Cuddlesaurus Rex!

*please note that the above painting was made by Tom O' Hare, owner of the Stagedoor Cabaret and Coffee house in Mt. Shasta, CA. I used to work there and it was so much fun!*

Cuddlesaurus Rex

A Children's Book

by: Nitya Prem

Mirabelle has a secret... and it's a whopper, but I bet you won't believe me yet. Mirabelle is seven years old and she has an imaginary friend named Snoozle. She still believes in her imaginary friend because he's not imaginary at all, he's very real and has feelings just like you or me.

Peter had an imaginary goat. His name was Mr. Eatsitall. Peter was always very good at naming things. Mr. Eatsitall was definitely Peter's favorite friend because he always ate all the squash that Peter thought was yucky. He lived in the planter by the dinner table. One day Peter's mom told him that he had to eat all his squash so he could grow up big and strong. Peter's mom told him that imaginary friends aren't real and Mr. Eatsitall did not live in the planter and did not eat his squash. Peter's mom told him that she was tired of throwing away squash that she found in the planter every night after dinner. Peter believed her. Now he has to eat all of his squash and Mr. Eatsitall won't speak to him anymore.

Sally's imaginary friend, Tobbs is a flying snake. Tobbs was very good at flying way up high and warning Sally if there were bullies nearby. One day he didn't see the bullies and Sally ran straight into them. She told the bullies that she had a flying snake who would protect her and hiss in their face. The bullies told her that Tobbs wasn't real and threw all her schoolbooks on the ground. The bullies stomped on them and told Sally that she was a silly baby and that imaginary friends are only pretend. Sally believed them and Tobbs stuck his big ol' snake tongue straight out at Sally, hissed and flew away.

I know that Tobbs is still up in the sky flying around and looking for bullies to hiss at. I also know that imaginary friends go away if their child stops believing in them. Would you want to stick around your best friend if they stopped believing in you? I sure wouldn't. I only speak to people who know that I'm real.

Mirabelle, though not as popular as the other kids, was much smarter. That's often the case in elementary school, smart kids get picked on and then they grow up and make lots of friends who are also smart and live very happy lives. The reason Mirabelle is so much more intelligent is that she knows that her imaginary friend is not imaginary at all. Mirabelle knows, all the way down to her toes, that Snoozle is real. He is very real, very loud, very big and then he's even bigger! He's so big, in fact, that Mirabelle sleeps on him every night.

Instead of a bed, Mirabelle is lucky enough to have her own dinosaur friend. Snoozle is of an extremely rare breed of dinosaur. Snoozle is a Cuddlesaurus Rex! I bet you've never heard of a Cuddlesaurus before, and that's ok. Because grown-ups haven't discovered them yet... Or they did and keep confusing them with Tyrannosaurus Rex, who looks much the same but is not as nice and also kinda dumb. T-Rexes have really big heads, but their brain is only the size of a peanut. That's why they're mean, like bullies. Bullies' brains are also the size of a peanut... or a pistachio.

The other really big difference between a Cuddlesaurus and a Tyrannosaurus is that Cuddlesaurus Rexes don't have any scales at all, they have patches. Snoozle, for example has a very comfortable quilted belly. His whole underside is soft and plush and perfect for sleeping. I think Mirabelle has almost the best bed in the whole, wide, world! Sleeping on top of a dinosaur can be really noisy. Nobody knows how to snore like Snoozle. Nobody.

Mirabelle likes Snoozle's snores- they remind her of the ocean waves crashing on the shore and send her straight to sleep every night, snug and sound. The only problem with sleeping on top of a very big and very noisy dinosaur named Snoozle who snores is that Mirabelle's parents sometimes think it's her. They will wake up in the middle of the night and yell from their beds, "Mirabelle, please stop making so much noise. We're trying to sleep!" Mirabelle, of course, cannot hear anything over Snoozle's snores; especially when she's sleeping. Snoozle, hears them though.

