Write Now

"If one advances confidently in the direction of one's dreams, and endeavors to live the life which one has imagined, one will meet with a success unexpected in common hours." -- Henry David Thoreau

I wish I could remember where I heard this -- a man on television said it, and I forced myself to remember SOMETHING about it until I could get to a computer. All I remembered was "common hour." Well, good enough for me for now :)

I decided to write again after a year and three months. Lately so many of my friends have become terrific blog writers (Heidi, Andrew, Meredyth and yes, my brother Jeff as well), I didn't think I was anything but drivel. Fancy layouts, Google Adspace, insightful philosophies and observations. etc. -- I thought to revise mine and maybe try to make money? Get lots of hits? Get known? Meet new people?

Natch.

All I needed was to read that someone else was very purposely using their blog as a journal, for nobody but themselves. Now THAT'S me! I've been trying to "live in the now" (thanks Eckhart Tolle) which means I've got a memory of sieve. So... my blog is here to be my memory.

(Where did I hear that line: "I'll be your memory"... ah, Nick Nolte in "The Prince of Tides.")

<-- (That's his avatar for Yahoo Messenger -- funny, for being someone so goddamn uncomfortable in a tux, he sure likes the way he looks in it, huh? S.O.B.)

Hey there Missy,

Re: the used bookstore: Funny, I can picture being IN that bookstore, but not the name of it -- sorry :( It was in North Hollywood though (I think!).

I'm pretty shitty right now... had to go to dialysis three days in a row because my machine wasn't working... what a pain in the ass. And you're right about it all being a motherfuckin' comedy -- but it's just not funny to me yet, so definitely not write-able. It will be, I'm sure. Someday. Maybe even soon.

Gotta go through these stinkin' stages of grief or something -- and today, boy did I walk into something retarded that just FINALLY made me MOTHERFUCKIN' ANGRY! (I keep typing that and I think "Missy will know whether or not this is a hyphenated word, two words or a compound word -- or if it even motherfuckin' MATTERS! Yikes.)

In any case, thanks for talking me down a tree the other night... now I'm up another one (The "You-Fuckin'-Loser-Asshole-Person-With-A-Goddamn-Fucked-Up-Thinking-With-Your-Penis-Brain" Tree. Ah... now that feels better. :)

Anyway, like I wrote today: When I get all sappy/sad/sucky, I remind myself that "I" was the one who cut and run and there was a reason for it. So THERE! Hello Me.

And now I'm going to sleep and dream my some wicked-ass revenge nightmares.

Have a good weekend :)
Me

Dreaming

I thought I'd be blogging everyday for 30 days here so as not to whine, cry and obsess to my friends on Twitter and Facebook... but it seems I can't really do that here either. I sit in Sacramento w/ my dear friend, and I tell her I can't think of anything else or talk about anything else because I'm so aware of how frickin' BORING it is. She tells me that's why I'm here, and that's why SHE'S here... but still, I'm sure even the bestest of friends can only take so much... hell, even if "Brad" himself were reading this now, he'd be screaming UNCLE right now to stop this boring shit...

No matter how much I try to distract myself or keep my mouth shut though... it all comes out in my dreams. Every time I sleep I've dreamed some heavy-ass story. People say I'm "having a meetin' with all the important players" or "Your subconscious mind/spirit/soul is processing all this in your sleep because the awake you cannot handle it." I know he'd think that was a good thing, because he knew how little good, quality sleep I get... he'd say I was getting good REM sleep in those ZZZZZZZZZzzzzz... but this morning is the FIRST TIME that HE was in it. Funny, I've even dreamt about Brad Jr., but never him.

Only in this dream... he was the Brad I knew in high school. Not today's Brad, who's 6 ft/240 and built like a football player -- but Brad at 15, 5 ft tall/74 pounds. Maybe that's because that's who I really see, the heart of the young Brad to whom I was so special back then... but I digress.

Triangles... this dream was all about triangles. I was going to try out a new therapist, but she ended up being my old therapist in Beverly Hills that I adored. But in the huge waiting room, there were lots of people there to see her... I was there after working out and showering in a co-ed locker room (wow, that's weird) and I found out there was an older woman who was going to see Dr. Therapist because she and her girlfriend were fighting: she wanted to be with ME. Huh?

I was there because I was struggling the triangle between Brad and his soon-to-be ex-wife who still owned his heart... and he was there because of his issue with her... vs. a new, hopeful life without her. Funny it wasn't between ME and HER, it was between HER and HIS NEW LIFE... and I was a part of that.

The waiting room was crazy. Watching it I thought "Is this a frickin' clinic or what -- what happened to her Beverly Hills office?" Young Brad was clinging to me, sitting really close, while the lesbian woman kept trying to talk to me, with her girlfriend in tow. At one point I stood up and told her I wanted to be with HIM, and then he stood up too and grabbed my hand... and we were almost a foot apart in height, and his hand was smaller and delicate, not like the strong, earthy, working man's hands I know and love today. That kind of shocked me... BUT I DIDN'T CARE, and gratefully, neither did he... and he climbed up on a step, got to my height, and kissed me in front of her.

