Bitter Sweet Dreams

Ok, so last night I had a dream that there were zombies. And they weren't old fashioned black and white movie zombies that can barely move 4 feet in 10 minutes. No-no, they were the fast "28 Days Later" kinds of zombies who chased us like hell in order to eat us.

This Zombie dream had me thinking of Michael Jackson's Thriller music video, despite the difference in Zombie speed. The zombies were really slow there and when they converged on Michael's girl, they seemed to only want to hug her or something. I literally remember thinking, "Just let them get you. They just want to touch or hug you. This will all be over soon." This all stems from my defeatest attitude that occasionally surfaces. My line is, "If my life were a horror movie, I'd play the extra. (yes, even in my own horror movie). And I'd be one of the first extras to die."

Anyways, contrary to the Thriller Zombies, there was no mistaking what they wanted to do in my dream. I saw them take a bite out of one of the people running away with me. Man, that sucked. And then, if I remember correctly, I was cornered by one and I thought, "ok, this shouldn't hurt. This is just a dream. They can't really bite me." But no, they bit me, and it hurt. **sad face**

I've been having weirdo dreams for as long as I could remember. They're always vivid. I know some people who barely remember any of their dreams. I, on the other hand, remember my dreams amazingly well and often. At times, I even experience physical pain. I remember having a dream when I was a kid, younger than 9, and Freddy Kruger was chasing me. At the end of the dream, I remember running towards a white door, because apparently that door meant safety. Just as I reached it, he slashed at my back-which hurt like hell- and I woke up with my back hurting. I asked my sister to look at my back and she saw four scratches across the part of my back I couldn't have cleanly scratched myself. I know most people would say I hurt my back (somehow scratching myself on my mattress) while I was sleeping and the Freddy Kruger dream resulted from that. Blah blah blah. And it's not like I really believe Freddy Kruger was attacking me. It's the mystery of the scratch marks that freak me out more than anything else.

My dreams have been disturbing in other ways. When I was 13 and living in Palestine, my dreams revolved around religion and the End of Times for months. I still have my journal that I used to write in documenting this craziness. I guess it's then that my sleeping problems first started. I was 13/14 and did not want to sleep at night because my dreams felt too real. I was so frustrated that I couldn't just dream about stupid things like Freddy Kruger any more. No, I had to dream about the end of times night after night. And if you believe in them, that's scarier than anything else-or any monster- you can dream of.

But of course I have my amazingly stupid and pointless dreams. Those are my favorite. There are two that stick out in my head. In one dream- my friends and I call it the infamous "Fruit of the Loom"dream-the guys dressed up as fruit from the Fruit of the Loom commercials are chasing me. They were angry. I'm laughing even as I tell you this because it's so amazingly funny even til this day. And the fact that my friends and I know what I'm talking about when I say, "The Fruit of the Loom" dream also tickles me.

In amazingly stupid dream #2 there's a chicken-man. His head is a man's head, his body is a chicken. What does chicken-man do? He takes a bite out of his own wings. I'd like to think that if any of us had delicious chicken wings for arms, we'd do the same. Anyways, I remember this being so funny that I laughed WHILE I was sleeping. Upon seeing my sleep-laugh, mom woke me up asking, "what's so funny?" The chicken-man dream still cracks me up, even if it sounds lame to everyone around me. Come on! The guy ate his own chicken-wing arms!!! That's hilarious!

Those are enough dream revelations for you, Cyber World.

