About Mamacita

My love for music is considered slightly obsessive. I love it and my favorite artists more than life itself. Writing and photography fight for a close 2nd place. Me? Pffffttttt! I'm managing. I've been slacking though. Time to get back to it. Baby steps.....

Too Soon?

In light of the recent ridiculous Tide pod challenge, I just can’t help my twisted sense of humor. I posted jokes in two places on social media today, and I’ve already gotten one very scathing message in my private inbox from an obviously fake profile.

Get a grip.

Does it really shock people when others make hilarious memes and horrible jokes about others’ misfortune? I mean let’s face it. Most people laugh at the expense of others in some way or another. People are the butt of jokes. I should know. I’ve endured it all of my life so far. Hell, I even got a Christmas card recently poking fun at something from my past. For a few seconds, I was like son of a bitch. But then I laughed it off as I put the card through my paper shredder.

But I digress. If you can’t laugh at life, why live? I take that back, because people might twist my words, thinking I’m encouraging some awful alternative to living.

Laugh a little, folks. Yes, terrible things happen. No, people aren’t going to stop making jokes about those things. As I say with other things that easily offend certain people, keep scrolling.

Good morning, and have a nice day.

PS: I just can’t help tagging ‘Food and Drink’. Bite me.

It’s So Cold

How cold is it?

It’s so cold, Jack Frost gave his 2 week notice.

It’s so cold, when I started my van, it mocked me.

It’s so cold, the garbage refuses to go out.

It’s so cold, my earmuffs cracked when I took them off.

It’s so cold, the ‘girls’ are offended.

It’s so cold, the mailman’s balls turned into ovaries.

It’s so cold, my cold drink laughed when I complained about brain freeze.

It’s so cold, my breath that was in the air did an about face back into my lungs.

It’s so cold, my inner ‘agile’ said screw you, and took a hike.

And finally, it’s so cold, my digital thermometer says ERROR

Dream Journal #16

I can’t recall much. I must’ve slept hard.

The only thing I do recall is traveling to visit a friend who I haven’t seen in a few years. She was the star of some huge Broadway type show, and her mother and boyfriend were going. But then at the last minute, her boyfriend didn’t show up, which essentially meant that he was breaking up with her.

The rest of my dream involved comforting her, and talking to her mom.

Somewhere in my dream, I was searching my purse for the correct cell phone to use so I could call home to let people know I wouldn’t be home for a few more days. Having multiple cell phones is a pain. You never know who is calling which one, and it’s easy to forget which one has the minimal data plan. Oops.

Dream Journal #15

It happened.  First demonic possession dream of the year.  I haven’t had one in a long time, and I’m not too jazzed, because I’m pretty sure I know what caused it.  

I don’t care to discuss the dream details.  Let’s just say it resembled a scene out of The Exorcist.  And then I spent most of the night awake since 3 in the morning.

I’ve recently been considering hypnosis to help me cope with certain things.  I’m not going to say what I listened to last night, but I would just like to warn people not to mess with any kind on online hypnosis, or anything subliminal – online.  You never know what someone’s intentions might be, and the next thing you know, horrible things are happening.

I won’t be doing that again.  I guess it’s back to square one, and doing things the old fashioned way – writing the same thought over and over, until I have trained my own brain.

Dream Journal #14

I’m so glad I decided to jot these dreams down early this morning. I would have completely forgotten most of the details.

Somewhere in my REM cycle, I was applying for a job. A nearby relative drove me into the city so I could turn it in. When we arrived at the building, there was a huge meeting going on, and I was supposed to meet with someone to attend it. I assumed it was my future manager. Come to find out, it was an orientation of sorts.

The building was enormous, and it took forever to find the correct conference room, which we were told that it isn’t anywhere near Melinda’s office. For some reason, whenever I have dreams about work or school, Melinda (my former office manager at a real job I had) and her office are always a part of those dreams. Except her office always looks like a DJ’s booth at a radio station.

Me and future manager were on our way to the north end of the campus, where there were hundreds of people. Secretaries were handing out post-it note name tags, and caterers were putting donuts at every place setting. There were no pens, so I had to borrow one, which earned me a stern look from all of the secretaries, because I was unprepared.

After slapping on my name tag, I noticed that there were stock car races going on outside, and I couldn’t wait for this meeting to be done.

When the company CEO finally emerged from under (YES, under!) his head table, he lectured about safety, insurance, and liability, and how it affects the company’s profitability. Following his lecture, we were instructed to play a video game, which demonstrated the differences between safe driving and reckless drag racing.

