Dreamer and Realist

The 300-ring circus of my life…

Blogging A-Z: W April 26, 2011

Filed under: Blogging A-Z — Ms Dreamer @ 10:16 am

O yes, LDs. I’m going there.

#Winning

He he he. What are your thoughts on Charlie Sheen?
Does he really have Adonis DNA (um, maybe used to when he was younger and much hotter)?
Do you think he has Tiger Blood running through his veins (probably not).

Do you think he’s #winning?

No. Right now, he’s a massive train-wreck waiting to happen. And when it does, I might actually laugh.

I don’t feel sorry for celebutards who fuck up their lives: doing coke or whatever other drugs, alcohol, sex…all simply because “they can.” We as consumers allow them to do what they want, when they want.

Take a look at La Lohan. Bitch please. You need to keep your klepto ass at home so you don’t steal any more of people’s shit; stay in rehab to stay off the drugs and booze; and get a fucking acting job. I probably do actually have more talent than you, I just didn’t have the “great parents” you did. I think if Michael and Dina Lohan were my parents, I would have divorced them years ago. You were fabulous when you weren’t all cracked the fuck out.

And yet, we allow them to do what they do.

There are the true #winning stars: anyone who stays in the spotlight for their acting chops and NOT their panty-flashing, drug-abusing, whoring celebutard self.

Of course, if they were all like that, there wouldn’t be tabloid fodder. They’d just make up some other shit.

I’m #winning. Are you? 😉

Ms D

 

Blogging A-Z: V

Filed under: Blogging A-Z — Ms Dreamer @ 10:02 am

Unfortunately, I am at a loss for V.

Vindictive? Vivacious? Verisimilitude?

Le Sigh. How about I give you one of the most awesome monologues in movies (not the most awesome, but one of the most awesome)?

“Voilà! In view, a humble vaudevillian veteran, cast vicariously as both victim and villain by the vicissitudes of fate. This visage, no mere veneer of vanity, is a vestige of the vox populi, now vacant, vanished. However, this valorous visitation of a bygone vexation stands vivified, and has vowed to vanquish these venal and virulent vermin vanguarding vice and vouchsafing the violently vicious and voracious violation of volition. The only verdict is vengeance; a vendetta held as a votive, not in vain, for the value and veracity of such shall one day vindicate the vigilant and the virtuous. Verily, this vichyssoise of verbiage veers most verbose vis-à-vis an introduction, so let me simply add that it’s my very good honour to meet you and you may call me V.”

Dear Lord, that’s quite a few Vs.

Ms D

🙂

 

Blogging A-Z: U April 24, 2011

Filed under: Blogging A-Z — Ms Dreamer @ 7:22 pm

HA!

You thought that me, of all people, would pick Unique as the U word of the day.

Nope. Sorry fuckers! *roflmao*

I used to love unicorns. They were something that would have allowed me to be free to be myself. I used to color pictures like this all the time. Loved. It.

Wanted a winged one (an alicorn…or, according to Pliny, an Aethiopian Pegasi). Never got one. (boo)

They were just so majestic. When I rode horses, I’d often imagine a horn growing from his head and we’d fly off somewhere together to have fun.

Don’t get me wrong: I still love the unicorns. A couple of years ago, I found a book at a rummage sale called “A Glory of Unicorns” that was edited by Bruce Coville. Isn’t that just a great term for a group of unicorns? A Glory? Better than a murder of crows….

And not all of these stories are light and fluffy. Some of them get downright dark.

But I liken unicorns to dragons. They do exist.

For some of us lucky enough.

Ms D

 

Blogging A-Z: T

Filed under: Blogging A-Z — Ms Dreamer @ 7:14 pm

Teacher.

It’s what I wanted to be for a while. A teacher.

babble.com

I used to play in our basement, teaching invisible children. My sister never wanted to play school with me. 😛

I’d use my school books and paper. I’d make up names for my students – they were always normal names.

I imagined a chalkboard and desks and cupboards and coat hooks and everything else. I’d pretend hang their A+ work on the wall.

But now? I couldn’t deal with a bunch of brats who think the world revolves around them because their parents have made them believe it.

What did you want to be?

Ms D

 

Blogging A-Z: S

Filed under: Blogging A-Z — Ms Dreamer @ 7:09 pm

LDs, I want to be a princess.

zwani.com graphic

I think it would be fun. The reason that I chose S isn’t for Princess (um, like, duh…).

But for my name. The moniker that Mumsy saddled me with at birth.

Stephanie.

It’s of Greek origin (no smartass comments, please).

It means “the crowned one.” It’s the feminine form of Stephen.

Mumsy often called me Stevie when I was just a wee babe.

Of course, she almost named me Raven Montana. Really? Yeah.

Hey, if I was a boy, I’d have been Clinton Wayne for her two favorite heroes: Clint Eastwood and John Wayne.

I’m still a fucking princess, though.

Ms D

 

Blogging A-Z: R

Filed under: Blogging A-Z — Ms Dreamer @ 7:00 pm

I’m such a lame-o. I’ve been busy, so I’ve neglected you, my LDs. My most humble apologies.

R. Right.

You may ask why I call my husband Mr Realist. Because he is one.

Ya see, I am Ms Dreamer. I still wish for playground rules; he plays by his own because that’s what everyone else does.

I want the world to be fair, always knowing that it will never be; he accepts it for being unfair.

I like to see things with color and shades and personality; he sees most things in black and white (not because he’s color-blind…)

I dream of things that could be or should be; he sees things as they are.

And I love him for it.

Ms D

 

Blogging A-Z: Q April 20, 2011

Filed under: Blogging A-Z — Ms Dreamer @ 11:32 am

LDs, the letter for Tuesday is Q. I’ll do R (Wednesday’s letter) at lunch.

* from homeaway dot com via Google *

Something that I can be: quiet. (ye gods and holy fishes!)

I know, right?

But some days there’s nothing I love more than a silent house where I can sit in a comfy spot with a stack of books and a snack and something to drink, and the only sound is of my chewing and the turn of pages. I remember summers at Oma Dreamer’s where you might find me in a corner of the kitchen, in front of the air conditioner, on an old wooden stool, wrapped in a blanket with my snack and a couple of books or coloring books strewn all over the deep freeze, and I’d sit there for hours while Oma cleaned strawberries or peaches or apples or blackberries or made a cake; each of us working in our own element at peace.

Man, I miss those days. Since I’m off on Friday for Good Friday, I’m going to see if Oma wants to go with me to the SA in Edwardsville, just so I can spend the day with her. I loves my Oma.

Ms D