Scatter Brained

• I'm so scatter brained, I don't even have a clear way of beginning this blog.
• Sometimes the Palestinian-Israeli issue seems so frustrating and overwhelming to write about, I just avoid trying. Sorry.
• I bought new brown boots (?) or something of that nature. I'll probably own them for 5 years. I used to a gift card, so don't give me that look.
• I bought the soundtrack to "Slumdog Millionaire" and then regretted it. The soundtrack is ok, but I cursed myself for not being like the rest of the world and just downloading key songs. I could've used my gift cards towards the Harry Potter recording of book 7 that I wanted. I wanted it and should've just saved up money.
• I enjoy Award shows like the Golden Globes and Oscars way too much. I need a life.
• Banan's talking to me right now cause she's sick of sitting in Bread Co. She sounds like she's about to go crazy.
• Kurt Warner is the model of someone who's good and keeps working hard and God keeps rewarding him. I can't help but sound religious here. But I really believe it! Leave me alone!
• I had a dream last night that my mosque's Imam was preaching about how we idolize Pujols way too much. Then he proceeded to tell us an Albert Pujols story to impress us. What does that mean!?

To Be Continued....

P.S. Banan is now talking like Elmo. It's REALLY time to go...

Gaza Doctor Receives Angry Reception at Press Conference

Americans have NO IDEA

About the seige, before the bombardment... Israeli academic at Ben-Gurion University, Neve Gordon, has described the Israeli Siege of Gaza as an "experiment in famine". He says the siege is "not really about the bombardment of Israeli citizens or even about Israel’s ongoing efforts to undermine Hamas. It is simply a new draconian strategy aimed at denying the Palestinians their most basic right to self-determination. It is about showing them who is in control, about breaking their backs, so that they lower their expectations and bow down to Israeli demands. The Palestinians understood this and courageously destroyed their prison wall while crying out into the wilderness for international support. Instead of the expected outrage, the only response they received was a weak echo of their own cry for help."[3] (http://www.inminds.co.uk/end.gaza.siege.9.feb.2008.php)

Watch.

Palestinians have learned much from their Israeli neighbors. When it comes to the Palestinians, the world is just as prejudiced as the Israelis.

The life of a Palestinian is worth as much as how it could protect an Israeli. If the Israeli government has done one thing without prejudice, it is in choosing their victims.

Step right up to the amazing circus known as the Palestinian-Israeli conflict. Come see the way the Palestinians are forced to evacuate their homes, which will be bulldozed in order to make room for Israeli settlers. Genocide is a way of life! Come! Come see how the animals in this show dare to scream at the injustice! Who knew they could talk, let alone scream!? Come watch the blood flow in the streets all in the name of security! Remember kids, you must sacrifice your humanity in order to gain security! Do not fear the wrath of God in response to your killing of innocent people, for God has promised you this land, thus giving you the green light to kill. Kill. Kill! He wouldn’t have it any other way.

Right to defend themselves? Bah! That’s only a phrase we know! Like retaliation. Ours. Like terrorism. Ours. Like homeland. Ours. Like diaspora. Ours. Like security. Ours. Like rights. Ours. Like Palestine. Ours. Ours. Ours. It’s all ours.

Let them tell you how the world would be a better place without Gaza entirely. Destroy!Destroy! Destroy! It must be gone. Be done with them! They must disappear because they practiced democracy! We told them lies. We told them we supported democracy. Then we took away what little freedom they had left. Freedom to eat! Freedom to drink! Freedom to live without stewing in their own filth! Filth. Filth. Filthy lies!

Come give these sheep pats on the head for taking it all in stride as we tear them limb from limb. They musn’t complain, musn’t argue, musn’t fight. Musn’t. Musn’t. Musn’t.

Now watch the children cry. Watch them all die. Watch them be buried alive. Watch from the comforts of your towering skyscrapers and soothing sandy beaches in Tel Aviv. Watch from the comfort of the homes you stole from the people who still carry the keys to their doors in Jerusalem. Watch from the holiday light strewn houses in America, where we complain that we can’t afford another cup of Starbucks coffee today because of, you know, the bad economy and all. Watch. Watch. Watch.

Now be silent. Kill. Ours. Destroy. Filth. Musn’t. Watch.

Is Bush's Mom an Arab?

The only people who should have the reflexes to dodge thrown shoes are Arab children. We all have childhood stories of frustrated moms throwing their sandals at us, or chasing us down with them to do some close-up damage.

