The impossible dream…

28 12 2008

Don’t you absolutely hate it when someone comes up to you and wants to tell you about the dream they had last night? The dreamer always thinks their dream is so God-damn interesting, but it’s really just a bunch of vague nonsensical images that have no relevance to the listener, and it’s a giant waste of everyone’s time. Don’t you absolutely, positively, hate when people do that?

Too fucking bad.

So last night, I had this dream. I was at the Water Park of America, which is “…America’s Biggest Indoor Water Park Hotel!” (according to them). I was there by myself, for some reason. I mean, not like I was the only person in the park, but I wasn’t there with any friends. I was alone. Which is strange since I can’t imagine just going to a water park by myself. But anyway, I am going down the inter tube slides, because I hate the body slides…the water splashes so far into your face you feel like you are drowning by the end of it…but every time I get to the end of the slide, I lose my tube. For those of you who have been there, you know this is a big problem…rubber tube’s are a precious commodity at Water Park of America (America’s Biggest Indoor Water Park Hotel!).

But somehow, even though I keep losing my tube, a new one magically appears from under the water just as I am about to get to the edge of the pool. So I am having a great time, tubing down the slides by myself, when suddenly it is time for Water Park of America (America’s Biggest Indoor Water Park Hotel!) to close for the night.  Bummer.  So I float in my tube that I haven’t lost this time towards the exit, when I see the owner of Water Park of America (America’s Biggest Indoor Water Park Hotel!) standing there.  The owner is a very ancient and wise looking Chinese man, like you always see in the kung fu movies who advise the hero.  Sort of like Mr. Miyagi, but more grizzled.  Also, this very ancient and wise looking Chinese guy is super tall, or maybe just floating.  And he says to me in that very ancient and wise way, “Tim, would you and all your friends like to stay the night in my hotel, and play in my water park, for FREE!”

Well as it just so happens to turn out, I would like this.  Very much.  So I say, “Yes, Ancient-And-Wise-Super-Tall-Or-Maybe-Just-Floating-Chinese-Guy.  I would like that very much.”  So the owner tells me I need to call Nikki W., who for some reason is staying at another hotel with all my friends, and get her and the whole gang over here.

(It’s important to note at this point that I’ve actually met the REAL owner of Water Park of America (America’s Biggest Indoor Water Park Hotel!), and he is neither Chinese nor very tall.)

Yep, that’s him.  From my dream, I mean.  Not the real owner.

So now I need to call my friends, but I have to put my clothes on first, for some reason.  And you know how when you put on clothes, and you are all wet, and it takes forever because the cling to you?  It feels like I am putting my clothes on in slow motion, and I am panicking because I need to call Nikki W. before the place closes.  So I get my clothes on, and I get my cellphone, but it’s not my cellphone.  First of all, it’s fucking gigantic.  Like, bigger than any cellphone has ever been in the history of the universe.  It looks like an over-sized prop from a Benny Hill sketch.  Also, for some reason, I have to plug it into an electrical outlet for it to work.  And if you’ve ever tried to find an electrical outlet in an indoor water park, you know they are sort of hard to come by.

So instead I take my giant ass cellphone to the restaurant, and use one of their plug ins, and I get a hold of Nikki W.  But Nikki tells me I am supposed to be at the theater, because apparently I am starring in “Man of La Mancha” and it has already started without me.  So I race over to the theater, which by a happy coincidence is right by the Water Park of America (America’s Biggest Indoor Water Park Hotel!), and I get inside the theater, except is sort of looks like my old apartment, but the show is going on and I get there right in time to sing “The Impossible Dream,” which I think is weird since I might be the most God-awful singer in existence, and I maybe know 30% of the lyrics to that song.

