Category: Dreams


Talking to Myself?

October 14th, 2010 — 4:24pm

There are times I want to talk to you.  Times I wonder how you are.  I want to call, but there is no number to dial.

You’re not there anymore–at least not in the way you used to be.

You are very much here in my thoughts, even in my dreams.  So I talk to you in my head, send words to you up through flames, let free my thoughts to the universe hoping one or two will find you in a warm, gentle breeze.

I wish I knew for sure you got them.

Comments Off on Talking to Myself? | Dreams, ghosts, random thoughts

Dreams, Observations and the Final Clue

March 2nd, 2008 — 6:11pm

Okay kids you have just a few hours left to win one of two HP Photobooks in the Where in the World is Mamma Contest. Get your guesses and rhymes in now. The final clue is at the end of this post.

DREAMS:
I woke up this morning having visited Broadway in my dreams. We never actually made it to the show, but we were contemplating the tickets we were going to purchase. The top show on our list? CHUCK! A musical adaptation of Chuck Norris’ book Little Brother.

You want the drugs I have don’t you?

OBSERVATIONS:
Tonight Larry King will host a number of stars who will be talking about the importance of voting. Now while this is a topic I can get behind 110%, I must wonder who Larry is using as a booking agent. The headling guest? Josh Groban.

What is this Soft Rock the Vote?

Or maybe this is Larry’s sneaky way to throw his support behind Hillary by getting all the middle-aged white women to the polls.

I’m looking forward to Tuesday. As BOSSY would say, I’m pulling for Barak Oboyfriend.

THE FINAL CLUE:

14 comments » | Barak Obama, Contests, Dreams, Politics, Travel, TV

It’s Okay

September 13th, 2007 — 8:24pm

Driving in the car–alone–with the windows down and the radio turned up, it’s easy to pretend that you have no responsibilities, no one to answer to, no one counting on you to protect them and nourish them. For a moment, I am a single woman and I have my whole life ahead of me but with the knowledge I’ve gained over the last decade or so.

And I’m free.

I can feel passion. I can be gorgeous. I can travel the world. I might still be a doctor, or a photographer or a dolphin trainer. I’ll dance under the stars. My clothes will be stylish. There will be fabulous dinner parties and views of the ocean. The births will be natural and the babies will sleep through the night.

I look forward to the life ahead of me.

Then my phone buzzes. A client needs something. Will I pick up milk while I’m out? Back to School night starts in twenty minutes. At that point it’s as if my body stopped short but my heart kept moving forward. It’s pressed up against my ribs aching to keep going. I give it a pat and soothe its racing beat.

Choices have been made.

But what do I tell it, my heart? Why does it yearn to start over again and do it “right” this time? What would it change? What would it be willing to give up? Nothing. Then why does it press its face against the window and dream?

36 comments » | Dreams, The Sounds of Crickets Chirping, Travel

I’d Love to Be a Domestic Goddess–Really

January 1st, 2007 — 7:35pm

Oh I am just so NOT the dominatrix of domesticity. Though if I got to wear cool leather boots it might change my outlook a bit.

While maintaining his virile masculinity, Shakey really is reigning monarch in this area. Though if the truth be told neither of us are going to be scooped up by Martha any time soon. And for the record, there was no false advertising on my part.

The signs of my failure were apparent quite early. My first bedroom contained a walk-in closet which always served as the perfect place to stash whatever was laying around when Mom threatened asked me to clean my room. There were shelves that lined one whole side, so I could just pile everything up on those shelves–until the leaning tower of games tipped out just a little too far and CRASHED to the floor scaring everyone in the house and earning me a glare and a command to march upstairs and pick everything up.

Even then I approached the pile the same way I approach housecleaning today–with panic and trepidation. I never knew how to attack the problem. I couldn’t figure out how I was going to make everything stack perfectly…how I was going to get every piece in its proper box and then get all the lids closed neatly so they could be stacked in even piles. My heart races, I begin to sweat and the panic sets in. Cleaning? Organization? I lovely fantasy yes, but of my own hands?! Not that I’m above it no! I just don’t believe I’m capable of it.

See I have a little problem with perfectionism–which if you met me you’d fall on the floor laughing to imagine since there is not one shred of evidence of it anywhere in my life. But the truth is if I can’t do something perfectly I just don’t want to attempt it at all. I HATE failing!! And I know that even when I try to master all this cleaning, etc. the house still isn’t going to be ready for Architectural Digest so then I feel like well what’s the point. It’s a vicious circle–one I’m attempting to overcome. But I’m not going to go making any New Year’s resolutions about it, because that would just doom the whole project.

What am I always telling the munchkins? Try your best…that’s all I want. Maybe Mamma needs to heed her own advice. But I’m so sure my best could be at least Southern Living [she says tongue planted firmly in cheek].

3 comments » | Dreams

Beautiful Eyes

October 24th, 2006 — 1:31pm

Last night I had a dream that I made out with Hugh Laurie…and he was a GOOOOD kisser. Don’t my dreams know that I have a thing for Patrick Dempsey?

The closest I’m ever going to get to kissing PD will be in my dream (even if he IS on my list–and he is for the record Shakey). Unfortunately, my brain did not cooperate. Stupid brain. Though I guess old Hugh wasn’t a bad understudy.

Comments Off on Beautiful Eyes | Dreams

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