Results

A fifty minute drive, an hour and a half waiting in a room reeking of failed deodorant, poopie diapers and bad cologne, and loud baby sobs were the precursors to my lab results. You know those ones that could announce either cancer or relief? After slouching, sitting up straight, zipping and unzipping my purse, reading, staring at the wall and blocking my nostrils from kid coughs my name was finally called. They coralled me into my own room and my doctor soon followed. She opened up my file and said, "It's benign". She put a screeching hault to my freight train of worries that I have been chugging along with since March this year. This is indeed a relief and also a provocation of all the hard work I've put into being healthy since 2007 began. I am going to continue down this path and be grateful and proud of my ability to perservere in a positive and healthy direction. All of the sudden I feel like I can do anything I set my mind and heart to. Life is good.

Nothing Alarming... I Hope.

The dreams were there, but so was the constant urge to urinate. I had lucid dreams last night that were like watching television and doing stretches at the same time. I woke up tired, but ready to get up.

Today I get the test results. I have been saying that I am prepared, but in reality I am not completely. If it is good news: "Yes", but bad news will send me back to major heart palpitations and worry. In twenty minutes I leave. Wish me good luck... Please.

Back to School

For some odd reason I have had several dreams about having to return to school because I didn't finish all my credits. (In reality I graduated with a B.A. in English.) Last night I had another one to add to the list. I was brimming with anxiety, my nostrils filled with the scent of formaldahide and fresh cut grass, as I frantically rushed to class. My feet pounded the marble corridors and my hands curled around Corinthian columns. When I finally reached the door to my classroom, I turned the knob, it squeaked open and I was astonished by what I saw. The chairs and desks were there, but the walls were not. A rolling lawn stretched before me filled with eager students. The pupils were from my highschool all grown up and fully dialated. I tried desperately to find a seat, but I felt geeky and unaccepted by my peers even as my brother's voice chimed in my head to take a seat and stop worrying. I couldn't speak.

Sweat dripped down the sides of my face and I felt a sudden urge to hide. I crawled on my belly into a short shack to the left of the field. When I turned around I marked with utter terror an enormous spiderweb, that I somehow managed to shimmy beneath, staging the most gigantic spider I had ever seen. As the web vibrated with my previous movement the spider lurched from its tunnel to pierce me with its fangs, but I was too quick. I stepped on it and squashed it almost losing my balance in the process. I heard a sharp squawk near my ear and turned to meet a half human half chicken creature flapping its wings in shock. I ran past it and out the back door.

It walked out of the shack free at last and lumbered around the field squawking confusion and wonder at its release. Soon after it disappeared into the distance I awoke to my alarm.

I groggily wiped the sleep from my eyes and prepared for work as my boyfriend rolled over and clutched his pillow. Minutes later we walked to my car and I dropped him off at his. On my brief journey to work, still clutching the disturbing remnants of my dream, I ran a red light. Thank goodness no one was hurt: I breezed through like a student in a shack.

Wonder and Gratitude

I'm back from a 4-day vacation with my family. I feel like I have abruptly changed from one life to another. The brief life I leave behind is waking to my almost 18 month-year-old niece Stella Mar saying:

"Up?"
"Outside?"
"Birdie."
"Wa-wa!"

I already miss the way she emphatically nodds her head up and down as she smiles with her little teeth and round cheeks. It was such a joy watching her shoulders inch up to her ears as she happily ran through my parent's house screaming, "Doggie? Doggie?" You'd have to have a stone heart not to love her instantly. I didn't give birth to her, nevertheless she is my flesh and blood. Stella Bella is a gift.

Last night I fell asleep with a confused heart. Confused mainly because my reactions to the world around me has changed so much within the past few years. Maturity, even amidst a little grumpiness, is finally settling in. I understand more than ever how circular life is. We all continue to get older and fall into disrepair and yet babies are still being born to remind us that living is letting our hearts awaken with wonder and gratitude.

Yesterday when I watched my sister, brother-in-law, and niece walk into the airport I realized this shift. As they disappeared, my focus changed. My eyes were dry, but my heart was grateful for their visit, for their vigil reminder that life is not always what it appears to be on the surface that there is so much more.

(Whoa)Men at Work

I had another dream where chaos was the theme, but nothing stood out except for watching a brief exchange between two male white rappers with big lips doing the "Yo! Yo! Yo!" and then kissing! Yep, I had a dream with two baggy-pants boys kissing. It was strange and left me wondering about work today. I know this seems a non-sequiter, but in my mind it is not, because my dream interpretation doesn't take my dreams literally. Men I don't know are code for "working" and let me tell ya, I have had so much work today. I'm looking around wondering if I am getting screwed by The Man. Work is a bunch of baggy-pants-kiss-asses and that sounds like a bad rap to me. So what is up with the men-on-men action? It's hard and uncomfortable working for a lousy salary when I am paying for chiropractic bills for whiplash I got from a uninsured motorists, going for cancer screenings... you know, being a responsible (and almost broke) adult.

