Conversations with My Muse: Consequences of Our Actions

August 2, 2009

Well, well. It looks as though my muse has gotten herself into a little bit of a legal entanglement. While perusing the internet news sites, I came across this little news blurb:

Woman Sought for Damages, Causing International Havoc

(IP) International authorities (Interpol) are currently on the search for a woman connected to a recent series of disturbances in and around the Mediterranean area. As recently as last Friday, July 3l, several witnesses staying at the Hotel Trevi in Rome, Italy, indicated they had seen a young woman acting “strangely”. “We were there to see the Pope,” Augusta Sincionni stated to local authorities. “We didn’t expect such a sideshow!”

According to local attendees at the Pope’s Friday night service, the woman was overheard yelling random, nonsensical things such as: “Down with monotheism! Socrates deserved to die!” and, most bizarrely “Shakespeare was a fake!”

Unable to apprehend the suspect, authorities are now asking for the public’s help. The woman can be described as “in her mid- to late-twenties, braided, reddish hair, wearing a white toga with gold lamé trim and carrying a switch-blade stylus.” Anyone who sees a woman matching that description is encouraged to contact the local authorities. She is not considered “armed and dangerous,” merely off her medication.

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Conversations with My Muse: Dreams

July 31, 2009

Excuse me, but….Erik Estrada?

Erik Estrada? Who’s that?

The guy who was totally “crushing” on me last night.

Were you hurt?

No, silly. That’s a term

What’s a “term”?

“Crushing”

What’s it mean?

It means that someone *likes* another person.

Well, I must be crushing on you then.

No…lol, not likes as in Hey-I-enjoy-being-your-friend kind of *like*, but *like like*

Still not getting it.

Let me give you an analogy you can understand, ok?

That might work.

How do you feel about me?

I think you’re cool.

How do you feel about….chocolate?

It’s good..

Vodka and cranberry juice?

LOOOOOVE it.

Well there ya go, Erik liked me last night to the same degree you like Vodka and cranberry juice.

Oh, I see. Is he cute?

Well, last night he was. This morning, probably not as much.

Did you sleep with him?

No!!!! Good Lord, I’m married!

Then why were you with him last night?

Hey, he came to me. I didn’t go out gallavanting.

I’m getting confused again.

I probably should fill in some minor details.

That would certainly help.

I was sleeping and –

He came into your room while you were sleeping????

No! This is the point in our conversation where you don’t talk, okay?

Uh humm..

So, I was sleeping and Erik came to me in a dream.

Ah!!!! I get it. So you dreamt about being in love with Erik Estrada?

Yes, now you understand.

I get it….question?

Who’s that?

Oh my God…you don’t know who Erik Estrada is? How long have you been floating around this world?

Thousands of years, and no I haven’t. I can’t meet every one ya know..

I’ll give you that.

So, tell me more. Who is he and why was he in your dreams last night?

He used to star on a popular television show called “CHIPS”. He was a cop. They called him “Ponch”.

Ponch — that sounds like a fat man in a rain suit.

Trust me, he wasn’t anything like that. He was a very handsome guy — his face was plastered all over the gossip magazines.

You keep saying “was” — is he dead?

No, he’s still alive. But, he’s thirty years older now. I don’t really know what he looks like.

Well, you can google him ya know.

I should! Hang on…

C.H.I.P.S.

C.H.I.P.S.

There he is as “Ponch” from CHIPS

Wow, he is pretty hot.

Yes, I had such a crush on him….in 7th grade!

7th Grade? Gosh, that was….if I do my math correctly….1977?

Yes.

Holy crap that was a long time ago!

I know!

What does he look like now?

Hang on, let me try to find another picture..

Erik Now

Erik Now

That’s what he looks like now? Hmmm.

Yes. I’m afraid he’s a bit too over-botoxed and polished now.

What’s botox?

It’s the latest craze out here. Ever hear of botulism?

No, what’s that?

It’s a form of bacteria allowed to breed in food. The bacteria is a toxin–

Toxin? That’s poison, right?

Yes.

And people use this on their FACES?

Yes..

Holy Hercules, that’s gross!

Well, they don’t use a deadly supply on their face…

Oh?

No, they just use a smaller dose…It just temporarily paralyzes the facial muscles, leaving the skin looking taut. And, unfortunately, a little like a mannaquin’s face too.

