#MicDrop

I finally watched the last episode of Hannibal yesterday evening (no real spoilers ahead). I’ve been putting it off because I was afraid to see it end– fearing emotional overload or gore overload or both. the series is not something I would normally watch but I’m glad I had the experience of watching it. I wouldn’t say I enjoyed the program itself exactly, the overall style wasn’t really to my liking, but I did enjoy seeing Richard stretch himself in the acting department. I can truthfully say that I was scared of him several times throughout the story. I’ve tried to resist spoilers as much as my curiosity would let me and I think I did well, all things considered (i.e.Tumblr) but I did see mentions of people raving about the finale, how emotional it was and how it was a fitting ending and how the song enhanced the scene, etc. etc. so I went in with expectations– never good for me–and came out sorely disappointed.

I did really like the scene with Reba and the locking of the door, but this post isn’t a review of the episode or the series, it concerns what happened after…yep, it’s dream time! early on, after only the second episode of Richard’s, I had a Stockholm Syndrome type dream starring Dolarhyde, myself, and his house–I have a bit of a crush on his house.

sweet dreams are made of this

I had yet to really experience Richard’s characterization of Dolarhyde, but the small glimpse I had seen caused me to have a very vivid dream that was equal parts scary and confusing, because of the loyalty I grew to feel towards him. Richard’s voice as Dolarhyde alone, really infused that character with a certain kind of depth that pulled me in like a magnet. and it was that feeling that dominated the dream I had last night as well, only this time it was much scarier and even more confusing. 

hormones+fear=confusion

The beginning of the dream is a bit murky in my memory. it involved Dolarhyde and Hannibal chasing me, with Hannibal nipping at my ankles like a dog and Dolarhyde fending him off. Will was with me and we ducked into what we initially thought was a shopping mall but turned out to be a children’s school. we thought there would be enough people around to afford us some time to catch our breath and formulate some kind of plan. the next thing I knew, Hannibal, myself, and Dolarhyde (though he was more The Dragon at that point) were in a small, underused cafeteria. Dolarhyde was ready to be “changed” and he wanted Hannibal to talk him through it. I was scared shitless, just standing there hoping that I wouldn’t be forced to take part in any way. 

it seems as if Dolarhyde and I had cultivated a friendship at one time, during his struggle with the Dragon but before it had all escalated, and so I was upset that I was going to loose my friend. he was still in there somewhere, existing alongside the Dragon. Dolarhyde started removing the layers of clothing he was wearing. he tossed a sweater at my feet and I picked it up, hugged it to my chest, while giving it a nostalgic sniff. he saw me do this and stopped his movements. 

*whimpers*

I became really scared, not knowing whether I had offended him or not. then he said, in his dark methodical voice, “you may wear the Dragon’s coverings, when you find the need”, like he was giving me permission and bestowing upon me a high honor. he beckoned Hannibal forward then and dismissed me, so I backed out of the room slowly.

shameless house porn disguised as reaction gif

I joined Will at the open doors, where he had been watching. the bell of the school rang, surprising Dolarhyde and unnerving him. Hannibal calmly told him that it was the school bell because we were in a school. then Hannibal started singing “Jesus loves the little children” and it was creepy as hell! Will and I looked at each other in a panic, not wanting the children to see what was about to happen, so we closed the doors to the room and stood guard. most of the kids moved along and didn’t pay us any mind but one boy stopped to look through the windows of the doors and exclaimed how cool the life-size anatomy model looked. as I was shooing him away he asked if he could touch the intestine. I looked at Will, horrified. I had avoided looking in the room myself but Will was watching and told me that Dolarhyde was willingly being disembowel by Hannibal. I stumbled out the doors of the building after that.

I desperately needed to decompress and get my head straight. I was feeling all kinds of conflicting emotions, horror and fear but also sadness and compassion, on top of a begrudging respect for the Dragon. I spotted a bench across the parking lot, located at the side of a maintenance garage, and so I started towards it. I was in a daze and nearly missed being hit by a car that was driving through the parking lot, when I noticed a man walking parallel to me. I weaved my path a bit to see if he would stick with me and he did. I glanced at the man and he was definitely not friendly.

excuse me, can you point me to the nearest Starbucks?

