It could be a nutrient, as Chick-fil-A soup and lemonade were some of the only things I could eat whilst my mouth and respiratory system were under siege. I wish I could be vegetarian, as when I eat meat I think of the animal's eyes looking at me. I don't know if I ever arrive at the chicken place. I may have gone through the drive-thru, though. It's always like a quest. I also have this recurring dream of going to Moodies/Justin concerts (and the show not materializing in most instances). And so, I will go to concerts as if they were fried chicken.

How's that, Essay Writers?

Me mum was the best cook. She only ruined one meal, which we called "chitlins;" and I didn't like cube steak, but everything else was good. Nobody could cook spaghetti as yummy as hers, and when she made lasagne, she left the cheese out of my corner, as I was afraid of Swiss cheese at the time. She also peeled grapes for me, although I never asked her to. The skins were fine, but she seemed to enjoy the service, so I let her. My favorites were tuna-noodle casserole and burritos.

I don't have recurring dreams so much as recurring settings. One is at a house similar to where I used to live in Drayton Plains, and there is a small creek in front surrounded by weeds. Another is a lobby with carpeting that I can't recall right now, but it puts me in the mood of velvet-flocked fleur de lis wallpaper.

I dreamed I was driving the boss' car, ran out of gas, and lost his keys and debit card. I also kept dreaming of spreadsheets.

#JHQA do you like bleu cheese or parmesian on your spaghetti putanesca? You see? All I can come up with are lame questions about food.

I had a weird dream that I was in the Marines, and back in A school, but I was the only aviation person in the room (electrician) I think it was watching Magical Mystery Tour that set that one off, the Marine uniform I was wearing looked like the English military people who kept marching through the movie. The dream wasn't so far from reality, when I went through A school in Memphis (we were ALL studying to be aviation electricians) half of the class WAS Marine. Marine aviation is a pretty nice group actually, not as grim as their ground pounding counterparts. Once a nasty old chief peeked in our door and commented "Look at all that Peanut butter and pickle!" referring to the colors of the Marine uniforms. Rude times, but good times, lots of comradely fun.

Good movie that, MMT

The cats disturb my sleep at sunrise, so I give them food, take my BP pills and go back to sleep for three more hours. Bliss. . Much to do today....

Sitting here doing brekkie.... contemplating how to respond to that. Or if I should.....

First off I apologize for interpreting any dreams not my own on this thread. While I do have professional training as a Jungian psychologist, I'm not licensed, and besides it's much preferable to gently lead a client (who insists on telling you their dreams, because that's "what you do with psychologists") through "interpretation" generally the dreams mean what YOU finally think they mean, and it's the process that matters, not the final "answer" Most of the time, when people start telling us their dreams about zeppelins going into hangars, trains plunging into caves, baseball bats, swords, smelly fish, clams etc we have hard time not blushing and giggling... one must remain professional.

(I'm just here blabbing with a friend, not being a professional BTW)

Going backwards to top, on the first cruise when Justin mentioned his brother had been (Royal) Navy I about fell off my barstool. 20 years myself in the USN. It's not a job, it's an adventure. And from the lyrics to "My Brother" it's entirely possible Justin's brother was a flyer of some kind. I would loved to have met Brother, as we could have possibly talked shop. Most people would be incredibly bored by EPR transducers, I find them fascinating.

Justin is an "air" sign astrologically, so it makes sense to me he writes about airy things. And it makes good poetry too.

Believe me, Royal Navy aviators wear anything but uniforms like the ones in MMT.

Every tour that fans chase is a MMT IMHO

We ALL have our inner rooms we retreat to in times of stress, or at least I hope so. It's a great coping device for a stressful existence, and yes quite a good place to get in touch with your inner creativeness. Justin's inner room I have the feeling is much weirder than many of us could deal with. Bon Appitite if you manage to "get into that suite"

I'm a teacher. The whole world is one big classroom. Justin's parents were teachers, no mystery there with his writing.

Justin often jumps into my dreams, but a lot of times, it's someone else in "Justin" disguise. I think that is true of many people who dream about Justin.

One of the first lessons we learn in psychology is "beware of projection and transference" (not to mention counter transference) it happens with clients, and then sometimes if you are foolish enough to try and "analyze" your friends and family, you wind up tripping over this effect. It happens.

To the concrete today! Must get out and fix my riding mower! Gonna start pulling the engine apart...... (cringe) wish me luck.

I dreamed the president was advocating for the No Extra Code Monopoly.

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That's mighty kind of you. Thank you, but I don't have time in my life for sewing right now. My favorite was a White. I used to describe it as "sturdy" and "straight-sew." It did nothing fancy, but it was 100% reliable. I never had problems with the tension. I would dream up designs on my evening walks and sew a new outfit before going in to work.

I worked at a community college in the mornings, and one girl actually said she stopped by the lounge every day to see what I was wearing. She was a nice person, genuine. Normally, I am suspicious of kindnesses, but she was quite comfortable saying nice things about people all the time. I was in the lounge because I was a mere adjunct with gaps in my schedule. Despite lobbying from colleagues, the school never got around to giving me an office so I could tutor during downtime. So, I took the lounge as my unofficial office because, unlike a real office, it had a window and vending machines.

I got rid of the beloved White because I was under pressure to move to the campus of my other job, where the landlady said my furnished place had two sewing machines. She didn't tell me one was totally unusable and the other was very gummed up and would leave black streaks on anything one tried to sew. I also had an epiphany around that time that I was dressing like a peacock and I needed to tone it down.

Vectoring ever so minutely back on-topic, last night was my turn to clean the church. I was ill; my body does not like to do all-nighters anymore. I started out pounding on the piano. I had the place to myself. I'm so tired of mamsy-pamsy playing softer than the kids and practicing where the neighbors can't hear. I figured the church was soundproof, so I put the forte pedal to the metal and played some hymns as fast as I could go. I did that in the next room with a piano, too.

Then, every time I bent over, I wanted to heave and pass out. So, I slept on a pew. I slept on the sofa in the mother's room. That sofa was so soft, I could live there. I bent over to pick up some scraps under a table and woke up. I finally left a note for the guy who was going to finish up tomorrow. I was going to give him a nice surprise and have everything done, but I couldn't bring myself to even think of pushing a vacuum.

So, when I had an opportunity to take a nap today, I drifted off wondering why I'm so sick all the time anymore. The answer came, "The truth you might be running from is so small, but it's as big as the promise, the promise of a coming day." Yes, I believe I am suffering dissonance, as explained here.

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, 'Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?' Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”

― Marianne Williamson, A Return to Love: Reflections on the Principles of "A Course in Miracles"

Though worn out, I do believe it is one of the best paragraphs ever written. I was going to let the silence of my absence here speak my mind and my quest for peace, but my OCD called me back.