Art and Trash

My boyfriend and I went to First Friday in lovely downtown Phoenix last night. It was hot and uncomfortable, but I love the art scene there...at least I used to.

It's not about the art anymore. It's about a bunch of kids running around, or standing near a DJ spinning hardcore dance music while one or two people dance. It was painful seeing a middle school dance re-creation. Oh, and the really horrendous, ear-blood-educing "music" by a couple of Joe Blows who think their sound is revolutionary? You're a hipster magnet, so don't go quitting your day jobs just yet. I do admire your attempts to draw in a scout or a record label executive of sorts, but it's not going to happen. And if it does, how many blow jobs did it take? If you're doing it for the love of what you can create with an instrument, kudos.

The thing that really bothered me is how so many people in DTP claim to be "green" and preach all this Save the Planet bullshit when there was trash all over the streets. I don't think there was one block that didn't have empty bottles and fliers sprinkled around the sidewalk. One girl even mentioned something about the trash, then threw her empty pastry box on the ground and kept walking. HYPOCRITE! I know I'm probably shouting on my soap box to deaf ears and I should probably take some sort of action. But, it's not my job to clean up other people's messes. Take responsibility for your own garbage!

Not So Sweet Dreams

It seems like I've had the same dream, just strung together and spaced out. I wake up and I want to cry or punch someone because it seems so real. It's so vivid, yet the elements are dream-like.

Basically, all three dreams have had one common factor: I see my boyfriend kissing another girl. I beat the shit out of her, but I can't feel my fists making contact and my swings don't seem to have any affect on her. Last nights dream was the most emotional one thus far.

My boyfriend, my sister, myself, and a few other people went to a restaurant of sorts. I left to go order some food, but upon returning I saw my boyfriend and some girl in a wig in a lip lock. I jumped on the table and tackled the girl, then started beating her face in. Her wig fell off and it was my sister. Then I looked at my boyfriend and starting beating his face in, crying and asking why would he do this to me again.

The dream shifted to me in the passenger's seat of an old blue pick-up truck and some guy was driving. We were talking about opening a diner and how we would take the orders. He wanted to use some computer program, and I said we should just use an order form. We drove around these really weird looking buildings, which had these crazy designs and had lights all around them. We found one that wasn't lit at all and had a "For Sale" sign on it. He got out, and my sister got in the driver's side, and we started driving around and talking like we usually do. I turned to her and asked her why she would hurt me so much by kissing the one person I've ever fell in love with, and she said he never loved me. Then I started hitting her and crying, calling her "Judas" and hissing at her. She pulled over and I kept trying to hit her, but she would move around too fast for my fists to make contact.

At this point in the dream, it's a little fuzzy. I remember holding a tiny baby, crying and telling my brother about what happened and one of my uncles laughing about it. But the part that sticks out the most is writing "Judas" all over my sisters car and screaming it at her between sobs.

I don't know what this dream is supposed to mean. Maybe I'm so paranoid about my boyfriend hurting me. Maybe I fear the worst: him falling for one of my sisters. But the part I can't get around is calling my sister Judas, who betrayed Jesus. (I added a nifty link in case you're unfamiliar with the name.

Hopefully, neither of these dreams come true. It'd make for an overly emotional blog, and no one wants to read that.

Song for this blog: Degausser-Brand New.