Tag Archives: butterflies

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Insomnia and Butterflies

Today I went stepped out on my front porch to grab my mail and there was a butterfly on the mailbox. He flew off then came back in and landed on my shirt and shilled there for a moment. I am being stalked by butterflies. It is probably a good thing but definitely a strange thing.

This morning I finally fell asleep at about 5am, then I slept the kind poets write sonnets about. It was glorious. I had some really strange dream, two of which I remember with movie like clarity. One was just a strange my brain telling me what is stressing my subconscious dream and the other one was just strange. I think it needs to become a short story. I think after I write this blog post I am going to set up my laptop in the air conditioning and write it all down. It was weird. It had time travel, thought police, an apocalypse, nature going nuts, and seal pups. Oh and there was a Burger King. It is not like my normal back living in the dorms, forgetting to go to any of my classes then having to take a final dreams. It was just… bizarre.

So I haven’t been getting to sleep until early morning, if at all, lately. It is a summer thing, especially this unholy summer.  This means I spend a lot of time alone in my own head. It is a scary scary thing. I spend a lot of time having fake conversations with people in my head. One of the most common people is Ellen DeGeneres because she is my favorite talk show host. I have conversations with my friends and family. Sometimes I write things in my head and they stay there because I am too lazy to turn back on my computer. Generally when I wake up the next morning, I realize it is a good thing. I mean we nearly averted a spoken word poetry incident. Sometimes I create funny scenarios in my head or just follow ridiculous thought tracks until a winding twisting end. The common theme is that I know that they are amusing and I should get them down for posterity, or at least for the amusement of others, but whenever I try to remember ANY of it, it blinks away. It is like that speck floating in the pool, you try to grab it and it floats away and no matter what technique you try it still always gets away. Those are my late night conversations with myself. I do remember the less interesting things like this morning trying to remember the name of the creator of “Spawn” and only coming up with Todd. (I looked it up, no worries) I laid in bed thinking and wracking my brain trying to come up with it. I have no idea why that thought even came into my head.

So, now I know some of you are being all judgey in y0ur heads about me being so open about my middle of the night weirdness in my brain. Stop. I know you do it. Everyone on the face of the planet has fake conversations in their head. Most normal people do it to prepare for difficult conversation, I just happen to do it for sport. Here is a fantastic thing. Generally, most of your really strange shit that you do or think, most other people do too. That is the glorious thing about being a blogger is that not only do you write about your strange shit, but you know someone else out there has done the same thing.

I make sense to me.

 
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Yes, I Know It Is Not Saturday

And, yes, I am aware that is improper capitalization for that title. My give a crap broke, so shoot me.

Okay, funny things time.

So, Thursday I got dive bombed in the face several times by a butterfly. I told you guys all about that. Friday, I had errands to run. I stepped out onto my front porch and there was a butterfly and he immediately flew over and landed on my leg and stayed there until I got to my car. I walked really funny not to squish him on accident. I am being stalked by butterflies.

(Side story that is not funny but pretty cool and relates to butterflies: After my dad’s father died my dad was really upset so he went for a walk and sat down in a field of flowers. He sat in the field and cried and thought and mourned. After about an hour and a half he started to feel more at peace and he stood up. When he stood up all of the flowers in the field took flight and swirled around him for a second then flew off.  This is why in my family butterflies represent my grandfather and peace. I see them at odd times when I need to be reassured that things will be okay or that I am on the right path. Being stalked by butterflies right now is a good thing.)

Hormones make me crazy. I missed Tina’s daughter’s birthday party yesterday even though I really wanted to go. I just really couldn’t. I knew this Friday night and I had dreams that she was so mad at me she moved her family to Baton Rouge without telling me. Also, in the dream my family and I lived on a tropical island. I walked out to talk to my mom about being upset that Tina left and I found my mom in a shed making paddles out of found objects because there was a flood coming. All of the paddles had Styrofoam of some sort in them leading me to believe I can blame Modern Marvel’s episode on Styrofoam. This was the more normal dream of my sets of dreams.

My friend Amy Trachte Moore introduced me to one of my new favorite things in the world. I want to be this woman when I grow up. The Bloggess is flipping awesome. She is like me but only funnier and far more cool. I should be envious of her but mostly I want to be her or have coffee with her.  Seriously awesome woman. I laughed so hard I snorted.

So I started a website, Facebook page, and Twitter account for my pen name. It makes me feel completely insane to create this entire other person. Seriously insane. I have decide to roll with it and enjoy the crazy.  I am using the site to blog about the process of writing my book so if the book ever does get published I will have a “web presence.”  I need to do a photo shoot with Tina as Charly Sinclair, my alter ego, which the idea amuses me. How does one take pictures as an alter ego? Maybe I should look for a funky wig or hat or something.  (BTW, I know the website is kind of lame. I am still writing this blog, a book, AND that site. I put that as the last priority seeing how she doesn’t exist.)

Good news is Tina promised me that if she moves it will be north and that she will tell me if she moves. I am so glad she is so patient with my crazy.

 
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It Started with Frontline at 4 am

This morning I woke up with a stomach ache. It was one of those things that interjected  into my dreams. So I woke up a bit irritated and decided to watch the PBS. Frontline was on and it was awesome. It got me all riled up again about the debt crisis even though it had nothing to do with the debt crisis. I went back to bed at about 5 am angrier than hell. I laid in bed stewing. I was so mad, I was so mad that I seriously consider creating some spoken word poetry. I was seriously THAT mad.

As a general rule, I hate poetry and most of the time bad spoken word poetry is a bunch of indignant, self-important, crap. I was mad enough that I didn’t care. I thought about what I would have to do to get it recorded while I composed it in my head. I thought about having to find my webcam, getting myself looking decent,  get my webcam software downloaded, edit any video, post it on youtube, and the list kept getting longer. I fell asleep instead. The world was saved from some bad spoken word poetry by my laziness. Score one for the good guys!

I woke back up much later with an improved stomach and I was far less angry until I checked my e-mail and saw Boehner’s over tanned reptile face and read quotes from speeches he has given lately. I got mad all over again. I started ranting about all of it. Then my rant went all historical like my rants tend to do. I genuinely believe this time, right now, has a great chance to completely change the path of the U.S for the good or for the catastrophic. (I am totally not going to get into that. You guys are not interested why I believe that way and if you are I will right about it later.) I was calling Boehner everything but an intelligent, talented statesmen.

I got all frustrated again when I realized there was nothing my anger could do. Writing about my political frustration feels pretty pointless. I live in Oklahoma and I am a moderate with liberal leanings. My effect here is like throwing a hotdog down a hallway. (Think sex and you will get that simile.) I was so worked up until I saw this:

It didn’t make the crisis go away, or my anger. I am still unbelievably frustrated with this country, its politicians, and its people. I just had to laugh though. That laughing put everything in perspective. I like perspective.

There is a chance our country is going to go to shambles. I vote, I try to keep up and stay informed. I vocalize my feelings. I have done everything I can.

I realized how ridiculous this morning was with my spoken word poetry aspirations. I had to make fun of myself. Then, I went outside to take out the trash and I got dive bombed by a butterfly IN THE FACE. It swooped in and landed on my nose and flew off three times. You can’t swat a butterfly. That is the karmic equivalent to punt a cute fuzzy puppy. So, I was attacked by a butterfly. Oh how I am blessed with a feeling of the ridiculous.

 
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