Wednesday, November 02, 2005


To M.:

"Occurred to me the other've been gone now, couple years. Well I guess it takes a while, for someone to really disappear. And I wonder, where you are.....And I wonder, if there was, some better way, to say goodbye," Patty Griffin

I'm haunted by the ghosts of the past. These ghosts show up in my dreams every night, just to remind me that I'm not nearly as well adjusted as I might think I am. Not many people actually are, but how many people regularly dream of someone that they dated in high school? or college? or for two weeks in junior high school?

One of my favorite comedy sketches is Ray Ramano performing at Carnegie Hall. In the routine he says that he has a cast of thousands living in his head during his sexual fantasies. The bit goes something like: "Ok, ok everyone *in a director's voice* gather round, gather round. I want everyone to meet our newest addition to the cast. Her name is....Wait, what was your name again, honey? Megan? Yes, hi Megan. And how did Ray meet you? Oh, he saw you bending over in the subway. Well, sometimes that's all it takes. And tell me Megan, are you bisexual? Well....*laughing* are now. Ok, ok, people let's get this thing started. We don't have all day"

The bit makes me laugh so much because I have the same problem with my dreams. Except that I don't get to dream about people that were nice or kind to me. My dreams are filled with every asshole that I let make me feel inferior, unattractive, and selfish. Everyone that has ever broken my heart plays a starring role in these melodramas. My favorite ones are the ones where I see an ex dating, kissing, flirting, with someone else. In my dreams I see the scenes where I hurt those I loved or cared about over and over again, changing slightly, but never varying from the theme. I see Zac turning translucent and dying in my arms, with me helplessly watching.

I wake up feeling awful about myself as a friend, lover, and mother, completely convinced that I'm never going to find anyone that will love me because I'm such a bad person. Please don't tell me to love myself because I do during my waking hours. I feel good about my new job and even my new haircut. Zac wakes up ecstatic to see my family after eight hours of solitude and smiles and giggles for our entertainment over Cheerios (I have no idea where he got that characteristic from. I can barely see in the morning, let alone giggle).

If I could talk to the characters of my dreams, it might sound something like: "Well, thanks for joining us here in the land of misery and melodrama. We're so glad that you could make it and, fortunately, thanks to our sponsor's generous donation of her unconcsious, you are guaranteed a very long run in this production. So get comfy, meet and greet each other because you will interacting quite frequently, and let's get started. We have someone to haunt here people, and she's going to be waking up soon to feed Zac!"

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