I just geeked out by making a mix cd for the Fisher King. Mix tape sounds so much better, but then I remember tapes and how much went into making a good mix tape. There was no drag, drop and burn. More like a bunch of curse words, mixed with forward, reverse, pause, flip tape, get more tapes…
Anyway, I had fun putting together the play list insert and cd design. I always get a little manic when I’m being crafty. Sewing, photoshop, paper- manic. I guess it’s those creative juices bubbling over.
I don’t know why I go over the top and out of my way for guys that I’m not even dating. For all I know, once again, this will not work out. Six hours away, he’s too busy, I’m taking classes and broke. We lived together for about six weeks about ten years ago. Have a lost my mind? I’m talking about a guy that I lived with ten years ago for a whopping six weeks, not even two months. Go ahead, shake your head, it’s ok.
But here’s the rub- My id keeps putting him in my dreams. Yes, I know dreams are a lot of times a bundle of gobbledy-goop that has no real meaning. For me dreams seem to be a mixture of stuff that went into the noggin during the day plus memories and some fears and desires mixed in for good measure. However, there are two people outside of my immediate family that are reoccurring figures- Fisher and a cousin.
In my dreams both Fisher and the cousin are destinations that I’m trying to reach. Only they can save me or with the Fisher sometimes I must save him. More often than not the cousin is salvation, a person to protect me and the Fisher, a victim that I must save. You see, Fisher isn’t happy. Happy on the outside, picture of vaudevillian health to all around him, but brooding inside. Makes me wonder if all comedic actors are that way- tortured.
The cousin- let me explain. In my formative years I spent a great deal of time on my uncle's (by marriage) farm. My uncle has five sons, my cousins. The youngest, five years older than me, was my nemesis, but also kinda my hero. I was a tomboy and he was able to do all the stuff that I wanted to do. He once took me for a ride on his dirt bike- highlight of my childhood. We played doctor where the object wasn’t sexual exploration, but testing reflexes and inflicting pain.
Up until my grandmother’s funeral a year ago this past December, I hadn’t seen him in 28 years or so. However, when my dad’s mom died in Feb of 2007 I started to dream about him, consistently. So here’s this person that I haven’t seen in ages and he’s become a central figure in my dreams. And I knew that the next time I would see him would be at my mom’s mom’s funeral and to boot- it would be the last time I would see him.
And I did see him at my grandmother’s funeral in Dec ’10. He had changed quite a bit and I wouldn’t have recognized him if he hadn’t been pointed out to me. Growing up he was very cute, I was infatuated with him. As a grown adult he has lost most of his hair and the boy-ish good looks. I gave him a hug and that was it. No life changing moment by seeing him again, seeing him for what I know to be the last time.
And I still dream about him. He’s older, but with his boyish good looks. The dreams aren’t terribly sexual, but I guess he would be described as a romantic figure in my dreams. Side note- my mom thought that something had occurred between me and my cousin- nope. I hope she believed me when I said that it hadn’t. Yes, she asked me. I went through I really tough time when I was in middle school, bad case of agoraphobia. Not getting into that now. However, my mom has her own demons, that aren’t under control and she likes to form her own reality.
F*ckin’ Midwest weather patterns are killing me. Allergies mess up sinuses, sinus pressure causes headaches that may or may not be migraines. Regardless of classification, they suck and I’m getting them almost every other day. I took a muscle relaxer a little bit ago, so soon I’ll get loopy from that. Nice.
I am giddy about Fisher visiting. He’s in one more show the ends next month and then my sister and her husband will be out of town and I’m hoping he’ll visit then. Of course my head could do me in and I’ll see him and not feel a thing. That’s happened twice, his visit to the desert and and four years ago when he came down to see me when I lived by the ocean. Please, for the love that is all holy and sacred, let me look at him and want to jump him. You can pray for me, too, I won’t be offended. Dear Lord, let this anonymous blogger be attracted to her soul mate, let her want to rock his world.
Was that too much info, dear friend who knows about this site?
Dear good friend, who needs a name- my Buddha? Yes, you will be my Buddha.
This is plenty for tonight, gentle readers. 'night.