Yo! Yo! Yo!
I'm goin' broke , Yo!
'Cuz I gots these bills and these ills
and a lameass mofo job
I come dressed here lika' slob
They pay me in styrofoam
I'm lucky I gotta home
and a lameass mofo job

I am Not a Door Mat

Do you ever feel like people are crossing into your comfort zone and testing you? This morning I did as I dreamt about, of all things, a funky hand-made door mat. I was about to walk into my home when I realized that several teenage girls had moved in and had already placed a new, rather awkward-trip-inducing-door mat in front of "my" door. I hated it and I usually love hand-made artifats. I hated it most of all for what it represented. It represented the inconsiderate tendencies of my new roommates as they failed to ask me if I wanted such a thing to be the first image before stepping into home and when I asked them about it they shrugged it off with a surly "so-what?" To add more uncomfortableness they had decided to adopt a couple cats without conferring with me first, too. The cats were not to be seen, but their sloppy dishes were taking up the small square of yard that we had. As I tidied the dishes so some more room could be afforded for a lawn chair or something else they scoffed at me. "What are you doing?" they smuggly asked. "Those cats are just going to mess it up anyway!" Was this a foreshadowing of all the frustrations to come? I turned around to face them and the glare of the sun blinded me. I awoke to the bleating of my alarm.

Monday Mixing

I dreamt about my brother last night. He lazily manned a drink mixing booth, which was awfully similar to his real life job of being an alcohol distributor. A group of family members, friends, strangers and I gathered around his booth in a half moon seating arrangemnet as he went about slowly mixing our drinks and disappearing for rather lengthy periods of time. He kept his cool as the patrons hounded him for Coca Cola, whiskey, unheard-of-beer, and smoothies. I had never seen so many people so thirsty in my life and their thirst made them grouchy, impatient and retalitory and yet Adrian moved about as if hovering above a cloud. Each time he hovered by the patrons the immense luck of his beverages would shower down into their cups allowing, once and for all, to quench their thirst as the temperature in the building felt like a greenhouse with its moist debilitating heat. I sat like a lump of worn out Play Dough: salty and pink from the heat. In my lethargic state my mind moved with thoughts about running my own business, giving people what they want, having the courage to take on great responsibilties, living in the moment and staying calm amidst utter chaos. My brother, he was doing just that. I felt proud of him and looked to him as a role model of courage and calm dividing up the elixirs of life one cup at a time.

Movement

Before I start writing about the menagerie of dreams I had last night, I must reflect on other more charming subjects such as stains and guilt over not doing my stretches, traction and sit-ups jesterday (yes, I wrote "jesterday" on purpose). First off, why is it that every single item of clothing I own has a stain and/or tear in it? For crying out loud, I was wearing my fairly new blue dress yesterday whilst I ate my cucumber salad in my office (AKA car) when I managed to stain my dress with the olive oil lemon dressing right near my crotch. Paranoia immediately set in as I wondered whether each person I passed by thought I peed a little on my cute dress. Secondly, I was getting back on track with my exercises and stretches, so why did I hop off of my chiropractor's table, go home and not do them? The answer is my boyfriend came over and we were hungry and we were both tired. We ate ceviche and fish tacos in my office. (Will I ever learn?) Soon after that, I indroduced him to cheating on ice cream with Pinkberry frozen yogurt. This is the closest we will ever come to a threesome. This food frenzy led to lazy book reading. He read about quantum physics and I read Italo Calvino's poetic "Invisible Cities" whilst my roommate serenaded us from her room. Life is good.

The stains, to the eating and finally the book reading led to a wild Mad Hatter's dream world where I was whisked from California, to New York, to Michigan, and to some made up places where it was cold, but ever so beautiful. Everyone was there chattering stories and teeth. I listened to the stories webbing around me and cocooning me as I stared longingly out windows at skycrapers, canals and helicoptors. The urgency of life tugged at me excellerating as the minutes passed and smells of food simmering in the kitchen made my salivary glands come to action. I enjoyed where I was and felt calm amidst the chaos of family and friends. Each time I woke up to go to the bathroom I rushed back to bed to return to my dreams where the flurry of excitement sprinkled my smiling face.

This morning I snuggled my face into my boyfriend's back and realized that over-night we had travelled together and it it didn't cost a penny.

