Growing up the son of two Jewish shrinks, I lived in a world where dreams took on otherworldly importance. My earliest recurring nightmares were of visiting a distant relative who turned out to be a Vampire, stalking five year-old me even in my waking hours on New York's Lower East Side.
Now that Carl Jung's "Red Book", locked in a Switzerland bank vault for years is being published, I find a famous champion of the importance in dreamscapes.
The Zombie dreams I suffered from while spending a year at a clothing optional isolated college campus in the hills of Vermont clearly illustrate my feelings of claustrophobia and loneliness. I hope in Jung's bravery by exposing his lucid psychic struggles (whether he meant to publish them or not?) will inspire me to face the light and dark inner workings of my own unconscious.
So lately, as the temperatures finally rise, so do our stress levels. I see people screaming at each other in the street, and hear exasperated sighs over the blaring of my headphones. The past week everyone has been downright pugnacious, it seems. Fights start out over an accidental gaze, a dismissive gesture, some badly said words. More than ever I want to lay in the ocean and float away somewhere kinder, you know, a place where everyone radiates peace and calm. But until then I have other sneaky little devices, including smells and sights and sounds to keep my stress from choking the life out of me. For me, the best medicine is laughing, laughing so hard that I almost "lizz" a little. (To Lizz is to Laugh and Whiz your pants at the same time, thanks 30 Rock.)
1) A friend just started a blog about her serious bout of Anglophilia, and this Orgasm a Day piece made sense of her anglophilia to me.
2) I watched this movie after the longest, stress-iest day ever, and it made me so, so, so happy. Serious camp-fest, and watching it with hilarious boys I rarely get to hang out with made it even better. Quote of the night was when my-brother-from-another-mother-but-not-literally said, "I think I can speak Norwegian, it's sort of like mumbling in English."
