Sweet Dreams... are not something I regularly have

I have scary dreams a lot. It's why I try not to watch crime shows or anything too close to bed time...I will make those shows into my dreams and I will wind up being the main character of some horrific story. It's stressful and I've lost a lot of good sleep that way, and sure do love sleeping. Therefore, I cut out the scary/stressful shows.

However last night I had one of the most terrifying dreams I have ever had and I have no idea where it came from. I was having to get my right leg amputated at the knee, I have no idea why. But I was scared and I was destroyed. I was crying and crying and crying, there would be no more dancing for me..there wouldn't even be any more walking, I was going to have to be in a wheelchair. During my dream I was in the chair/bed type thing getting ready for the surgery except they weren't knocking me out. They were giving me small doses of drugs; they wanted to give me just enough to where I would be okay with them cutting into me. Except every time they would start I could still feel it and I would scream for them to stop, begging them to give me more drugs or put me under. But they wouldn't. I luckily woke up before the procedure was finished. Unluckily I woke up at 4am and my heart was racing so fast that I could not get back to sleep.

I looked up at dreamdictionary.com what it means....and apparently it stands for feeling limited in movements and where I want to go in life. Except I don't think I feel that way, I feel pretty good about the movement I making in getting to where I want to be in my life. Hmmm.

A few things to start off the week

Sometimes I look at those legs over there on the side of my blog and get a little jealous. I want them to be my legs, because then that would mean I would own those socks (and beautiful hard wood floors). Alas, they are not my legs, I could probably go out and find me some socks like that and make my leg's dreams come true...but I'm too lazy to go on that search. I am even too lazy to search the internets for them...and I do believe that that's the definition of lazy right there.

In other news....I am totally loving the new format of So You Think You Can Dance. I do not love all the finalists, nor do I love all the All Stars (Comfort, I'm talking to you) but I love the show so much I just wish it could be on every night for my viewing pleasure! Also, I can never get enough of talking about it...so if you would like to chat me up about it sometime I am all ears (and eyes.)

Oh, remember when I said that I found that I could motivate myself to work out if I just reminded myself that my parents worked out everyday? Yeah...that quit working. I need new motivation cause I'm just not finding it on my own. The weather isn't helping out either...it's just motivating me to stay in sweats...and I totally don't need to be in shape to wear sweats.

Lucky You

I just turned in my portfolio for Poetry, putting it together I realized that I really liked some of the things I had written and they were all pretty different. I don't want to lose this form of expression, and I believe that just like everything else, if you don't practice you won't get better. So, I've made the decision to dedicate a post each week to a poem. I'm going to try to continue expanding my knowledge on different forms and styles. It's like I'm putting myself is summer school, for fun.

Here is one to start us off:

Lost, and finally found

I followed the wrong star home
and ended up here
stars dancing under my feet
water holding it’s breath above my head
I’m afraid to move (or even breathe)
I might upset the balance that’s so precariously upheld

This place is nothing like the one I know
where magic isn’t possible
and gravity is never defied
where people move forward, determined looks
and frown lines etched deep into their skin
they never look up to see another’s eyes

I followed the wrong star home
and I think I’ll stay here
until the moon tells me it’s safe
or the sun urges me awake

Judgement is swift and fair

I can be judgmental. I try not to be but sometimes I have to be. It reminds me of this:

(from storypeople)

I think there are some people who just want to be judged an idiot. Otherwise they just wouldn't do and say stupid things. But since they do I feel it's my right, nay, my obligation to judge them. I know that when I do or say something ridiculous that other people are sure to be judging me so really it's only fair that I return the favor.

Dear friends,

I am going to do a little bit of bragging for myself because I'm proud of some things I've done, and I've learned that often times if you don't toot your own horn no one else is gonna do it for you. The noise that horn makes sure sounds good sometimes.