Not Guilty

Last night, I dreamt that my bed was resting on a huge cement slab out in the open. There were no walls or ceiling to shield my most comfy of places from weather and unwelcomed guests. The air was chilly and moist, so I curled up in my bed and pulled the down comforter up to my chin and lay there letting the minutes pass into hours gazing at the clouds that raced in the cerculean blue sky. I was very calm and content, until I heard someone shouting my name from a distance. At first the voice sounded as if it was coming from a stranger, but then I recognized it. I tried to hide my head under my blanket, unfortunately it was too late: one of my ex-boyfriends was standing by my bed panting, smiling and pulling his long-sleeve shirt off.

"Whoa! Whoa! WHOA!" I exclaimed as my eyebrows knitted together in angry frightened exasperation. "What are you doing?"

He kept smiling and happily said, "It is ME!"

Grumbling, "Yeah, I know who you are. You should put your shirt back on."

As I spoke, he had already made it to the other side of the bed, lifted the covers and slipped in.

I shouted, "Get out of my bed! I didn't invite you!"

He looked around still dumbly smiling and reasoned, "Invited? It looks pretty open to me... Besides, I'm cold and I have something to tell you."

"I can't talk to you like this! You are invading my privacy!"

Suddenly, walls sprung up, a ceiling formed and my bedroom door slammed shut. I started panting like a trapped animal furiously questioning why my safe place had turned into a traumatic one. I was so angry with my smiling intruder for taking something pleasant and calm and turning it into a nightmare. Then all of the sudden the nightmare got worse. We heard a knock on the door and my roommate's voice rang from the other side, "Paloma? Can I talk to you?" Without allowing me to respond, she had already turned the knob and was staring at me with the door halfway open. That look she gave me was unforgettable. It was the look of judgement: condemnation. She looked at my Ex and then at me and shook her head. My face went red with anger and I tried to explain what was happening as she shook her head and responded with a curt growl, "It is none of my business." She bowed her head down and closed the door behind her. She was extremely angry and disappointed, but not nearly as much as I was. I was not guilty, evenso I knew the merciless jury had spoken. It was a "Hung" jury.

I woke up this morning grateful that what I had experienced was a nightmare. Nevertheless, I have had this weird feeling all morning. This feeling is best explained as mock frustration over being judged wrongly. In real life and even in my dream life I set very high standards for my morality. I have been thinking how awful it would be if people didn't trust me when I am being so trustworthy.

Valerian

Last night I was overly thinking everything and the two small cups of coffee I drank were haunting me like a shocking device and even all the exercise and chiropractic adjustments and book reading would not allow me to settle down. I gave in and took a Valerian gel cap and after washing that distinct and pungent odor off of my hands I settled into sleep. I wrapped my legs around my pillows and alternated between side and back sleeping. The dreams came and went and my bladder ruled my wakings and even though I can feel the residue of my dream world I can't fully recollect it like I normally do. Could this be a side effect of the Valerian or just a kind way of my mind and body letting me off of the hook for once? I mean all I did all day Monday was push myself and calculate diversions: a brisk walk to Skylight Bookstore siting a very large raccoon along the way, creating an artful and delicious sandwich, reading out loud with gusto, napping in my car, sit-ups, stretches, bathing after scrubbing the tub down, perusing unfinished art projects, driving to and from my chiropractic office, working admidst a plethora of cords like the tentacles of a sea anenome, and the TV made a brief debue with an oddly timed Christmas rerun.

Today the sky still wants me to sleep. Gray and moist and downright chilly, the skylight is trying to take me home and into my downy bed.

Don't Offer Her Water

Last night after celebrating a wonderful day shopping at the Farmer's Market with my roommate, making delicious food with my mom, dad, and brother, and watching "The Sopranos" with my boyfriend paired with red wine and snuggles I had a dream about children. It was an awkward reunion between mother and daughter. A handful of years prior the beautiful little girl had followed a stranger who asked her if she wanted a glass of water. In the wake of her kidnapping the mother bore several more children and even adopted sons from distant countries to fill in the void of her missing child. The reunion was not a happy one because it was laced with regret, disconnection of heart and soul, and resentments. The mother resented the little girl for accepting the water from the stranger. She didn't want to know what had happened and her lips pursed in denial and her arms failed to lift for a hug. The little girl held her grief inside and I wanted to rescue her with a hug and a glass of water. She looked at me as if she could hear my thoughts. The mother in me was sprouting to life. I wanted to protect and care for these children, not just the little girl whose eyes had lost their naivete. I wanted them all to know that they would never be lost or forgotten. I wanted them to know that it was not her fault. She drank the water, never to hurt anyone. She was thirsty. She had not committed a crime. The kidnapper was to blame.

The mother disappeared as if to teach them a lesson. The children climbed all over each other to comfort one another and stared at me blankly asking what's next. The day was still and cold and hot in flashes and all I wanted was a glass of water.

