I recently had an experience that was so intense that I am unable to describe it in words. Words could never give the experience … visually or spiritually … the justice that it deserves.

Stuck inside my head …

When I see something so beautiful and extraordinary, I want to share it with the world. I want to weave a story that sucks a person into my imaginary universe. However, each attempt I make at trying to describe the experience, I water down the sheer beauty of the moment. Read more

As children, we are spoon fed fairy tales. This world of fantasy and make-believe becomes our reality as we listen closely waiting to find out what happens to the lady in distress. Read more

As I sat in the OR waiting for my shift to end, I tried to picture what my life would look like in 10 years. Would I be a nurse coming home to a husband and kids? Would I be back in school pursuing another career … maybe a 4th or 5th? I was amazed to find that no images came to mind. 

After several attempts to pull alternate realities from my mind, I decided that it would be easier if I started by eliminating careers that I will not have in the next 10 years.

Unless a miracle happens, I will never be …

1. a midget wrestler
2. a greyhound racing dog
3. a teenage prostitute
4. a male porn star
5. the Queen of England 
6. the president of the NAACP
7. an Indian chief
8. a monk
9. a ninja
10. the Toxic Avenger

As disappointing as all of that may sound, I did conclude that I do not hate my job. That’s right! For the first time in my life, the grass is greener on my side. Maybe a nurse will be the right career for me afterall …

To be continued in 10 years …

When I grow up …

I am not alone in the mermaid fantasy. Thousands of little girls watched “Splash” in 1984. We were glued to the television as Daryl Hannah walked through the streets of New York City. We kept hoping to catch a glimpse of her naked body, but her long blonde hair shielded our innocent eyes.

By the end of the movie, each and every little girl was with me drooling over the thought that one day we too could be mermaids.

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Intelligence leads to unhappiness …

As we age, we gain more knowledge and wisdom. This intelligence blocks our ability to enjoy life. It interferes with our creativity, our dreams, our fantasies …

The more we fill our heads with facts and figures the more we limit the powers of our imagination. It becomes harder and harder to float effortlessly on a cloud.

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I know what I want to be when I grow up …

I gave it some serious thought and consideration. In reality, the decision may have only taken about 10 minutes; however, my mind was moving in slow motion trying to grasp every detail of my new life.

It was strange …

I was sitting in my office thinking about the beloved Navarre “Butt Stabber.” My mind drifted and before I knew it a light bulb appeared above my head. A string dangled from the bulb and smacked me in the eye.

A note was attached to the string with the words “pull me” written in blood. What was a girl to do? I pulled the string.

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If I could float through life on a giant cloud, I would get my amusement by looking down on the Earth. From my space in the sky, I would watch all of the tiny people running through life with their eyes glued to the thousands of ticking clocks that control their days.

Unfortunately, I do not sit in the driver’s seat of my own life and am forced to take a backseat to the cloud fantasy.

I am often told that I am a dreamer. I think that calling someone a dreamer is a nice way of saying that I set my standards too high and fail to enjoy the real world. Yes, I guess that is true in a way. I can’t really say I blame myself. I look at all of the people around me juggling with time. Are they really happy or are they just pretending? No matter how they choose to fill their days, time will still get the best of them.

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In a world that continues to evolve, I often long for a moment I can control. This moment is mine each time I get behind the wheel of my car.

The smell of cheap plastic …

More than a decade ago, the ticket to freedom was handed to me by a clerk in the driver’s license bureau in Huntsville. I did not realize it at the time, but this woman was equipping me with a beautiful gift. Instead, I saw it as a right of passage. I did not want to drive.

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If I animated my dream diary, it would be a very colorful book filled with images of dragons, leprechauns, fairies and dancing hot dogs. Headless chickens would dance on clouds and sing Robert Palmer songs. Frogs would grow wings and fly through the sky slurping up monkeys bathing in my bathtub. Chipmunks would travel through time and eat relish from trees alongside dinosaurs and roaming wilderness beasts.

Yes, it would be very colorful indeed, but that is not the point of this blog …

For minutes of every morning, I have to spend some time returning to reality. Having spent the last hours of my night completely raveled in dreams of terror, I am instantly angry with the people who have haunted my dreams. After 20 or so minutes, I am fully aware of my surroundings and realize that my dreams were in fact only dreams. However, this does not change the fact that I have to apologize to those I may have offended in the 20 minutes when I could not tell reality from fantasy.

Once reality resumes, I return to my normal routine day where imagination plays very little role, and I am forced to think about numbers and results.

A lot of folks wish for more imagination, but not me. Truthfully, I am fearful of mine.

So, back to the numbers and giant babies surfing on business cards holding melting pacifiers and jumping paperclips.