I am an idiot!!!

My partner tells me I am lucky my head is attached to my body, because otherwise I’d lose it. And I guess they are right, because I ‘misplace’ things all the time, not being able to find them for days and then out of the blue…. O there it is! That is why I get told how lucky I am with the head situation so often.

Today I hit rock-bottom, at least that’s how it felt, but if somewhere along the path it turns out I can go any lower, you will be the first to know. At least if you are the first to read the blog, otherwise you might be the second or third, but anyway, this is what happened…..

My partner and I left our house this morning to get a present for a party we are going to tomorrow. We knew what we wanted to get, but somehow didn’t get to buying it until one day in advance. No problem, we bought it, it is at our house right now, so I can get creative with it during the day attaching some money, so the receivers will get something we put time into picking it out and got creative with, and they will have money to buy something they will truly like, instead of the junk they got. Let’s face it, people seldom buy you something you truly love, unless you picked it out yourself. Or that could be just me… ungrateful brat that I am.

The first part of the day is going as planned. Next stop… to get my high heels repaired. On the way there my partner asks me if I would like to go get some fish to eat. YES PLEASE! It had been a while since I last ate fish, so I would love to! So unexpected stop to get some fish. We had planned to go grocery shopping as well, there was a supermarket right next to the place we went to eat fish (I ate fish, my partner won’t, even though they used to sell it at the market, they will not eat it, not even if their life will depend on it I think), so why not get the groceries there. Not a problem. Fish eaten, grocery shopping done, back in the car for the last shop, getting those high heels repaired. I go into the shop, give the man the shoes, ask what it is going to cost me and when I can pick them up and get back in the car knowing they will be good as new tomorrow.

Reading this you must think, where is this rock-bottom, reads like a normal day. You are right, nothing strange yet, until you know what you will read in a few seconds. We are in the car, feeling good about having done things so efficient and fast when…. A mini heart attack. Where is my phone?

Ok information you need. Today I am wearing a dress. If I wear a dress I don’t have pockets (duh), so instead of putting my phone in my bag or holding it in my hand I put it in my bra. Safe place, never lost it there. If it is really hot out I put it in a plastic bag and then in my bra, so the sweat won’t ruin the device. Judge me all you want, it does the job. I have my hands free and do not need a bag to drag along.

So I have the mini heart attack because I can’t find my phone. I scare my partner (who is driving) by freaking out almost yelling: “where’s my phone”, like I am about to lose my life. (what has it come to with this world that something like a phone gets me worked up like this.)
I knew for sure I had taken it from home, because I had been playing games on it when going to get the present. I had it when we left there, because I remember having it in my lap and putting my hand over the camera lens so the sun could not reflect in my partners eyes. At one point my partner wanted to hold my hand, so I put in under the skirt of my dress. Between there and the heart attack I didn’t remember having it with me.

I remembered thinking something fell when getting out to get the fish. Did I forget to take the phone from under my skirt? Was it in the street, maybe run over by our very own car?
My partner decided to pull the car to the side of the road, took their phone and started to call me. I heard my ringtone vaguely, but at least I heard it. RELIEF…. But the sound was awfully soft. It did not come from under my seat nor out of my bag. I don’t know why, but I decide to open the door. The sound grew louder. How in the world….? I close the door again, to see if it is in the compartment. Nothing, the sound gets softer once more. I get out of the car, check the back seat. My phone has gone to voicemail by now, so I ask my partner to try calling me again. Nope, not the backseat. How can it be I hear the ringtone more clearly when I am outside the car. At that point my partner is calling me again.. I close the door to the backseat. I stand up and just as my eye wanders to the roof of the car the ringtone starts again. Clear as can be. MY PHONE IS ON THE ROOF OF THE CAR!!!!!!! HOW IN THE WORLD DID I MANAGE TO GET IT THERE? More important how in the world hadn’t it slipped of?

