5.29.2010

Dream #4

He was tall and skinny, with buzzed hair. He said he was tired of knowing every woman would say yes if he asked them out. He asked me out - I laughed and said no. He smiled and started to walk off - nothing is new to him, in terms of dating. He's used to women just throwing themselves at him, not trying to know anything about him, etc. As he walks off I shout after him "top three bands?" He turns around and smiles again, startled. He rattles off the names of three bands I don't know and leaves.

Flash to: I ask him what kind of music the bands are and he says heavy stuff, like metal. I snort, like you listen to that stuff? He looks at me, fully expecting me to say I don't listen to anything hard or fast. I said "Well, if I listen to something like that, I go for Rise Against or Queens of the Stone Age." He looks at me, smiling slightly again, happily surprised to be surprised.

Flash to: Getting ready for a date. I'm looking for a shirt to put under the black sheer Buffy shirt. He's around somewhere, and I'm at ease.

Flash to: I'm lying on my stomach and he's tracing lines up and down my back. He says he loves it that we can do something like this and not just jump into bed. He's used to that, women just jumping him and not wanting intimacy from him.

5.13.2010

The Needle in the Haystack

I've been thinking about God a lot lately, or at least the concept of God. Having been surrounded by the religiously apathetic and the anti-religious for the entirety of my life, I've found it difficult to differentiate between my viewpoints and those with which I have been surrounded. Those who know me might be surprised to learn that I have actually spent a considerable amount of time over the years attempting to find my own beliefs amidst the others - the proverbial needle in the haystack, if you will.

I've always felt something more than myself was out there. For the most part, I've thought of it simply as life. The energy of an infinite number of living creatures that, together, can make some amazing shit happen. I've been convinced that God was/is something as likely as vampires and aliens. But I've always had a hard time being able (or willing) to call this energy God. For one thing, I didn't/don't think it really matters. Some call it God. Some call it Allah. Adonai, Jesus, Jehova...there are a million, and I don't want to offend too many people by leaving some out or being flat-out wrong about others.

The point is, if there is a God, than God is Adonai is Jesus is...you get the picture. That's what the whole one God thing means, right? Maybe the name for what I feel, Life, is just another one of those names. I don't think that God and science are incompatible. Creation and evolution. I don't (or rather, haven't) read the bible, but I love to learn. Like politics, religion is an area where ignorance serves nobody.

In the meantime, I'm going to stick to the things in which I believe with all of my heart: treat others as you would be treated - with love, compassion and respect. We are all equal, and we all deserve equal rights. Judge not, lest ye be judged. Gamers and geeks are awesome. Leave the gun, take the cannoli. Never go anywhere without your boomstick - they can be found in the sporting goods department. The force is with you. Screws fall out all the time - the world's an imperfect place. Rexy is sexy, but peacoats are better and Browncoats are the best. And above all, watch out - the fire swamp keeps you on your toes.

- Adrienne Cook

5.12.2010

Dream # 3

I have dreams like this almost every night, but more and more they seem to slip away with the dawn. That said, here's last night's...

I went to a party at Zachary Levi's house. We were rockin' the old-school Mario on NES. He joins me for a dance and asks me if I want to stay. I tell him I don't understand Jesus. Some people come in, needing his help. He goes to help them and I stay for a while.

At some point I go back to school - I'm living in a dorm. Because I was out all night, which is against their rules, they have locked me out of my room and put William out into the hall. I picked him up and went to yell at the snooty sorority girl working the front desk. I made her take down my statement to the dean in triplicate. I finally got them to let me back into the room so I could gather up my things. I'm standing there, holding William, when he walks back into the room. He looks at me kindly, a sweet smile on his face and simply asks "how can I help?"

Cue to William meowing me awake after 6 hours of sleep. Couldn't let me enjoy that one some more, could you, cat?


5.03.2010

The Other Me, The Other You

I sometimes wonder if we all have alternate versions of ourselves - if we're all really Superman or Wonderwoman masquerading as writers and architects. Then I stop and think to myself -maybe that's who the superheroes are. Writergirl. Architectboy. And my mind, the way it always is with its auto-movie-associations, flings to Michael Douglas calling out for the triumph of his own Wonderboy amidst a sea of naysayers.

I know, I'm rambling tonight. I lie awake and I think about the others who have gone before me, who move stridently down the yellow brick road or leap tall buildings in a single bound. I think about the hero I would become. Could become. Am becoming. In another life, I dreamed I could be an architect. It's easy for me, the visualization. The numbers of it on the other hand, are beyond me. Gaudi's curves, Corbusier's clean lines...the thought and the action, all in one breath.

What does writing have to do with architecture, you ask? Nothing. Everything. It's all creation, isn't it? And that is what I wish to give to the world. I wish to free each and every one of us to create. I can see it all in my head...the building so grand in scale but so light, so free. A puzzle so intricate, interlocking need and beauty. Space for the painters, the dancers, the violinist...If I had the head for it I would work out an algorithm of space and place and time - x feet in y location for z need. Music room. Painting studio. Gallery. Barre. All free and open for anybody with the heart for art. I believe in it enough to say that it is important. Art and books and knowledge and experience open us up to a world we may otherwise never have known. Where would I have been, had my grandparents not introduced me to musicals? Had my parents not introduced me to books?

I am thankful for the knowledge, for the gift of learning, for the gift of seeing what is possible in the world. I am thankful for those with the head for putting together the architectural puzzles and for making them somewhat comprehensible to the rest of us. One day, hopefully not too far away, I will make it happen. I will solve the puzzle. Writergirl to save the day!