ho-hum

I think I'm about to give up trying to "help" my best friend. As I believe I've documented before, she's been going through some rather heinous marital strife, and it just continued to escalate during the recent holiday. She sounds so world weary and exhausted when we talk. And, I could be wrong (but I know her pretty well, so I'm guessing I'm right), but I think I detected a bit of bitterness in her voice when we were chatting about the state of things this afternoon. I don't think she thinks I'm meddling ... quite the contrary, considering that she calls me and asks me advice all the time ... but I think she's just getting tired of talking about it. It's my guess that she knows where this whole mess is inevitably heading ... but she's too afraid to face it. There's nothing I can say or do to make it "better" for her ... and I feel like a broken record. So, as of today, I'm done. I won't bring it up again -- washing my hands of it and offering it up to Buddha or Allah or Aphrodite or whomever. For now, anyway. :-)

Had my bi-monthly check-up today, and apart from a tiny little inflammation, my doctor continues to tell me I'm one of his biggest success stories. That makes me feel really good ... and makes dealing with this temporary thing a bit easier. I'm pretty adaptable when it comes to these sorts of things, anyway. I tend to go with the flow ... see what happens ... where the day takes me. All that nonsense. I feel really good lately. I'll keep knocking on wood each time I say that, however.

My roomie just screeched at me to come upstairs and watch a clip from "The Daily Show." Apparently, on Black Friday, there was a stampede at a Wal-Mart store when the doors were opened ... and some poor woman was knocked down so hard that her wig flew off her head. You know it wasn't even an Eva Gabor wig.

I really want to decorate the front of the condo for Christmas. Matt doesn't seem to care one way or the other, but I know Tony really wants to ... and so do I. It doesn't look like we'll be having a tree this year (cue the "Awwwwwwwws") so some festive lights out front and maybe a wreath will do wonders for my mood. I love Christmas. I can be such a kid at this time of year. I can be a big kid most of the time, actually ... but Christmas makes me feel like Ralphie Parker. I don't give a damn if I'll shoot my eye out!

525,600 Minutes...

Saw Rent this afternoon. Hmmmm. Kind of a yawn, sadly. It's destined to go down in history as one of the nobler failures of the transition from stage to screen. The movie isn't awful ... it's just sort of flat. The stage show is full of zip, bang, energy, crackling intensity, and great urgency. The movie just isn't. I've read numerous reviews that call it a directorial misfire ... and I have to agree. Chris Columbus was simply a bad choice. This film should have been directed by someone more gritty and "streetwise." Spike Lee was attached to it for years, and although Spike makes my ass itch, he would have been an infinitely better choice. The performances are all very good -- most notable Jesse L. Martin. He's flat-out fantastic. I knew he could sing, of course, and he's been very good on TV over the years ... but he just sizzles in this movie. Rosario Dawson comports herself nicely -- I've grown to like her a lot lately. She was fun and sassy in Sin City, and her Mimi here is appropriately sweet and tragic. Tracie Thoms is another stand-out. She's a wise Joanne ... and the girl can SING. Her "Take Me or Leave Me" with Idina Menzel (who we all know can sing) is fun and defiant. I liked her a lot. It's too bad the movie as a whole wasn't better. The film does point out the flaws in the script pretty distinctly -- the third act is a rambling mess, with little to grab or keep our interest, and Angel's death plays so much better on stage. But ... "oh well." I enjoyed seeing some of the great songs on the big screen and it was fun to see so much of the original cast intact. A curious misfire.

Over the river and through the woods ...

Thanksgiving was, I think, a resounding success. My very first "on my own" turkey turned out quite well ... even though I spaced it and left the giblets pack inside the tail end. Tony even warned me that I might do it ... and of course, in true Jason fashion, I did. But that faux pas aside, it really was a juicy and flavorful bird. Yay me! :-)

Had a truly lovely time with T, Angela, Cheryl, and Matty. It's always so comforting to be around friends that you adore ... easy, painless, effortless, and sweet. I'm truly lucky to have the great friends that I do. I wish I was able to spend more time with those that live far away, but I'm sure most people have others in their lives that they wish were geographically closer. Ang kepy saying that we were all family -- and she was so right. We really are. One of my favorite things about my life is the family I've forged out of the people that matter to me. I treasure them more than any material possession.

