Brooke Shields @ MindSay 
tom cruise
The first half of the night was spent dreaming about a coworker. Now I don't have much interaction with her. She's married, works on the opposite side of the building from me, but she is an attractive, tall brunette, and foreign, though her English is pretty good. This may have paved the way for the rest of the dreams that night.
In the dream, her and I were flirting pretty nicely. No clothes were taken off. She is heavy though, most likely due to the fact that she's tall and slender, and height adds muscle weight. (She's 5'-11"). How do I know she's heavy? For some reason in the dream I wrapped my arms around her legs (she was wearing calf-high boots, and I'm throwing in all the details I remember, so bear with me) while she was sitting, pulled her to me, and then hauled her over my shoulder, which happens to be sore in the waking world from hauling dirt bags and little kids on Sunday, and a box of frisbees on Monday. She seemed to enjoy it. Whatever.
Then next, after I woke up and went back to bed, I dreamt about Brooke Shields. Note: Another tall, attractive brunette. No, I have not watched her latest show. In fact, I can't remember watching any of her shows. I think I have seen her in a movie or two. Regardless, we were swimming in her pool, doing laps with two other older men. It may have been a club that we were members of. We were talking as though we were old friends. It was odd! Then it got weirder.
I began to dream indoors about an old friend that I have lost touch with, who is also a tall, attractive brunette. Yeah, theme night. In this third of the dream, she and I are catching up. We're in her home, which is a nice, large, above average-looking place. This would be the dreamscape of her childhood home, the one that I remember. She was telling me about all of the secrets that she found out about her life later on, the sad stories that she had to go through that she discovered or was unfortunately a part of. Part of the discovery, as she sat at a small table for two in a secluded part of a restaraunt / club now, was that her dad and mom had been divorced since she was 11, and all that time while we were kids, she didn't know who her real dad was, and this man was a fake. It was disturbing to her. There was sad theme music playing in the background, a piano. There were people sitting slightly above us in the main part of the dining area. They were mostly engrossed in their own conversations. I was listening to my friend and keeping an eye out for eavesdroppers. Her tale was a very sad one, and I was soaking up all the details, catching up with her. It's literally been years since we last spoke. Then suddenly, everyone seemed to notice just the two of us, past the curtains that seperated this lower, secluded area from the rest of the place, but they were looking at something different. Something moving. It turned out to be a flying bug.
Now in my dreams, insects hold a special place. They are usually feared, especially in the case of dire-sized or swarming insects. And usually my 'dream failsafe' goes off, because I hate insects. So here's this small black bee / beetle-looking thing, ugly critter, sitting on the wall behind me (naturally, I seem to attract insects too) and this time, of all the times to do this, I decide I'm going to squash it with the baseball cap I'm wearing. And I miss. Twice.
Failsafe goes off.
I wake up.
Damn it!
Oh well, this is part of the reason I've started turning to blogging. Got to get the details down before they disappear.
In his fantasy world driven by L. Ron Hubbard's sci-fi semi religion, Tom Cruise professes to know everything about the history of psychiatry and therefore, Brooke Shields' claims that anti-depressants saved her life when she was suffering from post-natal depression are wrong. She is weak. And therefore, by proxy, every person who has suffered from the medical condition called depression is weak and simply does not know that these things don't work and they have been brainwashed.
The Church of Scientology claims that this disease of depression is designed by the media and drug companies to make money - it does not exist. Depression is only a combination of sadness, lonliness and anguish (gee, sounds pretty bad to me) and did not exist prior to the drug companies deciding to make money from suffering.
Bullshit. Crap.
Speaking (writing) from experience, I was not conned by drug companies into taking anti-depressants. I was not conned into feeling better and no longer wanting to run and hide from everything and anything. And I speak for anybody who has suffered and no longer has to suffer due to "drugs" - these things can work. And if Brooke Shields feels that they saved her life, then they did and Tom Cruise, who lives in a fantasy world and has never suffered from this condition, can jump off as many couches and buildings as he wants, it doesn't change the fact that he is a royal idiot.
In his own words, "you're a jerk ... jerk ... you're a jerk"
Killing time while awaiting my honey's arrival from the land they call "America." Have just had the displeasure of watching clips of Tom Cruise waxing arrogant on this morning's Today Show. The BeKatied One's topic of choice? Why, the evils of psychiatry, of course -- he's done the (doubtless Scientology-sanctioned) research, you see.
His Royal Shortness gives me the serious heebie-jeebies. This is the brainiac, remember, who had this to say in response to Brooke Shields' use of Paxil in treating postpartum depression:
"When you talk about postpartum, you can take people today, women, and what you do is you use vitamins. There is a hormonal thing that is going on, scientifically, you can prove that. But when you talk about emotional, chemical imbalances in people, there is no science behind that. You can use vitamins to help a woman through those things."
Whew. Thank God all us poor, misguided women have Tom to watch our backs.
On another note, doesn't Natalie Portman make a great case for baldness?
