It rained all Friday night which makes Saturday morning slow, chilly and sleepy — a well deserved treat for everyone who have been working their back the entire week. Everything seems to be still; there is hardly a sound, except for the quiet trickling of the rain. However, me, the dog mom, had to feed her chaos-loving spitz before he claws on the door with his sharp nails. I’m up and alive. Why, it’s the last Saturday of the month, and I wouldn’t miss slipping my Week in Tweets post before everything else.

Last night, I was mulling over getting a balayage before blacking out, which is a nice thing to do this February, hopefully before the 14th, so the colors will cheer up my countenance when I’m among the mocked singles who don’t have a date, or a potential lovelife, even. Oh, my mom is probably reading this. Hi, mom. I’m getting a new hair color.

Onto the tweets?


That’s what you do.

I had a surge of strange dreams this week, which is probably caused by the fact that I’m conscious about listing them down. Here is one of them:


Let’s start the Tuesday with another strange dream:

I received a rejection letter from a query I sent back in October. BUT! BUT! BUT! This person isn’t willing to go down the negative tide. Work keeps the mind busy. Work fuels the heart’s creativity. So I gave myself more work to do.

My hands were uptight with my money, especially that I made a stupid spending over the weekend, and all I had was my insurance payment WHICH I didn’t want to touch. But I remembered my mother telling a story about my brother, who despite not having any work back then, he managed to offer his tithes, still in an impressive amount. And I remembered life is all about celebration, and to celebrate means to provide things necessary. I gave in and let go of two gran, an amount I can pay back once my money comes in, and shopped groceries for the home and me.


This doesn’t need more explaining, I think?

Oh, and another strange dream!



The cheapskate me, trying to survive.


4 am thoughts:

Also, it’s my first time to watch Serendipity, which isn’t as romantic as I thought even though Kate Beckinsale was an eternal beauty.

And let’s not forget the strange dream I had just this morning.

I need to mention that Dara was in that dream (!!!) and she was my special guest (!!!) and we were close (!!!) and that the kids of NV9 did not know her. I’m guessing the reason behind this: we’re the same age. Just this Thursday, I wrote something about the common dreams that we have. Dreaming about celebrities, from what I’ve gathered, indicates a need for acknowledgment. I’m loved beyond my true worth, but I think the yearning comes from being noticed for what I do: writing.

And so, with a couple of rejections, a handful of brave poetry submissions, a website overhaul, two client jobs finished and one little camera working to take portraits, my week ends. Here’s to many dreams, to many doings, to many out-of-the-comfort-zone decisions made in the past six days, and here’s another, to make more of those. x