Mortaine’s Blog

It rained again today. It rained yesterday, too.

It’s April. When will the rain stop already?

I suppose I shouldn’t get this upset. It’s only rain, after all. It rained on my wedding day, too, and that was in May.

*sigh*

I’m going to go have lunch now.

But first I gotta tell you about my dream last night….

I was a gypsy girl in a very old Gypsy family– one of the remaining two. The Gypsies were all gathering somewhere for a reunion type of thing, and I realized, just a little too late, that one of the men who hunt the Gypsies would have easy pickin’s on us, since we would all be in one place.

I watched a video of a man with a large nose coming towards us, travelling over the lands to reach where we were gathering, and I was very scared. I had one sister and one little brother, and the other family had three daughters. I reached into my bag and put my hand on my knife, and resolved to keep it there until after the gathering was over. But just as I looked up, I saw a man in front of me taking off his cloak, and I recognized his face from the nose– it was the hunter! He saw me, saw that I recognized him, and said “Ah, well, I guess it’s too late, then, isn’t it?”

My eyes went really wide, and I pulled out the knife and stabbed him in the chest. When I drew the knife out, it was very clean and shining, but there was red blood on it. Still, he laughed and said I’d only scratched him. “Go ahead, try and cut through this chainmail” he laughed. He looked like he was wearing normal clothes, and when I shoved the dagger in him again, he still laughed, but it felt like it went in to the hilt. Finally, I knew I’d at least wounded him, but I also knew I would never win.

I made a deal with him, that I and my sister and the three girls from the other family would go with him. He’d basically be depriving our Gypsy families of their future generations, I explained. My father, a Gypsy man with a big, full, black beard, was very angry with me for this, but my mother understood. Neither of them mentioned my little brother, knowing that the hunter would take him, too.

Just as we left, one of the girls from the other family said “What about Alex?” And the hunter knew then about my little brother. So he took him, too. We travelled for a while, but then the hunter got weak and sick from my knife wounds. The girls from the other family disappeared, but I said we would need a horse. We went back to my family and traded my brother for a horse.

The hunter and I then travelled, him getting weaker and weaker until I had to carry him and hold him while he kept bleeding and getting sicker and sicker.

At some point, maybe in a different dream?, I ran into my father and mother at a restaurant, where I was working as the entertainment, I think. They disapproved and pretended not to recognize me.

I have a lot of dreams lately where I recognize someone, and they see me and know I’ve recognized them. Interesting.

John and I went to bed last night at 9:00. He had fallen asleep on the couch, so he was suddenly AWAKE, whereas I was dead and kept having to poke him to stop bugging me.

And then I overslept. How the hell does one sleep for 9 and a half hours?

Dammit.

Here is my non-scale victory for the week:
About 3 weeks ago, my jeans started getting really tight. I could still zip them up, but only barely, and it was taking longer and longer for them to “relax” and be comfortable enough to wear. All of my other slacks (which are a size smaller than the jeans) are very very tight right now (unwearable), which means that I was heading out of the jeans-size and into the next size up. Not a happy thing.

After two days on WW, I was able to put on my jeans and zip them up today without having to jump around and suck in my gut and do all the things I have been doing for 3 weeks to get them on and zippered. Yay! I’m sure a lot of that is water coming off, but so what? The past 3 weeks of gain/heaviness have probably also been water.