Somewhere In The Middle

Half of the time, I can’t remember the things I dream.  It seems like when I do remember them I’d wish I didn’t.  Yesterday was one of those days.  Maybe I watch too many horror movies or maybe I am just a disturbed person.  My dreams have been imbedded into my head.  What’s worse is they are happening in the state of sleep paralysis (half asleep/half awake) which can be outright terrifying.  

Yesterday, I was feeling exhausted around two in the afternoon.  I decided to lie down and take a nap before the kids came home from school.  I’m sure it was the snow that had crept into Oklahoma recently that made me feel so sleepy.  I curled up into the bed and nuzzled under the covers.  I dreamed I was taking a nap and woke up.  In my bedroom, there was an attic door on the ceiling that had been pulled down with the door extended.  In reality, there is only access to the attic up the stairs and it is a walk in attic.

In the dream, I was only slightly alarmed by the open attic.  I climbed out of bed and in my living room there was another attic on the ceiling with the ladder extended.  In the dining room, it was the same thing only the ladder had been broken into pieces on the floor.  The hallway closet was open.  It was the open closet that made my heart start to race.

I picked up my cellphone and dialed 911.  The operator was an idiot who I repeatedly gave my address to over and over again.  It was as if I was on a three-way call with the 911 operator and the police department.  I pleaded for them to send someone to my house and stated that someone is in here with me.

As I am pleading for them to help me, everything in my house turns on almost as if the electricity had been out.  The fans are spinning at their highest speeds.  The televisions and radios are all blaring loudly.  All of the lights came on at the same time.  At this point I look down the hallway and I noticed my son’s door begin to open and a shadow creeps out into the hallway.  I take off back towards my bedroom and into my closet where the safe room is located.  I make it into the room and slam the door behind me.  I manage to lock it as whoever it is stands on the other side trying to turn the knob.  I can see a shadow underneath the door.

Then I wake up, fully alert.  My heart is pounding in my chest.  I look at the clock and only about a half an hour has passed since I first laid in the bed.  Yeah, nap time was over.

Later that night after I sent the kids to bed, I climbed into my bed around 10:30pm.  I dreamed I woke up again and the bathroom door and closet doors were open.  Immediately, I felt startled.  I never sleep with doors open.  I heard whispering all around me and one by one I started to see these cloud-like, smoky images in front of me.  They appeared to have facial features and it looked as though they were whispering.  I tried to climb out of the bed but I was tangled in the covers.  I knew I was dreaming and was trying to get myself to wake up.  The whispers felt as if they were getting louder and louder.

I woke with a jolt and all at once there was silence.  I glanced over at the clock and thirty minutes had passed yet again.

Am I saying my house is haunted?  Not at all.  I do think something is weighing on my subconscious though.  Maybe I am being haunted by something like my own failure.  Who really knows though, right?  Maybe I just watch to many horror movies…

I Lost My Boarding Pass

My agnostic mind, although relieved the rapture did not transpire, was intrigued to say the least of the miniscule possibility of people “disappearing”.  Last night, I laid awake thinking about how awful it would be since my husband was on the other side of the planet. How would he get to us?


To say I have an over-active imagination would be an understatement. My mind journeyed through scenario after scenario. I’m the queen of the “what ifs”. Sometimes I wonder why I haven’t locked myself in a closet somewhere.


I called my mother and basically said, “Look. Although I think this is a crock of shit, I wanted to tell you good-bye… just in case I’m wrong.” As an agnostic, I do not claim to know what others are sure about.

As I said, I laid in bed thinking about how things would play out. I thought about if this god decided to take his flock and leave behind the rest of us how angry I would be if he didn’t take my children. What an asshole that would make him to punish the innocent because of my choices and beliefs…or lack thereof.

Also, I wondered what would happen to society. Would we crumble? Obviously something as major as the rapture would change life as we know it. That’s a no brainer but would civilization itself fail to exist? Would we live in a state of post “apocalyptica”…all because some “sheep” disappeared?

Then…of course…my brain turned to zombies. Shocking, right? Me? Zombies?

I thought about if just the souls of the “sheep” were raptured what exactly would be left behind? Lifeless bodies? Rotting corpses? Would these “souls” merely be the thing that makes us human in the first place? Would the rapture of these souls leave behind the living dead, violent…without any remorse? After all if those of us left behind are to be punished and tormented until the grand finale of existence than that would sure be how I’d fuck with folks if I was this god people are so set on selling their souls to.

