Psychology @ MindSay

Two nights in a row, that's the only answer.

So, I had another dream last night, and it was quite different (and patchy) from the one before.

In the first part of the dream I had a pet snake. It was blue and had a strangely adorable face. I was outside with it on our carport when it went over to the weeds and a black snake shot out and chased it back over to me, where it stopped at my feet, waggling it's tail and looking up with pleading eyes, wanting to be held (much like a puppy or something). Shortly thereafter I found another snake that I decided to care for. It was green, and I don't remember much about it except that it morphed into a spiney, worm-like creature. Not really a centipede or anything like that....I can't really explain it.
In the second part of the dream was of me at work, wanting to wear two pairs of earrings at once. One pair was a pair of wire-wrapped silver stars, the other a pair of round black plastic studs (very vintage looking). And so, while at work, I pierced my ear with the black earrings. I only managed to pierce one ear because it hurt like a bitch, though.
In the third part of the dream I had just gotten home. I was outside and I could hear one of the TVs in the house blaring. I went inside and followed the sound upstairs to the guest bedroom/library where I found Jen, the annoying black girl from Hells Kitchen, confessing that she stole the sunglasses.
Wtf?

Mostly I'm wodering about the first and second parts of the dream. I'm curious about the meaning behind the three snakes, their colors, and their "relationship" to me. Also, black reoccurred twice in the dream (black snake, black earrings). Anyone good with dream analysis? Also, if you know of a good book on dreams in general I'd love to find out about it.

So, last night I dreamt I was blind. Or rather, I went blind. It was incredibly disturbing.
Everything was black, it was like living life with my eyes closed.
Anyway, I don't remember how I became "blind," but I remember I was really upset about it. And I was out at the mall and I somehow ran into Ken (someone from school) and I was like "Ken, have you always been blind?" and he was like "No, just for 10 years, why?" then I started crying and was like "Because I just became blind!"
After that the dream skipped a bit and I did something or other and I could see again, then my vision faded out to blurry black and white, and then I was blind again.

Then I woke up.

It's been a quiet weekend, indeed.  Relatively solitary and peaceful, full of trail running, yoga, bike rides, church, reading, writing, work.  I asked myself around mile 11 of my trail run, as the 4 Non Blonds lyrics, "To get it all out, what's all in my head" coursed through my cerebral cortex, "What do I have to offer to the world?"  My perspective as a single female, age 29.5, living in California.   As a runner?  An Ivy-league graduate"  A single female with a salary and a mortgage?  As roller-coaster love life (currently at a nadir)?  I am the conglomeration of these entities, trying to do my best each day to be a good person, to be creative in my pursuits, to feed my passions and inspire others, to live and love as best I can while here on Earth.

I go to church sporadically - but I went today and came away with the intent to focus on the happiness not on myself and my tiny existence, but on God.  It is hypothesized that the reason for the 1000% increase in depression since the 1950's is due in large part to the lack of our society's sense of a greater power, a Lord God Almighty, or something like that.  I agree w/ this statement but I dare say the increase incidence of diagnosed depression is because the maker's of Prozac, Zoloft, Welbutrin, etc. make a pretty penny every time we get the blues and seek out a way to feel better.  Whereas before, silent suffering was the norm, these days you tell a doctor you're feeling down or tired or anxious or anti-social or confused or any other transient mood and you can walk out with a prescription of your preferred chemical cocktail. 

I'm not against anti-depressants, not at all.  I don't buy into the "comfortably numb" notion that Americans are numbing themselves through medications.  I think we enable ourselves to cope with life in many ways, medications just being one assure our neurotransmitters are up to the task of dealing with the challenges of life.   Sure, a supportive network of friends and family can help with this regulation as well - but for us loners living states away, with self-induced pressures to be and perform in a certain way, with busy schedules that are hardly conducive to bonding with friends, and without a regular sex life - well, sometimes a little extra seratonin or dopamine in one's system can be just enough to keep us functional and, for lack of a better word, something close to happy.

