Addict-ed to Love, and TV.

So a few months ago, I signed up for a Netflix account.  (I know, I know, I'm a little slow.)  Ever since, the boyfriend and I have become complete junkies.  So much so that last night, I took the next step and upgraded my account.  It's a dangerous addiction.

Our main staple is, of course, the famed series, Mad Men.  We have come to love Don Draper and his debonaire, alcoholic, chain-smoking ways.  But, to make things worse, last night we discovered Dexter, the relatively ground-breaking series about a serial killer that choses his victims in the name of making the world a better place, essentially eliminating the bad guys one villian at a time.  Though Dexter can be a somewhat dark and disturbing show, we are both now sucked in.

Surprisingly, last night's episode evoked a rather interesting thought.  Dexter comes across a villian couple--two individuals who are in cahoots on a terrible human trafficking plan, but who also happen to be in love.  Just before he kills and dismembers them, he poses this question: "How can two people as awful as you two still be in love with one another?"  In rushed gasps they both mutter that they share the same dreams for their lives--in this case the dream was to obtain obscene amounts of money no matter what the cost--but the idea seemed to stick with me.

What if the reason a relationship works is because the mutual dreams line up with one another in such a way that a unified bond is undeniable.  Like the way the proteins of DNA match up because their physical and chemical properties just seem to work with one another, what if we work with our romantic partner because all of the little nooks and cranies of our beings match up with theirs? 

As a test, I asked: "What's your life dream, babe?"
In his characteristic simple eloquency, he responded, "I don't know, I'd like to just be happy.  Doesn't really matter how, I just want love and happiness and a couple of kids."

Huh, maybe Dexter is onto something here.

Support-ed.

Last night at dinner, the topic of conversation turned to books, the book business in particular.  As I sipped my dirty martini (divine!) and he threw back a Sam Adams, questions and ideas flew back and forth across the table.

For the first time, I really had the opportunity to explain the publishing industry, and to my surprise, he had a genuine interest in all that I said.  Finally, when I paused to take a breath (and guzzle a bit more vodka), he leaned in.  "You should write a book, babe."

It's always been a dream, one I assume most bloggers share.  Something I've always hoped to do.  Number one on the bucket list.  However, it's always been a bit of a silent dream.  Not one I'm willing to shout too loudly.  But, hearing it out loud from another's lips made it seem more concrete.

"I will."

Sometimes all it takes is a bit of encouragement; the wings of dreams don't work without a little wind underneath them.  So, I encourage you to surround yourself with people who support you and the things you love.  They just may be the ones to make them happen.

pic:weheartit

Lov-ed you ever since.

I'd wish upon a star, but none as bright as you.
I'd wish upon an hour, but none of them will do.
I'd pluck a flower, but none smell as sweet.
I'd give you my forever, but you know its yours to keep.

What gift is left to give,
To the man made of dreams?
When all that's left to give,
is what's left of me.

I'd say a little prayer, but God already knows.
I'd tell you a story, but you know how it goes.
I'd kiss a million frogs, but you're the only prince.
I loved you from the start, and I've loved you ever since.

Hop-ed, Dream-ed, Realiz-ed.

Today, like any other day, is a day of unlimited potential.  Anything can happen if you believe it can.  Make today a day of hopes and dreams and realities.

1. Help yourself to an extra large slice of pumpkin pie...with whipped cream.
2. Find time to tell the people in your life how much they mean to you.
3. Start a tradition that your children will carry on when you're gone.
4. Relish the simple pleasures.
5. Kiss someone until passion leaks through your lips.
6. Trust in the possibility of the impossible.
7. Dust off your wings and make a promise to use them when the right breeze blows through.
8. Identify the things in your life to which you will remain loyal no matter what.
9. Ask the universe for something you think you deserve.  Then work harder to deserve it.
10.  Discover something magical about the world today.

pic: weheartit

Unemploy-ed.

One afternoon while on a long run, I got to thinking.  This was during the long months of unemployment following college, so naturally, my thoughts wandered into the familiar realm of bewildered self-discovery.  I found myself quietly constructing a “What I Should Have Done with the First 23 Years of my Life” list.  It went a little something like this: study English…real English, the classics.  Write. Had a little more, or a little less, fun—serious work pays off just as much as being a free spirit does.  Majored in psychology—I would have written the best books on “self.”  Volunteered—read to the elderly, or the young.  Became a chef, or a food critic, or a wine connoisseur.  Read the lyrics of “Better People” by Xavier Rudd for a more poetic rendition of all this.

…but I guess there’s still time.  And it isn’t until just now that I have even the slightest clue of what I wanted all along.  Life is funny like that.  The majority of us don’t figure out who we really are (or at least want to be) until we’re too old to make it happen.  Or too pessimistic to try.  The world teaches us that most dreams are impossible. Perhaps, the reason for living is to prove the world wrong.  It often seems we live right-side up in a world of upside-downs.

Whenever these kinds of thoughts start swirling around in my head, I call my grammar school best friend who now lives in Sydney, Australia with her boyfriend, a full-time lifeguard and star of a hit reality TV series.  She always was a bit of a free spirit, often dragging me into the muddy stream to “save the minnows” or conducting séances in her basement to speak to the Indian ghosts she believed her house was built over.

“Life is taking you too seriously,” she told me.  At first, I thought she had been sipping a few too many Fosters, but just before I could correct her, she explained herself.  “Over there in America, you all have a formula to follow.  If you don’t graduate from college, get a desk job, land a husband, and start a family, society tells you you’re doing something wrong.  But, if you ask me, that equation is missing a hell of a lot.”

“I guess so,” I managed.
“Sure, all of those things are great…and if there is anyone that is meant to be a mom, it’s you.  But where is the fun?  What ever happened to exploring, traveling, doing something crazy—something worth writing a book about?”

And so I'm taking her advice.  We need to take life seriously--go after our dreams, follow our heart--without letting life take us too seriously.  Make sense?