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i had all my teeth and i wasn't even naked

there are dreams that we all have at one time or another. the one about our teeth falling out. being back at school. being at a former job. trying to cry out but being unable. [on a side note, is there a common dream that people actually enjoy having? or are we all fairly particular in our joys, but united in our anxieties?]

i've had all those dreams. multiple times. with multiple different situations. and last night, i had a classic one. i was in university and i had to take an exam or do some sort of end of term project [it seemed to change which] and i'd barely been in class all term. i mean i'd been in class so little that i was concerned i'd fail the course based on that alone. and it's a university level mathematics class, which means i have no business being in it to begin with.

now, the beginning of this dream has been a frequently recurring thing, especially in the last couple of years. i show up to a class i either haven't bothered with or forgot i'd enrolled in, find out there's a huge exam and proceed to watch my life unravel in front of me. but last night, i guess my brain got bored, because it decided to change the script in the middle.

instead of everything falling apart, this time, i aced the exam. i mean i really killed it. i did so well that my professor had to begrudgingly admit that i was probably some kind of genius savant, although he was clearly annoyed because i hadn't bothered to come to his class. even i didn't know how i did it, because i was close enough to myself in the dream to know that advanced mathematics wasn't something i was routinely good at. except that i actually was, as long as i wasn't really thinking about it.

it's nice to know that my brain is so bent on avoiding cliches that it wants to twist the ending of this dream, which has been the same for everyone ever in history, because it just found it too predictable. but what totally mystifies me is that it chose to do this in a dream specifically about math, whereas in every other test-flunking night terror i've had, i've been taking a course in english or history or philosophy or something else that i actually took courses in.

i know that the going theory is that test-failing dreams are about waking-life anxiety, but i can't find any information on test-succeeding dreams, especially in a field in which the dreamer has no expertise. what is my brain trying to tell me? that i missed my calling? that i have secret superpowers? that i've wasted my life on words?

because let me tell you, getting an a+ with no effort felt like being tossed into a room filled with fine wine, all my favourite foods and attention-seeking kittens. i want to know the secret message so that i don't have to be asleep to feel that way.


as long as you're here, why not read more?

making faces :: soft touch

ah winter, how my lips hate you. it's too bad, really, because the rest of me likes winter, down to about -12 or so. but there's no arguing that i get dried out. nuxe rĂªve de miel is my super best friend at this time of year, even more so than otherwise. [i gave bite's agave lip mask a try only to find out i'm allergic to something in it.] but our [still] new apartment is somewhat drier than the old one [electric vs hot water heating], which meant that, for a long stretch, virtually every kind of lipstick was uncomfortable. the horror. [i wrote a post a while back about the formulas that are friendliest to chapped lips.]

faced with this dilemma, i decided to try something not exactly new, but [for me], out of the ordinary: being a gloss girl. now, i don't mind glosses. i buy them from time to time, and i used to buy more until i discovered that i just wasn't using them near enough to justify the continued purchases. my issues with glosses are that they feather…


i keep seeing this ad for tictac candies:

am i the only one who finds the suicide bomber clown at the end a little unnerving? all the nice natural things like the bunny and the [extinct] woolly mammoth and the fruit get devoured by a trying-to-appear-nonthreatening-but-obviously-psychotic clown who then blows himself up. congratulations, tictac, i think this ad has landed you on about a dozen watch lists.

oh and by the way, showing me that your product will somehow cause my stomach to explode in a rainbow of wtf makes me believe that doing consuming tictacs would be a worse dietary decision than the time i ate two raw eggs and a half a bottle of hot sauce on a dare.

making faces :: a lip for all seasons [summer edition]

this may seem like an odd time to think about summer, but not to think about coolness. it can be hard to wrap your head around the idea that summer is considered "cool" in colour analysis terms and, in my opinion, reads as the coolest of the cool, because everything in it is touched with the same chilly grey. winter may have the coldest colours, but its palette is so vivid that it distracts the eye. everything in summer is fresh and misty, like the morning sky before the sun breaks through. in my original post on the season, i compared it to monet's paintings of waterlilies at his garden in giverny and, if i do say so, i think that's an apt characterisation.

finding lip colours touched with summer grey and blue is, as you might expect, kind of tricky. the cosmetic world seems obsessed with bringing warmth, which doesn't recognise that some complexions don't support it well. [also, different complexions support different kinds of warmth, but that's another…