Whenever Snoozle hears Mirabelle's parents shouting, he turns over on his side so that he will stop snoring. When Snoozle turns on his side, so do the blankets, and the pillows and the sheets, and Mirabelle. She falls off every time and her parents hear all the noise and yell again, "PLEASE stop making that ruckus! We're trying to sleep!" Mirabelle doesn't mind so much, she loves her parents and she loves Snoozle no matter what. Mirabelle gets up, bundles all the blankets and the pillows the sheets and snuggles up with her Cuddlesaurus Rex. When they are all cozy again, then they both go back to sleep... On their sides.

Maybe one day Mirabelle might stop believing in her imaginary friend, maybe one day Snoozle will forget about his child friend, but I don't think that will happen. I know for a fact that Mirabelle is older now. I know that Mirabelle is almost a grown-up. I also know Mirabelle has a crush on a boy named Patrick. He still believes in his imaginary friend. I know this for a fact because I am Patrick's imaginary friend and my name is Winky. I also, just happen, to be a Cuddlesaurus Rex and I can't wait to meet Snoozle!

The End

and

Goodnight

A Friendly Wager...

09.25.09

I currently have a bet going on amongst 9 of my friends and I. It was my boyfriend’s idea and after discussing it with our compatriots at the Night Light (one of our favorite hang outs in Portland) we ironed out all the little details and settled on this:
Each of us is to pick what we think is the very worst movie we can find. So as to avoid things like 6 hour student films following the life of microbes, we limited it to movies that can be found inside a Blockbuster store- not online, a physical store, in the Portland area.
Each participant bets a whole ten dollars on their movie, the lucky winner gets a whopping jackpot of $100!

One might ask, what defines the worst movie? Obviously not any B (or even C) horror films like Bog Creatures, these have proven entertainment value- at least you can laugh at them, right? We’re talking about true mediocrity here, the movies that put you right to sleep (although, that could be a good thing if you’re an insomniac), the movies that make you shrug your shoulders in cold, cold indifference that make you think, “Who is responsible for this piece of shit, this complete waste of resources? I’d rather stare at my popcorn ceiling for two hours than ever again watch this tripe!” That kind of movie.

The next problem was, how to watch so many horrible movies without becoming biased? We figured we’d first give everyone two weeks to pick their movie, during which time, nobody is allowed to discuss their choice. Afterward, we’ll get together and watch two movies a week over the next five weeks. That way, we don’t have to watch more than one monstrosity a night. After we watch each movie, we’ll vote independently. No-one is allowed to vote for the film they selected.
At the end of the very last movie, we’ll all probably get together, view the results and get some drinks.

Also, we’ll be rating each one on a 1-10 scale.

This evening I watched Kevin Costner’s truly epic movie, The Postman, for the very first time. Honestly, there were a couple moments when I seriously considered picking it as my entry into our friendly little bet. Unfortunately, we’d probably have too good a time making fun of it, thus nixing it from my list of possibilities… Ce’st la vie!

bad.seeds

09.22.09

Right-O.
There are some people, that no matter how much you love them, disappoint you every time. I try and try so hard, I think, “Well, I do believe I got rid of my last expectations of said person. No WAY I’ll be upset again because of expectations not being met. I expect nothing and will only be happy when they’re around because without any expectations, I can’t be disappointed, right? Right!” and then out of nowhere I’m sad again.
There are some people who will always disappoint… When they’re not surprising you delightfully with unexpected little nuggets of their golden personality.

Still, so sad.

I don’t think it’s healthy to NOT expect anything from anyone. I feel that in doing so, I’m giving up on some sacred hope in humanity that I’m not ready to let go of, just yet. I think that sometimes people should be expected to be steadfast. I feel in not expecting anything of others, that you’re dishonoring them, because, well… I just do.

I feel good when people tell me they know they can rely on me for such and such. I feel good when people come over to my house for dinner and expect a delicious meal. I feel that when someone expects something of you, it’s a good thing, because it shows a strength in character that has already been proven. I would not like to be a blank slate all of the time. I want to play host to other’s expectations of me and sometimes fail, in the knowledge that doing so has given me room to grow.

But if there’s nothing there but room to grow, than what is there, really? A seed that doesn’t start is no good at all. A seed that doesn’t start disintegrates into dirt when planted, all the sunshine and water in the world won’t make a bad seed grow.

