Weird dream
Perhaps this is a product of my still lingering headache...
I dreamt I was loading a rickety, dirty old dishwasher with Angel while Buffy was down on the other end of a very large kitchen counter. She was ignoring us, on purpose. Angel was mad. He just glowered. He said, "Aren't you going to ask me something?" eyes flickering back to Buffy knowing I wanted to ask about the status of their relationship. I just said, "No. You don't seem to be in 'sharing mood'"
He emphatically raised his eyebrows and huffed, "No, I am not."
----
That's it. I have no idea what it might mean. Really.
1 Comments:
I must say that this dream came as something of a relief to me. I know that Colin is a well-adjusted person with lots and lots of friends --one of them, apparently, with an accordion--. He has dreams with Angel and Buffy in them. Ergo, if I have dreams with television characters in them, it is not a proof that I am a maladjusted sad sack with no friends worth dreaming about in their own right. That might be true, but dreaming is no proof one way or the other.
Speaking of maladjusted sad sacks, last night I got home from Manhattan to (my folks' home in) Brooklyn somewhat early, because I had bought half-price tickets to go to the theater but had forgotten to remember that shows on Broadway these days have a 7pm curtain on Tuesdays, which I approve of in principle but would have liked to be reminded of. Such oopsies are actually much more likely to happen to ex-native-New-Yorkers such as myself, than to genuine tourists who are much more careful about such things.
But back to the (other) maladjusted sad sack: I got to see a new episode of Queer Eye for the Straight Guy, in which, in honor of gay pride I suppose, they decided to do a makeover of a gay man, not a straight one. 37, no new wardrobe because he had just lost 50 pounds. His friends were frisky and charming, but he lived like a semi-recluse who hadn't gotten out of Manhattan in fifteen years, and was only just recently over his last relationship, of five years ago. He was a low-energy curmudgeon, despite his enthusiasms for '80s disco music (the Fab 5 gave him a new turntable), and wrestling and comic books.
I invite the readers of Roughgroove Blog to meditate on this episode, which really wasn't that much fun to watch (because he was low-energy). I took certain morals from the story: 1) If you don't lose the weight, they won't put you on television. 2) 37 is considered too old to be single: the Fab 5 were unhappy that he wasn't dating, but they kept on talking about him finding Mr. Right. 3) The Fab 5 were appalled by his interest in wrestling and comic books, simply called it all immature, and couldn't even make jokes about it: they're always teasing the straight guys for being little boys who won't grow up, but they didn't know how to deal with this from one of their own. 4) It seemed to be taboo to say so in so many words, but the Fab 5 were very clear that their goal was to prevent this guy from becoming a pathetic shut-in (of which New York is full), and they justified all sorts of things --buying him a bike and going out cycling with him, for instance-- in terms of, "This would be a good thing for you to do for your health, and as a date," but never, "We are appalled by your lack of a life, and we want you to remember that life has good things in it." (The food guy Ted actually did say that about his infantile eating habits.)
At this point you may be saying to yourself, "Methinks Patitos is over-investing." Yes, Patitos is probably over-investing. It's probably very good that Patitos saw this while at his folks' in New York, and not in the mosquito-infested dales of northern Ohio.
But I also noticed two other things, one I suppose prohibited by the rules of the game, the other not: nobody told him, "Hey guy, you need therapy." It's possible they didn't think he needed therapy, or they may think that what they're doing for the guy is the best therapy, and both of those positions are quite plausible. But they also didn't take Wayne to any gay community organizations, at all, and I wonder about that. They bought him a bicycle and he and Kyan went cycling: why didn't they sign him up for a stint at Sundance, the big gay outdoors group in New York? They brought him to the improv group at the Upright Citizens Brigade, a very worthy new small theater group (where he was atrocious, but nobody would tell him so, and they just cut away from him when it was clear that he had absolutely no talent): why didn't they bring him to one of the events at NY's Lesbian and Gay Community Center and sign him up for a reading group?
I fully expect one of these days to have a dream, not with Angel and Buffy, but with the Fab 5 (or, more likely, the various straight guys that they've helped that I found so interesting --Butch the artist, cute John with the Armenian fiancee--). I wonder if they'll be in a sharing mood when I dream about them--
2:27 PM
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