well i think i'm over my cold. Still have a cough, need to be aware and take vitamins and stuff--but taking care of myself for 3 days and the flu is pretty much gone!! Great how that works.

I've been having crazy, vivid dreams lately, though. They bleed into my life somewhat, and it's hard to separate the two. The Ex's song for me was Like Red on a Rose (he WAS a cowboy...) and I woke up singing it a few days ago. So, I removed it from my bookmarks and said goodbye to the song. Days later, I dreamt of him telling me not to forget Red on a Rose. Um, now that's it written out it's self explanatory. Guess letting go is a long process.

I also dreamt that the Sailor was on Maury Povich with his ex wife, Maria, crying about how he could never love again. I found out from my current roomie (Theo) who was surprised by his mom with a new father...

Anyways. The Terrible People have moved. The last one moves tomorrow. They're gone... I don't know how that makes me feel. Relieved, kind of. And now there's this new group I'm merging into--intelligent, driven, entrepreneurial, articulate, and still FUN, passionate--I like this. It feels like I'm, growing up? Maybe?

nyquil

i dreamt i had swine flu, but even though they'd diagnose it for free, they wouldn't treat me until july 1 when i have medical insurance.

I also dreamt that I was suffocating. Over and over. Everything operated as normal, I just had to remind myself to open my mouth and put my head back. Everything will be ok.

the type of man uncle is

today i left work early because i was sick. Got home, and uncle needed some help. Went with him to move some couches from apartment to apartment. Not excited. Tired. So he let me do lil things (like cushions). We showed an apartment. Feeling tired and sick, I laid down on the couch after the clients left.

"Want some malasadas as a treat?"

Yummy, doughy, sugar-n-haupia hot goodness. Limit: 1

He's supposed to go to dinner with his cousin. Instead, he pulls out our nearly-fully-eaten chicken, boils some potatoes, and spends nearly an hour making me yummy, yummy, yummy chicken soup. Moved his dinner back. So sweet.

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Oh, and? This morning he packed my lunch and helped make my breakfast. I love him.

day was:
wake with stuffed, throbbing head.
go to dog show... interesting to say the least
show an AMAZING 2-bdrm penthouse in Waikiki... if only...
go to 9-course family dinner with uncle
bed by 9:30

Where I am

at uncle's house the air smells green and damp, and the clouds roll in off the mountains and blanket the sky, soft and gray, before breaking apart above the valley. The lizards here somehow sing and chirp, like little hidden cricket-birds. The archways are tall and grand, the floors tiled and worn, the paint hangs in strips from the ceiling. Sometimes, you'll even find it in your food. Beautiful old antique vases and clocks, along with knockoffs, along with empty boxes and papers and containers and stacks of newspapers and old VHSs fill the rooms in piles on top of piles on top of piles. Uncle knows where everything is. Our washing machine starts (or stops) when you push the big, back lit, blue"Play/Pause" button. My clothes, for the first time in years, actually come out clean.

Every morning, I'm greeted by 17 excited little furry faces that just want love. And food. A Pomeranian's bark is soft, as if they all yelled too much last night and are hoarse today. When all 17 are barking it almost sounds like running water. They're small enough to pick up by the scruff, and when you do their legs go stick-straight, tails wagging, eyes half-closed, a look of bliss and contentment on their face. They love to be held, and immediately go limp in your arms. Or, they nuzzle in to your neck, or under your chin, as if they want to hide in you. They're lovely.

I wake up early, which is surprisingly easy for me lately. Without my alarm, I've been up by 6:50 most days. I stumble out to the lanai and feed the dogs and get love, and then make coffee. I'm actually eating breakfast, nowadays. By 8 the cool morning damp has evaporated, and that's when I'm thankful for Uncle's dark, cavernous house.

I don't have internet as much, but I do have a t.v., and I sit and crochet and watch Golden Girls and feel like I'm about 85 years old. I'm considering reading before bed again--I used to love that. I've lost that frantic feeling I've had for years now, and finally feel my days unfolding with me again. If that makes sense.

And, for as up in the air as I am, this is where I'm supposed to be. And I'm going to love it while I have it.

moved in. Uncle is one of the sweetest, most generous people I know. Today, I asked to borrow the car to go shopping and he said we should go together and he bought everything. His house is open to everyone, his fridge is open to everyone, if he knows you like something he'll make sure to get it for you... he's just lovely. He cares about people, and honestly wants you to do well and succeed and be taken care of. I feel like I'm in A Home. This is good for me.

Moving was an exhausting pain in the @ss. My foot hurt so bad by the end that I thought I was going to throw up. House full of crap that people have left there over the last 10 years, all had to be boxed up and taken to the garage. Had to clean after roommate threw an eviction party--which was fun, but a little too much for my taste. Fun, though. So, yeah, possibly the worst moving experience ever. No one wanted to help or work. Three of us ended up doing nearly everything--and one of them didn't even live in the house.

The dogs! Oh, the dogs. They are the sweetest 7 pounds of fur you will ever lay eyes on. They're bushy and wiggly and loving and their barks sounds like they've perpetually lost their voices. Muted little puppy yipping. They love being held. They'll be all excited and twirling around, and the minute you pick them up they just go limp in your arms, so happy. Or, they try to climb up to your neck to nuzzle. I'm in love.