"She's choosing me," he said to her. "So leave her alone."

Then I got called in to the therapy room. Dr. Therapist wasn't quite ready for me... but I didn't care. I had it all figured out already in the past few minutes: I didn't believe in triangles. Period. "Love on a TWO-way street" as the old R&B classic goes, not a lonely (or three-lane) highway!

It felt great to "meet" you tonight, Mr. Brad. I miss you.

Playin' my sleep

Oh gosh, I'm only 10% awake... good riddance on the typing.

Just woke up in my new desk chair having dreamed up a whole summer camp musical type thing... it was written, rehearsed and all performed while I've been sitting here asleep... probably isnpired by Dreamgirls last night...

The Big G.A. was in it (you know, the 4th grade crush boy)... and I was trying to get kids interested in being in it... Lots of dancers/singers... like "Grease" last night too... interviewing people in now... it's a "phenomenon"... wish I could remember...

Diane's Dream

She told me this weekend she had a dream that her daughter called to tell her she and her husband were pregnant -- before her older brother and HIS wife were.

I just told Diane I'd log it here so we could see if that prediction was going to come through... maybe D's psychic! :)

Il Divo and Hero

Boy, do I hate that Mariah Carey song "Hero" -- at least her version of it. Just got a streaming video of the Il Divo boys doing it and again I burst into tears. What is it with me? Boy, these fellows are something else... married, who cares, but when they sing, especially the bass guy... wow.

Their concert is already sold out in LA for June 28... let's see, who can I get to go with me on the 29th? Zowee...

On another note, I'm working on some hard, deep-rooted crap in my life with my good old therapist, Norm. Namely SLEEP... and my lack of a willingness to do the best thing for me. I just turn into a nasty or scared or a combination of both little BRAT.

Last night I was supposed to be in bed by 2am and up by 9am... both times I set for myself, neither of which I did. Ugh. I will say I had a good dream going up and down the elevators in Century City and then meeting G3rry Alt@mero at home to sell real estate... hm... G3rry, why do you come to me in my dreams when I'm stressed? What are you telling me?

I didn't wake up until 12:40. Yuck.

Dream on

I know I'm sleeping well because I'm dreaming up a storm... I'm rested so the mind can take its little "trips."

Night before last I was cooking. Cooking up a storm... there were lots of friends preparing for banquet or buffet in a community center of some sort... I was helping with everyone and seemed to be the expert with all the recipes. Most were "comfort foods" of the people cooking them -- stews, one-pot-wonders, baked/broiled food, etc. And there was enough for an army. We never got around to eating it though...

Last night -- poor G3rry Alt@mero, if I couldn't have him in real life (4th-12th grade), he's there big time in my dreams! I learned how to be invisible and fly and found him and his family. Eventually I taught my family how to be invisible and fly, and taught him too... it was so lovely because we could help people as well as build our own house... flying and being invisible.

I'm going back to bed to see if there's more -- the two above seem heavy-duty (and obvious!). Good night, G3rry.

Kissing Bob Saget

How is it my dreams are THAT much more exciting that my real life?

Getting a powerful environmental message from David Letterman -- about forests, golf courses (?), electronic waste, as well as giving HMOs a chance to do their work... Wacky stuff.

Also, about paying attention to people who have BEEN in earthquakes and floods and all natural disasters because they now real terror... and to love the one you're with.

HAHAHA I'm still laughing at all of this... because in the end I had to learn how to really play golf (not playing at playing golf) so I could be with my Kissing King, Bob Saget. How in the hell did he get into my subconscious? Maybe I shouldn't fall asleep with the radio on.

Whatever it was... it was the best makeout session ever! EVER.

Hollywood Blvd. Boutique

Surrounded by stripper outfits, and all I want is the biggest tiara in the shop... it's Madley as Glinda the Good Witch! What the hell was in those sleeping pills?

[Not to mention I had a NIGHTMARE of a dream -- I got married by proxy in the worst planned wedding EVER and there was no sight of a groom ANYWHERE... not MY ideal vow-swapping ceremony by any means! UGH...I need to learn to sleep right.]

What's YOUR true dream? Got pics?

"Frenetic Escapism"

I HATE that this is the phrase that pegs a 7... because everywhere in my life I see that I do it... even writing here is doing it! SHIT!

Last night I finally got the old electric heater out and slept slept slept... and it was so warm and toasty I barely got up this afternoon... and I dreamt of Tony Bardwell (a guy in high school who was just there, meant nothing to me), which turned into a big dream about G3rry Alt@mero... the big daydream of my life. Yes, those are there real names because I can't find them on the internet and they'll never find me anyway). I say daydream because I think I've only ever spoken to him for an hour and a half all together... but I had a crush on him from 4th grade to 12th grade (with various other fellows in between).

It was the most incredible dream... I actually got proposed to and that's certainly not ever happened in my life OR my dreams.

Yes, I'm going to talk a long walk in the park after that one... G3rry Alt@mero and frenetic escapism...