T0p D0g Reloaded

“Dog

To see a dog in your dream, indicate a skill that you have ignored or forgotten, but needs to be activated. Alternatively, dogs may symbolize intuition, loyalty, generosity, protection, and fidelity. Your own values and intentions will enable you to go forward in the world and succeed. If the dog is vicious and/or growling, then it signifies some inner conflict within yourself. It may indicate betrayal and untrustworthiness. If the dog is dead or dying, then it indicates a loss of a good friend. Alternatively, it represents a deterioration of your instincts.

To dream that a dog bites your on the leg, suggests that you have lost your ability to balance aspects of your life. You may be hesitant in approaching a new situation or have no desire to move forward with your goals.

To see a happily barking dog in your dream, symbolizes pleasures and much social activity. If the dog is barking ferociously, then it represents your habit of making demands on people and controlling situations around you. It could also mean unfriendly companions.

To dream that you are buying a dog, indicates your tendency to buy your friends or buy compliments/favors. Alternatively, it suggest a need for you to find companionship.

To dream that you are dressing up your dog, signifies your attempts to cover up your own character flaws and habits.

Also consider the notions associated with the word dog, such as loyalty (”man’s best friend”) and to be “treated like a dog”.”

Source here.

Not only I have dreamed of a ferocious dog biting and grabbing the whole of my lower left leg, but I have finished Bruce Benderson’s The Romanian, and an American friend has actually been bit. Premonition, coincidence, or both?

Tags: a picture a day, book time to read, irl, sometimes I remember my dreams by monsoux
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Relax, nobody gets hurt. That’s mostly around myself. Take yesterday, for instance. The moment I got out of the house, I caught a little fly between my eyelids. Isn’t that special?! OK, OK, it was my righ eye, but still. Thirty minutes, a panic attack, two pharmacies, and half a bottle of eye wash later I have managed to remove the little thing. It has not survived the above mentioned hardships. Do you know the joke with the crocodile tamer and the blonde? Yeah, that’s how I felt, only nostrils dried from the antihistamines.

In other unrelated news, I have been to the bookshop. That’s the thief of my heart, now that the boyfriend is in the mountains. Buying books, underline buy, not read, makes me feel intellectual. Of course, at a cost. Also being the gay I am I have bought Madonna’s latest. And Lenny Kravitz’s. Tell you what, you wannabe DJs, these two don’t go together, not for the time being, I’ve tried.

And now off to work, celebrating by doing this Labour Day.

Tags: I am what I am and I will survive, I'm in love, ITCHY and dry, Jesse, Simon says, a picture a day, amused, book time to read, irl, jukebox treasures, my life as a dark comedy and the plot thickens, on the road, stingoo, work works by monsoux
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Reading. That is the advantage of traveling, when your plane is late beyond belief. Like the joke with the cops patrolling in pairs, one for reading and one for writing, I had all my bases covered. Five hours late(r) I had finished reading a book. For the time being bloguette007 was in charge with writing, in flesh, but there was little to write right then. Also, already done writing her piece was Anna Gavalda, with her I Wish Someone Were Waiting for Me Somewhere.

They say traveling is an experience, it opens your horizons, might even be a lesson. A simple mind could hastily conclude the more you are spending traveling the better you become, but that doesn’t go when it’s night an you are stuck in empty cold airport and you have actually finished reading your book.

If airport sleep deprivation was the cherry on the cake, it was a rotten one. But Barcelona, no connection whatsoever to my palatable reading, has pretty much made me feel so alive. If your cherry is rotten throw it away and enjoy the cake.

Tags: Barcelona, Simon says, a picture a day, bloguette007, book time to read, rantrantrant by monsoux
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A day that has passed is way sadder than a day still to come. It was his birthday. Her birthday. Another birthday. A funeral cortege was killed by a truck. Ten kids were left without their parents. I saw it on the news. That is why I don’t do funerals. I don’t do weddings either. Unless I am blackmailed.

For the third time I have tried finding Rondo Capricioso at the bookshop. They had three more copies, but were unable to locate them. I am probably the last person here who has not read the book.

I am trying. I have my questions, I have my words. It’s not a sollution. Dismiss poetry.

Tags: Simon says, T, book time to read, irl, my life as a dark comedy and the plot thickens, state of mind needs good governance by monsoux
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Generally, people’s unreliability is more reliable then their reliability, so count on the former rather then on the later.