I noticed that with Marcia Cross and Nicole Kidman — beautiful ladies, frozen faces.

Exactly. So…back to my dream with Erik. What was that all about?

What do you mean?

Why did I have a dream about Erik Estrada? I haven’t thought of him in years…

I dunno.

Aren’t you my muse? My visionary? The woman who brings me inspiration, creativity, poetry, etc? The one who, without those skills I’d be forced to study calculus equations? *hee hee*

Well, yes and no…

Huh?

I don’t do the night shift. I only work the 8 am to 10 pm shift with you.

You don’t?

Of course not! Did you honestly think I worked around the clock for no pay?

Well….my dreams are just as vivid as my day thoughts..I just figured —

Well, sorry to disappoint ya chickie, but I don’t do nights. I save that for my co-worker. And, let me give you a little insight about him —

Who?

My co-worker, “The Sandman”…

Ahhhhhh. What is it?

He tips the bottle a little too often. You know — glug, glug, glug

What makes you say that?

Think about it carefully. Do your dreams ever make perfect sense?

No, but they seem to make sense at the time I’m having them.

That’s because The Sandman is still at the bar, knocking back a few pints. Every thing seems okay, while he’s still sober. But by the time you wake up and begin to think about your dream — well, he’s passed out on the floor of a bathroom somewhere, waiting for the effects to wear off.

The Sandman’s a raging alcoholic?

Absolutely! But, he’s hilarious at times. Ever dream about being somewhere totally naked?

All the time..

That’s him playing a practical joke on you.

I don’t see how my being naked in public is in any way, shape or form *funny*.

I guess you had to be there….We get big giggles out of it when we all gather back at Mt Olympus to play the game tapes back. I swear Zeus is going to fall off his gilded throne every time he sees another naked person sitting in a classroom, to be honest.

Well, thanks for having a laugh at my expense.

Oh, lighten up. It’s only a dream. Like you wouldn’t actually be naked anywhere in public, right?

Maybe a nude beach somewhere..

You have those now?????

Yes, not exactly sure where though.

Wowwww, I am so there…Let me google it. I’m about ready to leave anyways, got some spare time on my hands.

You’re a wild one, aren’t you?

Always.

Okay, gotta get some more coffee in me anyways. Hugs?

As usual.

Later, chickie!


More About Michael Jackson’s Untimely Death

July 29, 2009

For some strange reason, I’m still fascinated by the emerging details surrounding Michael Jackson’s death. I wasn’t a fan of his — I haven’t been since 1980(ish). I think I stopped caring about him the moment he went from black to white (hmm, kinda like his song, huh? Just now thought of that) And with his questionable behavior the last few years, I certainly turned away from anything to do with him. Artistic talents aside, I am skeeved out by any man who invites young boys to play at his house. Shuddddder.

But, this isn’t about that. It’s about the details that are now covering all the headlines and internet news sites out there. People.com has a feature on it now (I admit, I read it — I’m a slave to tabloid reporting) where they interviewed the former chef. She mentioned part of the “typical” morning routine at his house was for Dr. Murray to “come down the stairs from Michael’s bedroom carrying oxygen tanks.” HUH?

This sounds so bizarre to me. What allegedly “healthy” 50-year old needs oxygen tanks replaced every morning? It was evident Michael did not smoke, so needing oxygen treatments for COPD could certainly be ruled out. I have a family member who requires oxygen for COPD, and that is only from 40+ years of smoking two packs of unfiltered cigarettes a day. That’s enough tar and nicotine to shellack the inside of one’s lungs, I would presume. And she’s in her 80s– did I mention that?

So again, I’m not buying whatever all these former and “current” employees are trying to sell as a “casual-day-in-the-park”. I don’t understand how all of Michael Jackson’s bizarre, unusual behavior and required “treatments” by his physicians (on-call or otherwise) can go unnoticed and unspoken about for  years.

The LAPD has every right and concern to go into a full-blown investigation of these doctors. But, I think it needs to go further. I think everyone who had any part in the “silent acceptance” of Michael Jackson’s slow descent into mental illness and subsequent drug use deserves to be put under a microscope and examined.

This is akin to watching some sort of psychological experiment run completely amok.

As an aside:

Has anyone thought to step in for Lindsay Lohan? I am worried she’s going to be making headline news next, followed by a whole new series of  stories that start with the line: “I remember when Lindsay used to…”

Sad, very sad.