Wednesday, June 23, 2010

Horses Bred With Star Laced Wings

I've had a lot of strange dreams lately. But the most common of all my dreams are the ones that show what you don't want to see. The ones that keep taking you by the hand and saying, "Dear. You still want this. Dear, you're not done yet."

Last night an old crush and I were talking. In my dream. And according to this dream the part of him being an "old" crush is utterly, wholeheartedly untrue. According to this dream, and my wiser subconscious, he's a current crush, a current love, dare I say. And we were talking.

And it felt so good, after chasing him down in my dreams for weeks, after seeing his image in my dreams for weeks, it felt so good to talk it away; to say my opinion, to hear him say his; to see through his eyes while he saw through mine. It felt so good to make it alright.

Perhaps this was spurred by the book I'm currently reading, Impossible (by Nancy Werlin), and the passage last night where Lucy had to confirm that Zach would stay her friend, that Zach would always be her friend.

Then I dreamed me and this crush were talking, like friends, and we even said that we both wanted to be friends, in spite of how I felt for him in the past (though, of course, my dream made me remember it's a current "feel" not a "felt", little does he know). And it just felt so good.

I love those kind of dreams, though I hate that they make me see the truth of who I am and what I'm dealing with. But I love the dreams that lock me so deeply in dreamland that I want to stay. I want to try to sleep till four in the afternoon with a full bladder because the dream is so...

Is so...

Is so much better.

I once heard someone say that they'd heard dreams were our reality, and, as Jason Mraz puts it, "this life is but a dream." (song: Live High). I told them jokingly back,

"I hope so, because the Dream Me has met Jason Mraz at least six times."

But what I tell myself is,

"I hope so, because things are so much simpler, so much prettier there."

In dreams I can be myself, perhaps that's because I create the world I dream I'm in. I wish I could speak to my subconscious, she's much brighter than I'll ever be.

But it's nice to know she'll keep speaking to me. She'll keep sending me dreams.

Whether I like the message or not.

Wednesday, June 2, 2010

Whenever We Pretend It's Summer

Well folks, it's that time of year again: Summer. It didn't really hit me until today as I sat in Lizz's car and grumbled to myself about the patch of sun burning my right arm into oblivion. And as I drove home from school with my Daphne Willis CD at the questionable volume 12, I found I have hope for this summer. It's almost like the fact that I'm being "rushed" into this summer vacation, due to the fact of bizarre wintertime weather, will somehow allow me to channel the adrenaline that usually accompanies summer breaks into productive somethings. Usually I burn out said adrenaline by the last day of school, and the "dog days" of summer become nothing more than that.

But I have the motivation this year. I pretty much have to. I mean, after all, this is the last summer.

What shall I accomplish on this my final summer of careless freedom? So glad you inquired. Here is my list. My "Bucket List", if you will:

  • wake up at no later than 9:00 am each day (so I actually have some "summer days" instead of just those "summer nights" (kudos if you caught the musical pun))
  • establish a habit of practicing piano and voice lessons nearly everyday
  • read all the books on my bookshelf that haven't been read (I'm thinking of starting with "A Summer to Die". I don't know why. It just somehow seems relevant.)
  • finally write that soon-to-be best selling novel (Cris Wooding published his first book at age 19. I gotta beat him.)
  • get a smokin' tan
  • get a smokin' bod
  • get a smokin' man (hey, that inadvertently rhymed)
  • read the Book of Mormon (We started yesterday as a Young Womens. So far I'm behind.)
  • finish all, if not most, of my Personal Progress (yes, I am indeed a procrastinator)
  • fix that horrible dent en mi coche (translation: fix that horrible dent in my car)
  • compose accompaniment for one of my songs (I secretly want to try Battle of the Bands next year. And when that doesn't work at least I'll have something for Choir Semester Projects.)
  • hit the gym with Erin. Maybe Lexi too (this kinda goes hand in hand with "get a smokin' bod")
  • watch a movie with Lexi every Tuesday night (so far on the list: Muppets in Space, Back to the Future, Oliver and Company...)
  • beat Zombies Vs. Plants (must... hear... tricycle song... *twitch*)
  • figure out who's on my top five Hottest Celebrities (so far on the list: Jason Mraz, the young Michael J. Fox, and that dude that plays Steve in All About Steve)
  • create a computer virus

Okay, that last one's total BS, but I felt I had to end it nicely somehow. And to me, "nice" can only be achieved by a homemade gift. Such as a computer virus.

Well, that is all I have to say here. I wanted to leave you a video of the Daphne Willis hit that has, for the time being, become my Summer Anthem. But, alas, that's the trouble with fresh, unheard artists. Their youtube video base is severely lacking.

Sometimes I forget how lucky I am that there are pathetic fans who video my singer of choice.

Mraz stalkers, Unite!

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I'm a Mormon. I'm a writer. I'm a theatre-enthusiast. I'm an improviser. I'm a cake-decorator. I'm a Jason Mraz fan. I'm a poet. I'm a slob. And I'm happy you're reading.