Tiger T-Shirt

Today is the day I undergo the procedure to find out whether I have cancer or not. My shoulders are tense and I am eyeing my bottle of Ibuprofin with longing. Before I go in that stuff will be pumping through my veins.

What I am wearing today is oddly significant.

Last night, or rather this morning, I had a dream about the exact same T-shirt that I am wearing. I am at work and it is casual friday. If only I felt casual as opposed to Armani suit uptight. I digress. I was at my cousin Samantha's and she left me alone in a large house with all her Courtney Love-esk roommates who I felt strangely intimidated by. They were all trying to sleep and I was trying to find my clothes, so I could leave at the break of dawn. I picked up my white T-shirt with the metallic tiger face and then I picked up another. Apparently, one of her savage roomies made T-shirts for a living. I heard someone whisper, "Take it... She won't notice". I could feel the other roommate's breath on my right shoulder and the hairs on my back stood up and my hands began to shake as I held the two identical garments. I put the clothing down and then picked them up again, eyed an empty birdcage, and walked out the front door my heart furiously pounding all the while. As the morning sun pierced my eyes I woke up, not at 5:40 am, but at 5:00 am.

Am I trying to take my life back 40 minutes at a time? Am I stealing it back like that T-shirt? Was the presence of my cousin a sign that I am going to stop worrying so much? Only time and test results will tell.

Wake up it is 5:40 am!

Something to address here. Lately, I have been waking up at 5:40 am on the dot, but my usual scramble-to-get-to-work-on-time-alarm setting is 6:30 am. Why? And this morning to add to my annoyance at waking before my time, I smelled like I was sitting IN a BBQ. The smoke from the Griffith Park fire that broke out on Tuesday May 8, 2007 curled through the dirty screen in my window and right into my moist brown tresses. Yippee! The smoke also gave me a headache and a stuffy noise... I do complain, don't I? The worst part of all this waking before my time and smelling like a Hickory burger is gazing upon the devastation of Griffith Park on a gorgeous morning of blue skies and crisp air. Inside I cry for every tree, bush, flower, insect and animal that lost it's life in those flames. This is yet another example of the planet being destroyed. "Global Warming" is not some goofy catch phrase, it is a reality that we all are facing. We ARE going to have record heat in California this summer and the severe lack of rainfall in Southern California this year is contributing to the severity of fires we are having. The antithesis of this problem promotes yet another climatological issue in the middle of the United States there has been Flooding and rain storms. The planet's weather has been playing on a seesaw with a big kid and a little kid.

I don't have a glamorous dream to share today, but who cares... The Earth and it's traumas are enough of a fascinating story than looking at a photo and becoming one with it or eating stuffed animals dipped in Au Jou.

I realize more than ever that I need to... Oh...wait! I do have a dream to share that coincides with the the planet's health. I can't remember the exact date, but I had it a couple weeks ago...

I showed up at my parent's house because my sister, brother-in-law, and niece were visiting from Brooklyn, New York. Upon bursting through the front door the first person I saw was my one and a half year old niece Stella walking around with a huge smile on her face. I scooped her up in my arms and asked her, "How are you doing, Stella?" She said matter-of-factly, "I pooped my pants". She snuggled in my arms as I carried her to the bathroom to change her and she said, "Awe, this feels good." When we got to the bathroom I set her down on the floor and asked her, "Do you want me to change your diaper?" She wisely said, "You could do that or we could go green."

Go Green! The child is a freaking genius! At one and a half she was speaking environmental lingo with the rest of us. Most diapers ARE unbiodegradable and are certainly not helping us fight Global Warming. Wow! I know that it was just a dream, but I can't get this concept out of my head. Stella is walking straight into a future that must be paved with ecological awareness. As she grows up, so will this problem unless we all start making a conscience effort to help rather than hurt our planet.

Paloma Dreams

This is a first. I have decided to start this blog with a purpose in mind. My name is Paloma and I dream. Yes, yes, I know everyone dreams, but this is different because I remember 95% of my dreams and they often are more bizarre than anything that you have ever gone to the movies and paid $11 to see. Here is a brief rundown of the most strange characters and circumstances I have witnessed in my subconscious:

- Babies with finger tails
- Ex-boyfriends pregnant and playing football
- Rainbow waterfall doors
- A lawn covered with dog snouts
- People on hangers in the bathroom
- Angry giant crabs
- Jacuzzis on pillars surrounded by bubbles
- Purple lawns that cut one's feet
- Bathrooms with gorgeous ponds filled with Koi fish

Dreaming is like living a second life in which anything can happen. This is a time when I tell myself about what is really happening in my daily life through riddles. I dissect and interpret these stories with a knowingness that most people are skeptical of.