Anyway, where was I going with this?  Oh yes, my quiet weekend.  "Getting it all out, what's in my head."  I'll be 29.5 in exactly 18 days.  On the precipice of that age at which I used to think I'd be married, have a first kid.  But I'm no either of those things.  I've date more men in the last few years than I care to think about.  Why can't I make a long-term relationship work?  This is a big question for me as I'm relatively easy to get along with, reasonably attractive (my facebook friends rate me as #2 on the best body category), and I do fall in love with people.  I also happen to enjoy sex and men, supposedly dig this type of girl.  The last guy that broke up with me said I was "smart, kind, and very sexy"  but he also said i was "righteous" (i think he meant self-righteous) and "didn't feel comfortable thinking about a relationship".  I'll have to get back to you, my future readers, on what he meant by this - something about something that happened or that I did early on in our relationship (it involves another guy driving me to the airport instead of him.  Extremely juvenile, if you ask me).

So, 29.5.  I stand at the precipice - a strong, independent, attractive, athletic, smart single woman.  I am blessed beyond measure.  And all I want is a good, strong, smart, capable man to take me in his arms, adore me, and have a family with me. When I ask myself what I want, that's my only answer lately.  A family.  A man who loves me.  Why?  Because I feel that's what I've been put on earth to do - to raise a family, to love my children and my husband, to take care of them and to receive the joy that comes with giving and receiving love.

On my short bike ride home from yoga tonight, still sweaty, thinking of what to have for dinner, I passed by one of the small little houses that cost millions of dollars here in menlo park.  I glanced through the bay window and saw, sitting around the dinner table, a family.  A man, woman, and child - talking, eating.  Nearly made me cry.

I've been crying more often lately, most regularly after yoga.  It's the emotional release from all the hip-openers, somehow makes my emotions flow out of me.  I cried in yoga class on wednesday during final shivasana.  The song struck me as poignant and sad.  It went like this: "Goodbye, my lover, goodbye my friend."  There might have been a subtle, "Cause I can't make you love me" line in there, too.  Whatever it was struck a chord and  I had tears streaming down my face, but it was dark and it all blended in with my sweat so no one could see. 

It's still raining in Binghamton. It's been raining all day. It's been raining since it was light enough out to see. And it's been cold, so said rain is turning to ice. It's the kind of cold that penetrates to your bones and kind of sticks there. It's the kind of cold you can't get rid of for days, the kind that makes you shiver in summer when you think about it. Stupid, icky, wet, cold, icy Binghamton. Boo.

I forgot to mention in my last post that I cut my hair when I went home last weekend. It was down to my shoulder blades, but now it's up to the nape of my neck. I loved it at first, then I hated it, and now I'm kind of in the middle. I just think it takes getting used to. I haven't had my hair this short in a long time. It's kind of hard to work with but definitely easier to maintain than the fop I was sporting before. It's kind of nice, not having long hair.

I have to venture out into the stupid, icky, wet, cold iciness of BU to go to a experiment later. I'm taking Psychology 111, so I have to fulfill a research requirement to get credit for the course. Being in an experiment is a hell of a lot easier than writing a paper. It also requires less thought, and the less thought the better. I have other stuff that I need to be thinking about. All my experiments are scheduled and I should have my research requirement fulfilled by spring break. That'll be a huge load off, knowing that everything in that department is done. I only have my experiments, a paper, and one more test to worry about before I can go home on break and relax for ten days. I won't have to even think about school if I don't want to (well, maybe about one paper, but I doubt that).

I've definitely been wasting time today. After my psych test, I felt entitled to relax seeing how I studied like mad crazy for it all day yesterday. I think I did decently, and so I rewarded myself by playing the Sims 2 for... oh, three hours. What a waste of life, I am. Well, waste of life or not, the span of time between the test and the discovery of your grade is the most relaxed, the most carefree. You haven't been murdered by numbers yet, so everything in the world is all well and good.

My best friend from home will hopefully be here to visit all next weekend. :) Excitement. She'll be here between a paper and a test, so it's definitely a good time to for her to visit. I miss her a lot so I'm really happy she took a couple days off and decided to come and visit. Hopefully, Ally, Theo, and Caroline will all be here that weekend, so we can chill. The three of them still have to take me to the bubble tea place since I didn't go last weekend.

Masquerade ball's in a few days and the parentals mailed my costume, so my crisis from last night (not having anything to wear) has been averted. My roommates all think I'm crazy for wearing my pirate costume; a good crazy, they say, but now I'm a little unsure. Oh well. I'll just have to go and find out. Worst comes to worst, I can leave early. Admission is only $6.

I'm out for now. I'm just waiting for the girls to call, then I'm going to dinner. I'm pretty excited about getting a handmade burrito...

They're funny, you know, the little ways that life can bring you back to reality just when things are starting to go well for you.