Speaking of family -- I received a lovely email from my niece Ana this morning. She lives in France (she's been in France for at least 7 years), so our correspondence is a bit more limited than I'd like it to be. I haven't seen her in person for maybe 5 years ... but she's always been a special person to me. She's grown into a truly beautiful young woman, inside and out. She was always a strikingly attractive youngster, but she's damn stunning now. There's a bit of American Indian blood in our line via my mother, and it seems to have manifested in Ana. She looks nothing like the rest of us in the family. She's very dark-skinned and exotic ... gorgeous black hair, and legs up to her neck. The rest of us look like Krauts and potato eaters. As white as white can be. She's supposed to be back in the States after the holidays to spend some time with her mother in Missouri. Come hell or high water, I'll be seeing her while she's here. We used to have such fun as kids ... sneaking cigarettes behind the pool house, shopping for hours and hours, laughing about silly teenage stuff, and ogling boys. She was one of the first in the family that knew I was gay ... and she was like "Well, duh, Jason." In fact, the big reveal made us closer ... and she's been my most vocal cheerleader ever since. Her email this morning brightened my day. I can't wait to see her again.

BTW -- It's too cold outside.
Have a lovely day! :-)

Sometimes...

It's been an interesting half week, so far. I'm suffering from a general malaise that is really getting old. I need to snap myself out of it. We're supposed to hit the bar tonight, so perhaps that will help. I am lethargic and just plain "blah." It isn't that I don't feel thankful for the good things in my life ... I do ... it's just a weird, nagging sense of "harumph." It will pass. All weirdness does, with me.

In keeping with the spirit of tomorrow's holiday ... here are some things for which I'm quite thankful:

1. Tony.
2. My Mom seems to be feeling better, and her medicine seems to be helping...
3. I see a light at the end of the financially crazy tunnel we've been in for a couple months...
4. I still tear up at the beauty of a good song...
5. Tony's onstage again! (Well, he will be soon ... go see it, won't you?)
6. I have some pretty rockin' friends. They're more than that, really -- they're my family. So a big "I love you" to Jill, Angela, April, Jessica, Shelly, Philly, Matty, Tony-O, Mike, Bryan, David, and anyone else I might be too stupid to remember.
7. I don't love my job, but the pay is good enough that I'm feeling a bit more comfortable where money is concerned.
8. Reconnecting with friends from yesteryear.
9. My silly kitty.
10. When poetry comes to me in a rush ... that's an amazing thing.

I'm also thankful for morning coffee, pretty snow, diet soda, Aveeno hand lotion, citrus-flavored mouthwash, Uncle Ben's Ready Rice, Jolly Rancher candy, new comic book day, iTunes, fresh fruit, big belly laughs, Margaret Cho, Post-It notes, chamomile tea, Dolby Digital sound, Cleo the Sutherland Place kitty, oversized paper clips, green traffic lights, Patty Griffin, and being able to try new recipes at home.

Some of my siblings are upset that we're not venturing to the happy hamlet of Chesterfield for Thanksgiving, but I couldn't care less. It's not like ANY of them have made the treacherous one hour drive to visit ME in Indianapolis. Not. One. In fact, I don't believe any of my "local" siblings have ever been to one of my residences since I've lived in the Circle City. I've lived here since 1993. Hello! Perhaps it's because I'm the baby of the family, but I'm always expected to be the one to make the trips, the sacrifices, and the time for everyone else in the family. Over it.

Anyway ... rambling mode off. Happy Thanksgiving to everyone.

Three Things ME

I promise to NOT make these thingies a regular part of my blog ... but this came from my friend Shelly, and I thought it was fun.

