hooky and hockey
So, I kind of skipped out of work early last night to go to the Pie's and
watch the game. It was very stressful. The game, I mean. Of the SEVEN
penalties the refs handed Ottawa, SIX of those were really bad calls. I mean
really bad. It was like Philly all over again, except this time we won. Very
stressful.
On the subject of stress, things are going okay right now, for the record. My
new lightbulb is working wonders and I feel pretty good these days. I'm also
not feeling pressured by anyone else to get married, but am only stating what
they've said. I try not to listen to things people tell me.
Why am I saying all this? JonBoy (bless his little heart -- but where's
your
blog,
Jon?) sent me a drunken email last night. I'd post it, but it would embarrass
him and turn him redder than he already is (if such a thing is possible).
So yes, suffice to say that, although the heat is on, it's all good.
Oh, and I have a new reader. I think that brings my regular audience up to --
oh -- six? Not bad, not bad at all.
Still having bad dreams, though, despite not being on any caffeine or
tranquilizer.
The night before last I dreamt that my parents were moving and didn't tell me
until the last minute. I have this dream often, except the houses are
different and so is the reason for moving, but it's always the same. I bought
a lot of books by Freud and Jung recently for one of my papers, so let's try
some psychoanalysis, shall we?
I always move. I was born in Halifax, moved to England when I was one, back
to Halifax when I was three, to a different house when I was five, to Victoria when I was eight, to Ottawa when I
was thirteen, to a different house the same year, to my current house when I
was sixteen.
Okay, so it's been a while since I left this city (nearly eleven years,
actually, the longest I've ever lived anywhere). Each move, though, has had
its share of difficulties.
So am I afraid of moving?
This dream has only been recurrent in the past year or so, however. I think
it's more to do with the fact that I DESPERATELY want to move out on my own.
Maybe.
Anyway, last night I had two dreams, and both were stressfull, like the two
dreams I had the night before (I won't tell you the other one -- it was
disturbing -- I rescued a small child from a sexual abuse scandal). I don't
remember one of the dreams I had last night, which is unfortunate, because I
remembered it this morning.
But the other one was about hockey. My first game of the year is tonight at
Belltown. I still can't stop on skates, and this bothers me. Anyway, my
dream was that I got to Belltown to discover that the city had put a billion
dollars into that tin can and it had seating like that at the Corel Centre,
and everyone I knew was there to watch me play. Even people from high
school. I ran into my coworker, Sheri, and she and her husband and daughter
were heading for the top row of stands to cheer me on. Way to expose my
inadequacies to the entire world, right? I went into the changeroom, only to
discover it had been redesigned as a very large walk-in closet, where every
player had her own full closet to put her stuff in.
Then I discovered I had forgotten my bag. Yes. I'd neglected to bring the
40lb sack that's the same size as me. Just slipped my mind. I had my skates
and my stick and my gloves, but no uniform.
It was getting late, and I was afraid I would miss my ice time if I went home
and got the stuff. I was also having a lot of trouble getting my skates on.
Then I did a neat trick, one that I've never successfully done in dreams. I
remember thinking, "Let's say I
didn'tforget my bag, and it's right
before me." And I looked down and there it was.
I was still struggling into my equipment when Sheri came down, dressed in
hockey pants and skates, to tell me that I was too late and that she had
replaced me, and then I woke up.
Posted by Ally at November 4, 2005 08:39 AM