That’s another thing…the concept of being “left behind” is ludicrous to me. Why would a god after mercilessly torturing his strayed flock allow them to still “accept Jesus as their Lord and Savior” to avoid eternal damnation? Does that sound stupid to anyone else? I mean, holy fuck! Who in their right mind would choose NOT to believe at that point?????? So, in other words…regardless of how you live this life post rapture you still get to go to heaven. You may just need to deal with a few minor setbacks like some plagues and shit.

Now some people are demanding a public apology from a one Harold Camping who started this rapture nonsense. I guess I’d feel the same way if I shared similar beliefs.  If I was a believer…especially if I was one of his followers I’d be pissed. Some people took this nonsense as gospel. As with anything, you’ve got your coo coo banana heads that take a small slice of crazy pie and turn it into a whole freaking bakery like this loco broad.



I leave you with this. It seems appropriate.



And if you would be so kind as to show me a little love that would be superb.

This Is Heavy, Doc!

Lately I suppose with all this talk of Time Travel Month over at Nuclear Headache (not to be confused with the cheesier version) so fresh in my brain, I’ve been thinking about all the things I would say to the teenage version of myself. Of course, all this weighing on it not causing the universe to implode or me disappearing from photographs a la Marty McFly style.


First and foremost, I would tell my past self that the one guy I decided to lose my virginity to was (and will always be) a complete tool and waste of oxygen. AVOID by all means! I’m sure many of you wish you hadn’t wasted your first time on such an ass. I’m not saying I should have waited until marriage necessarily (please don’t tell my future teenage daughter) but I definitely would have skipped over his dumb ass. As a rule of thumb, if his name forms an alliteration it’s probably because his mommy knew he was a joke even from the womb.

Another tidbit of information I would share with myself is that even though your family is obviously a bag of mixed nuts, things won’t always be so difficult and confusing. Mostly mom won’t always seem so psychotic. She just has no clue what she’s doing and she’s learning day by day. It’s a bitch (especially when you are the oldest) but it paves the way for her to learn from her mistakes. Whether she admits it to you or not, she doesn’t mean half the shit that comes out of her mouth. Try not to take her need to control everything at whatever cost personally. It will only cost you years of therapy…time you could be spending doing things you actually enjoy.

Also, your mom is going to tell you that those girls that were mean to you were just jealous of you. Oh my god! They SO were. Your C-cup (ok, and the fact that you were so much cooler than they were) made you comparable to the hooker in the movie “Love Potion #9” after she drank the concentrated potion. This is what I mean…


So don’t be sad. Just poke your chest out a little further and apologize to them for not being flat chested like them…as you steal their boyfriends. Just kidding….or am I?

After you get married, there will be this Puerto Rican woman that lives near you. She is going to tell you she is a witch and she knows you and your husband are having issues mostly because he is still extremely immature. She’s going to tell you to never give up on him even when things get really dark. You are going to think she is crazy (and you may be a little right) but being a little eccentric is what makes her so clairvoyant. She is also going to tell you there will be times you will have to be a bystander and not get involved in his growing up process to protect your soul and that of your child (who by the way you weren't even pregnant with just yet). Her words will always stay with you and the future you (aka me) is glad she didn’t throw the towel in as soon as things got messy.

Somewhat on the same topic, I would remind myself that other people’s setbacks do not mold you unless you let them. When you go through those dark times, keep your head up and push forward. No one is going to drag you out the hole where you risk ending up. Only you can prevent forest fires. No, wait. What I mean is, only your own strength can prevent depression and it IS inside of you even when you feel weak.

Another thing on a smaller note I would share is that when my family is evacuating from Hurricane Katrina (which by the way IS the infamous Big One the city of New Orleans has been fearing and the media has been wringing their hands impatiently waiting for), remind Mom to bring the photo albums and family videos or at the very least put them up high in a closet. So many memories will be lost if she doesn’t. Also, tell her to knock down the wall between the dining room and the living room just because it will save us all the headache of having to hear about it years later that she should have did it when they were remodeling after the storm.