Three Names you go by
1. Jace
2. Jasper
3. Nilla

Three Parts of Your Heritage
1. Scottish
2. Dutch
3. German

Three Things That Scare You
1. Snakes
2. Conservative Christians
3. Shakira

Three of Your Everyday Essentials
1. Coffee
2. My cell phone
3. My iPod

Three Things You Are Wearing Right Now
1. Khaki cords
2. My glasses
3. My ring

Three of Your Favorite Songs (at the moment)
1. “Hung Up” by Madonna (I am so embarrassed)
2. “Twenty Years and Two Husbands Ago” by Lee Ann Womack
3. “Dare” by Gorillaz

Three Things You Want in a Relationship (other than Real Love)
1. Honesty
2. Trust
3. Respect

Two Truths and a Lie (in any order)
1. I have a secret “crush” on someone I know socially.
2. I recently told a friend I’d support her decision, but I really think she’s making a huge mistake.
3. I tell everyone I’ve quit smoking – but I’m still smoking occasionally.

Three PHYSICAL Things About Other Menzes that Appeal to You
1. Laugh
2. Chest hair
3. Butt

Three of Your Favorite Hobbies
1. Reading
2. Collecting comic books
3. Surfing the Net

Three Things You Want to Do Really Badly Right Now
1. Take a weekend getaway with T and just relax
2. Take a long nap
3. Lose weight

Three Places You Want to Go
1. Greece
2. Australia
3. Great Britain

Three Things You Want to Do Before You Die
1. Take an extended vacation with my girlfriends
2. Publish a novel or two
3. Live in a big, big city

Three Ways You are Stereotypically a Girl/Guy
1. I cry very easily
2. I love to gossip, even though I know I shouldn’t…
3. I fantasize about not having to work

Movie Magic

So we're all a bunch of geeks. Tony, Bryan, and I went to the midnight showing of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire last night. It was fantastic -- a truly stirring, stunning, scary, and well-made film. I feel like the franchise really comes of age with Goblet ... both in terms of the acting (the kids have really settled into their roles nicely) and the story (things move at a brisk pace, and it all seems natural). It's a very fun movie.

Gay bar, gay bar, gay bar, gay bar! Sigh.

So we were at the bar this weekend, and I got all pissy because the DJ showed his lack of creativity or risk-taking chutzpah by playing pretty much the same songs we've been hearing for the last couple months. I know that it's important to play popular music ... drunk ass bitches are comforted by it ... but does it always have to be thump-thump-hook-up-at-the-club crap? I swear, if I hear that damn Pussycat Dolls song one more time, they'll be singing "Dontcha Wish Your Boyfriend Wouldn't Have Gone Psycho?" Hands down, my least favorite song of the year. Ugh. Utter tripe.

Of course, I could be considered something of a music snob ... I like to think my tastes are eclectic ... but that's a fallacy. Sure, I tend to gravitate toward the folky side of things, getting lost in the sounds of Patty Griffin, Bettye Lavette, or David Gray, but that's not all there is to me. I have some guilty pleasures buried in my collection. I groove with Justin Timberlake and Kylie Minogue occasionally, and I'm only slightly embarrassed to admit it. But there's got to be something else. You can't tell me these DJs don't have some gems they're dying to play, but don't, because the queens will get their wigs in a snit if they don't hear Daft Punk or Madonna. It's always dull, soulless dance music. Always. Remixed Jody Watley croons to me damn near every time I'm in that place. And this is supposed to be the leather bar we go to (and if I start in on that ridiculous claim, we'll be here all day)!!

Our friend David always talks about wanting to open an alt-country/folk gay bar. If I had the money, I swear I'd be right there with him, spinning the tunes and drinking my rum and Coke. You can't tell me we're the only ones sick of the shit that gets played and played and played. Instead of boring "amateur" gay porn, we'd show music biopics. Can't you see a gaggle of queens drinking mint juleps and quoting Coal Miner's Daughter? Or Sweet Dreams? (However, I draw the line at made-for-TV crap like Big Dreams and Broken Hearts: The Dottie West Story, Get to The Heart: The Barbara Mandrell Story, and Stand by Your Man.) And our bartender, decked out in requisite western gear, would spin on his Dingo heel and shout "Y'all stop fightin' and listen to me sing!"