Reflection is pretty much like physical exercise. It can hurt. But it is the nature of the exercise that leads either to a positive or negative outcome, among other things. As I am exercising myself, it took me more than five minutes to write down the last three words of the previous sentence.

I am drinking coffee with soy milk. Ironic, come to think about it. I remember how my parents dreaded the soy “coffee” of the 80’s.

I am reading “A Long Way Down” by Nick Hornby, in a very Wizzair cover. That was ironic too, as I sort of started the book waiting and flying that airline. I have also found some very nice paragraphs. Should any of you find the original text, let me know, I am interested.

OK, time to go, I am late again in my corporate world.

Tags: Simon says, a picture a day, book time to read, irl by monsoux
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I have 1,000 faces to hide myself under and they are all the same thing. And taking the pictures of the 1,000 faces is a lot like wanking, after a while, when it’s just a routine and you have other expectations: it’s just a routine and you have other expectations.

I am calm and not missing on any social call. I am learning words like floordrobe and phrases like escape goat. Check them out in the urban dictionary.

I am currently reading Agota Kristof, an older “acquaintance” of mine. I just can’t stop it. Reminds me of the times I was reading under my desk, book on my lap, ready to “loose it” the moment my mom would come to check on me. Instead of homework. Le grand cahier has, for me, a story I am planning to tell you soon.

Tags: a picture a day, book time to read, this blog rated: Parental Guidance, top dog by monsoux
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I guess sometimes frustration builds up to burst into solution. Has it ever happened to you?

First I loved the book, then I lost it, then I could not remember the title, then I forgot the name of the author, then to whom I had lent the book, in no time my brain cells were dying like plagued and I couldn’t tell anything. Like I was trying to mention something remotely at the end of this post. Not very successful, wasn’t it?

And then, I was just looking for the title tracks of Rodrigo Leão, a man, although the voice I have for Cinema is a woman’s voice, but then again Rodrigo is a composer. Frustration. Google. Landed here. Notice the name on the upper left corner… Bingo! More Google. And I have managed to spot the info I wanted on his home page.

Five Letters From An Eastern Empire: Describing Etiquette, Government, Irrigation, Education, Clogs, Kites, Rumour, Poetry, Justice, Massage, Town-planning, Sex and Ventriloquism in an Obsolete Nation, London: Penguin Books, 1995. 58p; £0.60; pbk (Penguin 60s)One of a series of sixty small books selling at 60p each to celebrate the sixtieth birthday of Penguin Books in 1995. The title page verso incorrectly gives the copyright date as 1951. The text is not illustrated. the front cover features the wizened head of the emperor, printed in black and white on a red roundel. Exactly so!

Tags: Simon says, book time to read, hanging in loose by monsoux
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Time is running out, like always. One only has 24 hours to do with.

Bref!

Read all about the rules here - sorry no time to translate them in English

I have been … erm booked (!) by Robert aka Adevaratul Mitzi, one of the most fascinating (and somehow nevrotic, but that’s good) people I know, also crusader of bags, king of style, and a psychologist. So you can track it back, guys.

My nominations are Lulutza, the storyteller trapped inside the body of doctor, hopefully soon to get inside people’s heads, if you know what I mean, Mazilique, journalist socialite and 007-reloaded fan (should I go, would you like to watch the movie one more time? I haven’t seen it yet) because people that are into good music must be into good books too, and favourite personal director (huh), Mitzi. It also feels right to link Adevaratul Mitzi to Mitzi, but that was just a side “attraction”. Sorry, the show must go on. Mitzi, make some time, not excuses. We all have to direct, you know?

And the book is “ In trei, un laborator sentimental” by Briant, Cretinon and Stoessel, Trei publishing house, Eroscop label, 142 well written and fairly well translated pages, reading time, in my case, slightly less than two hours. Because I have been hungry for this reading, because I have and I haven’t been there and because I am all for fascinating experiences. Three artists, a man and two women, decide to live and love together does not give away the plot. Not for the prude at heart.

Now, if I were to cheat (OMG! I am!) I would have also mentioned “A Few More Minutes with Monica Vitti” by Anamaria Beligan, whom I find as brilliant as a writer as she is beautiful. And one small Penguin book I have lent a long time ago. It never made it back and I am no longer sure about the title, nor the name of the author. Gray somebody?… Well, one book was too little even for me whose reading is no longer what it used to be, sadly.

Anyway. Off to work.

Tags: book time to read, hanging in loose by monsoux
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