I am getting close to ending my third quarter back in college. I am an old college student, but everyday I am proud of the fact that I am back in school finishing what I started all those years ago. This quarter I took two writing courses, and I've shared some of what I've written on this here blog page. It was scary for me to share what I wrote, because I'd never had to do that before, in the past my papers had been between me and my professors, I did not have to worry about anyone else seeing them.

Today I got back one of the papers I had written, something that was unlike anything I had written before. It was a short story, very short, it was only 5 pages long. However, on the very last page my professor had written this: "Absolutely brilliant! Bravo! I love this - and Nora's daughter's story! I'm in awe!" I think I teared up a little bit when I read that. Something I wrote was brilliant? I could put someone in awe? Unbelievable.

Friends, I wrote a story and someone thought it was brilliant. And even though it was a very short story and even if no one else ever sees it I am proud of myself for that.

Love,

Jill

P.S. - Being proud of yourself feels really good...you should be proud of yourself too, share what you're proud of and I'll proud of you too :)

Motivation

Last night I almost didn't go to my night class because all of my jeans fit too tight. I threw a giant fit, almost started crying and sat in my bed in just my undies pouting until guilt took hold of me and forced me into some pants and out the door.

I've been trying not to miss as many days working out, but for some reason it doesn't make me feel any better about myself. I know it will eventually but, I'm not very patient. I'm more of an immediate satisfaction kinda girl. However, I find it hard to keep myself motivated when I'm not actually working towards an end goal and I'm very good at finding reasons to stay home instead of going to the gym. Not a good combination, and it doesn't help my jeans fit any better.

The motivation I've been using lately is my parents. They work out every morning. EVERY MORNING! Well, except Sunday, that's the holy day. Anyhow, when I start to convince myself that I need to stay home instead of going to the gym I replay the conversation of my mom telling me about her daily workout routine including sit-ups and cardio. And I figure if my parents can go to the gym every day I should be able to do it too, it's hard to find excuses after that. Or, I guess I could just go into the dressing room and try on my jeans again.

Butternut Squash/Sweet Potato/Portabella Mushroom Soup

It should come as no surprise that I am not a fancy chef. I have never had a flair for culinary creations...I'm more on the taste tester side of expertise. However, my boyfriend Casey really loves to cook, and since sometimes I feel bad letting him do all the work I help out and sometimes I even pick the recipes we try and so far I've done a really great job. (Yay me!) :)

On Wednesday it was grey and rainy so we decided some soup sounded good...after over an hour of recipe hunting I made the decision for us that we would make Butternut Squash soup. We went to the store for the ingredients and Casey decided it needed to be spiced up with some sweet potatoes and portabello mushrooms. (I would've followed the directions to the T so, it's a good thing he's more adventurous.)

The prepping of the food was by far the hardest part because that damn squash did not want to be peeled, and I almost lost some slices of my skin. Which, probably would not have made the soup taste better and I probably would have never cooked again. Anyhow once everything was sliced, diced and sauteed it all got to simmer together in juices for forty minutes. I got bored so I drank some delicious wine (because you can't cook without wine, I hear there's some sort of law against that or something. The wine was: Insatiable. A blend of Cabernet Sauvignon, Barbera, Zinfandel, Syrah and Nebbiolo.)
Anyhow, even with the wine drinking and the Jeopardy! on t.v. I got bored waiting for the soup to be done so I could blend it into perfection so i took some pictures of me looking hungry by the food. You're lucky I am only posting one of those pictures because they did not get better with the more I took.

Finally time was up! I poured everything into my blender, and pureed the crap out of it, poured it back into the pots so Casey could add the portabellas, we decided they would be better NOT blended into a pulp. Casey whipped together a salad, and created a dipping sauce for the bread
I added sour cream to my soup (because that's what the recipe told me to do). Casey ate his as is because he thinks sour cream is gross (I know, What?!? is he crazy? Possibly.) Anyhow, the soup turned out so amazing and we have a ton of leftovers, we even had enough to put some in the freezer for another rainy day. I can sort of see why people enjoy cooking, but I still much prefer to just do the eating!