3 posts tagged “love”
Dream for which to sleep in? Seems I can't avoid prepositional danglage. But it was worth it.
I dreamt an amazingly creative, fun, smart, goofy and downright s e x y rock star fell in love with me. Now, mind you, I know no rock stars, never mind those of the exceptional qualities listed. And I am, well, me. A 43-year-old way fat lady with split ends, hideous feet, and lactose intolerance. Did I mention I'm a grandma? Sexy rock stars don't happen to women like me. But it was a dream, and as real a dream as I've had in forever, so I enjoyed every second of it.
Until the me in the dream started to think. The dream me started to think about life on the road, the parties, the drinking, the women throwing themselves at "my" rock star. Even the dream me is insecure and reticent. What happened to my carpe diem? I used to have a set of brass ones, my friends. Guess I'm getting old. Or maybe inevitably we learn from our experience, and mine has been that romantic love leads to abandonment and pain (I'm not one to agree with the "better to have loved and lost" crowd — losing is actually much worse than not knowing what you're missing).
But while the rock star dream lasted, it was so sweet. Long hair, long arms, spontaneous, energetic passion, embracing on a ferris wheel, walking on the beach under the stars, the whole package. I savored every moment, even with my dream me fighting the plunge, the dreaming me made her ride it out until the final wake up call (Giz throwing all 24 pounds onto the pillow next to me, trilling to be fed). At least my kitty is a rock star. And sleeps with me, mostly.
Trying to get a bubble up:
Got a huge bubble up, gramms laughing too hard to hold camera still:
(And in case you're wondering, he's 24, and so is his wife, Grace. Well, almost. She'll be 24 in June.)
I doubt it, but she keeps getting prettier and she keeps learning more skills. Let's list them, shall we?
- Breathing. She picked that one up all on her own, right away.
- Crying. She's very good at it and practices frequently.
- Burping. Not to be confused with ....
- Belching. Like a stevedore, my friends. Her Great Aunt Emily would be proud.
- Drinking. Probably should have listed this before the above.
- Cooing. Good lord, it slays me.
- Peeing. Wow! She is so talented.
- Pooing. Prolific child!
- Nursing. Yay! With gusto, I might add. Mom is also to be credited for this skill.
- Sleeping. Another skill she practices often. She is very, very good at this one.
- Grasping loved ones' fingers. *weep* Really, it's just too much.
