No, I'm not limping...much
Jan. 17th, 2009 12:29 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
vanillafluffyI ended up staying home yesterday---which I feel guilty and anxious about. Remembered that it was movie night at church---arrived two-thirds of the way through---touched base with CapeGypsy that the start time on Monday is 10 AM.
Stopped by WalMart on the way home and dropped $6 on a basic toilet seat, because the old one was cracked and taped---and NOT worth spending a half-hour scrubbing. (You don't want details. Trust me on this.) I also got sucked into the bargain movie bin, where I found Die Hard 2, which I've always liked better than 1 or 3, although they both get shown more.
Came home and watched What Not to Wear. Plugged in the movie after that and was gleefully reminded why I like that one so much: It's got William Saddler as the bad guy. It also opens with nekkid William Saddler, which I'd completely forgotten, since the TV version edits that out. (Philistines!)
Changed out the toilet seat---it's not rocket science---so I can use that bath instead of the one down the hall.
Returning to my room after taking care of some dishes in the sink, I slipped. Terrazzo. Socks. Bad combination. (My usual house slippers with the rubber treads are in the wash.) Skinned my left knee and pulled something in my back, left side. Thankfully, it isn't screaming this morning---just whimpering a bit---but I took a painkiller last night and had a strage little dream.
Strange little dream: I was strolling down Forrest Avenue (Staten Island again---there's a Forest Ave here, too), going into various hair salons and I noticed they all seemed to have poodles in residence. I stopped at one place that was a few blocks away from the telephone company where my mom used to work...again, several poodles. Either there was a fad for tinting poodles' hair or these were some genetically engineered poodles, because I'd seen some pink ones earlier, and this chick had a royal blue one, a standard---very striking.
I started talking to the stylist, about my hair and what I did and didn't want, and she told me that she'd had a couple of the smaller toys since they were under two pounds. I got into the chair and was looking up...the salon, which was one big room, empty except for the chair, was painted very vividly. The walls were an intense pinkish red and the popcorn ceiling was purple...I noticed that there was a heart the same color as the purple popcorn texturing, and commented on it. She told me I was the only one who'd ever seen it.
Instead of cutting my hair, she started tattooing me---not with a tattoo gun, but with sewing needles, from side-to-side on my abdomen. It didn't hurt, but it felt strange. An older guy, pudgy and balding, came from a back room to tell the stylist something. I could hear birds squawking back there; maybe the poodles had some parrot DNA in their cocktail?! Come to think of it, I never DID hear them bark....
When she was through with the guy, I told her I really hadn't planned on getting a tattoo today, just a haircut. I had had a chance to look at it while she was talking, and there wasn't much to see---no ink. It was just a straight line like a scratch, and what freaked me a little was seeing two needles sticking up from my skin, about four inches apart. She nodded, pulled out the needles---which didn't hurt---and put them into little magnetic cup implanted on her arm.
Yes, I have some peculiar dreams, but at least the poodles weren't talking. What brought all this on, aside from the painkillers? Hmm. Staten Island and poodles both equal childhood---I got a standard poodle puppy for Christmas when I was six---and I recently had a conversation about dogs where I spoke glowingly of the breed. I think the idea of genetically engineered poodles can be chalked up to viewing a lot of Dark Angel season two the other day.
As far as my hair goes, I DO need a trim. I had my major haircut last July, and haven't had anything done to it since. (I wouldn't mind getting more tattoos, either, although money is a factor, as it is with everything in my life.)
The purple heart...on the ceiling...could be a couple of things. Nobody knows the troubles I've seen. (There's plenty of stuff from my life that never makes it to LJ.) Most people don't look up, IE, most people are focused on their own problems. I saw it because I'm unique/special...or at least, my subconscious likes to think so.
And how was YOUR Friday evening?
Stopped by WalMart on the way home and dropped $6 on a basic toilet seat, because the old one was cracked and taped---and NOT worth spending a half-hour scrubbing. (You don't want details. Trust me on this.) I also got sucked into the bargain movie bin, where I found Die Hard 2, which I've always liked better than 1 or 3, although they both get shown more.
Came home and watched What Not to Wear. Plugged in the movie after that and was gleefully reminded why I like that one so much: It's got William Saddler as the bad guy. It also opens with nekkid William Saddler, which I'd completely forgotten, since the TV version edits that out. (Philistines!)
Changed out the toilet seat---it's not rocket science---so I can use that bath instead of the one down the hall.
Returning to my room after taking care of some dishes in the sink, I slipped. Terrazzo. Socks. Bad combination. (My usual house slippers with the rubber treads are in the wash.) Skinned my left knee and pulled something in my back, left side. Thankfully, it isn't screaming this morning---just whimpering a bit---but I took a painkiller last night and had a strage little dream.
Strange little dream: I was strolling down Forrest Avenue (Staten Island again---there's a Forest Ave here, too), going into various hair salons and I noticed they all seemed to have poodles in residence. I stopped at one place that was a few blocks away from the telephone company where my mom used to work...again, several poodles. Either there was a fad for tinting poodles' hair or these were some genetically engineered poodles, because I'd seen some pink ones earlier, and this chick had a royal blue one, a standard---very striking.
I started talking to the stylist, about my hair and what I did and didn't want, and she told me that she'd had a couple of the smaller toys since they were under two pounds. I got into the chair and was looking up...the salon, which was one big room, empty except for the chair, was painted very vividly. The walls were an intense pinkish red and the popcorn ceiling was purple...I noticed that there was a heart the same color as the purple popcorn texturing, and commented on it. She told me I was the only one who'd ever seen it.
Instead of cutting my hair, she started tattooing me---not with a tattoo gun, but with sewing needles, from side-to-side on my abdomen. It didn't hurt, but it felt strange. An older guy, pudgy and balding, came from a back room to tell the stylist something. I could hear birds squawking back there; maybe the poodles had some parrot DNA in their cocktail?! Come to think of it, I never DID hear them bark....
When she was through with the guy, I told her I really hadn't planned on getting a tattoo today, just a haircut. I had had a chance to look at it while she was talking, and there wasn't much to see---no ink. It was just a straight line like a scratch, and what freaked me a little was seeing two needles sticking up from my skin, about four inches apart. She nodded, pulled out the needles---which didn't hurt---and put them into little magnetic cup implanted on her arm.
Yes, I have some peculiar dreams, but at least the poodles weren't talking. What brought all this on, aside from the painkillers? Hmm. Staten Island and poodles both equal childhood---I got a standard poodle puppy for Christmas when I was six---and I recently had a conversation about dogs where I spoke glowingly of the breed. I think the idea of genetically engineered poodles can be chalked up to viewing a lot of Dark Angel season two the other day.
As far as my hair goes, I DO need a trim. I had my major haircut last July, and haven't had anything done to it since. (I wouldn't mind getting more tattoos, either, although money is a factor, as it is with everything in my life.)
The purple heart...on the ceiling...could be a couple of things. Nobody knows the troubles I've seen. (There's plenty of stuff from my life that never makes it to LJ.) Most people don't look up, IE, most people are focused on their own problems. I saw it because I'm unique/special...or at least, my subconscious likes to think so.
And how was YOUR Friday evening?