BUT!  I am awesome.  I sing a perfect rendition, and I am expecting all my friends to be in the audience, but they are not.  However, the cast of the TV show “Friends” are there, and they think I am fantastic!  Well, except for Lisa Kudrow, who thinks I was a little “pitchy.”  I don’t know what pitchy means, and when I ask her to explain it, she tells me not to be such a smart-ass, but suddenly she is still Lisa Kudrow but she’s also sort of my dad.  And my dad is telling me that I should have picked a song that is in my “range” and I still don’t know what that means and I am trying to tell my dad that it is a musical not a karaoke bar, I don’t get to pick what I sing, and THEN my old college director shows up and apparently she was directing this show and she tells me that, yes, I could have picked to sing whatever I wanted, and I’m all like, “What the fuck?” and then I wake up.

Awesome, huh?

And now, some interpretation, courtesy of


To dream that you are alone, indicates feelings of rejection. You may be feeling that no one understand you.

Oh,  You know me all too well.  It’s true.  I’m so misunderstood.


To dream that you are on or see a waterslide, suggests that you� are being swept away by your emotions. You are slowly exploring the realm of your unconscious. Alternatively, the dream suggests that you are going with the flow of things without any objections or resistance.

Wow.  Super analysis, there.  So, I’m either being swept away and am out of control, or I am relaxed and going with the flow.  Yep, it’s definately one of those.


To see something old in your dream, suggests that there is something in your life that you need to replace or get rid of.

So long, showering regularly!  You’re out of here.


To dream that you are wet, suggests that you are drenched or overcome with your emotions. It also signifies a spiritual cleansing, rebirth or renewal.

Could also signify that I have just been dreaming about water slides for the past 15 minutes.  Maybe?  Possibly?  Just a guess.


To sing in your dream, represents happiness, harmony and joy in some situation or relationship. You are uplifting others with your positive attitude and cheerful disposition. Singing is a way to celebrate, communicate and express your feelings.

Blah ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!  Ah ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha…ha…ha…ha ha…ha…ha…ha…ha…ha………ha…….ha……<gasps for air>….AH ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha….


To see your father in your dream, symbolizes authority and protection. It suggests that you need to be more self-reliant. Consider also your waking relationship with your father.

…ha ha ha ha ha ha ha haaaa HA ha ha ha ha ha….ha….ha….ohhh….oh boy….ha…ha.  My favorite part was when I was “uplifting others” with my “positive attitude” and “cheery disposition”.  Good one.  Now what’s the about my dad?

Five Wishes…

18 11 2008

When you have a serious illness, hospitals like you to fill out a “living will” that states how you would like your medical affairs handled in the event your condition makes you unable to advocate for yourself.  The hospital I am currently being treated at, St. Johns, has one specifically for their hospital that not only deals with the legal technicalities of medical treatment, but emotional and spiritual decisions as well.  Filling out a living will is a somber, important, sometimes frightening task that should be done with all due seriousness, and with the advice of family and close loved ones, in the privacy of ones home.  So tonight, I thought I’d get drunk and we could fill mine out together!

Come on…it’ll be fun.


The Person I Want To Make Health Care Decisions For Me When I Can’t Make Them For Myself.

Pretty straightforward: Who do I want making my medical decisions if I am in a coma or unable to respond due to failing health.  No mention if it covers me if I can’t make medical decisions due to the fact that I have skipped out on my doctors appointment and am currently using my medical insurance money to enter a poker tournament.  I’m going to assume it does.

I listed as my first person my mom.  Seems like an obvious choice: She has known me the longest and probably would be able to deduce what I want for myself better than anyone.  Also, she is the only person in the world I am nearly 100% convinced isn’t part of a secret government conspiracy to kill me and steal my precious bodily fluids.

In case my first person is dead, incapacitated, or lazy, I need two back-up choices.  For my first backup I listed my sister Amber.  I maybe should have listed her first…she is probably the most level headed person in my family, and unquestionably the most organized.  However, there is still the slight issue of a stolen Teddy Bear and its untimely demise from when we were toddlers, and I’d hate to have the plug pulled out from me just because my sister is still broken up about Mr. Wiggles.

