I had to drag my sorry ass to work today....I need some backup, man. I'm out of drivers. Anyone want to deliver flowers from time to time? Anyway, I'm the snottiest little girl ever, and working kind of sucked...so I got home this afternoon and got on the couch under a blankey and proceeded to have a series of strangely relevant dreams.
The one I'm most interested in, however, is one I had about my dad. The dead one. (By the way, as an aside, may I digress, etc...I managed to work in jokes about my dead dad in one of my sets this week....very proud to talk about death and not lose the audience.) So, in this dream, I was in a strange house, a friend was housesitting, and we were goofing off, when all of a sudden the house started to fill up with people. Strangers. I found out that it was because the owner of the house had died suddenly, and all these people were here to see his body. I walked past the room where the body was and was struck by how much it looked like my father lying there. Same bed linens, body position. In the dream I started to cry and cry remembering him like that, and went into another room and found him alive and well, healthy and vibrant. He was so concerned about my tears, and I explained that seeing the dead stranger had reminded me so much of when he died. He hugged me so hard and held me while I sobbed and sobbed. I was so relieved that he had managed to come back from being dead, and that he could hold me like that, it made me cry even harder.
It was amazing. In all my other dreams about him we fight, and I haven't dreamed of him in a while, so this was a very different experience. I suppose part of what intrigues me is how relieved I feel at finally having that moment with him. Where he holds me and comforts me. It's all I ever really wanted, you know? So I choose to believe he was visiting me in my dream, and letting me know how much he loves me, and how much he wishes he could comfort me. I wish I could dream about him all the time.
Goddamn, I miss him.
On another note, I am going to try my hardest to get away to the desert in the end of June. I'm going to stay with a dear old friend who promises me hot weather and quiet days. He is a ceramics artist, so spends a lot of his time in the studio, so I can walk and sleep and read and cry and cook meals to my heart's content. My stepmother thinks she may be able to get me a plane ticket with her points, which makes the whole thing that much more realistic. My friend and I are thinking of camping for a few days on the Colorado River, which we did years ago and it was beautiful. I can't decide if I should just go there, or if I should take two weeks and use part of the trip to do some standup in LA. I don't know. It seems like going to LA might taint the rest cure, but, let's face it, I'm not rich and I probably should take advantage of being down there. Any opinions?
Show your love,