I thought, “and the hits keep coming! I so do not need this right now!” the man scared me, uttering verses from the Book of Revelation about horsemen and angels, but he also made me very angry. I needed to mourn my friend, not deal with whatever brand of insanity this guy had going on! 

I purposefully put on the shirt that Dolarhyde had given me and then stopped walking, the man did too. he blankly stared at me as he pulled a book of matches from his pocket. I looked around and realized the pavement outside of the garage was covered in spilled gasoline and patches of rainbowed oil. as I turned back towards the man, he lit a match and dropped it. oh, it is ON now! I lunged at him and we fell to the ground wrestling. 

gunter glieben glauchen globen

he was smaller in stature so he didn’t automatically overpower me but I was struggling. I finally got the upper hand and pinned him to the ground. this seemed amazing to me because I was not in particularly good shape and I had spent the whole day running from Hannibal. I felt like the shirt was giving me some sort of power, whether it be physical or only mental. 

it was difficult to keep the man subdued though so I screamed out for Will, hoping he was just inside the doors and could hear me. as the fire started to spread, I screamed out a second time, while emotionally trying to keep myself together because my anger had turned back to fear–I was about to lose it and just deconstruct on the spot. as a last ditch effort I called out to Hannibal, not particularly loud and kind of on the end of a sob. suddenly the man stopped struggling underneath me and I felt him lift his head as I had my face pushed into his back. he whispered an awed “fuck”. then I heard Hannibal ask calmly “you called, my dear?” …and then I woke up.

wtf?!

my heart was pounding and I felt like I was drowning in that vulnerable feeling you get after having a nightmare, but then I laughed to myself and thought “and that’s how a finale is done! #micdrop” 

(when you start dreaming in hashtags, maybe it’s time to back away from Twitter)

 

Temper, Temper

Some days I have a temper and very little patience. Most of the time I’m quite mellow and can let things slide off my back with relative ease but sometimes little, seemingly harmless, things find their way in and cause me to have a melt down. This can consist of a simple crying fit but other times it can escalate into gnashing of teeth, colorful words, and the hitting of inanimate objects.

forgotten passwords are the root of all evil

Today the cause was the computer, as it usually is. The computer and I have a love-hate relationship. When things are going well, we’re the best of friends; it brings such joy into my life. but when things are not going well, they go downhill fast.  It doesn’t help that my computer knowledge is very subjective. The mature thing to do would be to wait for my husband to get home and show me what to do, but there’s a big(stubborn) part of me that craves the satisfaction that comes from figuring it out on my own. So I fought with the computer for over an hour, doing the same things over and over again hoping that this time it would work.

 

“Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again but expecting different results”

 

When my son asked, “Mom, did you just growl?” I thought maybe it was time to  relent a bit and at least let him help me. He tried, but he couldn’t get it to work correctly either (is it wrong that I found satisfaction in that fact?) I should have closed it down and left it for later but instead, I took it as a personal affront to me: the computer was out to get me and I wasn’t about to let it win!

tell me the file is invalid ONE. MORE. TIME.

I ended up having a tantrum just a few minutes before Husband arrived home from work. He found me close to tears and so worked up that I couldn’t form words enough to tell him what was wrong, just “THE COMPUTER!” after some deep breaths I was able to communicate to him my dilemma. he clicked around a little, and solved the problem in under five minutes.

oh, COME ON!

I desperately needed to decompress after that, not even being able to reap the benefits of the fixed computer. instead, I slapped on my headphones, hit my Tranquil playlist and tried to calm myself down (that playlist works wonders for me. maybe I should rename it Saving Grace) The whole thing was ridiculous! I find comfort in the fact that I must not be alone in my strife, or there wouldn’t be smileys like this:

Richard has said that he’s stubborn, bad tempered, moody, and once in awhile even has one of those throwing-the-chair-out-the-window moments that usually results in saying hurtful things that he can’t take back. while I doubt he sinks to my low level, it’s comforting to know that he loses it too some days. I wonder if he knows what it feels like to growl until your throat hurts, or how your body can ache after an adrenaline surge?