Afterwards, I was picked up and driven into Niagara Falls to meet my parents for dinner. When I arrived, they had already started eating without me. I remember feeling dejected and pissed off, so I ordered a pizza and sat by myself in a corner.

Then the Golden Girls walked in and ordered food. They were on break from filming, and wanted a ton of fried chicken and pizza for the rest of the filming crew. When they found out that I was eating the last pizza in the place, Rose got pissed and started flinging her chicken everywhere – imagine Betty White throwing fried chicken all over the place. But most of it wound up on the floor in front of her.

Once everything was cleaned up, I left to rent an SUV to drive to my parents’ house. They left the damn restaurant without me. When I arrived, there were pets waiting for me, and they needed to go outside. The dog got free of his leash and ran down the road to the next house.

When I finally came back after chasing him down, my dad was waiting outside with a shovel. It was winter, but the snow was sand, and it wasn’t cold. It was night time as well, but the sky was weird with a yellowish orange hue, and the stars were struggling to stay bright.

High rows and columns of clouds were slowly drifting over the town, and as I waited for them to pass, I got my cell phone ready to take a picture of the stars against the weird orange sky. But it was taking forever.

So, I went to my friend’s house next door. But she wasn’t home. Her brother and sister were, but they were asleep. My friend was apparently at the hospital getting her teeth fixed because they were making her sick. So I went back home to Dad, where he was still outside holding his shovel, and staring at the weird sky.

Now that the clouds finally passed, I got my cell phone out. But now I couldn’t get the right camera angle. So we went inside the garage, where supplies for a party and a garage sale were being set up. Mom was sleeping, and Dad told me to be quiet if I wanted a beer because they had to get up early to go to the flea market in the morning.

And then my bladder woke me up. Thank goodness not too early, because today is a sleep in day.

PS: My office manager’s name was changed to protect her identity.

Dream Journal #13

My favorite number! … My mother is turning in her grave. She hated that number. It was bad luck for her.

Speaking of 13, I was 13 in my dreams last night. It was weird because I had an older person’s body. I was back in school, under the scrutiny of a very bitter 8th grade teacher. I’m pretty sure I was sweating in my sleep, because when I woke up briefly to turn on my other side, my hair was damp and my heart was pounding. Bad memories haunting my subconscious, I guess.

When I went back to sleep, I immediately aged, and had another child, who looked just like my now 20 year old daughter did when she was a baby. We were back in our old home, and I was getting ready to take her for a walk in her stroller. Unlike my daughter when she was a baby, this baby in my dreams was full of laughter and smiles.

On my walk, I wound up at school again. The baby was with me still, and I was looking for the gymnasium. I think there was a competition. But I never made it because I accidentally slammed into another mother with a baby in her stroller. After a brief altercation, I left, and drove to the department of motor vehicles to renew my driver’s license.

UGH

I think this next part has to do with an article I read about Erie County New York possibly requiring a blood pressure test at the DMV. When I read this, I swear to God smoke billowed out of my ears. I know America is unhealthy, but there needs to be limits on where and when our health is monitored.

Before I start ranting about big brother, I need to talk about this trip to the DMV. They screened my vision, which is the part I hate, because I have problems with my eyes, which I don’t want to address because if I need to have anything done to my eyes to save my vision, I’m going to lose my marbles completely. Just stick me in the mental ward, because I’ll have permanent severe ptsd if I need to have any surgery on my eyes. I’ll be like one of those soldiers who saw shit in the Vietnam war.

But then the vision screening turned into a sales pitch and an attempt to collect on all of my horrendous medical debts. I signed my life away – again – and promised to pay for my new glasses in monthly installments. The lady at the vision center / DMV promised to come and take my eyesight away if I missed a payment.

JESUS H CHRIST … Time to wake the f*ck up!

Forgive Me

On my old blog, I used to post about David Garrett a lot. I can’t help it. People have no clue how often I’m tempted to blog about him on a daily basis. But, I need to keep a little variety on this new blog. Hence the reason why I’m writing about David right now, in light of my daily dream journal and the daily prompts.

I’ve seen this man in concert three times, and met him twice. I know it’s probably cliché to say this, but there really are no words when it comes to David and his talents.

I chose this example so that those who do not know of David can hear how truly talented he is, without his band backing him on stage.

I’ve been doing my best to distract myself from constantly listening to his music and wondering when he’ll return to North America for a tour, but I’m failing. MISERABLY. His music and charisma are like a drug. There can never be enough.