For my third choice…and it is here that I depressingly realize I have no third choice.  I decide to list my dad because I can’t think of anyone else, but quite frankly if it comes down to him, I suspect that hospital staff will be too busy listening to his complaints of how badly his back hurts to worry about me at all.

After filling out the names, I notice this at the bottom of the page:

Choose someone who knows you very well, cares about you, and can make difficult decisions.  A spouse or family member may not be the best choice because they are too emotionally involved.

Well fuck.  NOW you tell me this.  If there is any two people in the world that are too emotional, it is my mom and sister.  Hmm…

After giving it some thought, I decide to scratch out all three choices and replace them all with former Pittsburgh Steelers head coach Bill Cowher.  Bill Cowher doesn’t know me well, and I have no idea if he cares about me, though I’d like to believe he does.  But he’s definitely a man that can make difficult decisions.  If you can figure out whether or not to go for it on 4th and 2 with 1:13 left in a tie ballgame, I think a little something like whether or not a 30-year old cancer patient should continue to live or die should be a snap.


My Wish For The Kind Of Medical Treatment I Want Or Don’t Want.

This section contains statements that you are supposed to cross out if you don’t agree with them.  The first statement is:

I do not want to be in pain.

God damn, if only my college exams were this easy.  Yes, I am quite amicable to agreeing to that statement.  No crossed lines yet.

I do not want anything done or omitted by my doctors or nurses with the intention of taking my life.

This magical document is reading my mind.  It’s like it knows me personally and has already figured out what I want.  Yes, magical living will, I do not want my doctors to purposely not do something in order to kill me.  Good call.


My Wish For How Comfortable I Want To Be.

This is a fun section.  If this is any indication, being almost dead will be far more pleasant than my daily life.

I do not want to be in pain.

Yes, I am still in agreement with this.

I wish to have a cool moist cloth put on my head if I have a fever.

Fine.  But just the cool, moist cloth.  No gay stuff.

I wish to have warm baths often.  I wish to be kept fresh and clean at all times.

Um, sure, why not?  Might be a nice change of pace from my currently lifestyle…

I wish to be massaged with warm oils as often as I can be.

Yes, please.

The only statement I cross out is this one: I wish to have religious readings and well-loved poems read aloud when I am near death.

Open message to my friends and family: if anyone is reading any “well-loved poems” in my room when I am about to kick the bucket, I am rising out of my bed, and my sick ass is taking you to the next life with me.  You stand warned.


My Wish For How I Want People To Treat Me.

Most of these are fairly obvious and uninteresting.  Several involve praying.  I cross them out.  The only time I want to hear God’s name invoked is when I’m in bed with a girl…if you get my drift.  Huh, huh, do ya?  Ya get it?

I’m talking about banging a chick and having her say “Oh God.”  Just thought we should clear that up.

One interesting statement: I wish to be cared for with kindness and cheerfulness, and not sadness.

I do want that, but at the same time, there is something creepy about the idea of being in my hospital room, dying, and my nurse walks in humming the theme to Mr. Rogers and makes me a balloon animal.  I’m not sure how I will feel about that…


My Wish For What I Want My Loved Ones To Know.

I wish for my family and friends to know that I love them.

I wish to be forgiven for the times I have hurt my family, friends, and others.

I wish to have my family, friends, and others know that I forgive them for when they may have hurt me in my life.

I want memories of my life to give [my family and friends] joy and not sorrow.

I don’t cross out any of these.

Finally, there is a space asking what I would like done with my body, with the option to circle “buried” or “cremated.”  I cross out both of these and write in the margin: I want my body stuffed, placed in the entry way of my home, and posed the way my family and friends will surely remember me–a sexy facial expression, my crotch thrusting outwards past my torso, and arms gesturing alluringly towards my body as if to say “I know you want a piece of this…”

Because nothing sums up my life like implied necrophilia.