Workout Meltdown


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Although my posts are primarily dream-related, I need to talk about something that has been eating away at me and culminated today.

When posting things on Facebook I’m likely to get much support, words of encouragement and lots of “hang in theres”. I have many people who are great at letting me know how wonderful they think I am and what an inspiration I am to them. I honestly don’t feel it though. It is one thing to support someone on social media. It is another thing to really empathize with someone, hold them as they let their feelings pour out of their heart onto your shoulder, and feel with them. Words of encouragement do little to get through to me unfortunately. I have started to feel even more alone in my journey through my depression, self-analysis and self-change.

I am currently working on losing 215lbs by July 2017. I was at 415lbs around Halloween and decided that it was time for a change. It is a slow, painful process that I am monotonously attempting to do. This morning I was at the gym with my workout buddy. She was off doing yoga while I eyed the shoulder press machine. As I sat down, I had to squeeze to fit. The machine was too tight and my hips hung over the edges of the seat. I leaned over to change the weight setting and the seat slammed down to the lowest setting because I was too heavy for it. I glanced around nervously hoping no one saw what happened. If they did, no one made eye contact with me. I set the machine it on one of the lightest settings and started pushing. I bit my lip struggling to do more than 10 reps at a time. The more I pushed the more I started realizing that I was getting a lump in my throat. I pushed and pushed as tears started welling up in my eyes. 40 reps in I had tears streaming down my face. I got up, cleaned off the machine and hurried into the locker room. Shielding my face, I grabbed my bag from the locker and hid in one of the dressing rooms. I sat there bawling into my towel for 10 minutes before gathering my self together and changing for work. I dried my eyes, brushed my hair and went out to meet my friend. She could tell something was wrong but I couldn’t talk about it for fear of breaking down again. “I’m just tired and need coffee” is my go-to answer. A true statement, but not a wholly complete excuse.

This journey feels impossible. I purposely set a goal that is attainable in 2 years. I am down 56lbs since Halloween. To lose the rest by 2017 I only have to lose 6-7lbs per month. That is very do-able. However I feel like I’m staring out at the Grand Canyon being told I need to make it to the other side. “We know you can do it!” is a lovely sentiment but I have no one who has made that journey before or who can make that journey with me now. I am alone in this. This is one of the scariest and hardest things I have ever done. I feel weak, helpless and lost. Quitting smoking, alcohol, drugs, etc. seem easier than quitting being fat. I am not downplaying the struggles of those suffering from addiction. I have seen how hard it is for people and I truly empathize. When quitting said substances, however, you can seclude yourself from those substances. You can go to rehab and make it a life choice to avoid situations where you could be influenced into going back to your old ways. You can’t quit food. You can change what you eat but you cannot avoid eating. You can’t go to a place where you won’t have temptation around. You can’t go “cold turkey” on cold turkey. A girl’s gotta eat.

I don’t want sympathy. I don’t want words of encouragement. I want faith in myself. I want to believe that I am capable of doing this. I want to not be ashamed of who I am anymore. I know it will only come with time and dedication but right now I’m staring at a frightening future and I am being crushed with self-doubt. The only thing I can do is keep doing what I’m doing and wait for results. I am on this journey alone with scores of supporters. All their support is only worth what I can believe from myself.

One day at a time.


Neon Shorts


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“Teach me how to kiss,” he said as he sat upon my couch. “Alright. Um, well, show me how you normally would kiss someone.” Needless to say, it was not up to par with what a conventional kiss would consist of. “Okay. This is what you need to know:

1. No fish lips. We are not walleyed bass nor are we Pac-Man here

2. Don’t be overly aggressive but don’t be made of marble either. A kiss should be sweet, soft, and enjoyable. Do not attack her mouth like you’re bobbing for apples. Let her come to you if you don’t know what type of kiss she wants. The way she kisses you will tell you what she wants.

3. Tongues are not necessary. Remember though, tongues take practice. Don’t assume that she is alright with it and just go for it. Ease into it if you are so inclined. Keep it to short increments during a make-out sesh though.  Don’t try to tickle her tonsils. Keep the bobbing for apples image in your mind’s eye. Your mouth should not be 100% open. This is not the dentist’s office.

4. Moist lips are nice, just don’t, don’t, DON’T slobber all over her!!! SWALLOW BEFORE YOU KISS PLEASE!!! Ick. And take out your gum. No one wants to be in a sweet amazing moment of passion and choke on Juicy Fruit.”

