Two Houses

Last night, I dreamed of two houses.

The first was tucked away in a cozy neighborhood somewhere in L.A. It stood supported by four very tall trees at each corner, three stories with the fronts all open and white gauzy curtains blowing out at the sides. It was a basket house and it got gradually larger at the top. The interior was very simple and all natural colors. I was fascinated by the idea of using trees as a support system, turning the building into a treehouse, and hidden right in the middle of a city! I saw a group of children nearby and they had supplies and tools all around them and they told me that they built the house and they showed me the piece of paper that had the directions and diagram: "How To Build A Basket House". The whole place housed a sense of peace and mystery.

*warning: stop reading if you don't want to read something bloody and awful!

The second house was a one story concrete block and the front was open but with a glass face. I went there with a woman, an acquaintance. Because the front was transparent, you could see inside and it was very dark and dirty and it was full of water. There were no windows other than the front, I could see debris and one or two indistinguishable pieces of furniture and I was mesmerised by the dark beauty of the water and the things floating in it and the colors. I wanted to take photographs of it. Another woman was walking by us and she looked like she was on her way to work. I asked if she would be a model for a moment because she was wearing red lipstick and had brown hair and I thought it would look interesting. I took a couple of pictures and then she left. But I didn't want to stop because I didn't feel like I'd gotten a good picture that really showed the beauty that i saw inside that house. So I asked my friend if she would model and she said yes but no nudes and don't use these for anything. I thought that was strange but didn't care too much I just wanted to take more photos.

I took one and I could tell I was getting closer. I took another and saw that something was floating toward the window. I took a third and the camera showed that it was a woman's body floating toward us, and it was all white, as though it had been there a long time or maybe it wasn't real, like a mannequin. And then the story of what had happened in that house flashed through my mind very quickly.

A woman had been murdered there in the most awful way, piece by piece head first with a strange log cutting contraption. There was lots of blood. And screaming. The image of this man covered in her blood and pushing her into the machine as she screamed kept going through my head for the rest of the dream, like an overture.

And then the woman I was with took the memory card out of my camera and said that she wanted to hold onto it, implying that she wanted to make sure that no one saw the pictures of her. The police came and we told them that something bad had happened there and they asked if we had proof, because the body had disappeared. And then the woman I was with began acting even more strangely saying that she had the proof but they couldn't see it. I could sense that something bad was going to happen again and then....

the phone rang. Thank GOD! Or, thank Laura for calling at that very moment.

I can't stop thinking about how strange it was to dream of two houses that were so very different, and also wondering if the dead woman and my acquaintance were one and the same...

Pathetic

I was on my way out the door to the gym, but now I'm writing a post instead. here's why:

Last night I spent the night at my good friend Sheila's house. We watched the Oscars and ate the latest incarnation of my spinach and artichoke dip and drank wine. We laughed, we cried, I was particularly inspired by the folks who won best song, and their call to "make art!"

I came home this morning with the intention of heading straight back out to work off all the dairy I've been eating (as though it were crack, and i an addict). Sometimes cutting something out of your diet can turn it into a tempting vice...

But when I came home, Mister came down and presented me with yet ANOTHER battle wound, this one the sickest yet. It took me three rinsings to get all the blood off of his fur to see the wound for what it was, and expose it enough to put his extra strength ointment into it. All of his other wounds had finally healed and I thought we were in the clear. Not so, not so. This one is relatively superficial, it still isn't as bad as that one time with the raccoon and the huge open hole that I had to stick back together with this weird super glue fake skin stuff. I do have faith in my nursing ability at this point in our relationship, it's mister's ability to heal in his old age that has me worried.

(By the way, according to Jon Stewart's method of figuring out your stripper name, one of my many options is "Mister Pleasant"...)

So now, I've decided that it is more important for me to hang out in my room with meow than to get to the gym. I'll do it later. I mean it. I'll go tonight after work.