Happy Birthday

My mind has wandered a lot, of late, to topics that are a bit more serious than "Who's gonna win this year's Oscar?" or "Why did she wear that outfit in public?" I'm sure part of the reason is the season ... I always get even more introspective than usual when the holidays are impending. I'm not sure why. Maybe it's because that's how my Mom used to always be, and I've adopted her behavior. At any rate ... I've been thinking a lot lately about love. It's one of the most difficult words to define, because, ultimately, its definition means different things to different people. It's been driving me crazy today, and until about ten minutes ago when I checked my email, I wasn't sure why. A bit of backstory, first, though.

My best friend, Jill, has been going through some major turmoil in her life the last few months. She seems to have reached a decision regarding her future (or, rather, her husband reached the decision and Jill, as always, decided to go along with it, not giving her own feelings credence) and that's brought her some tentative peace. I still hear uncertainty in her voice when we chat ... and doubt is a terrible thing when it permeates the fabric of your life. She kept saying "I've only loved one person in my whole life," and that made me take a look at myself and my love affairs.

I think I've truly been "in love" with four men. I've dated many more than that, sure, but only four touched me enough to get my love. That might seem like a lot to some ... but I don't think it is. The first one was ... well, today isn't the day to talk about any of them except the second one. It would be his birthday today, if he were here. For some reason, I thought his birthday was November 25, but I received an email this morning from his partner that reminded me it was indeed the 15th. So ... Stephen, then.

Stephen was ... sigh ... he was a surprise to both of us. We started as friends, wisely, and were both taken in by the other's ways and means. He was my polar opposite in nearly every way ... and I was drawn to him like nobody's business. He just crackled with something ... and it was like mother's milk to me. Our affair was brief and chaotic and passionate and mystifying and frustrating and over way too soon. We kept in touch sporadically -- he'd call me when he was going to be in town and we'd go drinking, or I'd get a rambling email sent at some ungodly hour, or I'd throw caution to the wind and call him just to see what was up in his insane world. The last time I saw him, he promised me he was quitting drugs. He told me nothing was more important to him than getting back to school, making something out of the nothing he'd already made. And I believed him, I really did. Then again, I always believed him. I remember when we were leaving the restaurant that night, we stopped by his rental car and had a smoke. We laughed. I told him I was glad he'd found happiness with his new love, that he deserved it, and that he should run with it. He called me a "stupid git," flicked his cigarette at me, and drove away.

Stephen died last year, a victim of his own excesses. His fiery personality got the better of everything in his life, apparently. I don't think I really realized that I loved him until he passed. I used to think "oh that one, well, he was fun," and leave it at that. Silly me. He stitched himself into the fabric of my being with his typical tenacity, and I wasn't even aware of it until it was too late to thank him for it. Hopefully he's singing with Janis Joplin somewhere. He always talked about Janis.

Busy busy

So there's some crazy high school band competition in town this weekend, and my friend Stew said he heard there are four million kids in downtown Indianapolis. Good GOD. I worked at Downtown Comics today, and was very busy. I LOVE it when it's busy ... not only does it make the shift go faster, there's something invigorating about selling fun comics to fun people. Luckily, I don't get many "un-fun" people in the shop, so that makes me smile. There was a really nice family from Merrillville that ended up spending close to $100 on their son. I was my typical supportive self, giving them the spiel about how reading comics as a kid is what fostered my love of reading. I do my part. hehe

My roommate is in St. Louis being a brazen hussy, and I hope he's having tres fun. I'm kinda jealous, but as much as I say that, I don't know if I'd have the chutzpah to actually *attend* a big bear event like that. Sometimes, I'm way too Catholic for my own good. And I know Tony will agree with me wholeheartedly. Kudos to Matty. I can't wait to hear his stories.

