions and relationships that you did not recognize.
-To see a rope in your dream represents your connection and attachment to others. It is also an indication of what is holding your relationship together.

Make it to the other side, realize I’m at some sort of amusement park.
-To see or be in an amusement park in your dream indicates that you need to set some time for leisure and more enjoyment in your life. Consider how everything in the park is an expression of some aspect of yourself. Alternatively, you may be too easily distracted lately.

Children are bungee jumping off a cliff. Some are just jumping. I am supposed to do the same. Terrified. Notice that they’re only jumping a few feet to the ground. The distance to the ground below must me morphing.
-To dream that you are bungee jumping represents your ability to bounce back from adversities and setbacks in your life. The important thing is you took the initial risk.
-To dream that you are standing at the edge of a cliff, indicates that you have reached an increased level of understanding, new awareness, and a fresh point of view. You have reached a critical point in your life and are afraid of losing control. Alternatively, it suggests that you are pondering a life-altering decision
-To dream that you or someone falls off a cliff, suggests that you are going through some difficult times and are afraid of what is ahead for you. You fear that you may not be up for the challenge or that you cannot meet the expectations of others.

Two very small children (two-year-olds?) are walking around alone. Their supervisor/parent/whoever assures me that they’re fine. I’m not a fan of children, but this strikes me as wrong and horribly irresponsible. I start to watch after the babies.
-If you dream that a baby is neglected, then it suggests that you are not paying enough attention to yourself. You are not utilizing your full potential.
-To dream that you are babysitting, suggests that you need to care for the child within yourself.

The children start to wander inside a haunted house area of the park and try to coax me in. I don’t like this idea.
-To dream of a haunted house signifies unfinished emotional business, related to your childhood family, dead relatives, or repressed memories and feelings.

Suddenly I’m on the streets of San Francisco, but instead of storefronts and cafes Nickie and I are walking along a huge outdoor make up aisle, like Ulta.
-To dream that you are applying make up suggests that you are trying to cover up or conceal an aspect of yourself. Alternatively, it indicates that you are putting on your best face forward. You are trying to enhance your self-image and increase your sense of self-confidence.

Then we get to a large intersection with lots of traffic. We see a billboard for some kind of kooky chicken restaurant and Nickie starts telling me all about it and how we need to go eat chicken immediately.
-To dream that you are at an intersection represents a decision or choice that you need to make in order to progress forward.
-To dream that you are in traffic signifies frustrations in life and that things are not going as smoothly as you would like it to. You feel stuck at where you are in life.
-To see a billboard in your dream is a sign or message that you need to take note of in your path toward your goals. Consider what advice the billboard is trying to convey to you.
-To see chickens in your dream, symbolize cowardliness and a lack of willpower. The dream may be a pun on being a chicken or chickening out of some situation. Chickens also represent excessive chatter and gossip. Listen closely to what people may be saying about you or what you are saying about others.

Then I woke up.

So what does it seem to mean? I have anxiety over some impending major decisions in life and that I have unresolved emotions. Sure, why not?

Last night I dreamt I was traveling the “I-10 Trail” by myself. In my dream I-10 ran north/south through Louisiana. Texas was north of Louisiana. I started in Louisiana in a desert-like area. It looked more like New Mexico or Arizona. I found a very old bike shortly after starting my journey and decided it would be better to ride instead of walk.  I came upon a small village. I roamed around through the main road looking at all the items being sold by the vendors. Suddenly I noticed a commotion in one of the stalls. About ten men had guns pointed at another man’s head. He was on the ground; I could barely see him. I became concerned and started walking faster. Shots rang out and the dirt road became a battlefield. I realized the village was totally run by a drug cartel. Everyone was getting shot: people with guns, people without guns and even children. I saw their bodies crumple in front of me as I took shelter in the corner of a vendor’s stall. I was up against a flimsy wooden wall, terrified that bullets would blast through and hit me at any second. I used a metal folding chair for added protection. I survived the massacre but I was the pretty much the only one. Everyone around me was dead or dying. Bodies were everywhere. I crept out of my hiding space and walked back to my bike, hopped on and left the village as quickly as I could.