In Palestine, we call these sandals "shib-shibs". Shib-shib sounds just as funny in Arabic as it does in English-we admit it. And we deserved every thrown Shib-shib at us. We were like little devil children pushing the boundaries of sanity within our parents at every opportune moment. And inopportune moment-hence getting a blast to the head with a thrown shib-shib. The reason we had shib-shibs thrown at us and not a few slaps to the rear was because we were so bad, we'd run for our lives, knowing whatever happened once we got caught was something we had coming for a while. It doesn't help that Arab parents tend to give birth to us in multiples of 5, like rabbits. So they didn't have time to spank one, while children number 2,3,4 and 5 were running around wreaking more havoc.

By the way, Arab adults don't throw shoes at one another. We generally just yell to prove our point. And what was up with the secret service!? It's like they gave the guy time to throw the second shoe on purpose cause he missed with the first one. That was craziness!

Well, I guess Bush needed one more image to leave from his Presidency. We didn't have to think of him choking on a pretzel or his reaction to 9/11 or standing in front of the Mission Accomplished sign or fail to escape through locked doors or tell the head of FEMA he did a heck of a job when he didn't do sh*t as people drowned or give one of his many Bushisms...just to name a few.

No, we needed to see him dodge shoes. Perhaps a fittingly looney farewell to a looney Presidency.

Jellicle Cats for Evil Souls

What the hell is a Jellicle Cat? I have no frickin’ idea. I’m not even taking the time to google “jellicle cats” because I don’t care. Who knew they could make a whole musical out of people dressed up as “jellicle cats.” Who the hell knew?

I entered Fox Theatre for the first time on Saturday for a musical that literally made me question life itself.

“There is no plot,” my cousin, who accompanied me and is responsible for acquiring the tickets from a supposed “friend”, whispered in frustration as we sat before a stage of humans dressed as cats singing about…I still seriously do not know, 10 minutes into the damn thing.

“What the hell is happening? Why is this happening?” I begged to know.

To make a long story short, we sat through song after song about a gay cat that reminded my cousin of Freddy Mercury and reminded me of the transvestite from Transylvania in ‘The Rocky Horror Picture Show’, a fat cat (seriously, why was he there?), annoying thieve cats-one of which could have also played the gay cat, a bum cat that all the other cats treated like sh*t, and an old cat they admired for some reason-like he was some king-cat. It was a load of creepy nonsense and songs that sucked monkey brains.

Why did I go? The tickets were free and I had never been to Fox Theatre before, so I was curious. I warned my cousin about how stupid this thing looked, especially after having seen a performance from it during a Tony Awards telecast I was watching and can’t remember why.

I wondered about the actors. I wondered if they were desperate to be in anything that happened to do with theater. Then I wondered what I would compare it to. I think it would be like me writing for the local paper about the kind of grass fertilizer people in a community use. Or it would be like writing press releases for a funeral home. Do they do that? If they did, that would be the equivalent of performing in Cats.

Even though my cousin begged to leave before intermission, I insisted on following theater etiquette and staying until the intermission came to escape. Beforehand, we honestly tried not to laugh loud enough for people who were probably…what’s the word…enjoying (???) …it to be annoyed by us. I looked around to see what grown men were doing. Some were sleeping, probably forced to come with their wives after a long day of work.Some were looking around at the much more interesting ceiling décor-like I did-and some were actually, gasp, into it. Those guys probably lost their manhood a long time ago.

Btw, I’d like to give a shout out to the girl who sat in our row and actually tripped on her heels on her way back to her seat and fell into our laps, stabbing my cousin’s foot with her heel. Whatsup girrrrl?!?!

Also, I’ve been listening to a lot of my Harry Potter audio book in my car lately. And I thought that Rowling should’ve made Cats one of the horcruxes. Because that sh*t must’ve had a fragment of Voldemort’s soul into it. That show was evil and seemed to enjoy torturing me.

Anyways, good day.