I got in the car, the phone safe and sound by some kind of miracle, and my partner gets back on the road. We nearly collide with the car behind us, because both my partner and I didn’t notice it. Our minds were still boggled by the phone. Mine perhaps more than my partners. Could be my partner did not notice the car because I kept screaming: “HOW IN THE WORLD!!!” After escaping death by collision my partner calmly told me how lucky I had been the phone was still on top of the car. I kept screaming: “HOW IN THE WORLD. WHEN…. WHEN DID I PUT IT ON TOP OF THE CAR!? HOW IN THE WORLD DID I PUT IT ON TOP OF THE CAR!?”

It took about five minutes for me to calm down enough to start thinking clearly. When and how did the phone get on top of the car? Logic dictates I somehow got it on there when getting out of the car to buy fish. I had it when leaving with the present but I didn’t have it when buying fish or groceries and I didn’t have it when taking my heels to get fixed, so it must have happened when I got out of the car for fish. I still don’t know how though. Did I take it from under my skirt, heave myself out of the car, by grabbing hold of the roof with my phone in hand and then letting go of both the phone and the roof? I guess I will never know, because I am honestly trying to recall wat happened, but…. Nothing. And let’s be honest, the phone must have been on there while driving around, so it stayed on the roof while we made turns and stops and pulled up.

I can’t believe this has actually happened. I think my partner might be right, I would be able to ‘misplace’ my head if it would not be connected to my body. On the bright side… this was a miracle, so….. I am of to the woods, with the luck I have today I might actually stumble across a unicorn or something! If so I might even tell you about it :D.

Love
Dreamer

Stars

I asked a friend of mine what my blog should be about this week, because I am so tired I couldn’t think of anything. His answer: stars.

How did je come to this answer? Simple, we had been working with glow in the dark stars mere moments before. He was attaching them to a piece of string for decoration for a work thing or something and I helped. The picture that goes without this blog is the result of the project. This is just a trial piece. If it works out the way they want more string will follow.

Right, that’s how the toppic of my blog became stars. He suggested it and I told him my blog would be a very short one then. That’s when he told me to listen to all the little lights from passenger. He assured me that song would inspire me for a post. When I told him I didn’t have headphones on me, and I would need those because I am at the theatre for a show, he said the lirics would suffice.

I read the lirics. They are beautiful and I feel hope in the chorus:

We’re born with millions
Of little lights shining in the dark
And they show us the way
One lights up every time we feel love in our hearts
One dies when it moves away

But the last bit of the song fills me with regret:

We’re born with millions
Of little lights shining in our hearts
And they die along the way
Till we’re old and we’re cold
And we’re lying in the dark
‘Cause they’ll all burn out one day
They’ll all burn out one day
Oh oh, they’ll all burn out one day
They’ll all burn out one day
Yeah, no

I believe in the afterlife, this song feels so final! But still beautifull. Then I remebered I had put headphones in my bag weeks ago, so I fished Them out. Right now I am listening to the song. I love the voice… I love the music. It sounds like stars. My friend was right. The song is inspiring. It made me think, I have something to write about and I am glad I learned this song exists. I hope it may inspire you as well.

Love dreamer

My dad

Remember the loss of a loved one I wrote about last year? I don’t know why I didn’t tell you who the person that died was. Maybe I was concerned someone would recognise me because of it. I don’t care anymore. I’d much prefer my true identity stays hidden except for a few, but still.

As you can guess from the title, the person I lost was my dad. Why the change of heart in telling you who he is? Well, it is 5.19 a.m. when I am writing this, because I dreamt again last night. It was the best of the best of the best, because my dad was there with me. I had to get up and write it down because this is I dream I never ever want to forget, even though it is foggy as it is, so here it is:

I don’t know why, but my sister (yes, I truly have siblings) has two student flat’s, at least that’s wat my dad called it. They are more like wooden cabins outside of the city, with every luxury there is to have. For one reason or another both my sister and I are still young enough to go to school, and while she has these places she can live, my dad comes to pick me up every day.