One of the last things I would tell myself is simply; don’t forget how to be a kid. Your children will thank you for it.


Again, these things are all quips of knowledge I’d share with myself if there wasn’t a chance of causing horrible repercussions. I’m sure in the event that time travel is made available to the likes of everyday folks such as me; we can only hope scientists will know for sure the do’s and don’ts of traveling through time.

If travel was limited to observation, I would skip my past and observe more important times in history not involving myself like the building of the pyramids. I’d much prefer for the sake of observation, I could also remain unseen a la Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol. Then, I would DEFEINTELY go observe me some dinosaurs. I would also like to observe all of the questionable “god” appearances that different religions stake their claim to faith on.

I Got A Golden Ticket!

I got a golden ticket. Well, it’s actually more silvery but it’s metallic and sparkly all the same. Bryan over at Nuclear Headache has deemed me worthy of head trauma this award. Thanks, Mr. White. I hope I make you proud.

Now for the rules…I hate rules.

1. Link back to the jerk that gave you the award. (Karma is a bitch, Bryan. I’ll get you, my pretty, and your little blog too. Wow!  I'm corny.)

2. Share eight things about myself. (There were seven but odd numbers make me uncomfortable. I guess I’m a snob like that...or a nut.  You make the choice.  Oh, well. Either way...BONUS!)

3. Punish ten other bloggers I'm currently following. (I’m bringing you all down with me!)

4. Let them know that you have passed this curse on to them. (And don’t pretend that I haven’t just left you a comment on your blog telling you, bitches!)


Ok. On with the show…

1.) I have been married almost 12 years (end of May). Yes, that’s right. There is a man out there that can put up with my unique form of craziness…deploying to the Middle East every so often also helps.

2.) Although I am generally anti-religion, I have read the Bible from cover to cover about 3 times in my life by my own choosing. As an old piece of literature, I find it interesting. I have read the New International Version (NIV), the King James Version, and the American Standard Version. I wish I knew Hebrew and Aramaic so I could read non-translated versions. I own many books on world religions and I am very interested in reading more. Humanity's need for faith is what intrigues me.

3.) When I go to sleep at night the bedroom, the bathroom, and closet doors all must be closed or I can’t fall asleep. I think it is a childhood habit I’ve never been able to shake.  Maybe there are owls in there.

4.) When I was in high school, I was president of the drama club and I played Alice in Alice in Wonderland.

5.) I have never been outside of the United States. It is a sad, sad life that I lead. However, before I see other countries I want to see more of my own country.

6.) I love camping and I wish I could do it more.

7.) I was Girl Scout for six years as a child and I am tickled that my daughter has continued the tradition.

8.) I read A LOT of zombie books and I watch A LOT of zombie movies. I am not ashamed!

Now I’m supposed to pass this on to 10 other bloggers that I keep up with. HA, HA! Suckers!

Debbie @ No Filter Mom
She’s a trip and she likes lists so this is right up her non-filtered alley.

Tiffany @ Shhhh! Just Between U & Me
This will be a fun welcome back award for when she gets back on the blogging boat.

Mother Theresa @ The Rain in Spain...
My only rule is she can’t give it to Erik…because Erik gets everything! (Just kidding, MT!)

Smart Ass Sara @ Welcome to Sara's Organized Chaos
She always comes up the craziest shit. I look forward to reading her list.

Jewell @ Really?! Wait! What?
She’s my shiny new friend and that makes her eligible for a kick ass award from me.

Kamilla @ Basket of Dreams
She’s silly and I enjoy following her American adventures. I wish I knew Tagalog so I could read her Philippine blog.

Tanya @ A Taste of T
Thought Bubble Thursdays are enough to earn her this shiny award.

Jacky @ Life And My Craft
This girl has got skills with that camera. I enjoy looking at all her shots.

Doris @ Sprinkles of My Life
She was always fun, going way back. I enjoy keeping up with her “sprinkles” in Italy.

Cat @ Zipbag of Bones
She’s hysterical and I don’t remember where the hell I found her but I’m glad I did.

Now apparently, I must be a closet feminist considering I just dished this bad boy out to 10 women. Oh well. I look forward to reading all of your blogs when you guys finally brag post about your super spectacular award.

Oh and by the way…happy freaking Valentine’s Day. If you are getting laid tonight, I fucking hate you. That is all.

