Butting In

Dream update - not only are a small percentage of my dreams being narrated but they are going to great lengths to construct sight gags. 

Last night/ early this morning there was a scenario, or scene if you will, since this dream's basic construction was like a stage play, where a couple were lounging on a couch. But then there were a series of quick cuts and in each new shot they'd changed positions - more slouched, more legs akimbo, more and more chaos of legs and arms and crumpled cushions, until the next to final shot had the female stand up and leave what I thought were her legs behind. 

BUT NO! The couch was covered with mannequin parts, mostly legs and butts. Higher percentage of butts. All this draped over the slouched sleeping medieval costumed man (forgot that part.)

THEN, the narration pipes in "NO MORE BUTS."

My unconscious went to a lot of trouble for that joke. 

Rude Awakening

 Scene - My Bedroom 8:34 a.m.

Me - Stirs awake by the odd and confusing noise of someone rapping on the front door.

More furious knocking.

Me - WTF? Why? What?

Me - Gets out of warm bed, puts on glasses and slippers and trudges to the door.

Me - As supposed human knocks numerous times again, I peep through my peep hole.

Me - In my all caps voice "WHO ARE YOU?!"

Who Are You - Laughs and knocks again.

Me - Again, In Bold All Caps "WHO ARE YOU?!"

WAU - Laughs again, thinks it's a joke. Thinks he's funny. "I'm Charles (inferred duh.)"

Me - Still All Bold All Caps Voice "WHAT DO YOU WANT?!" 

WAU - Tiniest bit of confusion dances across his face, "Is Olivia here?" Hurriedly messes with phone.

Me - "YOU HAVE THE WRONG APARTMENT AND NEED TO GO AWAY!!!!"

WAU - Trips backwards and never says another word.

Me - Gets back into warm bed. 8:38 a.m.

End Scene.

Just Right

 Me whining to my Mom about my weight and I say the dreaded word Fat.

Mom - You're not fat.

Me - I'm not thin.

Mom - You're just right.

Me - So I'm porridge.

Mom - (laughing) No. 

Me - I'm Baby Bear.

Mom - (laughs more) NO! (then sweetly and profoundly says the thing she thinks will solve all the things) You're Goldilocks. 

Me - I'm an entitled white girl that breaks into people's homes and takes other people's stuff and eats their food.

We both laugh. Hard.

Finally...

Mom - You like things how you like them.

Mom - And you're not fat.

This is why we have Moms.

A Word

Last evening while watching the Sundance film "Fire of Love" there was a line that has now been swimming in my brain ever since; "Love's other word is Understanding."

Love's other word is Understanding.

I'm actually delaying watching another Sundance film so that I can write this.  Maybe give my brain some space to let inside other ideas? But to me this is huge. Because, you know that space. That complete release and peace when you allow yourself to understand. It could be with a human, a concept, a trauma, a moment, even a bunny.

Love's other word is Understanding.

I understand that.

 

 

Have A Slice

In 2008, I was anxiously and nervously driving my very very very sick bunny to his vet. I was talking to him the entire way. Making bargains, and promises. The magical thinking that comes with that fear of losing your loved one. Yes, he was my loved one. As we drove past Clearfield, from the freeway I spied a classic favorite pizza place, The Circle Inn. In my magical thinking mode I made The Bun a promise: when he got better, we'd order a Circle Inn pizza to celebrate. 

He never came home. I never went to The Circle Inn again.

The Circle Inn burned down to the ground last night. It's just gone. 

I think I'll have pizza for dinner tonight, just to celebrate being alive.

When You Care Enough To Not

 I have never watched one of those Hallmark Channel Christmas movies. Because I refuse. I do study and judge them by their trailers and posters though. And I mean judge. It seems to me that a huge percentage are a weak sauce attempt to remake "Baby Boom" but instead of a baby it's a dog/and or a whole kaboodle. 

Then there's the magical side to them: getting sent back in time or Fairy Godmothers and Santa and Aliens. It should be Aliens. I don't even know. I think Aliens could help.

And another thing, why always the long lost love? The "Christmas is now complete" trope.  Why does this Holiday need to be pressure cooked by unrealistic romantic idealizations? Ugh. Just ugh infinity. 

Give me a sad little tree that flourishes under the love from children any day over this sour sad tripe. 

True, Die Hard has a love story at it's core. It also blows up a building and drops the bad guy from it. I call that even. 

I'm off to watch all the Rankin & Bass Christmas Specials where NO ONE moves to Connecticut to be a Nanny for the talking dog of Santa's Fairy Godmother that leads the white girl main character through a magic portal to where she ends up helping a baker that's about to lose their shop that's going to be foreclosed on Christmas Eve if they don't sell one hundred thousand million cookies to an abandoned town of people that hate Christmas because of that mysterious thing that happened that no one talks about at the cookie factory but the talking dog sniffs out the ONE person that can save them all that's now homeless and they're the lost love of the baker and COOKIES FIX EVERYTHING and now they live over the shop and the town is now called Cookie Town and the talking dog and the white girl go back to the Fairy Godmother and ask for a wish and the girl wishes that she was never in this movie. 

The End.