I’ll close with another fine example of the crossover music he performs …

… and a plea …

Please, David. I’m not sure how it works with your labels, but please please, I’m begging. Come back to America.

Dream Journal #12

I died last night. Not literally. But, after a stressful walk up a few icy steps, my nerves were dead, and I needed a drink. And then I fell into the soul sucking depths of my recliner once again – before 7 pm. I don’t know whether it’s the chair, or the ASMR knocking me into next week, but it seems that is when I get good sleep. Until I stumble off to my bed, where the old mattress wrecks my back and my crappy pillow makes my arthritic neck even worse come morning.

I hate long paragraphs.

Last night’s dreams were slightly whacked. But that’s par for the course with me. I had a lot of dreams, most of which I cannot recall. What little I do recall is a variation of other similar dreams I’ve had in the past.

I was at my aunt and uncle’s house in New Jersey. Except they weren’t in New Jersey. They were in some other … land … that could not be found on any map, or via GPS. But, we were there. Except for my aunt, I didn’t know anyone else.

The house was set on a beach, and the back yard was a freaking forest, which nobody was allowed to go into, because you risked your life if you did. So, the women stayed in the house, cooking enough food for an army. I kept asking why so much food, but nobody would answer. My aunt just kept pointing out the window at all the people in the back yard.

Okay. So, it’s a party. Time to get to work.

I couldn’t find a certain dish in the kitchen, so my aunt pointed toward her second kitchen on the other end of her massive house. Just how big is this damn house? Here we go, hunting down some dish in a suddenly quiet mansion, where the furniture had plastic on it, and strange music was playing in the distance. I hate this kind of dream.

It was getting darker outside, and the more I searched for this damn dish, the more the house became creepy. I remember having a strong sense of foreboding as I opened door after door, trying to even find the second kitchen.

Cooking and dish quickly forgotten, I found other rooms and strange cries could be heard. A voice in my head told me not to seek out the source of the cries. Well, shit. Of course I’m going to search! That’s what I do in my dreams. I just want the damn dish, and to find a bathroom all of a sudden.

Most of the time, when I’m searching for bathrooms in my dreams, the stalls almost always have doors that are too high, and everyone can see me peeing. That, and the toilets always fucking over flow. It’s getting ridiculous. Someone isn’t doing their job, and needs to be fired. Why is this always the case? It’s GROSS!

Anyways, after I endured snickers and wolf whistles, I pulled up my pants, and continued searching.

I found a huge winding staircase – which is never good, either – and worked my way into a grand library that overlooked the entire house. The books were on the damn ceiling, and for some reason, I didn’t find it at all strange. What was strange was the fact that there were now some kind of auditions going on below, and I couldn’t get back down to speak to any of the celebrity judges.

Instead, another stairwell appeared in the ceiling. How the hell do I get to THAT?! It wasn’t difficult. I just had to will myself there, and poof! I was opening another fucking door. I hate doors. They bother me tremendously.

Now the crying is even stronger, but with a hint of giggling. WTF????? Who is that? The voice in my head once again tells me to not go in. There’s apparently a tortured soul in there, bound by enchanted chains, and if anyone goes in there, she’ll go all GRUDGE on you, and then you’re dead.

Thankfully she didn’t get me. Instead, I finally found my way back into the first kitchen, where everyone was once again cooking, and pouring drinks. By this point, I was a wreck and needed a beer. But the only beer in the fridge were the gigantic Corona Extra bottles my other uncle had brought with him from out of town. That, and his gin and tonic. YUCK. I’ll take that huge beer, thanks.

And that was it, because now, it was 9:00 a.m., and I slept WAY too long. IT’S ABOUT TIME!!! I may not have liked those dreams, but I really needed that sleep. But now I’m tired from sleeping too much.

Time for a pot of coffee.

Hands Off

It isn’t fun being a freak
The tiniest zap makes me shriek
It doesn’t matter how many times
Once is enough in a lifetime

Ground yourself mom always said
It doesn’t work, I should be dead
I get it from her this horrid curse
Take it from me there’s nothing worse

Always careful never to touch
Wearing my shoes doesn’t help much
Try not to shuffle, drag, or rub
Lest I get shocked even in the tub

I can’t tell you how many times
Static loves me more than sometimes
I am responsible for the demise
Of many electronics it’s no surprise

There isn’t a day when I can evade
The evil shock monster who waits for its prey
Please do not touch me unless you want pain
And if you do yourself can you blame