My dear friend Angela wants to host a Thanksgiving dinner for her close friends, and I'm betting it will be fun and festive. I have so many things I want to contribute. I should take a cooking class or two ... I enjoy it tremendously, but don't seem to make it a habit of actually *doing* it very often. Although I have made some pretty fab chicken noodle soup a couple times here lately. I'm going to "expand" and make beef and noodles one night this week. Mmmmmmm.

random

Some things that bother me:

U.S. Government

People who don't wash their hands when they're finished using bathroom facilities

Raisins

The Black Eyed Peas

The general state of radio ... I long for the days of adventurous DJs and unique listens

Voluntary ignorance

Toby Keith

When men sing "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" (It's my favorite Christmas song, and it just doesn't sound right when boys sing it!)

People who have nude pictures of themselves in online profiles, but cap things off with "Not looking to hook up." Umm ... then remove the photo of your ass, 'kay?

Some things I like:

Fall weather

The way you can hear Mama Cass Elliot singing her heart out on the "and no one's gettin' fat except Mama Cass" line in "Creeque Alley"

The drop in George W. Bush's approval rating

Joely Richardson on Nip/Tuck

Patty Griffin

TV series on DVD

Infinite Crisis by DC Comics

That my cat is now sleeping in my roommate's cat's bed at night

Furry menses

Strawberry Pop-Tarts

The fact that I'm starting to like the taste of bananas

"Hung Up" by Madonna

Reese's NutRageous candy bars

That people will read this blog entry and think "Does anyone really care?"

turn that frown upside down

Went to see a little film called Loggerheads yesterday ... part of the local Gay and Lesbian film festival. I'm glad we did our part to support the event ... I always mean to attend these things, but invariably end up not doing so. So a big kudos to Adam for suggesting it (not to mention funding it - hehe). Now, the film. Sigh. It was "okay." There was something sweet about the performances -- including a standout Bonnie Hunt -- but the film was riddled with cliche after cliche. There was an AIDS angle. The men were unfulfilled. There was religious oppression. Homophobia. Posturing and judging. As I said .. "sigh." I wish someone would come along and surprise me ... make a gay-themed film that's actually GOOD. Loggerheads wasn't BAD ... but it wasn't GOOD, either ... if that makes sense.

Of course the argument can be made that cliches are present because they exist and are all around us. I suppose that's true. I know a lot of unfulfilled people, though, and they aren't all gay. I think the biggest reason that happens to someone is they end up placing all their ideas of happiness or fulfillment on one person. All their eggs in one basket, if you will. The older I get the more I realize my happiness is mine to control, and no one else's. It isn't anyone else's job to make me happy. It's mine. And even though I feel like giving my two-week's notice a lot of the time, I'm accepting my job responsibilities. I do think I'm getting better about realizing the power I have over my own mindset. There are years of bad conditioning to get through, but chink by chink, I'm destroying those layers of "I can't." I'm the quintessential "work in progress." I'll get there. I know I will.

Company buttheads and movie chatter

I am SO glad it's Friday. We had a company meeting today, and it was all set to go off without a hitch ... but some bitch had to throw a fit about there not being a vegetarian alternative on the lunch menu, and it put me in a nasty mood. She made a point of announcing to everyone that she doesn't eat meat or animal by-products ... but she had no problem shoveling cookies in her mouth. Now correct me if I'm wrong, but don't cookies contain eggs, butter, blah blah? And aren't those animal by-products? :-) ARGH. It's one thing to express disdain ... I get that, and I've been guilty of doing it myself on a number of occasions. But it's another thing entirely to be a nasty bitch and cause a scene because your very specific individual "needs" aren't met. She is officially on my "I just don't like her" list.

