the nurses at the surgeon's office hug me, carefully. they smile, ask how i am...how my bootyboi is. why do they ask? ...because they knew what we went through together. it is still odd though, odd and a bit disconcerting. (dis-concert? hrm.) anyhoo, it freaks me out, but in a good way i suppose. they could just not care about my welfare/being at all...

*grin*

i have delved into the world of frames in my web design curriculum. mmm. not half as scary as i thought.

and dreams...as of late:

i am at a renaissance fair with my friend nanimal. everything is traditional -- all dress, daily activity, sleeping arrangements and such. everything except for the tattoo tent. i go in...and on the back of my shaven head get a tattoo of fire. the tattoo reminds me of a volcanic scene...reflected horizontally on a mirror like lake...so the fire goes up and down. most of the dream is me watching myself get this tattoo.

and a dream from last night:

i am holed up in some sort of building...my home. other members of my faction are there -- and we prepare for war. on the second floor there is a large window w/out glass and a stoop, jetson's style...all bubbly and rounded. i can not find my laser gun, so i take up a buckaneer sword. my fellow crusaders are downstairs fighting off the enemy, and i am left alone but not helpless on the stoop. enemies run at me, and i cut them up...mostly throats, in slow motion and graphic...pretty.

where did this come from? i watched das boot last night, no swords there...but there is war. perhaps that and playing serious sam (i tend to just weild the hunting knife and slice up everything, especially the stompy chickens and green whiney arm-y thingies.)

ha!