Socially Awkward or Just Antisocial?

Most of my life has been spent feeling like some sort of outcast. Being an adult, not much has changed. I'd like to say I don’t care as much anymore but moving away from family and friends in New Orleans is starting to take its toll on me especially since the husband is away.


I have ZERO friends here. It’s my own fault since I automatically assume people will not like me once they get to know me. Let’s face it I’m a weirdo and even though I embrace it most other people do not. However, I wonder at times if I’m just an asshole. On top of making the assumption that most people will not accept me, I also tend to avoid the people who seem accepting of me because I conclude they are just bat shit crazy.

My best friend can’t understand how I can go so long cutting myself off from the world. She says I’m doing an injustice to the potential friends around me by not letting anyone in. The truth is I’m lazy. Making new friends is time consuming and has left me disappointed so many times that I don’t even want to try anymore.

Today I took my daughter to a friend from school’s birthday party. I met a few other parents who were nice but… (You knew there would be a “but” right?)  I don’t want to say they were Stepford but I got the whole sorority sister vibe from them which automatically made me feel like everything that came out of my mouth was being judged. What’s sad is I KNOW it is all in my head and I KNOW I miss out on making friends this way.  Also, when I think about it, it sort of makes me come off as thinking everything is about me.  (It is, right?)  There's my Leo showing.

Mother fucker! I swear I must need therapy.

I find myself thinking of that Adam Sandler bit..."Oh, Mom!"



Also, this...



What makes things worse is since I’m a parent; I’m always worried that my own social awkwardness is going to affect my children in some way or another. I’m the mom that cusses like a sailor. I’m the mom that not only doesn’t go to church but is agnostic (but may as well be atheist…oooo, PROJECT). I’m the mom that isn’t skinny and doesn’t wear make-up every day. I’m the mom that is inappropriate and is constantly cracking jokes. I’m the mom with the pierced tongue. And these things, my internet buddies, are the things that I allow them to see.

What would they say if they knew I go through at least a fifth of Bacardi almost every weekend by myself? How about if they knew I LOVE to play Rockband and even more so when I’m drunk? What if they knew that Rockband usually leads to drunken karaoke in the garage while smoking Black & Milds?

I’ll admit. I’m envious of the people that seem to make friends easily. I feel I am incapable of juggling many friends. I’m not looking to fill an address book with acquaintances. I would just like to make one or two friends around here I can let loose with from time to time. I’m smart enough to know I am my own worst enemy here.

::shake my head:: I am a sad, sad spectacle sometimes but I’m always prepared to laugh at my own faults.

My Brain Is Slightly Undead

I’m not ashamed to admit that I have a vivid imagination. I always did and I’m sure I always will. As a child, I was the go-to person for all my friends if they wanted help bringing some outlandish make-believe game to life. Now days, rainy days are no match for my children when I’m around especially if there is a box large enough to climb inside. How I never got involved in role-playing games like Dungeons and Dragons I’ll never know. Oh, wait, yes I do. It was “demonic” according to the church my mother forced me to attend with her and god forbid; I went against the grain of the other sheeple and did something creative.

Lately, I’ve been making posts here and there about the weirdness in my brain such as my invisible stalkers and my feathered spirit guide. Today, I invite you to take another trip inside my mind’s eye into what happens when someone is obsessed with zombies. Yes, zombies. When you spend many days on end reading books, watching movies (and television shows thanks to The Walking Dead series), and visiting websites about zombies, it comes as no surprise when my gray matter concocts visions about the undead.

A few nights ago I dreamed that my kids and I were in New Orleans at my husband’s grandparent’s home. As we sat hanging out in the living room, the grandparents came out of their bedroom. Even in the dream itself, I was caught off guard by seeing Maw-Maw. My subconscious mind had registered that she was dead. In reality, she has been since April of 2010. What made this odd (even for a dream) is she looked vibrant and youthful like I had seen her in photographs from the 70s and early 80s. The kids, of course, ran to give her a hug. They were excited to see her and probably couldn’t wait for the spoiling to begin all over again. I don’t blame them.