So this goes on for a couple of days in my dreams, I have no clue what other things went on in my dream, I only remember my dad picking me up one day and how good it felt. There are two days when he does this in my dream, so maybe it was just the weekends and the place was mine to start with and not my sisters? I don’t care, he was there The second time he would be picking me up I remember feeling like he had forgotten about me. Apparently I thought he would pick me up from where I was at that time, so I walked to this house, hoping he would be there on the couch, like the last time. He wasn’t

I walked to the hallway and there he was, in a wondrous jacket I can’t even start to describe and a Sherlock Holmes hat. He was checking the bathroom, and I knew he would be happy, because the tub had been repaired. It stood full of water like it was waiting for him. Dad looked at me with this twinkle in his eyes and exclaimed: “I can finally use it again!!!”, after which he stepped in, fully clothed, and let himself slide under water completely. There he was in the tub, looking at me, happy as a child. The tub was big enough for him to fit completely and still have room on all sides. My dad was not a small man, so this tub was huge, even though it felt/looked like it was a normal size.

I remember asking if he still had his phone on him. No, he had already taken it out as a precaution, then he dangled one arm and a leg out and asked if I could take off his watch, just to be on the safe side. Sure, so I remove the watch from his wrist. “No, not that one, the one on my ankle, I kept it there to be safe from the sun”. I don’t know why someone would do a thing like that, but since I do crazy thing in my dream as well, I guess it runs in the family. My dad talked to some guy that came into the house about the bath finally being fixed. This is how I know my about the two student flats for his daughter (my sister as I remember now, but hey, dreams slip away so fast). He told the man about them.

Then suddenly I was at my wedding (no I am not married in real life) being happy, seeing someone I know with a puppy and cuddling it. My dad came to say goodbye, I don’t know why. This is where I wake up. I guess, because normally I would work today and my alarm clock would wake me up in about fifteen minutes or so.

I lay there, thinking about the dream, not wanting to forget. Emotions started flowing through me, I started to cry. Since my partner is still asleep and has to work today I went downstairs so they wouldn’t wake up on my account. The other plus is that I could get behind my computer and type up my dream. Now I won’t forget. I am thankful for having my dad with me last night in my dream. He hugged me and kissed me and told me stories and made me feel safe. I still miss him and I have been crying all through typing this, but I am so thankful he was there, because it means I didn’t forget about him, and since I believe in afterlife, I think he didn’t forget about me. Even though I can’t hug him in real life, I will always have those moments where he will be with me and I can hold him again.

Last year, when writing about my loss I mentioned it wasn’t the first close loss, but the closest so far. I have lost my brother as well. I am happy to say I’ve had dreams where he and I met up and talked about all kinds of things. So I dream about both my dad and my brother. Not often, but sometimes. I would like it to be more often, but you can’t have it all. Something about a gift horse 😉

It might not have been real, but it’s better than nothing at all.

Love
Dreamer

Sunday/monday hypothesis

The titel might be sunday/monday hypothesis, but I have to be honest with you… I don’t know if it really is a hypothesis. I don’t know if it means what I think it means and I was to lazy to look it up, so I went with it. And even if I don’t use the word correctly, it sure as hell makes for a fancy title, so there’s at least that.

I can almost hear you think: “Stop talking about the title, start talking about this maybe hypothesis of yours. Let is decide if you thought of a correct title!”. You’re right, so here I go…..

I have noticed a recurrent phenomenon for a couple of weeks now. Every monday I have trouble getting to work. Not because I hate work and would like the weekend to last forever, (although that would be great as long as the money would keep coming in even though I don’t work, because if not I could still het by for a little while, but hoe would I pay for food and stuff) but because I honestly have trouble waking up and staying awake!

