The Perfect Kiss

Nobody's Perfect:



Reading is my “gentle madness” so to speak, and I’ve been missing it. As any madman will tell you, if you have the time, try to read more than one thing at once, and in different viewpoints. They tell you to do this in physical fitness too. Vary your exercise routines daily to get the most benefit. So this morning I read a bit in two books: Liberal Fascism by Jonah Goldberg, and Slander by Ann Coulter.

I haven’t read Ann in some time, but I did notice that her writing has soared…she leaps over the Grand Canyon now…she is in a Lear Jet of the alpha zone. Nevertheless, her ideas are always the same. She protects President Bush with a hot-white light saber, attacks liberals with a much admired vengeance, and there you go.

She protects a “party.” And I, like many Americans, are tired of them. I’m tried of all the parties…every single one invented by man. I want Disney to run the world, but Epcot was taken over long ago. Camelot existed for a book sale.

So far, as much as the conservative side is winning in logic, in action we are pretty lame. Not really our fault, but that’s another blog.

Jonah’s book is a lesson in “isms” and a wonderful lesson in political thinking, but as I was trying to take it all in, my mind kept going back to my dream from last night….

And I can’t get that dream off my mind. Don’t you just hate when that happens?

It’s all about: The Kiss.

You see, I saw this video on Dave Barry’s blog some time ago. One click and there was a cat playing piano (with the help of an invisible human) and the song was Hall and Oats classic hit, “You Make My Dreams Come True.”

In the beginning of the video, there is an extract from some film, noting from the “shag” haircut on the guy, probably from the seventies. The guy is trying to entice the young girl, played by Helen Hunter, to try cocaine.

And then he keeps kissing her, gently, and then, more, with passion…and I can’t get that “kiss” off my mind.

I have never, ever, in my life, been kissed like that, and I probably never will. But, gee--- just once would be nice.

Of course to me, it was an exercise in…what exactly is the difference in men and women’s dreams?

Their REAL desires?

Men, as every woman knows, dream nightly about naked women, and sex. It doesn’t matter if they are married, single, divorced, or whatever…they never tell those dreams to women. This is a smart move. We all know this fact, but we never, ever talk about it because men would probably cease to exist. Too many women would become fatal attractions, learning how to deal with kitchen knives in clever ways.

But, I doubt very seriously if any man dreamed about, “The Kiss.”

But what’s in a kiss? To a woman: a lot. They want the “you are my only desire” kiss.

That’s the one they want. It’s the “proof.” And I’m not talking about the hour long kissing session. There is a big difference. This kiss is done with the “mind.”
Now, before I go on...just in case you haven’t figured it out by now, I am extremely insecure about most everything. I stumble though life, as if being hit by one car accident after another, only to wake up and go, “Huh? Where am I?”

I am always suspicious of people who have great unrelenting confidence, because I figure they are either not thinking, or a bit deranged, but these people are always in charge. (I’m setting you up when you start to analyze my dream, as you will.)

And in my dreams, I always beat myself up. It’s my natural proclivity so to speak…leave me alone. It’s in my DNA. Or according to Lee Salk, it’s because my mother thought I was “food” after I was born and due to her almost having died, she kept saying “No…take it away!” every time the nurse brought me in. She came off the drugs three days later, but it was too late, I was permanently damaged.

Thanks Lee, for that wonderful insight that I didn’t need. (Lee left the planet many years ago, but I still talk to him for fun.)

Anyway: Here’s the dream: I find out that Dave Barry, the author, is going to be visiting at a library, and SOMEHOW, I manage to get him to come over to visit me in my basement.

I want---- “The Kiss.”

Dave reluctantly comes over, and brings…a big bag full of jigsaw puzzles for us to pass the time.

Really, only in dreams.

He also has a small boy with him, his son. (He has a young daughter, so that’s strange.) Puzzles can take weeks; I have only a few hours at best.


Not good.

In the meantime, upstairs, my teenage son is having a big party, and I’m having to go up and make sure everything is not destroyed…running up and down the stairs I say, “I’ll be right back, DON’T GO AWAY!” (My son had a lot of parties when he was a teenager, and any parent that has survived such a thing knows exactly what I’m talking about.)

So, back down the stairs, and I’ve gotten Mr. Barry’s attention for a short time, and so I figure, I’ll just lean over and try it, since he wasn’t about to kiss me anytime soon.

“Yuk!” “Lipstick!” he cries, and makes an awful face.

Well----that went well.

Also, in my dream, I think, no wonder he's repulesd..‘I’m much too fat for him’. As you know, a woman can be even two pounds overweight and they are much too fat.

I’ve been too fat since I was ten. (Not really, but there you go.)

If I told this dream to my husband, I can honestly say, it would not upset him in the least. The secrets he holds in his “dreams” would probably not go over too well. Some men, like Glenn Beck or Jimmy Carter, admit the lust they carry daily, and figure it has nothing to do with their love for their wives.

And they are probably right. Men can compartmentalize.

Men have this advantage, and they know it. That’s why they think women run the world, because women have this hold over their libido, and women on the other hand can take the libido thing, or leave it.

But a man who kisses like that guy in that video…? He’d have to beat me off.

But, here’s a warning to men. You might want to rethink that “kiss.” Not just the prelude to get the means, but the real deal.

As the song says,

Does he love me,
I wanna know…
How can I tell if he loves me so?

“Is it in his eyes?” Oh no, you’d be deceived
“Is it in his eyes?” Oh no, you’d make believe
If you wanna know, if he loves you so, it’s in his kiss.

And that’s my Nobody’s Opinion: which might change tomorrow.
And since Nobody’s Perfect: I’m staying off the Melatonin tonight.