Friday, December 17, 2010

I had a dream last night that I met my current celebrity crush, and it was in the sort of setting where he was able to see me perform. And after the performance, a whole bunch of people were sitting around talking about artsy things, and he kept making a point of coming over to talk to me and standing really close, or if I was sitting, he would crouch down next to me so there was an excuse to put his hand on my knee and at one point, I sort of put my arm around him and started playing with his hair, so scared that it was inappropriate, but so not wanting to let this opportunity (if it was an opportunity) pass. And it was an opportunity.

So of course, my cat had to wake me up. Which is what he does at 4:30 in the morning. He's a cat and I'm a light sleeper. It's bound to happen. Nightly.

I very politely shut my cat out of my room and went back to sleep thinking about what a lovely dream it was I had just had and wouldn't it be nice if I could get back there for just a little bit? Because it had felt so nice to share some sort of physical contact with this person, and I could feel his attraction to me and it was...amazing. And I went back to sleep and got back into the same dream! But this time, I was sitting on a couch next to him in the same room we were previously in and some other dude came over to hit on me, so I inched over toward my crush who asked if I needed rescuing and I replied yes, and he rescued me. And I went to move away after the other dude left, but my crush once again found reasons to place his hand on my knee (in a very non-skeezy way) so I very embarrassed-ly told him that I had just had a dream wherein he was interested in me. In my dream, I told him that I had a dream about him. I don't remember his exact phrasing, but he let me know that it hadn't been a dream and that he was interested and I was so excited but so terrified at the same time. He got a little frustrated with my disbelief in the fact that he could be interested in me - he said he was blown away by my talent (he called it my "Henry V training"), essentially, which was the root of his attraction - so I decided to just go with it. Just accept it.

This was not a sex dream. No sex was had in this dream. It was a connection dream and a trust dream. And in my dream, I made the choice to trust this man's love for me and it was such a...relief.

In my class last night, I got to do my monologue twice. I actually asked to do it a second time because the first time was kind of chopped up and I wanted to try to get in one smooth, start to finish go at it. And in my second go, I could see the teachers out of the corner of my eyes wanting to jump in and do some side coaching, but I think I caught what they were going to say and I did it before they had to comment on it. I think. The second run through felt wonderful - I was hurt and vulnerable, but also strong and confident in my innocence. And when I was done, the male teacher jumped up and ran over to hug me. And pretty much as soon as he put his arms around me, I started sobbing. Uncontrollably. Which I don't do. I don't let people hold me when I cry. I want so badly for someone to hold me when I cry sometimes, but I never think to ask and then I get all embarrassed about the fact that I was crying in the first place and sometimes I'm such a mess when I cry that I'm afraid to let people see that, but in class, I just couldn't help it. I sobbed on this man. And the wonderful, beautiful teachers that they are, they let me. She came over and held me, too. And they told me I did a wonderful job, that I got the "But I love you and two days ago, you loved me" part of the monologue and it had great texture and things. It felt great. And it felt great to be held for a minute while I cried.

Which I think is why I had the dream about meeting my celebrity crush and just deciding to trust him. I survived having that sort of meltdown in front of a room full of people and they still loved me afterward. Perhaps even more because in this setting, to be able to do that is golden. So I had a dream wherein I let myself go there. And it was so lovely. Though admittedly, the combination of the two experiences has me feeling a little sad and lonely this morning.

The funny thing is, I had a dream once before wherein I just trusted in a relationship with a man, and shortly thereafter, I started dating a guy about whom I felt very strongly. He turned out to be a jackass, but still. I kind of have to wonder if this means someone amazing is coming my way and when we meet, I need to remember to stay open to it.

I hope I remember to stay open to it.

(And I secretly hope it turns out to be my celebrity crush, or someone who looks like him and also has an amazing personality, which I think my celebrity crush does, but as I've never actually met him, I don't know for sure.)

Wednesday, December 15, 2010


I need to vent for a minute, and it's really stupid and I know it's really stupid but it's bothering me today, which is also really stupid, and unless I rant about it for a minute, it won't stop bothering me, so here goes.

Eight and a half years ago, I became vegan. It was my choice to become vegan and to be honest, I did it because I realized I was judging an entire segment of the population without even really knowing much about it. So I thought I would give it a whirl for a year and see what happened. Turns out veganism works well for me. I love the food, I love the products. And it wasn't until afterward that this sense of calm at knowing nothing had to die so I can live kind of settled in. I don't dwell on that bit much, though. It's mostly that I like the lifestyle.

