We are getting closer to our departure date, and that makes me VERY happy. We have to be home by Dec 5, and that means home to our HOMES by that date. And THAT means I will be home in time to go to the SEAL Team 7 Christmas party with Dave. YAY! That was my Number One goal, since I knew I wouldn't be able to make Dave's homecoming. I do get to go to the Christmas party, and that is very good news.
I chatted with Dave this morning, and I asked the poor dear to call A Model Call in La Jolla to get me a hair appointment with my hair genius, Katharine. And some of you thought I wasn’t high maintenance!
I just had my hair trimmed for the first time in about six months, and I let them take off barely an inch. I have trust issues when it comes to hair. There's a strong possibility the girl who cut me has never done a haircut in her life (she kept getting instructions from the Indian man who also works in the beauty shop), but she did a fine job. I also got a deep conditioning treatment, since the water and elements here make my coarse hair feel like wire. I also had her blow dry my hair, which is an extreme luxury. It takes ages, because of how thick and long my mop is. I feel almost human again! [BTW, I didn't have to come in to work today until 1600, because I have the duty from 16-2400, and that is the deal on duty days. That’s why I had time for a haircut.]
So, anyway, I don't have tons to tell you, unfortunately. I did have a couple of extremely scary dreams this morning. The first was a recurring nightmare about cutting off my hair (go figure). In my dream, I had it all cut off. It was long on the sides, like elephant ears, and short in the back, like a duck's butt. And the lady in my dream dyed it white and black, like Cruella DeVille. It was SOOOOO terrible. I was very upset and praying it was a dream. My heart was pounding, and I forced myself awake, grasping for my hair as I came to. It was all still there, thank God.
My other dream was even weirder (more weird?). I dreamt that I went to a midwife to get a pregnancy test. She was a lady recommended to me by my friend and realtor, Kristine, because everybody we hire for stuff in SoCal is somebody recommended by Kristine (our jeweler, our tree guy, my accountant, our yard man, etc.). I was at a bakery in a strip mall, with my college friends (the WUBAs), shortly after my hair incident, and we decided I should go get a pregnancy test. The lady Kristine recommended was at a Greek massage parlour around the corner from the strip mall. Kristine showed us the way, and I went in for the test. Before I knew what was happening, the "doctor" was handing me a baby in a case that resembles those plastic containers the rotissiere chicken comes in at the grocery store. I wasn't allowed to open the chicken bucket, because the baby was still developing (it was only about 5 weeks old), even though it looked full-term and had blond hair and blue eyes. She handed me the baby at the same time she told me I was pregnant, and she said it was a boy. Congratulations.
Geez. So, I walked out to where the WUBAs were waiting, and Lori came up to me first, and I told her the good news, and then all the WUBAs congratulated me. I announced that I was "pregnant" with a boy, and I expressed concern that I had told all of them before telling Dave, and I showed them the baby. I was really upset about having the baby to haul out of there with me, because it didn't make sense. "What am I supposed to do with it?" They said I just had to keep it on the list. "But what does that MEAN?!" I was asking. They meant that I literally had to physically place the baby, in its chicken bucket, on top of a list of some sort and keep it there until it was ready. I don't know what that meant, but I understood that the baby wasn't "ready" yet. The "doctor" specialized in envitro deliveries, so she had delivered it envitro. WHAT??? But I didn't ask for an envitro delivery. I asked for a pregnancy test! Now what?! And what the hell is an envitro delivery???
Suddenly, Lori piped in with how she thought that envitro deliveries were only for mothers who had delivered before, and this was my first pregnancy. The doctor and her employees became very agitated, and they whispered amongst themselves. There was a flurry of activity as they tried to solve the problem, and I thought maybe they were going to stick the baby back in me.
I was really, really upset, because this meant that I wouldn’t get to experience the pregnancy at all, since the baby would develop inside of the chickent bucket. I wouldn’t get a pot belly, and that made me really sad. They did say I could drink alcohol, but that didn’t make me feel better. I wouldn’t gt to be pregnant! In the end, they just sent me home, and I put the baby in the back seat and drove off.
The next thing I knew, we were at the strip mall again, and the baby boy was about 11, and he was with me in a candy store or something. He was a cute boy, with blue eyes, and his hair was blond and black, patchwork style. His name was Dillon. And then I woke up with my heart pounding.
Good grief. That was a very, very rough morning. :) Don't anybody jump to any conclusions about my anxiety dreams, ok? There are several factors that can explain most facets of the dream.
1. I just watched all 3 seasons of Lost in a matter of days. They talk a lot about lists in that show. There is also a lot to do with babies and fertility and pregnancy and birth in that show.
2. I received an email from my friend Naomi last night, sent to all the WUBAs.
3. I just started watching Rome, and the actors, several of them, look Greek to me.
4. I had plans to get my hair cut today, and that always causes some anxiety.
5. The bass guitarist who just performed the other night on Victory had white-blond hair that looked like elephant ears on the sides and a duck butt in the back.
6. I don't know why the baby would be called Dillon but it is a nice name. It's my best friend's brother-in-law's name.
So, that's about it. I hope you all had a nice laugh at my expense.