I've been reading some early reviews of Jarhead, the Sam Mendes-directed war flick that opens today. I've been looking forward to seeing it ... but most of the reviews are pretty middle-of-the-road. Critics don't seem to loathe it or love it. There's been some high praise for Jake Gyllenhaal, which makes me smile. He has something of a long face, but I think he's a cutie, anyway. hehe

Other movies I'm anxious to see this fall:
Brokeback Mountain
Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire
Rent
Aeon Flux
Zathura
Walk the Line
Transamerica

Proof

T and I saw John Madden's film version of David Auburn's Pulitzer Prize and Tony Award winning play Proof last night ... and I was mesmerized from start to finish. It isn't often that a film grabs me with such force and doesn't let go until the credits roll, but Proof did just that. I'm not even sure how to begin discussing it, because it affected me on myriad levels. It was cathartic, suffocating, exhilirating, captivating, and an excellent celebration of the brilliant madness of genius.

Gwyneth Paltrow was, to me, a revelation. I've always enjoyed her work ... am a big fan of Shakespeare in Love, Emma, and even Sliding Doors, and she's always been solid, reliable, and steadfast. Here, though, she transforms the stuffy, uptight, and mannered screen persona we're so used to seeing into a schlubby, scattered, unstable American mess. Her Catherine isn't the typical movie heroine who smiles through her sacrifices ... no, this woman is downright pissed off that she's had to sacrifice so much of her life to take care of her ailing father. She's pissed that her life has been put on hold. She's pissed that her father was revered and respected in almost elegaic ways while teaching, but his colleagues and students have all but forgotten him as he desecends into his madness. She's pissed that her sister has escaped the life, only to reappear and try to "make things right" when it's clearly, obviously, and sadly way too late. Catherine is atypical, too, in that she lets herself wallow in depression and uncertainty, allows her grief to cement its grasp around her spirit. Paltrow gives, in my opinion, the performance of her career ... and I can only hope Oscar voters at least remember to nominate her. This is absolutely the kind of role that wins Tonys ... but Oscar (at least lately) tends to like "showier" roles. The quiet desperation of Catherine is likely to get lost in the shuffle. Paltrow -- and this film -- deserves better.

The film's dance around the topic of mental illness was especially powerful for me, because there's a touch of it in my own family. I love movies that make their viewers think and ponder. On the drive home, Tony and I had some very spirited intellectual discussions, and I was so happy that art had, yet again, inspired me to use my brain ... and it had inspired me to look inward and consider my own idiosyncrasies. God I love good film ... good ART. YAY!

A "get started" kinda post

I went through my "electronic journal," trying to find something interesting to snip and post here on my fancy new blog ... and all I could come up with was this. Not that there wasn't other interesting stuff in the ejournal ... just not stuff I'm ready to make public yet. Mostly poetry. I'm a freak about my poetry - ask anyone who knows me. ANYWAY ... this is from September 7, 2005.

So I've managed to catch a head cold. My head feels like it's being squeezed between Britney's now massive thighs, my nose is running, and I keep sneezing. I'm the picture of sexy today, let me tell ya.

I've been having some really weird dreams of late. The other night, I dreamed that my Dad and I were working at a ranch somewhere, and somehow, a horse had died. Dad managed to get its body into a rather large hole ... and then he asked me to cover the hole and BURN the horse's body. I remember frantically searching for enough material to cover the hole, but also incessantly worrying that my friends Jill and Shelly would absolutely freak if they knew what I was doing. I don't think the fire actually happened in the dream ... I remember seeing car lights heading our way, and then Dad making a run for the main house. And naturally, I woke up.

When I fell back to sleep, I began dreaming I was visiting my sister Julie. When I arrived at her house, it took me a very long time to climb the ridiculously huge set of stairs leading to her front door. Her three boys were still children in the dream, and in "real life," they're 27, 25, and 20. Lots of chatter ensued, and I noticed my mother was outside on the balcony, so I ventured outside to join her. She asked me to make her some tea, so I went back inside to do so ... but my sister began chastising me for my "reckless" behavior and "childish" actions. I screamed at her that I was 34 years old and not a child anymore ... not that she was even around when I was a child, seeing as how she was in college and thisclose to being married when I was a tot. She stormed off, and I began brewing lemon tea. And then, of course, I woke up.

