It’s recently been suggested to me that I’m making up these “sleep talkings.” Or that Drew is faking it. While neither is true, now I’m all paranoid. So that when this happened last night:
Drew: What about them? What about them?
Me: What about what?
Drew: …The ultimate terminator.
Me: …Really?
I wondered if he was faking it. I’ve been robbed of my blind trust.
Pretty sure this one was real, though. Pretty sure.
Last night Drew fell asleep while I started rereading The Hunger Games.
After about half an hour, I switched off the light, which startled/terrified him, after which, he told me:
Drew: I would have killed myself.
Me: No…don’t kill yourself.
Drew: If I’d been in the a’s.
Me: The what? (Thinking, “the baseball team?”)
Drew: The 80s. I’d be so scared. Things just happen, and then (muffled, muffled, muffled) and you just do.
At work we recently hired this woman, who everyone agrees rocks. She happens to be (newly) married to a guy who also works in our office, and who also rocks. Yesterday as I was parking, they pulled up across from me and parked. And I sat there with my head cocked, thinking about what it would be like to work right down the hall from your spouse.
I guess it would be fun…? But, on the downside, I feel like it would also be an infringement on personal space. What if you’re having one of those days where you’re annoyed by everything and everyone? Do you have to hide it from them? What if you have some story of work confrontation – but rather than going home and telling it, clearly skewed so you are the victim/victor, your spouse knows the whole thing because it’s their co-worker than locked horns with you?
On the upside, carpooling. So…there’s that.
Speaking of working with your spouse, two of my Facebook friends, who happen to be married to each other, are working on a show somewhere. She is directing and he is acting in it. He keeps posting things about how awesome of a director she is. That’s sweet, but also makes me cringe. Too close. Too much interaction. What if you were bickering on the way to rehearsal, and now you have to direct how your spouse is supposed to be acting with their play-spouse? I don’t know, man.
I guess that is extra cringey for me because I have residual trauma regarding directing. When I think about it, but put myself in a stage manager role instead of a director role, it’s not that bad. I guess I could do that.
Thoughts? Working with your spouse? My parents have been teachers in the same district forever, but at least they’re at different schools…sometimes.
Late at night is when I get my bursts of inspiration for cleaning. Tonight I went through two boxes of stuff my parents gifted me with months ago…and pared it down to the throwaways, the donatables, and the keepsies.
Example throwaway: notebooks from college classes filled with notes about the Puritans and protest theatre. (Two different classes.) Nothing really of note to keep here. Although Drew pointed out my copious margin notes: “Syche + Drew” and then one page where I apparently decided to practice signing my first name with his last name. As we pondered this, I said, “Whoops!” and he said “GAWD, you’re obsessed with me or something.”
Example donatable: Pretty tin box, that I remember always having, but don’t have any specific attachment to, and which I will be much happier giving away than moving two more times.
Example keepsie: A diary I kept around the time I was 5 and 6. My bffk (best friend for kindergarten) (well, sort of…I mean I guess she was my best girl friend, but I’d still say my two best bffks were boys) actually went through and wrote “I love Kelly” on most of the pages (she’s Kelly), but some of the pages still have my original journal entries. I present you with two of them:
And from later…I would say around 4th or 5th grade:
That being said, today I tried out a set of hot rollers that a friend gave me, and they worked great! And I spent much time looking in the mirror and admiring my pretty hair, and taking pictures of myself. So don’t worry about me, I’ve got plenty of self-confidence now. A generous amount. Maybe even too much?
Ah, the joys of being a girl. 
This happens out of nowhere:
Drew: Where?
Me: What?
Drew sits up and picks up Practical Magic off of my bookshelf.
Drew: Should I have been saving the other letters?
Me: What letters?
Drew: From…never mind.
Drew puts down Practical Magic and lies back down.
Drew: It’s not real anyway.
Drew: Oh.
Me: (thinking) Awww…that was cute.
Drew: R.
Me: (thinking) He’s clearly not talking to me at all.
