To perform like a "star," to steal the show, and to party with the "Gods"... take the stage, do the dance, and invite yourself.
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
LOVE Bucket List
When I was young and idealistic and whimsical and braided my long hair so that if fell over my left shoulder and wore sundresses and loved that my room was flowery and sweet and soft...when I was that age, I made a list of things that I wanted to experience in the world of love. I wrote them on little pieces of yellow paper. I folded them up and I put them in a small dish that I never gave back to a boy I dated. He had given me raspberries in that little dish. He gave them to me on our first date. They were fresh and round and red and he taught me how to burst the flavor of them by pressing my tongue to roof of my mouth. He gave them to me instead of flowers. Sometimes, I'll day dream about those raspberries, their taste, and the fact that we both kissed each other with remnants of them still in our mouths.
That little glass bowl is packed up in my belongings somewhere. I'm hoping to find it next month when I finally get my own house and can finally stop living out of a suitcase.
I remember a few that have come true. I wanted to kiss and kiss and kiss in a parking lot during a rainstorm...just like Molly Ringwald at the end of Pretty in Pink. It happened, and it was, if you can believe, even HOTTER than this. It was good. So, so good.
I miss kissing. I think about it a lot because I don't really want a boyfriend. I've had those. They don't stick the way I want them too. They either want too much from me or I want too much from them, but lately, it's been the former and it makes me wonder why I can't seem to make any sort of commitment. But I want kissing. I haven't kissed for two months. Maybe that doesn't seem like a long time. But it is. And I want it.
My wish list in the realm of love, I think, is simple. There is something attainable in that kind of simpleness.
One of the other simplistic wishes on my Love Bucket List is for a man to buy me the perfect used book for no reason at all other than the fact that he knows I would appreciate it. This happened, out of the indigo blue. It was a little French version of a small tale that I read when the sun is shinning. It was perfect.
I'm a traveling super nova...living, working, loving, and breathing. I love the way a good Scottish accent sounds, I love singing in the kitchen while I cook, I dream in iambic pentameter (a side effect of all the Shakespeare plays I have directed), my favorite book shops are in Paris and Boston. I am trying to learn the art of feng shui. I like gratitude.