Crazy Pee

I was on location in the Midwest, writing a story about weird teenagers and what they do to appear different from everyone else. The girl I was covering made herself look like a cat with make up and an interesting hair-do. I wasn't overly impressed to tell you the truth.

Back at her house I met up with her mom. I contemplated telling her that her daughter wasn't really that different but I didn't want to hurt her feelings. I just figured I wouldn't use her in my article.

The mom and I both had to pee so we went into their bathroom that had -- lo and behold -- two toilets next to each other. Thinking nothing of it we both dropped our pants and let loose.

Well, this woman's pee stream got more and more forceful the longer we sat there. And she peed forever! It started spurting out of the toilet and onto my new blue high heels. I was pissed (no pun intended here folks...) and the stronger it got the more I got sprayed.

After a bit I pushed her off the toilet and into the shower, hoping the shower curtain would keep me safe. She was like a possessed sprinkler. I thought to myself, now THIS woman would make a good story....

New York Times Cover!

During grad school at New York University I found out that the journalism program was offering a combined MA and PhD degree and was giving out tuition wavers that amounted to $50,00.00 a year. BUT. They were only giving these financial aid packages to international students.

One German student was given the award and her writing sucked. The more international students that got tuition deals the more I got mad. NOT FAIR! And my international friends felt guilty -- but they weren't going to turn down free money. I didn't blame them.

What I did do was gather a bunch of my American student friends to bring a formal complaint to the student senate. We also brought live chickens, too. In boxes. Whoever could carry a chicken in a box through the streets of NYC was encouraged to. We had quite a lot of them, actually.

We debated. We yelled. We demanded justice! We lost. But we made front page news in the New York Times. See?....

Or at least I did. I was very proud.

We left the chickens behind....

Jason Strange

I ran into an old acquaintance and we decided to go out for Mexican food. His name was Jason Strange. We met at a restaurant and because Jason Strange doesn't believe in wearing shoes, he was sporting bright white tube socks.

We ended up sitting with another couple that we didn't know and Jason was leaning on their last nerves. He was being obnoxious, swearing, and being an all around wise-guy. He got a Pabst Blue Ribbon dumped on him. Jason jumped over the table and started making out with me. He was a really bad kisser. We left soon after that.

We jumped in his green Jeep Wrangler and he took me to his multi-million dollar apartment. I gave myself a tour of the place, stopping to pee in every bathroom. He introduced me to his brothers -- one older and one younger -- and they all ushered me into the screening room to watch a movie.

At this point I was feeling rather uncomfortable with the Strange brothers. It was like a 6th sense and I knew that if I was to go watch a movie with them that I would be gang raped. Terrified I ran from the scene, jumped in Jason's green jeep, and sped away to the nearest subway station. I parked the jeep in a spot but couldn't decide where to take the train to. I returned to the jeep only to find that it was gone.

Panic. I had lost Jason's jeep.

The next morning at church with all of my high school girlfriends I retold the story. I was mortified that I had been so hasty in my feelings towards the Strange brothers. Maybe they didn't want to have sex with me at all. And I had lost Jason's jeep.

He sent me a text forgiving me. He was, after all, a multi-millionaire and could buy another one. But I still felt bad. My friend Laura told me I should make up with him because he was rich and a really nice guy (despite his actions at the restaurant). I spent the rest of the dream feeling guilty.

Beware of the Whitehead

I had a regular sized whitehead right above my right eyebrow. I was in my parent's bathroom when I decided to pop it. It went quite smoothly. But what I was extracting wasn't the usual small, period-sized spec of dirt. No. It was big. And smooth. And suppository-like.

Here's a picture of the vessel that came out of my forehead. It wasn't soft like a condom. It was hard like a liqui-gel. And clear.

And if that wasn't weird enough there was moss inside of it. And sticks and dirt and pine needles. Oh, there was even an old tree stump. All inside the liqui-gel suppository white head above my eyebrow.

Fascinated, even in my dream, I put it in a vial after my extraction. Besides being large and in charge it was also extremely hot! Don't touch! I wanted to show it off to everyone, but I had to be careful when I carried it around that I didn't wiggle it too much or else the dirt and moss would cloud up. It was best viewed when settled. Dirt and moss at the bottom, tree trunk at the top.

Note: I have been saying I want to get a facial. Maybe my unconscious is telling me something?

My Hysterectomy

I decided that, at 30 years old, I wanted to get a hysterectomy. It was a three day operation in a hospital not unlike a movie version of an old-school psych ward. I was in and out of consciousness during my stay and fell out of my bed three times. My bed was on wheels so I was also slip sliding all over the room.

I remember I wanted my mother there with me while I went through the procedure but that I went through it alone. After the three days I was all set to go. Uterus free. The side effect of the surgery, however, was that my legs were a very different shape. In fact, they were ridiculously cartoon-like. Not unlike these gams below...


And while I was excited about my new found ankles (in real life I have what I call "cankles" which are calf-ankles) I was aware at how sharp and unrealistic my legs were to those around me.

My first day out in the world post-op I was wearing a skirt. I was aware now that anyone who saw my legs would know that I was uterus-free and thus was trying to pull my skirt down over my legs to cover them. My operation was none of their business. To no avail. The pointing ensued and my embarrassment must have woken me up.

Note: I started a new job 2 weeks ago and told my office-mate my dream and she was mortified. Too much information I guess.