Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Bill Murray, Where are you?

One of my childhood heroes. Mr.Bill Murray and I have spent a ton of time in bed together the past 4 days. In those four days of sickness, I have discovered you can be sore from laying in bed. I have been so tired. Coughy, sneezy. Cranky. Sad. And, yes, stubborn. I do not really go to the doctor. I may have used "Voodoo Witch Doctor Medicine" as a phrase through the past 4 days also. Well, then B pointed out I work for a doctor. I simply said. " Well, I believe in HER Voodoo." It works. Champ had a hard time with the transition onto a resting pet. The kangaroo dog jumps off the bed, has somehow figured out to grab the trash can from in between the washing machine and dryer..... and pull out any treasure found in said basket. What can I say? My dog is a genius. Just like his mother.

Tiger, you guessed it, has enjoyed laying under the blanket by my feet. Utterly content with staying by my side. Out of laziness? No. Out of guardianship. Tiger, the Sherriff, would not let me down, nor leave me alone.

Ladybird, just wants in. Guess what? Just wants to eat. And howl. And, maybe come inside.

Back to me. See? See? This is how self absorbed I can be. Who knew? I'm continually having a Caddyshack moment. Mama asked me if we could go shootin' for my birthday. I said "Hell yeah." That's my Mama. But it also means she wants to "talk" about something. It's either, sit on the couch, or "Would you like to go to the shooting range?" It's probably a discussion on how my birthday is coming, and how I should prepare for a melt down. Er, possible meltdown. Either way, I believe I am prepared and have done a lot of soul searching over the 4 days in the bed, dreaming of Bill Murray.

BC, he's a dreamboat.

But you were made to rub me first...... I love you too Chevy Chase. Even though, you are clumsy with the baby oil in the bed. I still love you. Call me!

Still lots of dreams lately. Beach house dreams. Scary dreams. I did ask the kidnapper this time, Why? He said, "If I can't have you, no one else can." Point taken. Quite a bit of clarity received from that dream also. Dreams are so telling. If you allow them to tell you the story. Or if you have the patience. I don't want to miss out, and I now know, my patience is being rewarded. Everything is changing, and I am happy for it. Some changes, are hard to swallow and face.

I realized there may be a person trying to prohibit your growth. Don't allow this. Step back, and take account. It's painful. But necessary. And positive!!!!

I have not been receiving good news. With being sick, missing work, missing life. My dreams were also in black and white while I have been sick. It made me kinda shake. I need the color. Oh yeah, in all my dreams, I'm still wearing lingerie. It's my penance. It's a hoot.

Maybe I need to be dressed up like a baby doll on a daily basis. I might love that. I would like to see what you all would put me in. Maybe we can make a paper doll out of me. One would take me as presented. In sweatpants. In a wife beater, with knee socks.

Wrap me up in a perfect bow.

Don't criticize what you don't understand. Bob Dylan

Any man who could say, I'll make you happy. I promise.

But is there a man out there who would sit with me at dusk, run through the woods. Eat a snack with me. Let me cut an apple. Discuss art. Allow me to breathe. Let me wear big fuzzy sweaters and little skinny leggings, and floppy old rain boots. Would they? Sure. He's somewhere.
The great thing is, right now I have a beautiful group of friends who allow me to be this way. RIGHT NOW!!!!! I look at them in awe and wonder how they deal with the facets, of me. How the hell they are not blinded.

Then, I remember the huge black sunglasses I hand out with each friendship. We all look stupid in them, but we surely get a kick out of it.

Movie. Terry had rented The Watchmen for me. Which, I wasn't that into it, I was sick, and cranky, remember? I was disappointed I didn't see this in the theater. CAN I REMIND YOU ABOUT STAR TREK? That movie frickin' saved my life. It was beautiful.

The Watchmen did not disapoint. It was great. A perfect piece of work. And Rorsach's journal? Starts a day after my birthday, and I would have been 6. You all know how weird I am with numbers, and dates, and I am always pulling some phenomenal bullshit. I don't have the time to elaborate, but it all made sense.

And not just in String Theory.

I never forget her, baby. I could make out with String Theory.

If you cant tell, I still don't feel up to speed. But watch out!

I'm putting out fire with gasoline. And having a 3 way conversation with David Bowie.

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