Drew: 2.
Me: (thinking) Possibly he’s spelling out some kind of code?
Drew: So I guess… *sigh* He’s your enemy. (pause) Yeah.
Me: LOL
Drew: Hmm?
Adorable!
I started reading the Alanna books recently, by Tamora Pierce.
I remember reading the first book when I was a tween (or so), and I remember liking it, but also, the only thing I could remember was that she was dressed like a boy, and couldn’t go swimming with the other boys, and also, when she “becomes a woman” things get awkward.
But I’m reading them again now on the insistence of a reader friend of mine, who recently handed me an oversized gift bag filled with Tamora Pierce books for 12-year-olds. But we like them because of their strong female protagonists, who make smart, level-headed decisions.
Anyway, I just wanted to point out that the illustrator for this edition of these books does a great job getting in the feeling of the book, the horse, the cat, the purple fog that is her magic, whatever – but CANNOT seem to capture a facial expression.
Behold:
This just cracks me up. I have to get Drew to make the face on the cover of the third book, and get a picture of it. It’s perfect.
I also noticed that they’ve redone the books (a couple times) with more badass covers. Like so:
Darker, and “cooler,” and possibly more representative of the actual feel of the books. I guess maybe I’m paying more attention to stuff like this, as I get more comfortable and familiar with my job.
Got a great YA novel recommendation? Leave it here for me! (It definitely doesn’t have to be fantasy.)
Drew (from a dead sleep): NO! (Sits straight up)
Me (not at all asleep): What happened? Are you okay?
Drew: I swallowed all my letters.
Me: No, you’re okay.
Drew: I need some – do you have something liquidy? (Drinks all the water I have nearby.)
Okay, poor guy. No more playing Words With Friends right before bed.
I was so excited when this happened last night – even though it was brief it was funny.
Drew: *indistinct mumbling*
Me: What’s that?
Drew: *indistinct* Gtine
Me: A…guillotine?
Drew: You made a guillotine.
Me: Pretty sure I didn’t.
Drew: Yes.
So mostly today was just chill. I slept in, sat around reading, went to the gym, accidentally stole someone’s treadmill (totally not my fault), bought some fudgsicles, took a shower, washed some dishes, watered plants…
Then Drew came home and Facebooked me a Clue.
That started a 3-hour treasure hunt, that took us from Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, to Sean Connery, to Milagra Ridge, to the Pacifica Pier, to Craigslist Missed Connections, to Barnes and Noble at Tanforan, to our closet.
It was a lot of walking outside in the wind.
But I found the first outside clue (at Milagra Ridge) pretty quickly.
I understood what “tadpole graveyard” was referring to…but that clue was well-hidden on another of the many Pacifica ridges.
After I finally figured it out, we trekked back to where the car was parked.
Next stop: Rainbow Brite and the Star Stealers FTW!
MISSED CONNECTION…I’ve never had a missed connection before! (Missed Connections is a section on Craigslist where you can put up a message for a stranger, maybe someone with whom you exchanged a meaningful glance on the street, in the hopes that they’ll read it and email you and you can fall in love. Or whatever.)
(Man, that table has become kind of a mess.)
Fun Fact: Drew has since gotten two responses to this ad, and neither of them are from me.
To Barnes and Noble!
While I looked through all the copies of A Streetcar Named Desire, a man perused the Shakespeare volumes on the higher shelf.
And as long as we’re at Barnes and Noble anyway, we might as well pick up a couple Stephen King books to round out my collection.
Then home, because I had to go through all these shoes…
And this laundry basket of socks…
To find my present: a passport! Well, everything I need to just go in and get my passport.
I’ve never had a passport, but I really want one. And it’s one of my 2011 New Year’s Resolutions to get one. But it’s one of those things that just kind of never gets done… Best birthday present ever! And best day ever! So much fun. And I’m glad Drew wanted to document the whole thing.
I probably don’t talk him up enough. Trust me – he’s the best. Like, ever.
The Cameraphone Diaries 