 

"Something's gotta go wrong cause I'm feeling way too damn good…"

 

It's all relative, though, right?  The good with the bad.  If all we knew was good, we'd nearly perish of apathy.  There has to be bad things in life, otherwise, the good things would become utterly meaningless. 

 

With that said, this week has certainly kept me on my toes.

 

I've known sadness before.  I'll be okay in time.  It's just made me very reflective lately.

 

I want to believe that people are inherently good… but does that mean that it's our environment that causes us to do bad things?  I guess I'm not really talking about something bad happy, but rather the way that other people seem to not hold themselves to high standards.

 

I'm not all about expectations.  Read The Way of the Peaceful Warrior.  It's nice to be assured of certain things, and it's definitely nice to have security… but not to the point of becoming complacent or boring.  I expect a lot out of myself, and I'd like to think it's my right to hold other people accountable for decent standards, too.  I guess there's a chance I wouldn't be hurting so much now if I didn't.  But I need to believe that there are so many wonderful people out there because I know it to be true.

 

Expectations are simply that…. expectations.  I have my fair share of them for myself and for others.  I've learned that what I expect from myself and other people is oftentimes very different from others' expectations of themselves.  This can hurt me.  I suppose I'm making very little sense right now, but that's alright with me.  I know what I'm talking about, and its elusive nature makes writing about it sans specific examples all the more difficult.

 

I don't hold people to incredibly high standards, and I know that I make lots of faults, too.  But some things just cut a little deeper… you know what I mean?

 

Anyway…

 

Guess what I learned in English today… the word "bedlam" actually come from St. Mary's of Bethlehem, a place in renaissance English were "crazy" people were sent and abused… beaten, placed in solitary confinement, deprived of food, etc…. you name it, it was done to them.  At one point they even charged admission to the general public for them to come watch this.  Isn't that sick?  Anyway, the name was condensed into the modern English word "bedlam," or so my English teacher says anyway.  Good old King Lear.

 

And in Calculus today, I learned the rate at which the hands of a clock will be moving away from each other at exactly 9:00 on a big town clock that has a 5 foot hour hand and 7 foot minute hand.  Because everyone wants to know that, right?  So much for conventional, real-world applications.

 

My psychology teacher has started giving out candy to students who make A's on her quizzes.  Yesterday, I gave my free M&Ms away to Chandalae because I didn't want them.  Today, I got smarter and traded my free M&Ms to Chandalae in exchange for some of her Gobstoppers… which were really good, and lasted all the way through having to explain the interviewer illusion in part of Ms. Allen, Matt, and the rest of the class.  I don't care what other people think… I actually like that class, and it fascinates me.  I enjoy reading the textbook… there, I said it…. I enjoy that textbook!!!  Not to mention the fact that it gives me something to do during Civics every day, but in all honestly, I like the book a lot.

 

And now I'm out of school for 5 days.  I'm kind of sad, honestly.  School's not been too bad this year.  I don't know, it's something about the last minute thrill of doing all of your homework right before it's due… it grows on you.  I'm kind of joking right now, yet kind of being serious, also.  I've made friends with a lot of great people this year.  Being home for five days will be nice in some ways, but in other regards, I'm only going to end up feeling terribly lazy.

 

And my biggest fear is that coming back with result in another week like last week, and I definitely don't want that at all.  So let's hang out, okay?

 

My sister came home today!!!!  YES!!!  This is very exciting for me, and it made dinner tonight so much more entertaining.  I missed her… a lot. 

 

WW was cancelled tonight due to the chance of sleet and freezing rain, so I got to watch all of the Gilmore Girls episode.  In fact, I even watched a TV show besides that one tonight, which is quite unusual for me:  Everybody Loves Raymond.  That show is hilarious.  The rest of my family was at Wal-Mart, so I sat in my den, watched the show, and laughed really hard out loud to myself.  It was a good time, and I mean that.  But back to Gilmore Girls… I don't like the new producer.  The show's just not what it once was.  I guess today was better in some ways… at least it didn't end in Kate chucking her car keys at the TV, but then again, I wasn't in the same house as her this time, so for all I know, she could have =D.

 

Who wants to go see the movie Bobby?  I actually want to go see it.  I think it will be really good.  It comes out this week!

 

I'm thinking it's time for me to go catch up on some badly needed sleep.  The past few nights have been rough.  Evan could tell you why.  Or I guess I could go read some more psychology....

 

Later.