Speaking of my room, I must tell you how exceptionally clean and zen-like it is. I've re-arranged it yet again, and now the focal point has become my beautiful valentine's day orchid. It is living happily in front of the window, and every day it seems to grow new blooms. I was very nervous at first, but it seems so happy now that I feel more confident that i won't kill it.

I had another show with my band, Dig A Pony. It was raining again. The sound system at this little cafe is truly horrendous, it sounded like I was singing through a blanket, and not in a good way. I probably shouldn't have used the mic, the place is small enough. But at the time I didn't really care. I was really focused on what the songs are all about. Most of them I wrote about my journey out here, what I was chasing and what and who I left behind. It's been a year, and I'm feeling pensive. I have changed a lot, and my vision of my life has changed. I think that I have become simpler. Stupider, maybe, but I think it's okay to be stupid for a year. Just not much longer than that or it has more of a chance at becoming a permanent state, instead of a rest.

Right now, I am desperately anxious to see my family next month when we convene in London. I miss them all a little too much, it hurts. MUST MOVE CLOSER. Patience, my child. A virtue I think on every day... when does patience become pathetic? When is it time to pick up and make something happen? Looking forward to some Wall Sister Magic. You'd think that in Southern California I'd be surrounded by Glitz and Glamour, but I have yet to see anything that really compares to what occurs when the three of us get together. My sisters are the epitome of Glamour, and how it translates to everyday living. Emmy looks like a movie star in Carrharts and cow manure, and Soe looks like a supermodel in a flour-encrusted apron. It's all about the attitude and being yourself. Now, my challenge is how to be famously intriguing whilst cleaning my cat's pussing neck... He is so grounded.

I don't have a specific topic, so I'm set to ramble.

Mister got in another fight and has a slice in his ear. I cleaned it with peroxide and put neosporin on it, that's all they would do at the vet, I know. He came in this morning and his eyes were all black and his fur was all tufty and dirty and had little pieces coming out. I saw the spots where someone had bitten him and looked for blood, found none on his throat, but the ear is pretty gross, it's deep.
He's fine though. Looking as regal as ever.

I made pizza for dinner two nights in a row. Trader Joe's is selling pizza dough now for a dollar, and last night I made whole wheat crust and roasted japanese eggplant and onions and mushrooms, basil, spinach and leftover sauce from Brian and I's gnocchi extraveganza this weekend. Carolshine came over and did most of the work: as soon as I found out that she'd moonlighted at American Flatbread in her youth, I started calling her the pizza guru.

So Brian and I had a cooking craze this past weekend, we made gnocchi with tomato sauce. The first batch came out okay, the second came out as mush, but the third came out perfectly. I learned a lot and want to try it again. The next morning we made birds in a nest with hollandaise sauce. Brian made the birds and I made the sauce. The first try was a complete failure because i was using a metal bowl for the double boiler and the yolks cooked immediately. So I switched bowls and started over and this batch came out PERFECTLY!!! BUT, I did decide that next time I will use vinegar instead of lemon juice for hollandaise on eggs, and use lemon only if topping a fish or vegetable.

I think that the next time I cook for someone, I'm going to have to do a repeat of what I now consider to be my signature seafood dish. The trick is getting a really fresh and beautiful salmon steak. All you have to do is a broil/poach in the oven. Top the fish with a nice coating of your favorite miso paste. Place in a baking dish with a lip. Add liquid to come up halfway to the top of the fish. And the liquid is just orange juice, soy sauce, and chopped shallots! I'm pretty critical of my cooking in that I'm always looking for ways to improve the recipe. But this one might be perfect as is. Try it and let me know what you think.

That's all for now, I'm tired and must go and snuggle with meow.

I'm not dead

I just get restless in front of the computer lately. I'm sorry mummy, I'll think of something amazing and long to write soon. Oh, my band has a myspace now and there are a couple of recordings of our practice on there. Let's see, what's the link?
http://www.myspace.com/digapony1

See? that took forever and now my eyes are going square!!! Must stop-need fresh air and sunlight now!!!!!!!