Dream Journaling: West Wing, Wrestling, Speech Writing and Dancing

I seriously cannot write this post without laughing hysterically, so to the patrons of Austin Public Library, I do apologize for looking like a crazy person. Not that you haven’t seen your fair share of that anyway!

So I had this dream the other night that Jed Bartlet and John Boehner were going to go through with a wrestling match, and the winner’s budget would be automatically passed. This was to bypass the political logjam that Congress and the President had made. Never mind that in real life, the President is Barack Obama – no, in my subconscious mind, the perfect defender of Democratic ideals is, and will always be, Jed Bartlt.

As the contenders where walking to the ring (wearing silk robes and all), I saw a bald eagle sitting in a tree nearby, so I knew that the President would win. I then made my way over to where Tobey Ziegler was writing the a press release that CJ Cregg would release to the press before the fight began. As I was making my way over there, I started coming up with some perfect lines.

“As the economic situation in our country has become ever more precarious, and as the political infighting has made any progress impossible, our parties’ leaders have found a way to take the frustration and anger that the American people are feeling and put it to good use. This bout will determine our economic and political future, and will do so in a way that is free from haggling, secrecy or underhanded tactics.”

First of all, I wrote that in a freaking dream! As in to say, I was speech writing IN MY DREAMS!!! Second of all, it has clearly been to long since I saw a wrestling match, because a lack of underhanded tactics? Yeah right! Finally, I say again – I was speech writing in my sleep!

I passed on the new language to Tobey, who immediately loved it, placed it into the release, and handed the finished product to me to take to CJ. After I had deposited it into her hands, I walked back to watch the match, which is where Tobey found me again. He began to serenade me (“tea for two/ and two for tea/ me for you/ and you for me), and after the first few lines, we began to dance. I could feel his scratchy beard on my face, he was wearing his lovely trench coat. But I felt sad, because I was really in love with Joshua Lyman, and he wasn’t that into me.

I am sure that this dream has no deeper meaning than that I have a sick obsession with West Wing. But, seriously, I was WRITING IN MY SLEEP!!! How cool is that? Tobey has written in his sleep too. Maybe that’s why my subconscious thinks that we would be a better match than Joshua and I.

– Finch

So I married a tea-partier

My wi-fi was going completely haywire, and I couldn’t get the password to work to save my life, so I had to take drastic measures. I called my ex-husband. The last time we had texted, he had said that he didn’t think we should talk for the next few months because it “messed with [his] head.” Okay, whatever, I don’t have to talk to you or tell you how the dog which you left behind is doing. She’s much happier with me anyway. But when it comes to matters of technology, where even Time Warner Cable was unable to offer assistance, I had to reach out.

It started off well enough. “Hey, I hope this isn’t a bad time. The wi-fi is completely off the fritz, and I keep typing in the password and it’s telling me that it is incorrect. Do you remember what you set it as?” “Sure, I can help.” And he did. He figured out what the problem was, got everything squared away, even helped me set up a new password which would be easier for me to remember. But while we were waiting for everything to reset…

“I’m really disappointed that I voted for Obama.” Um, okay. “The first time or the second time?” Let me just add here, that we actually threw an Obama victory party after the first election. I should also note that I am a centrist Democrat. I voted for President Obama both times, I agree with 90% of his platform, and I had thought, with the exception of some gun laws, that my ex was on the same wave length with me. Ex comes from a gun-loving family, and he had made me more comfortable with them, but really, other than that, we used to see eye-to-eye.

“Well, the second time. He’s just completely trampling on the Constitution.” “How?” “Well he’s taking our guns away.” “Okay. Again, how?” “Well, he says that he’s going to sign all of these Executive Orders to take away our guns, and outlaw all but the most basic types of guns. Then he’s going to force us to get mental health checks.” “Well, I can see why you’re scared then, because you would most definitely not pass!” No, I didn’t really say that, but trust me, it is so freaking true. We then went on into a 20 minute conversation where he told me that he had military friends who were telling their commanding officers that they were not going to follow any of the President’s orders if he went through with these actions. Also, Ex had spoken to many police officers who said that they were just going to ignore any new gun laws, and Ex thought that was wonderful.

As I quietly sat there and listened to him prattle on, it occurred to me, some eleven months after our separation and a mere six months since our divorce, that I had no idea who this person was. This person who blasted the President for taking advantage of a national tragedy (“Don’t you think that he has the responsibility to respond to the shooting??” “No, he needs to work on the more important things, like stop taking all of our money.” “But you don’t work.” “That’s not the point!”) was so far removed from the man that I had married four and a half years earlier that I was suddenly uncomfortable talking about politics with him. I was always taught not to talk politics or money with strangers, and yet, here I was, doing that very thing.

We soon thereafter ended the call, and I went on with my day, but not without feeling a bit downtrodden. This was someone who I felt I had know better than my own self, who I had trusted with my innermost secrets and dreams, and who I had placed all of my trust and faith with, and I absolutely did not recognize who he was anymore. Do people really change that quickly? Or had this been who he was all along, and I had just ignored it? Either way, that is something which is going to be at the forefront on my next foray into dating.

Because, really, you like the idea of cops who ignore laws? What a dope!

– Finch