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Dream Lover

January 18, 2007

Have you ever been in the middle of a fantastic dream — like about a boy flirting with you in the kitchen while you prepare dinner. And he’s kind of annoying because you can’t get dinner cooked but half of you thinks, “Let the chicken burn,” every time he wraps his arms around you from behind and kisses your neck right below the ear — and then something horrible (like your alarm clock) wakes you up.

Yeah, that happened to me this morning and despite my incredible reflexes and deft ability to push the sleep button before I even opened my eyes, I was unable to drift back into that romantic scenario. Instead, when I fell asleep a few minutes later I was suddenly in the kitchen with my ex boyfriend. I won’t go into what he was doing — because I don’t exactly remember — but it was traumatic, I do remember that.

What a horrible way to start the morning!

And, of course, when I awoke completely I was stricken with the realization that I have no such fantasy man to kiss my neck while I burn his chicken. Sob…

Earlier this week, as I was trekking down the hill behind my apartment building, awkwardly lugging my garbage and recycleables behind me, I started to miss that ex. Not the dating him part so much as the fact that he always took out my garbage. He didn’t even seem to mind doing it — which is almost unfathomable to me because I HATE taking out the garbage.

On a slightly unrelated note, I’m short. Normally this isn’t a problem, but on Tuesday night my kitchen light burned out. Even while standing on a chair I can’t reach the fixture. I would have been stuck in the darkness for quite sometime (because I always forget to do things like, “get a ladder from dad to fix that damn kitchen light bulb”) if it hadn’t been for a sweet, tall friend of mine.

In an incredibly compassionate gesture he came over on Tuesday night because I didn’t want to be alone. (And I must interject at this point that I really miss my friend Tanya Marsh — who is now Tanya Svec — because she used to come over so that I had company while I did the dishes, or homework, or laundry, or nothing. Why’d she have to get married and move to Puerto Rico?) And he changed the light bulb for me while he was over.

(Normally, this is the part where a blogger or writer will interject some sort of “Your life will be better if you just appreciate the little things” -type of statement in an effort to inspire you to live a fuller life and see the glass half full and enjoy the people in your life and all that crap. But I’m too self centered for that. So lets skip that part and just move on to me whining about being single…)

Why don’t people do those little things for me more? I always appreciate it. I always say thank you. I do. I even gave my tall light-bulb-changing pal a hug, called him my hero and fed him some pizza he didn’t really want.

I’m sweet. I’m cute. Why don’t people just pamper me? Seriously!

Is it because we can’t be too nice to each other? Does it make us too vulnerable to do that sweet little stuff? Or do we just not think of it? Or maybe I don’t ask people to do nice stuff for me often enough.

Okay, enough of Crystal whining…I’ll just have to hope my dream man returns to kiss my neck and wrap his arms around me while I’m sleeping tonight. And if you’re out there somewhere in the real world, Mr. Dream Lover — I’ll let the chicken burn anytime you want!

(These random bits of silliness have been thoroughly approved by the Council for all things Crystal. If you feel the statements were too silly, not silly enough or far to random, please, submit your comments below.)

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