I am the eggman

I am the walrus. koo koo ka choo. What the hell does that mean anyway. I have always ascribed my own meaning to the term walrus in this context. It is sort of a mental picture, not so much a definition. Is it a walrus and carpenter reference? I apologize if i have not properly studied my beatles (or even read the lyrics). I am ashamed. So does anyone remember in Chasing amy where Banky draws the picture of the hundred dollar bill on the street and surrounds it with the Easter bunny, Santa Claus, the sweet sexy lipstic lesbian, and the man hating dyke? Well he asks ben affleck to figure out which one will get to the money first, and the answer of course is the man hating dyke. Why? because the other three are a figment of your fucking imagination!!! I am currently plagued with a debate about the figments vs. reality that i would like you to ponder with me (and it's not the one you think Lynn! its the other one.) How many of the ideals of personal evolution that we chase are really attainable, and how many are the proverbial easter bunny? Are we wrong for chasing them even if they are fictional? Are we chasing them for the wrong reasons? And is attainability really necessary for a decent dream? I know which i would like to believe, hell i invested the last several years of my life in dreaming the impossible dream (in various ways) due to an almost obsessive need to be a good example. If it were up to me i would have settled years ago. I'd still be a waitress, I'd have short hair, i would have never tried running and i would definitely still be getting around by bus (rather than my bike) I would be married to Jason (whom some of you had the distinct pleasure of meeting on Saturday, sorry sarah), and I would definitely not be a Junior in college with an associate degree on my way to a bachelors and possibly a masters. I don't think that would have been soooo bad, but i felt obligated to strive for more. Mostly it's because I was unsatisfied with that life, but not for the reasons you think. I think I would have gone crazy had i never proven to myself that i could do all these things, that i could be different. My mom had my brother at age 18, and she had me at age 28. I just turned 29. Another year and she had my sister, another year and she was divorced. I think the path i was on would have led me straight down the one already paved by my mother, which doesn't scare me so much. I'm kinda sorry that i'm not married yet, that i am not ready to start my career, and that it will be quite a while before i can have kids. What really scares me is the long run of that path, where my mother is now. don't get me wrong, she's a great lady but she is also an unfulfilled, unsatisfied drunk who get's up early, goes to bed early, and fills her days with dive bars and discount stores. She could have been so, so much more. She's a smart lady, hell the apple don't fall far from the tree, right? She could still go back to school, what else has she got to do, right? I tell her that all the time. Somehow i don't think it gets through. i will not end up like that. Mostly my pursuit of a loft career of the personally gratifying type is my defense against ending up like that. When my kids are grown, my husband is dead, divorced, or at the very least not hot for me anymore, i wanna be able to provide my own amusement. Otherwise i'll die of scirosis. No, the path i was on wouldn't have been a bad one, and the one i'm on now is pretty good, I think i'll keep it. All i've done so far is prove to myself i could do it. I'm not sure how much happier i am. Which brings me back to why i wrote this blog in the first place: why do we dream? I know why we dream, we dream because we have to. And no, attainability is not a requirement, sometimes its a deterrent. We never know which ones are attainable, and of course we aren't wrong for chasing those that aren't. And there is no wrong reason for dreaming. Except for one area of life. I don't know if it's just me, if it's just me and my friends, if it's just women, or if it's all terminally single people. I do know that a while ago it became wrong to dream. I don't know how, I don't know what happened, but i turned into a cynic. So did a lot of people i know, actually. It's not really fair if you ask me. If you dream that the bad boy, the one you are actually attracted to, is really a diamond in the rough, then you are a doormat. If you dream that the problem you are having with your new boyfriend is just the growing pains of two people who really like each other then you are delusional. If you dream that you might get another chance with the one that got away then you are obsessed. Why? what purpose does it serve? I don't think it has stopped anyone from dreaming, i think it has just driven us all indoors. We have turned into a group of closet dreamers, of people who hold out hope but don't dare tell our friends for fear of looking foolish. I can't be the sunny optimist, however. I fear that there really is some foundation to the icy heart syndrome. I guess the secret is to balance the optimism with cautiousness and realism. Of course that's the secret. But for my part i'm coming out of the closet. I have a dream, and it is a ridiculous one. I still think it's gonna come true and i'm not ashamed to admit it. I think i'm gonna get another chance at the one that got away (sorry, no one you guys know) and i'm not gonna screw it up this time. Won't you join me in the light?