Thing is, I know that for a lot of people, veganism is weird. Let's face it, the human body was not designed to digest only plant matter, as is evidenced by our teeth and our inabilty to digest cellulose. I get that. And for a long time, I thought vegans were weird. And let's face it, a lot of them are. There are lots of vegans out there shouting about how cruel KFC is and reminding people that the burger they are eating came from an animal that is considered sacred in parts of the world and showing people videos of bunnies being skinned alive and things like that.

Thing is, I am not that person.

When I was transitioning to veganism, I talked to my mom about it and she felt it was important that we use the proper terminology - it's not that I can't eat something, it's that I choose not to eat certain things. Which I think is a very important distinction. I choose not to eat anything that comes from an animal. I choose not to use products that contain animal ingredients or that were tested on animals. Because to me, veganism is about not subjecting animals to human desires. They would not choose to be food or clothing or shampoo, so why should I ask them to become that when there are perfectly wonderful alternatives available?

But the important thing is that this is my choice. We all have choices in life and this is one of mine. And I know that just because this is my choice, that it doesn't have to be yours, too. I'm fine with that. And in my eight and a half years of being vegan, I think the only time I have made a disparaging comment about someone's non-vegan lifestyle was when I was defending myself against their attack on my vegan lifestyle. I freakin' went to a barbecue joint in Kansas City with my friends for the sake of being social where the only thing I could even consider eating was a pile of soggy French fries. I did not sit there making vomiting noises. I did not tell them they were gross for eating piles of meat. I did ask what the thrill of eating something called "burnt ends" was, because normally people don't like to eat burnt stuff, but I think that was about it. I did complain that the fries were soggy, which they were. And when we left, I went back to my room and ordered a salad. The next day when they went to another barbecue joint, I politely declined the invitation to go along. I could be wrong, but I don't think anyone on either side was offended.

Yet for some reason, there are some people in my life who think it is okay to make fun of me for this choice that I have made. Fortunately not the people who I am closest to (my close friends and family are actually really supportive and are happy to eat the vegan treats I make for them, and for that, I thank them), so I don't run into them that often, but it makes me sad that they are out there. I wonder if these same people make fun of people who keep Kosher. And while I know that everyone has the right to their opinion and they may have a different opinion of soy products than I do, I do have to wonder why they feel the need to share their negative opinions with me. In a pointed fashion. By pointing at what I'm eating and calling it icky or gross or weird. What other purpose could that comment possibly serve beyond trying to make me feel bad about my choice?

Granted, it may not be intentional. They may just be the sort of people who need to share their opinions on everything. Okay. If I let you know that I find your comments offensive, though, will you stop making them in my general direction? You are welcome to keep your opinions - I have heard them and made note. You don't have to tell me again.

It's possible that I'm being overly sensitive, too. With all of the stuff in the news lately about bullying, I have to admit that I do, from time to time, feel like I am bullied about my lifestyle choice. I'm not giving up my Star Wars thermos, though. I like being vegan and will continue to be vegan until I die (or some medical necessity (i.e. pregnancy) requires that I change). And in the meantime, all I ask is that since I don't walk around making disparaging remarks about other people's life choices, that you please extend the same courtesy to me. Please?

Friday, December 10, 2010

I've posted on all of my other blogs today and this one was feeling kind of lonely, so I thought I should put something up here, too.

I would like to start this post by saying I sometimes think there is something wrong with me, but "wrong" usually implies "bad" and I don't know that this thing is necessarily "bad." I think it is probably "different" to a lot of other people I know, but I could also be wrong about that - this isn't something we talk about very much. So I'm just going to say that I feel the need to clarify something that may or may not be odd.

This was inspired, too, by a conversation (or piece of a conversation) I had with my classmates and a famous person last night. I was chatting to one of my classmates and mentioned that there was an actor I liked (though I don't quite remember how we got on him, because we were talking about a lot of actors last night, being actors ourselves and all) and the famous person was shocked that we liked this particular actor because the famous person had gone to school with the actor we like. I don't think his shock at our admiration was any sort of reflection on the actor's talents, but more a, "I know that guy and you're all gooey for him?" kind of a thing. But anyway. The conversation went something like this:

Me: Oh, I love this actor.
Famous Person: Him?
Me: No, Him.
FP: Yeah, Him. I graduated with Him.
Me: You seriously know Him?
FP: Yes.
Me: Would you give Him my number, please?
FP: He bats for the other team.

The thing is this, and this is maybe where I'm different to other people around me, but I don't care. I wasn't doing the "give him my number" bit because I'm hoping for a booty call at some point. This happens to be an actor who I quite enjoy and I think is adorable and I would love the opportunity to either get to work with him, or just tell him that I think he's a groovy actor. That's it. I wasn't even thinking about sex.

