So I have been really, REALLY symptomatic with the PTSD lately- it's why I haven't been blogging and why I am mostly sharing stuff on FB and not posting much personal stuff. (If I did, I would rant rant rant a lot, and write LONG spammy entries, or rant about weird things that are bugging me... it would be awkward and weird.)
But when you're REALLY symptomatic with PTSD, there's only two things to do- be weird and just get through it... or take moar drugs and in a way... be weirder, but a hell of a lot funnier.
The other day, I honestly couldn't sleep- for two days. No shit. ...so DRUGS. Yes. Some Drugs make that better.
The funny thing is, it's the same stuff they put in Nyquil, so it makes you LOOOOOPY. (and have VERY vivid dreams, which I already do, so.. LOL)
Here- have a PEEK into my brain:
So in the dream, I was at some Lady Gaga thing, and I was in the gathering area (like a convention space) when she shows up on the railing above, with her staff, to choose some of us weirdos to come be in her stage thing...
I was dressed a litte more odd than usual, because I had just bought a loose shirt with stitching and slight ruffles on the front and piratey cuffs with a little ruffling and stiching... nothing TOO fancy, but just good enough it hid the fact that I had /come/ in my usual workshirt (I never have cool clothes unless I am doing a convention or festival!) ...so as she's picking people, I am suddenly really GLAD I bought the shirt, because Dooood. I respect her- and I didn't wanna look stupid.
Well, she points my way, and I look back and there's this cool dude with a steampunky vest and wicked chops, and so I grin and step aside and make a grand 'go on through' gesture to him, pleased he was gunna be on stage...
But she gets this HUGE scowl, and a kind of chastizing look, and point-point-points at ME. (NO, silly... YOU. I am looking right at YOU!)
So I am thinking, uh oh. I am way not that cool... but maybe she's got the gay-dar or someone knows I am TG and told her, or... something. Okay, cool. No one would wanna see me dance, but it's just for a quickie thing, right? I can follow instructions. I'll go.
To make a long dream short (too late), I end up with the others she picked up in the studio, getting done up with enough makeup we look decent under the lights and on camera. Most of the time, I spend WORRYING that my pants will fall down. (to be fair, I have lost a lot of weight, and that happens a LOT in real life. I wear suspenders when I go out somewhere nice, so...)
At one point, I finally confess this to the stage gal, and she eeps, and giggles, and teases me about how I should have SAID something- she will go get me a pair of suspenders, and all will be well!
She vrooms off, and I am left with the other stage gal, teasing about it- when Lady Gaga shows up again, in a different outfit (because LADY GAGA) and I am all blushing.
She asks about what the joking is, and I confess- I don't wanna lose my pants on the stage floor, no one wants to see that!!
She gets a little stern, and one of the dancers ELBOWS me, and says "Bitch- you whined you got girl hips, and you can't even keep your PANTS on that ass! I'm gunna reach out and SLAP you." ...I am blushing but laughing, and Lady Gaga makes some joke about pants falling down and that being about par for the course...
...and I note, "I can't! I'm wearing boxers with Andy Warhol COWS on them!!"
(Okay, to be fair, I own those, and was wearing them to BED.)
She makes a grin and a mock-shocked look, and grabs my belt loop, to turn be around, saying, "I wanna see!!"
I obligingly pull them up a bit, and show her my yellow and red and blue Andy Warhol COW boxers...
She Squeals, "I HAVE TO HAVE THOSE!!! Where did you find them!!!"
I GRIN wickedly, and note, "So when I get home, I get to tell my husband Lady Gaga wantes MY panties?"
She has a HUGE laugh, there is some good natured slapping-batting-swatting, and then she gives me this big ass LECTURE about how I look GOOD, and fuck how I keep saying I don't, she wants me up there!
Further, she is shocked and amazed when I admit I am TG. (AKWAYS an ego boost when that happens in real life, too!)
So by the time I wake up from this dream, all I can do is GIGGLE about the boxer/panties thing.
Lady Gaga wanted MY underwear. LOL. I would never shut up about that. That would be an In-Joke till I was DEAD.
Of course, the WIERD thing, was a few days later there was an announcement for her next concert, that she wanted some fans to buy tickets to BE in the warm-up/dress rehersal thing, if they bought special tickets... and in the picture (which was probably taken months ago, so you know) she was wearing one of the outfits in my dream. Extra LOLS... was I pre-cogging the Ad itself?
...or is the old folk belief true, and somewhere Lady Gaga woke up from a wierd dream in which some fat TG guy had Andy Warhol COW BOXERS and can she even get those?
By the way, she can buy them here: http://www.ebay.com/itm/NWT-Men-s-Boxers-Andy-Warhol-Cows-Sz-M-/271344307142
Because DUDE. I have worn mine, and... No.