Happy Thanksgiving

[kybearfuzz]

Happy Thanksgiving everyone, hope it is a good one for all y'all (insert Kentucky accent here). Lots to report here, so I put in cuts for brevity. I need jeremasaur to teach me how he does it so neatly.

I love spending time with my nephew. He has two running nicknames. One is "Moose," given to him by the doctor because he was such a large baby when born, almost 10 lbs. I'm not a fan of this one, because he's a rather small kid now, despite being born large. The other nick that he has is "Dolphin," which is a play on his real name, but seems to describe him better -- fast, lean, smart -- and it's just cuter. So "Dolphin" it is for LJ purposes.

We were supposed to go see the Spongebob movie, but the movie theater stopped showing the 1 o'clock matinees and now opened at 3:30, some three hours after we'd show up. He was disappointed, so was I, so I did the next best thing. I took him to Mr. Gatti's (think local Chucky Cheese (sp?)) for pizza, Finding Nemo on big screen (Hi, I'm Dory!), and video games. After two hours of that, some 300 tickets earned, and some indigestion from greasy food, Dolphin and his uncle, me -- the walking wallet, left. I dropped him off at my mom's, a good time had, but I was feeling queasy and needed some rest at the twin's house.

Over the past week, I've come to the conclusion that my stepdad is unaware of my mom's gay kid. The other morning as I was leaving their place heading to Berea for homecoming, I was say bye and that I was looking forward to seeing old friends. The stepdad jokingly said, "Now, don't get married." I replied, "I don't think that is a problem." I wrote it off as a joke. Yesterday, he made a similar crack, as Dolphin and I were leaving, talking about me finding a girlfriend at the movies. Okkkkaaaayyyy.... he hasn't got a clue.

I'm not totally surprised that Mom hasn't told him, but seeing how I could walk in with a boyfriend on my arm someday, I would hope she would warn him. And now it begs the question, why hasn't she told him? Lots of possibilites come to mind. She doesn't want him to know, fine. When the future boyfriend and I walk in, she can do the very awkward, public explaining to him then versus the private discussion she could have done now. Enuff said.

This morning's dream was weird. I was back in college, sitting in convocation, which are the culture/religious events we had to attend for credit back in the day. I was sitting next to bleuvalentines and her hubby, which is odd, considering that we didn't go to college together. On stage, this beautiful woman was performing a great song. I don't recall it, but I remember enjoying it.

We then cut to a moonlit beach where Madchen Amick (sp?), an actress I saw on TV yesterday, is walking along and one of my high school friends, Jimmy, is pestering her. Jimmy was always a pest and my college doesn't have a lake or beach, but dream geography is bizarre anyway. I become a spectator at this part, so I'm not involved. So the singer from the convo kills Jimmy (like many of us always wanted to) and attacks Madchen. Madchen in her grasp slowly starts to age. She pulls her camera from her purse and hits the singer, causing a photo to be taken. The Polaroid shot flies out (yes, it's Polaroid, apparently dreams not only affect space, but time as well.. or Madchen's career has slumped and she can't afford digital). The singer falls into the lake and our heroine grabs the picture and runs back to campus, which is strangely right next to the beach (Berea has such hidden facets, apparently).

Running from our crazed, life-draining singer, Madchen pulls a chain hidden by a tree, a trap door opens by the tree, she drops in and the door shuts behind her. In the tunnel she looks through a storm grate and sees the singer looking around for her, drenched and menacing. This angle made me think of chrisglass's photography, the angle was great with the upward look of the old school buildings and the moon illuminating the singer's face. It struck me as something he would have taken, very cool.

Madchen runs down this short tunnel to the basement of one of the buildings, which is apparently a lab where she works on her own secret stuff. She cleans herself up a bit, walks upstairs, and joins the students in the hallway, it's now morning and she's heading to class. In her books, the Polaroid shot is sticking out, she pulls it from the book and a look of horror comes over her face. I don't know what she sees because I woke up. Darn it! The dream was fueled by bad pizza and the Stephen King's Sleepwalkers on DVD I bought yesterday, which has Madchen, photography, and life-stealing monsters in it.


Well, that's it. I'm off to get cleaned up so I can help the family cook today. Sigh.. I have to work tomorrow, but I'm looking forward to getting home.

Comments

[rockyjohn.livejournal.com]

Nah, she doesn't know me very well, and my Mom doesn't really talk to her too much. I think my Mom totally knows about my fagginess, but is in deep, deep denial. I doubt she would talk about it with anyone, heh.

I think it was just a slip of the tongue.