So this happened week after week. Colleagues started to notice I was always a bit of on monday. They started to ask questions, questions I could not answer. “Why are you always more curt on monday?” “Why do you look so tired today?” “Are you oke? You are so quiet.” After a while of stating I just hadn’t slept all that well I started wondering…. It seems that most of the time I don’t sleep well is sunday night. Why?

At one point I figured that it may have something to do with the fact that the weekend had a different ‘vibe’. Every work day is more or less the same. I get up early, go through my morning routine, cycle to work, het through work, cycle home (sometimes getting some last minute grocery shopping done on the way there), spending the evening talking with my partner or to my partner, depending on wat’s on the tv, sometimes an appointment to go see someone and go to bed on time because the alarm will wake me early next morning. Not that exciting, I know, but I like it that way.

On saturday and sunday that routine goes out the window. Appointments are made, fun is had. In short, all excitement is experienced in those two days. Well actually most of the Times if even just starts on saturday evening, because my partner had to work on that Day as well, so I clean the house during the day. Is it really that strange sleep doesn’t come easy after all excitement is over and I have to prepare for work the next day? No I guess not.

I think I’ve gotten proof of concept this week. You are, both my partner and I are free on thursday. Yesterday was a busy one, loads of shopping done, going out for dinner, a lovely Day, but lots of excitement to ‘work through’. Last night was a bad one, so…..

Conclusion, after loads of stimuli my brain has trouble working through them, resulting in waking up several Times and having trouble getting to sleep (again). The weekend had most stimuly, espacially the way my week workshop, so sunday night tends to be a bad one.

Now you tell me: 1) did I use the word hypothesis right? 2) am I the only person that had this problem? 3) do you think I came to the right conclusion?

Sweet dreams 😉

Love, dreamer

Best Friends

Do you remember your best friend(s) from when you where a teen? I remember mine. The memories I have a warm ones.

I hear about childhood friendships that last forever. You met on the playground and after years of friendship you end up doing walker races in the halls of the home you both ended up in. I have friends of that caliber, but my best friend from when I was a teen doesn’t belong to that category. I didn’t know that back then and it does not matter that it isn’t one of those friendships, it was a good one all the same.

I loved spending time together and as far as I know so did he. We did all sorts of things including pretending to be vampire slayers on the playground in the evening when none of the little kids played there. As far as I knew we knew everything there was to know about each other. No one could ever know me as well as he did.

I loved every second of our time together, but there came a time when the friendship ended. Nothing dramatic, it was Just done. Around that time I met my partner and with that I found a new best friend, one that became to know me better than my best friend from when I was that teen ever did. Not that that’s strange, this telationship goes deeper than the other could go.

It has been years since I was that teen. I still think about my best friend with warmth in my heart and wondering hoe he is doing. I would love to bump into him at one point and to go have a drink and catch up, but I don’t think that will happen. I have this feeling it is a onesided wish.

This week I met him though, but not in real life. I bumped into him in one of my dreams and it was wonderfull. To bad the environment of my dreams was hostile, we didn’t get drinks, we talked strategy on hoe to stay alive, bit none the less, when I woke up it felt great to have seen him again, even if he was a figment of my imagination.

On another note…. Typing this blog and thinking back on the dream a question popped up. My dreams seem to be dark and violent quite often, why is that I genuinly wonder. Well enough of that thought.

Friendships, even when they don’t last. That friendship brought me so much, I Will always cherish it. I van only hope you have known/know/will know such a friendship.

Love dreamer

Shared accounts

I’ll start by letting you in on a little secret, because I don’t remember doing so before. Some of you know this, and some of you might have figures it out, but I made up my Facebook name, why? Because I had to be a real person, so public dreamer was not accepted as a name for my account. I am a real person, but I don’t want to write using my real name, so Felicity was ‘born’.

I am not that skilful when I need to use social media, so if there would have been another option for Facebook I could have used, I couldn’t find it. Sorry.