NOW -- according to "dreammoods.com," here's a quick breakdown of what all this BS supposedly means.
Dream # 1: "To see a dead horse in your dream, indicates that something in your life that initially offered you strength is now gone. This may refer to a relationship or situation." Hmmmmm. It seems odd that a horse would signify this, but I have a pretty good idea what it might be referring to ... but it's odd that it would manifest itself this way. I keep wondering if the horse connection isn't simply me worrying about Jill. THAT makes more sense to me ... but I'm no expert, as they say."To see your father in your dream, symbolizes authority and protection. It suggests that you need to be more self-reliant."I can buy this, sure.
Dream #2: "To see your sister in your dream, symbolizes some aspect of your relationship with her, whether it one of sibling rivalry, caring, protectiveness, etc. Your sister may draw attention to your family role and sense of belonging. It may also serve to remind you that someone in your waking life has characteristics similar to your sister."
LOVE this. I don't see my sister Julie and I having any sort of rivalry -- we never have. The protectiveness thing makes sense, though, because she's going through some long-term serious shit with her husband. SERIOUS shit. And the last time I saw them both together, he was a total twit. Last week, they came to visit my Mom, and Mom told me he was a bit better, but still a bit of a jerk. I'm sure Julie found a place in my dream because I'm concerned that she's compromising herself for this guy, regardless of the length of their marriage, etc. And I'm sure seeing my nephews as kids again was simply because in my mind, they still are children. I've never really interacted with them as adults. I wasn't able to attend one's wedding last year, and I've been bothered ever since ... it would be wonderful to see the men they've become. To dream that you are walking up a flight of stairs, indicates that you are achieving a higher level of understanding. You are making progress into your spiritual/emotional/material journey. It also represents material and thoughts that are coming to the surface. Intriguing, to say the least. Perhaps because of all the crap Tony and I went through last year, coupled with Jill's current predicament and my recent email chats with other friends who are unhappy with their marriages, I'm struggling to understand Julie's decision to stay with a man who so seriously wronged her. Or maybe I see something of myself and my own unsavory behavior in what her husband did. I love Psych 101 stuff! To dream that you are making or drinking tea, represents satisfaction and contentment in your life. You are taking your time with regards to some relationship or situation. I see this as a very good thing, because I've been very attentive (well, at least via phone) and caring toward my mother recently. She's been having a run of poor health and subsequent problems, and I've made a conscious effort to call a few times a week and just chat with her. So making her tea and drinking it with her in my dream felt very pleasant. So ... who knows? There are times when I think dreams are just the mind's way of burning off excess stimuli. But I've taken enough psychology classes in my time to also believe that they really are a window into the subconscious. I need to invest in a big, fat dream dictionary and stop relying on the Internet. :-) Sorry if this was boring. It was just heavy on my mind this AM.

Finally gone and done it :-)

So I've done it ... I've started a blog. I fear that I'll seldom have anythign interesting to say, but this will be good for me ... if only for the therapeutic nature of it. Writing helps heal my spirit. So I'm gonna write. And, hopefully, you're gonna read. It's a grand experiment!

Random "learning" for a Thursday:
I've learned that I can't move boxes and shit the way I used to ...
I've learned that nothing really truly quenches a deep down body thirst like ice cold water ...
I've learned that there's really no comparison to the healing power of music...
I've learned that Shelly and I truly think so much alike that it's both frightening and comforting (in reference to steering one-handed while sprinkling salt on hot french fries and dank car interior simultaneously)...
I've learned to really enjoy the comfort of falling asleep with Tony near ...
I've learned that Tolliver is a resilient kitty. This is his sixth move, and he's handling it like an old pro ...
I've learned that I really have entirely too many comic books ...
I've learned that Matthew Fox from "Lost" and formerly of "Party of Five" really does turn my crank (I dreamed of him last night ... yum) ...
I've learned that just because someone doesn't love you the same way you love them doesn't mean they don't love you with all they have and in the only way they can ...
I've learned that I miss my girlfriends. Is it time for Greece YET?????
I've learned to find something positive in all the negativity at work ...
I've learned that April is a modestly employed titty lover ...
I've learned that I'm spending too much time Web surfing today ... but I don't care.