Month: March 2015

I really don’t remember! Jeff might. I suspect the answer might be something as simple as Jeff and I wanting an excuse to talk comics to each other for a long time, to be honest.

The dream this morning saw me writing something for a new job, but I had to do so on a new computer they specified — and it was something that also captured everything I was writing for everyone else, and sent that to the new employer as well, unless I sat down and deleted it all word by word (and image by image, where appropriate). It wasn’t a work anxiety dream as such, more a work Oh God, I have to do this as well? This is a bummer, this is no fun, dream. Given how utterly un-enthused I feel about work this morning, that feels entirely appropriate, to be honest.

In another world, today was less frustrating — there was no Internet outage that lasted from yesterday until this morning, meaning that I wasn’t stuck playing catch-up as soon as it came back, and I also didn’t have to chase down non-existent quotes for a story that could have run hours earlier and been news, instead of something that everyone else had already published — but that wasn’t my experience. Instead, I find myself sitting here and thinking about the difficulty of just letting something go, instead of stewing on it. I know, intellectually, that that’s the wiser of the options, accepting that I can’t change what’s driven me crazy all day, but I’m definitely stuck thinking easier said that done when it comes to following through. Grr. Argh.

Tomorrow will be another day. Maybe even one less maddening than today.

Nope. During the World Cup, I make the most half-hearted attempt to follow football (AKA soccer for Americans), but that’s it.

There’s so much to unpack from last night’s dream, not least of which is a performance troupe of transgender androids attempting to create emotional closure of childhood wounds, but what sticks out even more than that is the sight of war beginning.

We — me, Kate and a couple of friends whose identities are lost to dream logic — were celebrating something and looking out the window expecting fireworks, but it quickly became clear that we were seeing something else. There were explosions in the sky, sure, but they were explosions, and quickly followed by the sight of hundreds of parachutes opening, men falling to earth with weapons in hand.

There was an inevitability about it, knowing we couldn’t stop them from falling, that they’d come to try and kill us, that was unlike anything else in the world. It was chilling, and hopeless. Oddly enough, that was when I knew I was dreaming.

wolkin:

A question: what are traditions of yours that have either been created or passed down, religious, communal, family, or otherwise?

Feel free to reblog and add your answer. I’m genuinely curious in seeing how much I can learn from people. 

Reblogging to signalboost, and also to let me think if I have any traditions like the ones David’s talking about. No family traditions have survived my adolescence and leaving home, and then leaving the continent, I don’t think (Actually, maybe that’s not true; I continue to have an almost-religious respect and love for libraries, and I’m pretty sure that’s something that came from weekly visits with my folks when I was a kid).

But new traditions get created. Since being in the US, I’ve always done the orphans thanksgiving get together, and can’t imagine Kate and I just doing it alone now. Kate and I go out to dinner every December 24, as a gift to ourselves. We don’t have religious traditions, but social ones and holiday-themed ones, I guess.