Given the lack of it in my waking life you would think that my dreams would be filled to overflowing (no gross pun intended) with sexual content, but that actually is not the case.
Not most nights, at any rate, though Sunday night proved to be quite an exception.
Don’t worry; I have no intention of getting into details, but suffice to say that…well, damn!
Of course, along with all the sex I was engaging in other activities that are no longer a part of my waking life, such as smoking and drinking, so overall, my dreams were a very naughty place to be that night.
Naturally the cold, cruel light of reality shattered those dreams, though, and so it was back to my life of monkish privation.
Apart from the obvious, more and more I’ve come to appreciate just how many disadvantages there are to being as utterly single as I am, such as the fact that there’s never anyone around to hear some of my best material.
Too often I’m finding myself in Alf-like fashion having to kill myself with the various bon mots I utter to no one throughout the day, as there is no one else around to hear them.
Oh sure, I can repeat them to people at work, or write them here, but that’s not the same as having an audience on hand at the time to appreciate them (or, alternatively, to point out that maybe they aren’t as funny as I think they are and that I’m probably just getting crazier and crazier the more I spend my time in near-total isolation).
Probably the worst thing for me about being totally alone, though, is not being able to participate in three-legged races.
Once again working on the remaining pieces of the D&D picture has fallen by the wayside, as I stumbled across some new (to me) pictures of my beloved Rachael Leigh Cook yesterday, which inspired me to sift through some of my existing pictures and get to work on some RLC portraits.
This was reinforced by my stumbling across the movie “Stateside” last night, which featured RLC as a young woman suffering from schizophrenia.
Now, RLC in and of herself is enough for me, but RLC playing a crazy chick? Given my predilection towards crazy chicks, that’s like gilding the lily.
As can be evidenced by my inability to look away from the crazy, hot Italian chick despite the fact that she frightens me terribly, the combination of hot and crazy is rather a compelling one for me. As scared as I may be, I find myself drawn in by crazy eyes.
I’ve never been certain why, but for some time now I’ve been aware of this attraction to craziness. Now, I’m not big on the Glenn Close coming-at-you-with-a-knife-after-boiling-the-family-pet brand of craziness (especially since Glenn Close isn’t hot), or even any sort of loudly demonstrative craziness. I’m drawn more to a sort of subtle craziness, a glint in the eyes that suggests that under the surface things just aren’t quite right.
In particular, I like when the craziness in the eyes hints at some barely-hidden vulnerability and, as it did with RLC’s character, manifests itself in behavior that while verging on the psychotic mostly comes off as a sort of adorable quirkiness.
As I said, I don’t know why crazy is a turn-on for me, but I suspect that it stems from a belief that the only kind of women I would have a shot with are the ones who are mentally deficient in some fashion. You know: You don’t have to be crazy to date Jon, but it helps.
In any cases, all I know is that in the scene when RLC and the lucky bastard playing the part of her boyfriend have sneaked into his room at night and, being a skittish creature, she keeps getting startled by the various odd late-night household noises such as the clanging of the pipes as the heat comes on, and she says, in a quiet voice, “Your house sounds like the inside of my head,” she was, at that moment, the absolute hottest I’ve ever seen her.
Of course, the fact that she was in her underwear at the time didn’t hurt matters any either...
But crazy or not, I adore Rachael Leigh Cook. She comes as close as anyone I’ve ever seen to being my physical ideal (though she is a little on the skinny side).
Despite my adoration, though, I really haven’t seen that many of her movies. Even though I think she’s absolutely gorgeous, most of her movies haven’t been the sort of thing I would watch, though I was willing to sit through “Josie and the Pussycats” just to be able to look at her (though I didn’t actually seek that one out), and my interest in her doesn’t really extend beyond merely looking at her, so I know nothing of her personal life or any crap like that.
I would say that she’s a reasonably talented actress, especially compared to many others of her generation, but she’s never really impressed me in that regard. So as much as I adore her, I’m not really much of a fan.
She is, apparently, getting a TV series called “Head Cases,” which I’m sure will last, at a maximum, for five episodes, though that would be five more airings than her last attempt at a series ever managed, and I may be willing to try watching that one for as long as it lasts.
In any case, I’ll be doing some work on a picture of her while I wait to get the call confirming that my car is ready.
Last night Brian called to let me know that they weren’t going to come to get Kathleen’s Sportage, so when the car is ready I’ll have to drive over to their house and have Brian bring me to the dealership.
I suppose that I’ve done enough ramblings about my own craziness today (maybe I’m just drawn to kindred spirits with the whole craziness thing), so I’ll get back to work on my RLC portrait. I’m sure I’ll be back later.
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