Bring out the violence

The violent dreams have returned! Last night, I dreamt that pregnant me was living at my Mom’s house with her and her boyfriend. They were in the middle of some huge fight, which I tried to break-up, only to be threatened by the boyfriend. He basically threatened to beat the shit out of me with the telephone he was carrying (old-fashioned corded, heavy phone – none of that cordless stuff) for interfering. My response was to grab the receiver from his hands, slug him across the head with it, and then kick him in the groin, and run. I am never this violent. And never, ever have I thought it appropriate to kick a man in that way. My Mother was adamant about teaching me the dangers of kicking my brother in the balls when I was his mean, older sister (of course, who am I kidding, I’m just his slightly less mean older sister now), and my head was filled with the horrors of preventing him from fathering children. So to think I would do something so heinous, even in a dream, is surprising. In the dream, kicking him sort of felt like delivering a swift kick to a bean bag. It’s interesting how the mind will provide details for experiences one has never had.

I spent yesterday evening with Ginger. We chatted for a little bit, enjoying the ample shade provided by her patio, and then decided to do our evening stroll around her neighborhood. We walked for about an hour, and while doing this does not usually wear us out, we were both exhausted when we got back. Must be something to do with exercising when it’s still 95 degrees outside.

Apparently yesterday we broke a temperature record (high of 103 at Bergstrom, and 104 at Camp Mabry). It doesn’t sound like a lot of heat for someone who lives in say, Phoenix, or Death Valley, but it certainly packs a punch when any humidity is involved. My poor plants are fighting the good fight, but I’m almost to the point where I feel it necessary to do morning and evening watering. The only hope comes in knowing that some degree of comfort should be here in about a month. You know, when it stops topping out at 100 degrees, and begins to be only 92 degrees. It would figure that one of the hottest summers we’ve experienced in a while would get its groove on while I’m pregnant. Just my luck.

So I plan to see Black Orpheus at the Paramount on Monday evening. If any of you in-towners would like to join me, let me know! This is one of my very favorite films, not only for its most fabulous soundtrack (my life for you, Jobim), but also the story (a retelling of the Orpheus and Eurydice legend). There is sort of a personal connection between me and this film, that I might look to expound upon after seeing it in all its theatre glory. Watching it repeatedly on my 19″ TV has likely done little justice to the beauty of it.