In your eyes, will her soul be remembered.
Feb. 8th, 2005 11:30 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dolariFRIDAY
Okay, finally. I can sit between Fed Ex crashes and update this thing properly. I'll just hit the thingies I wrote before, and back fill in some stuff as I remember it.
0) In depth Tarot Reading:
A few days ago between calls I tok out my tarot cards, and asked it "What id going to become of me in relation to my surgery" and got "Judgement." Thinking this was a good sign, I went home Friday morning and did a more indepth reading.
Basically, the cards said "Stop screwing around, and get to work." The idea was that I have a pretty demanding, yet cushy job, that pays a lot, and if I don't start making stupid silly mistakes or quit ourt of spite, I won't lose it anytime soon. Assuming I can keep the nose to the grindstone, I'll get the surgery this year.
I went to bed, and then promptly had some wierd dreams....
1) Wrestling Sex Changes
I've had a series of dreams in the last few years, where I've been hired as a wrestler. The series began with me working to assemble a ring for a show, and was pulled backstage to do a run in (where someone runs in and interferes with a match) because the person that was supposed to do it hadn't shown up today. From there, I was hired on as a last-minute jobber (someone who loses ALL the time) who only wrestled when some one didn't show up. In the dreams, I was usally given a seat in the audience and waited to be called if they needed me. Then, I was allowed to win a match because the audience seemed to like me. Which leaves us with that night's dream:
Before the show begins, I'm called back into Vince McMahon's office for a meeting. He's here to talk about my work rate (literally, how well I wrestle) dropping. He's very concerned because in a pervious match, I nearly dropped someone in a mid-air throw. This is a BIG no-no, since I could have serious hurt this person. He asked me about why I seemed to be slipping.
I kinda hemmed and hawwed cause I knew he wasn't going to like my answer. I told him I was taking anti-testosterone pills, and the this causes your muscle tone to weaken up and you lose some strength. I tried to explain to him I was doing this BEFORE he ever hired me. He gets into his "thinking pose" which is usually a very "What am I going to do with you" kinda pose.
So I'm a little antsy and say "well, you can always write me out of the storylines."
"Write you out? Are you kidding?! I can think of at least ten storylines we can do with this!" And he starts laying out this storyline for me that would allow me to have the sex change AND stay in wrestling. His plotline would have had me neaking into the girls locker room, and everyone would think I was a peeping tom, but in reality, I just wanted to dress in there cause I was embarrassed to be in the male's locker room. Eventually I'd confess what I wanted, and "The Management" would allow me to work female, but the females didn't want me in their locker room, and the males didn't want to wrestle me. Eventually, I'd get my own room, and start wrestling women, who would complain I was too strong to really be in their division, and after some semi-impressive wins, and a male wrestler who wouldn't shy away from a match with me, would get back in the male's division female or not. The women would let me into the locker room once I had my surgery and all was well. I'd end up being the next Chyna, without all the mental breakdowns....
McMahon's last words? "But, ah, try only taking a half dose of those anti-testosterone pills."
::snerk::
But that wasn't the ONLY wierd dream I had....
2) Airport arrival times in barren fields
I don't remember much of this dream anymore, but my friend Dave and I are desperately searching for an airport. We on a barren dirt road near a desolate field that has a huge "block" of concrete on it. In the block are take off and departure times for flights at our airport. But the airport isn't anywhere to be found. We keep driving, but as soon as we think we've gone too far, Dave hits the brakes and the gas and does a 180 and heads back towards the sign.
And when I wake up it's Saturday....
Okay, finally. I can sit between Fed Ex crashes and update this thing properly. I'll just hit the thingies I wrote before, and back fill in some stuff as I remember it.
0) In depth Tarot Reading:
A few days ago between calls I tok out my tarot cards, and asked it "What id going to become of me in relation to my surgery" and got "Judgement." Thinking this was a good sign, I went home Friday morning and did a more indepth reading.
Basically, the cards said "Stop screwing around, and get to work." The idea was that I have a pretty demanding, yet cushy job, that pays a lot, and if I don't start making stupid silly mistakes or quit ourt of spite, I won't lose it anytime soon. Assuming I can keep the nose to the grindstone, I'll get the surgery this year.
I went to bed, and then promptly had some wierd dreams....
1) Wrestling Sex Changes
I've had a series of dreams in the last few years, where I've been hired as a wrestler. The series began with me working to assemble a ring for a show, and was pulled backstage to do a run in (where someone runs in and interferes with a match) because the person that was supposed to do it hadn't shown up today. From there, I was hired on as a last-minute jobber (someone who loses ALL the time) who only wrestled when some one didn't show up. In the dreams, I was usally given a seat in the audience and waited to be called if they needed me. Then, I was allowed to win a match because the audience seemed to like me. Which leaves us with that night's dream:
Before the show begins, I'm called back into Vince McMahon's office for a meeting. He's here to talk about my work rate (literally, how well I wrestle) dropping. He's very concerned because in a pervious match, I nearly dropped someone in a mid-air throw. This is a BIG no-no, since I could have serious hurt this person. He asked me about why I seemed to be slipping.
I kinda hemmed and hawwed cause I knew he wasn't going to like my answer. I told him I was taking anti-testosterone pills, and the this causes your muscle tone to weaken up and you lose some strength. I tried to explain to him I was doing this BEFORE he ever hired me. He gets into his "thinking pose" which is usually a very "What am I going to do with you" kinda pose.
So I'm a little antsy and say "well, you can always write me out of the storylines."
"Write you out? Are you kidding?! I can think of at least ten storylines we can do with this!" And he starts laying out this storyline for me that would allow me to have the sex change AND stay in wrestling. His plotline would have had me neaking into the girls locker room, and everyone would think I was a peeping tom, but in reality, I just wanted to dress in there cause I was embarrassed to be in the male's locker room. Eventually I'd confess what I wanted, and "The Management" would allow me to work female, but the females didn't want me in their locker room, and the males didn't want to wrestle me. Eventually, I'd get my own room, and start wrestling women, who would complain I was too strong to really be in their division, and after some semi-impressive wins, and a male wrestler who wouldn't shy away from a match with me, would get back in the male's division female or not. The women would let me into the locker room once I had my surgery and all was well. I'd end up being the next Chyna, without all the mental breakdowns....
McMahon's last words? "But, ah, try only taking a half dose of those anti-testosterone pills."
::snerk::
But that wasn't the ONLY wierd dream I had....
2) Airport arrival times in barren fields
I don't remember much of this dream anymore, but my friend Dave and I are desperately searching for an airport. We on a barren dirt road near a desolate field that has a huge "block" of concrete on it. In the block are take off and departure times for flights at our airport. But the airport isn't anywhere to be found. We keep driving, but as soon as we think we've gone too far, Dave hits the brakes and the gas and does a 180 and heads back towards the sign.
And when I wake up it's Saturday....