I crossed the border into Texas. The bike gave me some trouble. There were only three gears, everything was rusty and crunchy. I got to the official beginning of the “beautiful part” of the I-10 trail. Apparently I had been there before on Spring Break. I met my Dad and Grandpa. We were going to traverse the trail together. They were upset I had a bike because they thought we were all going to walk. I rode slowly beside them along the desert trail. We got the entrance…it was more like a cave. Actually, the I-10 trail looked like the Alhambra in Granada, Spain. There were ornately decorated rooms, one after the other. The first one had tiny pearl tiles all along the walls. My Grandpa was ecstatic and loudly proclaimed their beauty. Right before we were going to walk into the second room I woke up. I was snuggled in my own bed at 6:44AM. No bike, no Dad/Grandpa, no pearl tiles. I tried going back into the dream but it didn’t work. Somehow I already knew what the other rooms would look like. The next one had blue tiles.

If you were not aware…it’s Children’s Authors & Illustrators Week. (Each morning at work my friend and I tell each other what quirky holiday it is, what day in history, famous people’s birthdays, etc. This web site is my main resource.) Today we talked about the books we loved from our childhood.

My favorite “series” books were definitely The Berenstain Bears and Little Critter. The two series are pretty similar, both involved families of animals that wear human clothes and talk. The family consists of a mom, dad, brother and sister. And there’s probably a grandma in the picture, too. There’s always a problem/situation and solution/lesson and everyone is happy. Kinda like an animal/children’s book version of Full House. These crazy animals…the cover illustrations make me LOL.

As a really, really little kid I loved Eric Carle books. The Very Hungry Caterpillar was obviously awesome and inspired at least one class project in kindergarten. The illustrations were beautiful; I’d love to have some Eric Carle artwork at home.

I liked the Madeline books…though really I cared much more for the style of illustration and setting of the book. The stories were just okay. Apparently a common misconception about the series is that the girls are at an orphanage. How sad, they’re really just at boarding school.

Strega Nona was so important! My Dad used to love to read it to us since it took place in Italy. I think by the time I was seven I had most of it memorized. I even brought it to school to “share” with the class. For some reason we used to discuss to shortcomings of Big Anthony a lot. I think my parents were probably just trying to reinforce his failure and dopiness, haha.

“Bubble, bubble pasta pot. Boil me some pasta nice and hot. I’m hungry and it’s time to sup. Boil me enough pasta to fill me up.” -Strega Nona

Miss Nelson Is Missing was a favorite. I loved the pictures of Viola Swamp. She was 100% more interesting than Miss Nelson. I always feared a substitute as horrible as Swamp.

I don’t know if it was just me, but I LOVED illustrations of food as a kid. My sister and I used to try to imagine what everything would be made out of if the world consisted of food. Cloudy With A Chance Of Meatballs was surely a winner because of all this. I specifically remember pictures of pancakes being airlifted or something. It would have been ridiculous to go to the town of Chewandswallow. I never saw the movie they made–I just don’t think it could live up to what I want it to be. Apparently they made a sequel to the book called Pickles To Pittsburgh. I’m skeptical.

I don’t like poetry at all but as a kid I loved the Jack Prelutsky and Shel Silverstein books of poems…New Kid On The Block, Something BIG Has Been Here, Where The Sidewalk Ends, A Light In The Attic, Falling Up. Geez, the new kid was so scary and mean looking.

This was one of my absolute favorite poems. As a six-year-old I thought it was hilarious.

“I Wonder Why Dad Is So Thoroughly Mad”

I wonder why Dad is so thoroughly mad,
I can’t understand it at all,
unless it’s the bee still afloat in his tea
or his underwear, pinned to the wall.

Perhaps it’s the dye on his favorite tie,
or the mousetrap that snapped in his shoe,
or the pipefull of gum that he found with his thumb,
or the toilet, sealed tightly with glue.

It can’t be the bread crumbled up in his bed,
or the slugs someone left in the hall,
I wonder why Dad is so thoroughly mad,
I can’t understand it at all.

Oh, and for longer books I loved Roald Dahl (Matilda, The BFG) and Louis Sachar (Sideways Stories From Wayside School).

Those are my selections.

Today I took a nap before going to the gym, then during my sleep I dreamed that I went to the gym. I got there wearing flip flops, a very loose nightgown and my robe. I didn’t think there was anything strange about it when I first got there. Then I noticed that the machines were all moved around. I went to my normal spot but it was the wrong machine. I noticed someone I knew…I suddenly got embarrassed because of who they were…someone I had been very close to. I got on the machine and started running and realized I was wearing a robe and was about to trip on it. I took it off and worried my nightgown would leave me exposed and unsupported. It was so AWKWARD. I don’t remember the rest. Maybe I’m having some unresolved awkward feelings in my life right now. Or maybe I just feel subconsciously self-conscious at the gym. I love weird dreams.