Extreme Sheepherding

I have nothing else to say. Enjoy. Don't hate.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D2FX9rviEhw

I have a recurrant dream

this has happened like, ten times now. the dreams are not exactly the same, but the same basic themes with varying details. I've posted about a few of these individually, as they came, months ago.

in all of them, i dream that i am:

1- in a travel group with a random group of people i know, who as far as i know, don't know each other. like my mom, my boss, a childhood friend, people i never actually talked to from my classes in semesters gone by... funny looking people i take notice of in public places then never see again...

2- we are traveling through a wilderness of some sort. rice paddies in south asia, mountains in colorado, a jungle, antelope island, the green belts near my old house in seattle...

3- i am always under some sort of duress. i'm being made to carry lots of cans of food, or my shoes hurt, or it's cold, or i'm obligated to be there under some sort of ugly social pressure...

4- somebody, whether it be the people in my group, or the native people of the place we're in, or just... other people around me... somebody... is in trouble in some way. starving, sick, politically or socially oppressed... in one dream, doomed to sit in some sort of strange uncomfortable stadium seats without food or water or other necessary provisions, or fall to their deaths, until who knows when, in which case they will likely die anyway...

5- i try to rescue them. or myself. or both. i've done it politically, i've done it renegade, guerrilla warfare style... but never with weapons. it's hand-to-hand, or, most of the time, darting from tree to hut to rock to whatever, hoping not to get caught or blown up.

and this is how it usually goes. the dreams never resolve themselves. i always wake up somewhere in the process of trying to rescue people.

Steep

I really like herbal teas. This morning, while preparing a mug of it, i took a moment to read everything on the box. the preparation instructions read,

"steep for five minutes as you contemplate your favorite eternal mysteries".

ha. i love those tea-brewing hippies. these tea boxes are better than fortune cookies. if memory serves, the celestial seasonings boxes have entire really bad hippie poems [worse than the poem posted below... but i just felt foolhearty and couldn't think of anything concrete to say and hadn't posted in a while and this is my blog and i do what i want, thank you very much]. i might go buy a box just for the literature, even if those teas kind of suck.

also, it isn't quite motorcycle weather. which almost makes it more fun.

Glossom

i'm scratching and i'm scratching

then i'm glossing,

but i'm scratching.

I lacquer and scratch.

then gloss and scratch.

then scratch and gloss and lacquer and scratch and...

glossom.

i gloss and scratch and gloss and scratch.

scratch glossoms...

blossoms?

no, glossoms into masonite.

scratch til flurries of dust float to the floor.

cascading to stacks.

orderly adobe cities,

in the eyes of mice,

are constructed of the dust from whence i scratched.

and scratch.

the glossoms onto masonite.

the glosssoms to gloss over in artistic omission.

expressing intent, intent of avoidance.

because nobody, not i, not them.

ain't nobody ready for that.

Sisters

This morning, my roommate Janice and I went out for brunch. The lady at the register immediately asked us if we were sisters. We said no, and she asked us if we were cousins. We said no, and somewhat alarmed, she asked us if we were at all related. We said no, and she didn't believe us. She came up to our table a few minutes later and asked us again if we were sure we weren't related. We promised we weren't.

We decided to take a picture when we got home to see if we could see what she was talking about...



We are mystified.

.

Traffic.

Last night, I slept very peacefully, and enjoyed a nice dream.
I was with my friend's dad, attempting to illegally cross the border to the US on foot... in a place that sort of looked like a cross between yellowstone and san diego. it should have been a stressful situation, but the scenery around me was so beautiful, i hardly considered making myself care.
There were tons and tons of people attempting to immigrate in the hills with us, stopping into towns and darting through windows to evade border patrol officers. from the road though, the hills looked picturesque and serene. you'd have had no idea the place was riddled with desperate mexicans, crawling about like ants among the underbrush.
later on, we were biking through the countryside to reach our final destination--UVU. apparently my subconscious considers the commons of UVU to be a sanctuary. i had a wonderful bike. it looked like my bike, but was lightweight and functioned like a nice road bike. we biked in the sunshine through the hills for a long time.
i was sad to wake up, and feel the sun and warm breeze in my face fade as i began to realize it had all been imaginary in the first place.
now, sitting for my fifth hour and counting on my mom's couch in thick socks and a sweatshirt and still feeling cold, i'm watching man vs. wild and feeling envy.
would i want to have to free climb cliffsides and make water depth measuring gauges out of weeds before i attempt to jump of a waterfall? no.
i wouldn't want to HAVE to...
but right now it looks like a lot of fun to try.
and it's sunny there, wherever he is. it might be a worthy compromise.