As I was teaching him the ins and outs of proper regular and french osculation -aka kissing- (which he picked up quite quickly I might add), my mother walked in. She started yelling about how I am a slacker and never make egg sandwiches. She threw a pre-made sandwich at me and told me to warm it up for her. I was offended at the rude interruption and briefly introduced my “student” to my mom as I stormed into the kitchen to warm up her food. When I returned to the living room I found my friend changing clothes. My mother was trying to give him a bra and blouse. I was mortified. I shooed her back to her room. My friend had decided to put on a pair of neon orange shorts reminiscent of a 70s basketball team. He was so happy at his “fantastic” find. I couldn’t tell him how incredibly wrong they looked on him. I simply smiled and escorted him out of my apartment complex. As I walked out the gate I stopped. To my astonishment there were thousands of bananas strewn about the lawn! Oh happy day! I knelt down…

Then I woke up to my stomach growling and the smell of French Toast being made in my kitchen. I can explain everything except the neon shorts…that is strange…

The Wine of Life


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This is not a dream, just an inspired post.

Not everyone likes wine. I remember how much I wanted to drink before I finally was able to taste my first glass. In all honesty, I hated it. It was overpowering and left a foul taste for me to “enjoy” for a long time after. I was put off from drinking wine. I was, more or less, encouraged to try other vintages after being told the beauty of other types. Over time, the more I drank, the more I realized that I was the one changing, not the wine. I was adapting to the flavors. I grew to enjoy the taste of wine.

I’ve tasted many wines in my day. Some wine is soft, delicate and playful. Some varieties are bold, rich and full of passion. Some leave a bitter taste that persuades you to never drink from that bottle again. The harsh undertones make you salivate if only to wash the taste from your mouth. Some wine is sickly sweet; making your stomach turn from the potency. Wine can make a person feel exactly the way they need to. There is emotion in every glass. Sorrow or joy can grace your lips if only you believe it to be there. However, if you drink from every bottle you find without appreciating the tastes lying within, after a while, the more you drink, the more they start becoming dull and static; every glass mirroring the last.

Then, as if some miracle is bestowed upon you, you taste that one perfect wine. It mingles just enough cheerful sweetness with the right amount of deep-seeded lust. You are swept away to a place of pure ecstasy. The smoothness as it caresses your tongue makes your whole body stop to appreciate its’ pure flavors. Every sip takes you to places you’ve never traversed before. The aroma envelops you as you close your eyes and take it all in. You experience feelings of hope mixed with the overwhelming feeling of loss as you swallow each mouthful. Hope is found in the beauty you never thought possible. Loss stems from the knowledge that eventually all things come to an end. You feel jealousy that others may have also experienced this particular vintage. You want to share your bliss with the world all while keeping this perfect find to yourself. No words can express the flawless way this wine matches you exactly how you need it to. After each indulgence, you know that life is exactly how it is supposed to be. You have found spiritual enlightenment.

I don’t approve of locking up a premier vintage and letting it moulder in a dark cellar where no one is allowed to even look upon it. Some wine gets better over time, no doubt, but one can’t experience its’ true beauty by keeping it hidden. Let it out, let it breathe, let it blossom. That one wine may be the spiritual nirvana for someone. How will they know if they are blessed with a taste? Don’t let a beautiful thing go to waste.

Now, I have not had a good glass of wine in ages. Here’s to finding that perfect bottle and savoring every last drop.


GT-Excelsior 3R400


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The dual suns rose over the barren wasteland of the deserted planet. The already dry mudflats cracked further under the sudden heat cast upon them. Our ship, the Galactic Transport Excelsior model 3R400, touched down in a flurry of sand and charred weeds. The colonists, whom we were assigned to bring to this harsh environment, disembarked. Our captain stayed aboard to run diagnostics as the lieutenant and I assisted passengers as they removed their belongings outside the cargo bay.

From the ship, we lead the group to their designated yurts centralized near a large base station. The station was covered with corrugated metal. Power was run by vast solar panel fields that absorbed, not only rays from the pair of suns, but from their reflections off the base station walls as well. Everyone parted ways as they went to settle into their new homes. As I watched them walk away I heard a siren sound behind me and turned to see the lieutenant running back to the ship. I took off after him. I reached the bridge where I found the captain and engineer receiving orders from a hologram. The 3D image projected was that of the commander of the space station orbiting around the planet above our heads. He was ordering our ship to send our head engineer and computer technician up to him immediately. Their core was in a state of meltdown due to the influx of solar radiation not properly compensated for. A double solar flare had reached the station and fried the solar sensors located on the outer shell of the station. The commander was ordering our lead engineer and me to beam to the station right then.