See, I get these crushes on people. Artists, mostly. Often times people I've never met. I call them Artist Crushes, to try to differentiate them from Crush Crushes. (Crush Crushes are the ones where you picture yourself spending the rest of your life sharing every moment of your existence with a certain person who makes you feel all tingly in the nether regions.) Artist Crushes are artists I like who I'd love to have a chat with. Seriously. Artists who make me want to be a better artist. Artists who I think would have interesting things to say if we were to sit down and just shoot the shit, so to speak. Not artists who I want to take home for a quick roll in the hay. I don't think that way. I just don't. The two artists I look up to most at the moment are both male and honestly, in my dream scenarios, I would sing a song with one of them and act with the other (or do both with both). I don't know them well enough to know if I would want to take them home. And because of this, it doesn't matter to me one bit if the artist is straight or gay or married or single or whatever. My desire to know/work with a person has nothing to do with anything romantic so sexual preferences and status should not factor in.

I guess it just kind of irked me because it was almost implying that I'm not allowed to talk to said actor, or I wouldn't want to talk to said actor anymore, or said actor wouldn't be interested in talking to me because he likes players with different equipment. Since when does one's sexual preference dictate what kind of friendships or even acquaintanceships he or she can have? But then I had to remember that not everybody thinks like I do and the phone number comment was probably perceived as an invitation.

Anyway. I just wanted to clarify. If I have an Artist Crush (and I have quite a few), I just think the person is a great artist and I'd like to meet them and/or work with them. It's nothing sexual.

Moving on. As I was leaving, I got to hug the famous person and it was a really nice hug. A real hug. Not one of those "Oh, I'll see you tomorrow so I'm going to politely wrap my arms around your shoulders for 2.6 seconds to give the appearance that I tolerate your existence but really I'd be fine with waving, too" kind of hugs. It was a strong hug with a bit of conversation involved. And famous person also prefers players with equipment other than mine, but that doesn't mean I can't hug my friend, does it? I don't think so. And yes, I have an Artist Crush on him, too.

And for the record, great hugs are just about the most wonderful thing in the world.

Friday, December 03, 2010

We lost a legend last night. Ron Santo passed away at the age of 70 from complications related to bladder cancer.

In a way, we shouldn't be shocked. He battled health problems his entire life. But at the same time, he was so full of life that it is hard to imagine that he's not around anymore.

I never met Ron Santo. Everything I know about him, I know because of things I have read in the news or because of the documentary "This Old Cub," or because I listened to him call baseball games on the radio for years. So this post may not be 100% accurate. But it is how I felt about this man I never met, but who was such a large part of my life.

Every spring, the first spring training game that was broadcast on WGN Radio would bring tears to my eyes. Tears of joy that my boys were back and that all was right with the world. I loved listening to Pat and Ron - their voices brought peace to my heart. And as the seasons wore on, I loved them more and more. Ron teasing Pat for his horrible sweaters. Pat teasing Ron for washing his toupee in the dishwasher. These men knew baseball and loved baseball and helped us all love baseball, too. Ron's cries of "Oh, geez" and "Come on!" will be just as much remembered as his cries of "All right! Yes!" when the Cubs did something good. And when games got really bad, it was still fun to listen to Pat and Ron talk about everything but the game. They kept our spirits up as Cubs fans even when the Cubs were at their worst.

I loved the passion with which Ron Santo called games. He was a fan, first and foremost, and he loved the Cubs as much as the entire rest of the Cubs fan base combined. He took us through the ups and downs of the games and the seasons, feeling the same joys and disappointments as the rest of us. But he still loved the Cubs, no matter what, just like the rest of us.

From what I hear, he was a really great man, too. He was a husband and father and grandfather and he treasured his family. He did a lot of work with the Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation (though he often forgot what the acronym "JDRF" stood for in his broadcasts), and he would take the time to talk to kids with diabetes, one-on-one about...whatever. He would take the time to talk to fans and it seemed like he was always grateful for the amazingly blessed life that he lived, even with all of the hardships he faced. He never let them bring him down.

I'm sure that he will be inducted into the Hall of Fame now, but I'm sad that he won't be around to see that. I'm sure his induction speech would have been grateful and humble and joyful - I would have liked to hear it. And it kills me that he never got to see the Cubs win the World Series. We got so close. He got so close in 1969, but it just didn't happen. He wanted it so badly, and worked so hard for it, and loved the game and his team so much, and it didn't happen in his lifetime and that's devastating.

I've only cried at the passing of two celebrities - Madeline Kahn and now Ron Santo. We'll miss you, Number 10. Thank you for all of the amazing, brilliant years you gave us.