Why the confession? That has to do with something I did yesterday. Let me start at the beginning:

Years ago I refused to make a Facebook account. Why would I need one, I didn’t see the point. My sister however thought I did need one so she made me one. Let that be a lesson: make sure your siblings don’t have the password of your e-mail account. When talking on the phone she nonchalantly told me: “by the way, you are on Facebook too” when I told her I would delete the account she told me she would make another one if I did. Well what could I do!?!

I could have changed the password to my e-mail account, but I have a feeling she would have made An e-mail account just to make a Facebook account in my name. And thus it came to pass… I became a Facebook user. Not that I used it that much, but I started using it for the choir and stuf. I liked it.

My partner didn’t want An account either so they started using mine. They had permission and at first it truly didn’t bother me. They forwarded the occasional post from his employer, but it was still obciously my Facebook page. After a while they started liking sites, forwarding posts that related to their cycling and even started commenting on those posts. My partner used my Facebook account more than I did.

After endless asking to create a seperate account I had enough of sharing my Facebook account and I did something about it. Contrary to my situation years ago I don’t know the password to my partners e-mail account, so that option was out. Then I decided on just changing mine. My partner had used it so much it was practically theirs already, so I fidled until I found the right part of my account and changed my name to that of my partner. I changed the profile picture and banner, I changed the date of birth and everything else I could find. Then I told my partner to go on Facebook.

Did they like it. I think so. The only comment I got was: I could have made my own account. This one is connected to your e-mail. So I changed that as well and my partner changed the password. I made a new account for myself, so now we both have an account. It feels good to have my page to myself again.

Love dreamer

The Barber of Seville

Today I Will be going to my first ever opera and I am very excited about it!

I tried to dress for the occasion, but I am not shure if I did it right. Please tell me if I chose wrong, so I van take that into account if I go to another opera.

Most people (man and woman) where pants, but I like to dress when I go to the theatre. The people on stage make an afford to entertain me, so dressing up is the least I could do. The show had yet to start and I have no idea what to expect. The show is in Italian, but luckily for me it has ‘subtitles’ running above.

I’ve finished my coffee, so I’ll head to my seat. It will take some time for me to see the whole thing and get back to this blog, but you….. You can just read on and find out hoe my first encounter with an opera went.

Intermission, on my own, a drink in hand. Normally I would be watching people, but today I write. I loved the first act. It’s not a heavy opera, it had so much gest in it! I love it! Sure I don’t understand a word, the ‘subtitles’ helps a lot, even though they only translate the basics.

Upon finding my seat I heard the orchestra tuning. Only two rows of people in front of me I enjoyed watching the musicians warm up. Slowly more walked into the pit and the sound grew more and more complete. The conducter came out, we all applauded and the show started….

From the moment it began al the way to the intermission my attention was held by the music and the characters on stage. Not long after it began I heard an aria we all know (at least I think there can’t be anyone alive that doesn’t know it)…. Figaro. And for the first time ever I know what they are singing about!

The only anoying thing about it…. The woman behind me. They keep discussing what is happening on stage. Why!!! Just watch and enjoy. I don’t need to hear you talk about the ‘subtitles’ not working. Ever listen to music? There’s a lot of repeat in songs. If they put all of that in the ‘subtitles’ you would keep busy reading instead of watching. And the worst part about these women, after the intermission they had the nerve to ask another woman to turn of her phone, because the light bothered them. The. Curtains where still closed at this point. Sigh….

I’ve seen the whole thing now and I loved it. I will definitely go see another opera. We gave them a standing ovation afterward. Did you ever notice the following: everyone starts out clapping in their own rithm, but you allways end clapping in the same rithm.

I’ve had a blast! This theatre pass is one of the best things that ever happened to me! Tomorrow another musical, I have such a difficult life ;p. For now a last cup of tea, take of my make-up, brush my teeth and go to bed. Tonight I will certainly dream of love and idiotic plots to get together with the one you love. I can’t wait…

Love dreamer