Monday, May 31, 2010

A little too clear


My beau and I went camping this weekend and it was wonderful. Nature makes me feel whole. It makes me feel strong. It makes me feel like a little kid that can conquer the world. It also makes me feel like my brain takes a vacay onto a distant planet whenever I fall asleep because I have the most unusually vivid dreams. Even more vivid than normal. Some are good, some are not so good. Case in point. (Is that actually the saying?)

I dreamt one of my friends and his boyfriend were going to have a baby. And that they had conceived it. T told me the good news and we had a very casual conversation about how he was pregnant and how he was going to give birth out of his asshole. He wasn't worried about the pain, but hoped he didn't have an orgasm while giving birth. We shared a laugh and I said I was sure he'd be fine.

The final countdown came and he went into labour. For the first time I thought to myself, how odd. My two male friends are having a baby. I guess there won't be any breast feeding. I wonder what their parents will think. Oh, how the world has changed! Anyhow, he gave birth and then left the hospital. The weird catch was that because he was a man, he had to leave and couldn't see his baby for two days. (At this point he disappeared for awhile.)

So, I went to their house and met V who had just picked up his new baby girl... in a shoebox. I questioned why she was in a shoebox, but much like the pregnancy in the first place, it just wasn't a big deal. I realized I was in a great position because I'd be able to be the female influence on their baby, then I remembered V had a dog and asked if I could have it since they probably didn't want to get fur all over the baby.

At this point I blinked and the day changed or there was one of those weird dream transitions and T came home. (To be exact, we were standing in an alley on a steep hill next to a wooden fence that sat atop a cement retaining wall. The sun was setting. It actually reminds me of a place I went when I was in Spain in 1999. Sometimes I think I've done a ton of acid because I have flashbacks of the most random places, but having never done acid, it must just be my brain partying. I digress.) T came home and suddenly the baby was gone. I asked where she was, and him and V laughed and laughed at me. T couldn't believe how gullible I was. There was no pregnancy! There was no baby! They were just playing a practical joke and I fell for it! Pfft, colour me red.

I woke up and felt kind of dirty. (There was a lot more to the dream by the way; including Brad's old assistant being pregnant and having turned into a white african princess, Justin Timberlake, like, five other babies, my dad's house, my cousin, sister, mom, dad's ex girlfriend, blah blah blah. As is my style, the dream was pretty epic.) Back to me feeling dirty. So I told Brad about it and had a hard time telling him all the details because, well, it meant that some part of me was thinking about my friend's asshole. And another part of me was obsessed with babies. To be honest, I don't know which part makes me feel dirtier.

On a lighter note, here's a picture of my new favourite camping accessory. A $7 fur coat I found at a garage sale in Idyllwild, California.




Tuesday, May 25, 2010

Dr. Mario

She walks into the tiny waiting room. In the 8' x 7' x 10' room, there are two doors, two chairs, and no receptionist. She tries to open the second door and finds it locked. She presses an intricate doorbell, and after hearing nothing, presses it again. Unsure if she's even at the right location, she shrugs to herself, sits down, and waits.

And waits.

She wakes up to the sound of a telephone ringing. She wipes the drool from her chin and notices, for the first time, a small cupboard carved into the wall, next to the second door. She opens the cupboard and picks up the phone.

She - Hello?
LW - The doctor will see you now. (click)

She hangs up. She tries the second door and this time, finds it unlocked.

She's stunned by the massive room she walks into. The massive empty room. She looks around her. Nothing except fours walls with a calming mauve paint.

LW - It's rude to keep the doctor waiting. He's a very busy man, as I'm sure you can tell by the waiting room.

Where did the voice come from?

LW - Keep walking. What kind of person enters a room and doesn't move beyond the door?

Good point. She walks towards the voice. At the very end of the massive room, she sees a large, beautifully made up woman sitting behind a desk. To one side of the woman is an examination table. To the other, a plant. She sits in the chair directly in front of the woman's desk.

LW - May I have your form?

Blank stare.

LW - You didn't fill out the form? (groan) Very well. Please fill it out now. But be fast about it. The doctor's a very busy man.

She stares at the form the woman hands her. Or better yet, the book. There are over 100 pages. Each page has over 25 questions.

She - I should fill out this whole thing?

LW - Do you expect us to guess?

She begins by writing her name... Over an hour later and after the large woman has eaten two peanut butter and jam sandwiches, she hands the book back. The large woman flips through the pages, scanning each one.

LW - Very good. The doctor will see you now.

She watches in horror as the large woman gets up from her desk, and shreds the book she's just filled out. Before she can object, a cough BOOMS throughout the room. She looks around her, but doesn't see anyone else. The large woman sits down again and groans her exasperation.

LW - Are you always this rude?

She - Excuse me?

LW - The doctor. You're keeping him waiting!

Dr - No need to be impolite, LW. You haven't told the poor girl where I am.

Again, the voice BOOMS throughout the room, but after swiveling in her chair, she sees there's no one else in vast space.

LW - Oh! Of course! And here I thought she was just a rude little beast of a girl.

More confused than ever, she looks back at the large woman, whose face has softened and is now pointing to an ornate stand alone magnifying glass sitting on her desk. She hesitates only as long as the large woman's impatience allows, then looks through the glass.

Astonished, she sees a teeny tiny area rug, holding a teeny tiny desk, and a teeny tiny chair holding a teeny tiny man.

Dr - Hello dear.

Again she flinches and looks around the room, trying to figure out his voice.

Dr - (laughing) I'm afraid without the microphone and sound system, I'd sound like nothing more than a high pitch annoyance. So tell me, LW, how can we help this young lady today?

LW - Well Dr, she's concerned with the fact that she's an emotional robot stuck in the body of an oversized elephant. She's noticing that the relationships around her seem to be going the way of the dodo bird and she'd like to know why. Better yet, she'd like to know why she doesn't care. She also wants to know what it feels like to feel. And she wants to know what's it's like to think of people other than herself. She puts on a very good front and for the most part has people convinced she's a genuinely caring person, but she's finding it harder and harder to keep the act up. All she thinks about is food and how unattractive and (cough) fat she is. She read your ad in the Post and would like you to help her flip the switch.

She looks at the large woman in utter shock.

LW - What? You didn't think I'd make you fill out that stack then shred all the information, did you? I assure you, I'm not interested in wasting anyone's time. (under her breath) Unlike some people...

Dr - Oh, LW, lighten up! Now dear, I have no problem helping you, but before I do, I want you to understand that once the switch is flipped, there's no going back. Are you 100% about having this procedure done?

She - Um, I think so.

LW - Are you trying to make a mockery of this very busy man!? Does "um, I think so" sound 100% sure to you? Because it certainly doesn't sound 100% sure to me. Maybe you should leave and come back in months when --

She - NO NO! I'm sure! Please don't make me wait 6 months. I'm desperate! I need help and you're my last line of defense. I'm worried that if the switch isn't flipped soon I'll wither away and die.

LW - (sigh) A little dramatic, no?

Dr - You say dramatic, I say passionate, LW. Our girl is 100%! Hold all my calls and prep the room for surgery. We have a switch to flip!







Sunday, May 9, 2010

Thug life say whaa!?

I was delivering flowers all weekend and ended up in Compton today. As I was standing there in my birkenstocks filling my car with gas, a sleek black machine (car, not man) with no front bumper pulled up next to me. Blaring none other than, California Love, by my man Tupac.

Perfect.