The engineer and I donned our space suits and beamed up. The engineer stayed in the reactor room as I went outside the ship to check the equipment. I floated around the outer hull. I reached the solar sensors and, to my dismay, found that they were melted together in a blob of wires and metal. Right then, the core blew up in a white light that radiated from all around me. I was thrust violently from the ship. I grabbed hold of a satellite as I flew backwards. The shock wave from the implosion of the station’s core pushed me into the atmosphere of the planet. I watched as heat built up around me. I saw the metal of my satellite start to turn red hot as we plummeted. I used what force I had to push away from the melting projectile to try and push myself back out of the atmosphere. The shock wave was too intense. I radioed to the base station to beam me down before I burned up upon further entry. The captain received my message just in time and I was safely brought to the surface. I landed about 200 yards from our ship.

Before I was able to remove my helmet, I noticed an unusual amount of heat haze rising from the ground. The shimmer grew in size. I looked up and saw the atmosphere disintegrating before my eyes. The reactor core had shot radiation toward the planet causing the layers of protection from the dual suns to rip apart. I knew that, if the settlers were not brought to the base station, they would be roasted alive under the intense heat of the two suns. I started to run toward the base station. My boots became a hindrance and I could see the rubber of my soles melting as I stepped. The lieutenant ran from the ship toward the base station. I watched as his skin began to bubble. A distinct *pop* and *sizzle* met my ears. As quickly as his attempt at salvation began, it soon ended as he fell to the ground. His hair curled and fizzled away. His skin melted off his body and nothing more than a red, oozing form was left by the time I reached his corpse. I started toward the base station door but stopped. I watched the glass of my helmet warp as the shock wave from the core implosion hit the surface. I knew I would not make it to the door in time. I closed my eyes and waited for the end.


My dreams can be epic. It is hard for me to truly get them down when I dream them. However, if I can put them down before falling back into the world of my subconscious’ imagination, then you, dear readers, are in for adventure.

Fried Shrimp and Kissing Students


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Antibiotics: That is the only excuse I can think of as to why my dreams were so strange last night. Among the stranger of the lot, this gem went as follows:

I arrived on campus the usual way. Walked from the bus stop, up the sidewalk toward the student union and into the food service area to get myself some lunch. To my astonishment our Subway had been replaced with Chicken Charlie’s! (If you have ever been to a Southern California fair, you know who Chicken Charlie is. If not, go to and be jealous). I ordered a pineapple bowl full of fried shrimp. I wanted to enjoy my delectable meal in the sun so I walked over to the grassy area by the library to sit. One of my students came to sit with me. He happily helped himself to my shrimp (which now I feel was rather rude but at the time I was happy to share). I leaned back in the grass; so happy to relax before work. Suddenly I felt someone’s lips upon mine. I opened my eyes to see Mr. Shrimp stealer! I pull back rather shocked. *blink blink* He leans over and, more aggressively, kisses me again. Ummm….*blink blink*. He then jumps up and yells, “WHAT AM I DOING? I HAVE A GIRLFRIEND! YOU’RE MY TUTOR! THIS IS SO WRONG!” and then proceeds to run away in a frenzy of notebook paper, grass clippings and shame. *blink blink*

I went back to my shrimp flattered but very confused.


Top 10 Evil Characters from your Childhood


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I must be reading Buzzfeed too much due to last night’s dream.

I was sitting watching television. A show started titled “Top 10 Evil Characters from your Childhood”.

#10. Big Brother – I’m not sure which cartoon this must have been from but it was some sort of Anime. Black hair, crazy eyes, look of “I’m going to kill you in your sleep if you touch my comic books one more time”.

#9. Emperor Zurg’s battle Reptar – Now I don’t know about you, but I don’t remember Evil Emperor Zurg (Toy Story) having 1. a battle dinosaur or 2. it being Reptar (Rugrats). Nevertheless, he was evil, mean and made number #9 on my list.

#8. King Black Ops of Destruction and Doom – Quite the name for a GI Joe type master of Kung Fu and stealth. He was big, black, and mean looking. However, due to his massive size and cumbersome equipment, he only made #8. He would be easy to take if you were small and wiry.