On the other hand even my dream-self had to know how she happened to be there. I asked what the hell was going on. She sort of looked at me like she was surprised I wasn’t already aware. Then she proceeded to tell me that a few days ago Paw-Paw picked her up from the cemetery and began feeding her. Paw-Paw stepped forward. He looked worn and tired. Then, he showed me his arm.

Most of his forearm was a grayish color, giving him a Gollum-esque flesh tone. To keep her alive, he had been allowing her to feed off of him. The feedings were not a form of vampirism as she didn’t puncture his skin to drain his blood. In a sense she was a type of zombie but instead of ingesting the flesh, she was absorbing his life force or aura. In the dream, this was accepted as a form of science, mad science, but science nonetheless.

Upon waking from this mental vision, I believe somehow Keanu Reeves possessed me for second or two because all I could do was sound a drawn out “Whoaaaaaaaa.” Then I questioned if I took the red pill or the blue pill before bed. I’m going to guess it was the blue one.

While Visions Of Owls Danced In My Head?

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I Always Feel Like Somebody's Watching Me

Some people are believers.  Some people are not.  For once, I’m not referring to religion.  I am referring to the supernatural and the paranormal.  Always I have held a deep interest in the occult.  Something about the unseen and unknown gives me butterflies in my stomach.  It is a hunger that cannot be satisfied.

Today something unsettling happened that made me think maybe just maybe everything else is not a figment of my imagination.  I let my dog inside and told him to go lay down in his spot in the living room in front of the fireplace.  He seemed to be distracted by something off in my bedroom.  He lay down as he was told but in this almost Sphinx-like pose, head up straight, rigid posture.  His ears twitched a little but other than that he was very still.  He then began to growl very low as he continued to stare into the darkness of my bedroom.  You must know, for the most part, Deuce is a very silent dog.  Other than the snorting and slobbering sounds, he very seldom barks or howls much less growls.  So you can imagine my concern when he began to make his deep guttural complaints.

Moments later, I managed to build the nerve to walk in that direction.  He stood up but he did not come forward.  I stood in the doorway and called him over.  He refused to come.  He just stood there staring.  Outside, I could hear an owl hooting.  It sounded like it was in the tree outside my window.  (More about owls in a later post.)

That experience would have been weird all on its own but it got me thinking about other strange things that have happened, one thing in particular that happened early this morning.  Around 4ish this morning, I awoke fast and startled.  I had that feeling like someone was standing over me.  My heart was racing.  To say that I was shaken would be a total understatement.  I tried to rationalize things as I often do by telling myself that I must have been dreaming and since I woke up so quickly I wasn’t able to remember the dream.  I began to calm down.

Around thirty minutes passed and I began to settle back down.  Then there was a little knock at my bedroom door.  I was almost afraid to answer.  From my bed I called out, “Yes?”  To my relief I was answered by my seven year old daughter who said, “Mommy?  I’m scared.  Can I sleep in your bed?”

In hindsight, after the dog incident of course, I am wondering if any of these things mean anything at all or am I just making mountains out of mole hills.

When we first moved here to Oklahoma, on a few occasions I had that same feeling of being watched.  It happened very similar to how it took place this morning.  Only this particular time, it seemed as if I were in a half asleep/half-awake state.  I remember I felt paralyzed in my bed and unable to talk.  There were two male figures I saw with my peripheral vision.  Each figure stood on either side of the bed.  One appeared to by heavy set while the other appeared to be thin.  Both seemed tall.

On numerous occasions, I felt the fat man and the skinny man’s vacant stares.  One time I could swear that the skinny man actually punched me in my side and pinched my shoulder.  I woke up the next morning sore in those two spots.  Other times when I’ve seen them they were standing in front of my closet but always staring.   You know, I say “staring” but the truth of the matter is they are silhouettes so I can’t really make out facial features.

I’d like to say that these sorts of things are limited to Oklahoma but the truth is experiences like these happen every so often.  Most often they take place when I’m not sure if I am awake or asleep.  Of course, the logical person in me wants to brush it off as simply a case of having a vivid imagination.  However, the creative and imaginative side of me takes solace in the “what ifs” of life and embraces the unseen.

As I’ve said, I’m no stranger to weird happenings.  Luckily for me, being that I’m a scaredy cat and all, I do not “see dead people” like in the movie The Sixth Sense.  I’m not ashamed to admit I do not like the dark…at all.  There is something about not being able to see into the shadows that eats at me.  I can send myself into a panic attack just by thinking about what a shadow could be or what a noise may be.  The scary part is always “what if” I’m right.

