Today Kris and I spent just about the whole day working on stuff around the house. Usually when we work together (on weekends), we manage to work only on the front yard, because it's such a huge task. We're still working on it. I'd like to say the neighbors know we're working on the yard, but even Mike said just today, "You're working on your front yard? Good."

Hmph.

Mike was over this morning to move the rest of his compost from our driveway to his yard. When he showed up, I insisted he put on sunscreen. I had a sunburn a few weeks ago on the back of my neck, so I've been insistent with anyone I'm with. Kris got the spritz, too.

As careful as I was with my sunscreen, I didn't quite get all the areas that were sun-exposed. In fact, I missed my lower back.

So, at some insistence on my part, Kris helped me out and we made light of the situation.

Last night, I had a dream that startled me awake with fear and dread. After I woke, I actually had to think, and think hard, if what had happened was true or not. Of course it wasn't, but, oh, if it had been, such misery!

I was in a house I had dreamed about just a few nights ago. It was a fake modern-rustic two story lodge-like house in a well developed subdivision at the base of a mountain. I say base, but it was more like a mile or so away, in the mountain's flood plain. The house was two stories, with the entrance way open to the second story, and windows on the second story (when standing at the loft railing on the second floor looking over the entry way, the windows were straight across, overlooking the roofs of the other houses and the base of the heavily forested mountain).

Te first thing I remember of the dream was heading into the bedroom at the top of the staitrs near the landing/loft, and picking up Liza. Liza was a little older than she is now. We chatted some small talk and I carried her out to the landing.

My dad was out on the landing, and my cousin Laura, a much younger and more playful cousin Laura, was sliding down the banister. Another cousin was at the top of the stairs, though I don't recall which one. I vaguely think it was my cousin Mike, at his current age, but I'm not sure.

Someone in the crowd of family down in the living room (living room merged into the entrance way), asked my dad a question, which he answered. I started correcting him, or answering the question more thoroughly. Out of the corner of my eye (I was looking down into the living room), I saw a six prong, dark black smoke explosion on the mountain.

"Did you see that?" I asked loudly.

Everyone turned to see what I was pointing at, though the angle of view for everyone but the four of us on the landing was poor.

We all heard, however, the distant explosion and saw the black trail of a huge Redwood tree flying toward the house. We watched as it came closer and closeer and closer, until it went over the house and crashed behind it, with another explosion.

I turned to look at my dad, as another crash sounded, and a huge branch dropped through the roof to my right, not ten feet from my dad and me. Afyer looking at the crashed branch, I turned back to my dad and asked, "What is it with this house?" He replied, I think it's in the drain field." After I woke up I realized he probably meant it was in the foothill's flood plain.

Dad said something to me. At this point, as in many dreams, we were magically teleported to another location: we were downstairs, with everyone else.

Suddenly, there was this loud crash, as tons of rock and concrete started dumping through the roof. I jumped up immediately, and started running to the interior of the house, under the stairs up to the loft. I made it 4 maybe 5 steps before remembering what my dad had told me in the previous dream of this place: you have to run towards the falling debris, and climb it as it pours down.

So I did.

Upon realizing the falling rocks would crush the house, I turned back to the rocks and started climbing them. They kept falling, and I kept climbing. Eventually the rocks stopped falling, and I was standing on the top of the pile. The house was completely shredded, and everyone was under the pile.

I woke up realizing everyone was dead. The dread was overwhelming. My entire family was dead, and I had saved myself by climbing the rock piles.

Kris, sick, was sitting on the couch this morning. As I was leaving for work, I kissed him, rubbed his head, and nibbled on his nose in a way he hates.

Me:   "Oh, how I torture you."

Kris: "Yeah, pretty soon I'll have two cones around my head."

Me:   "Ooooooo! Or maybe a yogurt cup?"

Kris: "Yeah. That, too."

Back in L.A. at one of my jobs, a coworker of mine was generally disliked by all of my other coworkers. For the most part, she was a very nice person. Unfortunately, she had one unpleasant trait: she had to one-up everyone. Not just most people, but everyone. And not just most of the time, but all the time. It drove every single person in the office nuts.

So, here's my fear.

That I've become that coworker.

When I'm in a group setting, and someone tells a story, I often find myself saying, "Yeah, yeah, I've had that experience, too! And here's another tidbit!" At what point do I stop commiserating and just shut up and listen?

I almost think I've lost my ability to socialize. Programming isn't exactly a social activity (but, damn, working with Mike and Chris is fun!), but hanging out with friends helps a lot. Playing ultimate helps a lot.

And listening (listening!) helps the most.

Just let me not become that hated coworker.

Time to start the word of the day section here, mostly to improve my own vocabulary, and mostly to understand the words I would normally just skip right over when reading, say, an Economist or other magazine or book.

What?

Skip right over words you don't know?

Who does that?

Back in the fifth grade (way back when I was but a wee lass (heh)), my teacher said something to the effect of, "I don't want you skipping over words you don't know. If you don't know the word, look it up." I'm sure Mrs. Pullins meant it as a way to encourage us to learn new words. Tragically, her words had the exact opposite effect on me. My reaction to her words? Something like,

"What? I can skip over words I don't know? Really?

But I never thought about doing that..."

And from that point on I started skipping over words I didn't know when I was reading. My vocabulary stopped expanding at the 11 year old level. Eh, it might have been at the 12 year old level, as I was in the 6th grade English class, but it was a young person's vocabulary. In later years, I would recognize the folly of the word-skipping as I struggled on the verbal section of the SAT.

Even after college I studied word books to expand my vocabulary. I wrote up flash cards, kept word lists with me, looked up words I didn't know and wrote them in a word journal, did everything I could to make up for those lost years from 11 to 16 when I just skipped right over the words I didn't know.

I feel I still struggle to this day.

Some people have suggested using a word of the day calendar. While I agree they can be useful in expanding one's vocabulary, they don't necessarily help me with the words I'm currently reading. The problem I have is that I don't understand certain words I'm reading right now. Looking them up, then writing them down will help me retain the words (or so claims my dad: "Look 'em up! You'll remember them longer.").

So, as I'm reading my magazine a day I'll keep a list of words I don't know, look them up, and keep my list here.

Then maybe I'll remember them.