#7. Death Bee – Now sh** starts to get real. Death Bee is a gigantic bee reminiscent of the good ‘ol Donkey Kong Country days. She is the size of a pickup truck. Lasers shoot from her many eyes and her stinger will gouge your soul. Beware the Death Bee…

This is where the dream starts to get fuzzy…I think my brain overloaded on evil because I turned from the TV to find a male stripper on my couch (gorgeous I might add). I freaked out because I didn’t want my mom to find him there naked. I heard Gandalf scream, “YOU SHALL NOT PASS!!!” and woke with a start. I had fallen asleep watching Lord of the Rings.

Needless to say, I wonder what #6 through #1 were…

Vicodin Pirates


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I am currently taking Vicodin for some severe pain I’ve been suffering for the past week. I have always noticed how my dreams will have more plot lines to them when I’m in the very deep sleep that Vicodin causes me to have. Thus, my swashbuckling adventure of woe was hatched.

I was at the beach. It was around noon. it was very pretty out as I watched the water crash on the rocks around me. There was an average amount of people around but just enough where my absence would go unnoticed. I walked to this area that had large boulders laying around. I was looking for shells and such when I climbed over to the other side of the boulders and found a hole about 4’x4′. I saw footprints going in and out of it and a dim light flickering from deep within. I grabbed my little shovel and crawled in. It seemed like I crawled forever. Finally the tunnel got wider and I crawled into this huge cavern. It was old and looked like it had been used for hundreds of years.
I looked around and saw stone stairs. There were candles burning along the wall. It was then when I noticed that I could hear moaning coming from above. I carefully climbed the stairs and peeked around the corner.

I looked into a rather large stone room. Around 15 to 20 people were chained against a wall. Pirates were gathered in the middle of the room as well as along the wall of prisoners. There were both male and female prisoners and both male and female pirates. The pirates were drunk. Some of the male pirates were raping the women prisoners while the male prisoners were being beaten and killed one by one.

My anger flared when I recognized some of the prisoners as friends of mine. I ran back down the stone stairs and grabbed the candles off the wall. I took off my shirt and tore the cotton apart and wadding the strips into balls. I covered each strip in rum I found in a barrel near the room. I sneaked back upstairs and, when they weren’t looking, started lighting the pieces of shirt on fire and throwing them at the pirates. I then rushed in and started hacking left and right with the shovel trying to push my way through the commotion.

Some of the pirates fled. Others I had to fight. I broke the chain that was holding all of the prisoners to the wall. The prisoners who were still able to walk fought back. I grabbed one of my friend’s hands and we started down the stairs. I didn’t know how to get out and he told me that he had been unconscious when they brought him to the cave so he didn’t know how to get out. A few pirates tried chasing us but we fought them off. In the melee, my friend got stabbed in the leg rendering him incapable of walking. I had to support him as we ran. Finally, we found the cave exit but it was full of water from high tide. He then told me that he couldn’t swim.

I grabbed his shoulders, told him to hold his breath and pulled him through the tunnel behind me. We swam and swam. We made it out and I pulled him limply to shore. He was unconscious and I kept trying to resuscitate him by giving CPR. I was crying and screaming for help. A lifeguard ran over with a defibrillator. Just as he yelled for everyone to stand clear so he could administer the jolt of electricity, I woke up.

I woke up with tears in my eyes and a rapid heartbeat. This physical response only occurs from time to time. But I care enough about my friends to know that my reaction was not out of the ordinary.

(On a small side note, I promise, in all of my posts, I won’t disclose names of those in my dreams. Those are for me to know. I may share that info with the person I dreamt about, but that is between us)



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When I was 4 years old I had a dream that I was flying around a magical world with the Carpet Genie. He dropped me off at this palace where there were chocolate coins wrapped in gold foil laying everywhere. I ran up to grab one and the face on it came to life. A huge head like that of the Wizard in The Wizard of Oz exploded to life above me and I ran from the hall screaming.

Since then, I have always had crazy dreams. I am infamous to my friends and family. When I say, “Oh my goodness, I had the weirdest dream last night” they know they are in for a treat. I remember strange and minute details that would be lost on most brains. The more I’ve told my dreams to people, the more I’ve been told to write them down.

This is the “why”. My dreams may or may not have meaning. Nevertheless, they always have depth as well as an entertainment factor. I hope those of you, if any, enjoy reading these strange and fascinating thoughts that my subconscious decides to fill my sleeping brain with.