So, yes, I can be a baby but as I said strange things have taken place…

In Texas a few years back, we were living in post housing.  I was lying in my bed reading.  I looked over the top of my book at the metal closet doors that were pretty common in the housing community that I lived in.  There were faces pressing against the metal as if they were on the inside trying to push their way out.  The best way to give you a visual is imagine places a plastic bag over a doorway so that it is pulled tight.  Then the person on the other side presses their face and hands against it almost like they are push through plastic.  That is what it looked like.  As I said, my closet doors were metal.

As if the faces in the closet weren’t freaky enough, on another occasion in the same house I woke up to people in my room around my bed.  They weren’t flesh and blood people.  They were completely transparent almost like a bubble but I could make out features on them.

At the time, I was seeing a therapist, who had put me on Ambien.  The next session I described the bubble people and the closet faces to my therapist.  I requested to be taken off of the Ambien.  Even if those things are there, I don’t think I want to see them although I think the Ambien caused mild hallucinations.

Think I’m weird yet?  Well, so do I sometimes.

Most times, I’m half asleep when things happen but every so often things have happened when I am fully lucid and there are people around me.  It’s those times I am thankful.

Years ago, I rented my grandfather’s house while he lived with his second wife in her home.  The house I rented was the house he lived at with my grandmother who had passed away many years ago.  I chose the master bedroom for myself and put my son in the bedroom next door to mine.

The very first night I stayed there my younger sister who was about 11 or 12 at the time stayed with me.  My son had stayed by his grandparents for the night.  As we laid there in the dark trying to sleep, the bedroom door swung open.  It opened with such force; the door hit the wall and bounced halfway back.  My sister and I looked at each other almost to reassure ourselves that the other saw the same thing.  I got up and closed the door, making sure it had closed all the way this time.

My sister and I were a little shaken and as we talked about it I tried to calm her by saying the air conditioner must have kicked on and caused that.  I honestly wanted to believe it myself.  Eventually she went to sleep.

I laid there in silence and my logical side was slowly losing the battle.  The more I thought about it the more my mind tried to piece it all together.  Normally, when the a/c clicked on if the door was partially open it would suck close.  I tried to remember if one of us actually closed the door.  I could not remember either of us closing it all the way.  Then I thought of my grandmother.

After my grandmother died, my mother referred to her as my guardian angel.  So I always pictured her as such, except my guardian angel grandmother had a More Menthol in one hand and Dixie Beer in the other.  Prior to her death, my grandmother gave me a holographic picture that showed two children walking across a bridge, hovering over them was a beautiful angel.  I still have the picture.  It is now above my daughters bedroom door.

There’s one of those “what ifs”.  What if she came into her bedroom trying to see who was there?  After that I thought maybe she didn’t know who I was since she passed when I was 3.  So I began to have little conversations with myself out loud on and off.  I would walk around saying things like, “Maw Maw it’s me, Ashley Denice.”  Sometimes, I would be rocking my son to sleep and I tell her out loud who he was.

A few weeks later, my sister slept over again.  This time through the baby monitor, we heard a woman singing.  We could also hear my son awake, not crying just awake and at ease.

I never felt afraid in the house.  I just felt like I wasn’t alone.  One night, although I did not feel threatened my husband did.  At the time, we were separated.  He was there even though my grandfather had declared he was not welcome.

While I was sleeping, I awoke with the familiar feeling of someone standing over me.  I felt paralyzed.  I was unable to open my eyes or speak.  The next morning before I could tell my husband about my weird “dream”, he began to tell me about someone standing over him during the night.  He said that someone had pushed down on his chest almost like someone was sitting on him.  He said it was almost as if he was pushed right through the bed and box spring onto the floor.  He said he felt a suffocating feeling and he felt paralyzed and unable to fight back.  I stared at him for a few minutes without speaking because I was blindsided by his story.  Eventually, I did and for once my uber logical spouse actually seemed to genuinely believe me.

I’m not about to sit here and write about each and every time anything strange or unusual has happened to me or around me.  I tried to focus on the most recent or most significant.  I hope you enjoyed my “sharing” session.