My growth may be choppy, I might have stunted in the frost and not borne as much fruit as one would hope… But I still stretch for that sunshine and soak in the rain.

I don’t want to cry over spent seeds anymore, I’d really like to watch my flowers grow.

My Lonely, Invisible, Dream

06.16.09

Yesterday was really rough… I’m not sure why exactly, I mean, I suppose I have my reasons but my reasons make me feel like I’m self-centered or wallowing in my own little self-pity party. But I suppose everyone needs the allowance of understanding sometimes, even from oneself.

I’ve been feeling a little lonely lately, disappointed in my friends. I found a guy (G) and it was a nice transition with minimal “No, I can’t do that tonights.” It seems that without really doing anything myself, I’ve been labeled by my friends as… In boyfriend land. Which has resulted in so many less invitations to go do stuff. Now, I do spend a fair amount of time with the G, but not enough to warrant being brushed off by those dear to me. It makes me really sad and I spent so much of yesterday on the verge of tears alone in my house while my G was at work and I felt so ignored.

I think part of this comes from the fact that I had so very few friends growing up. Being raised by wandering hippies, I didn’t spend a whole year in the same school from 2nd until 8th grade. That’s six years of going to at least 2, sometimes 4 schools a year. I did not have time to make friends. Additionally, I was raised by hippies, always the, “new girl” and relentlessly teased by my classmates. They’d sometimes spend an entire recess chasing me around the schoolyard, calling me names and throwing things at me. I learned to run really fast as a little girl!

Last night I had a bad dream. It started off well enough, battling forces of evil and whatnot- that’s what I usually do in my dreams, save people; this would probably be my Messiah Complex acting up, but that’s a story for another day which probably (coincidentally) coincides with me being picked on all the time growing up.

Anyhoo, I was riding around the park/bar with a my best friend, two other ladies and some guy and we were all talking to eachother… kinda. More like they were all talking and I was being ignored. They’d say something and I’d have a response to contribute and they’d just kinda look at me and then continue on with whatever it was they were talking about. At one point, I had some glorious pearl of a little story that related so well with what they were discussing and I tried to tell them. Every time I’d only get the first sentence out before they’d start talking over me again and I was seemingly invisible.

–Note: Seemingly invisible is bad for a Leo… There are few worse things for such natural borne leaders/gregarious types than to feel completely ignored… Seriously, just about the worst thing ever.

To continue, this happened about four times, me trying to join my friends in conversation and each time, them going on about their business without me. I got exceedingly frustrated, got out of the cart without anybody noticing and went to our favorite bar in the park on this series of patios surrounded by lush greenery. One side of the main patio ended in a wall of lustrous hanging vines with leaves and soft flowers, it was an amazing sight. Cornering the wall of foliage, was a bar that ran the length of the Patio and it seems that we were regulars there. Adjoining the aforementioned patio was a smaller one a couple steps down, with a little table.

The trio, my best friend and some guy got there just behind me, clamored out of the golf-cart looking car-amajig and proceeded to the bar, where there was a photographer waiting for all of us to do a photo-shoot. Well, It turns out I was invisible again because the photographer collected them all up, dressed them in such pretty clothes and started shooting everyone except me. I went up to try and make my presence known but they just gave me dirty looks and ignored me again.

Feeling slighted yet again, I figured I’d just go home when I ran into a friend from my comedy troupe. He was pretty busy, but had the time to chat with me a little on my way off and that helped me feel a little better, but I was till deeply hurt by the mean looks and uncaring behavior of my best friend.

When I woke up this morning I curled up into my lover’s arms and recounted to him my dream. “Looks like your dealing with some friend issues.” I look up, wide-eyed and still a little sleepy, moan a, “yeeeaahh.” and nestled into his warmth again.

With all the acquaintances and friends I’ve made since I got out of high school I sometimes forget that I was a very lonely little girl. She’s still there inside and sometimes she comes out and I spend a day crying for her. Mostly I am writing this so she’ll leave me alone (how ironic) today and I can just sit and paint and be productive without feeling that (unwarranted?) sense of self pity.

So guys and gals, oh friends of mine- I just want to let you know that you’re really important to me and I very much love you…

Pack it up, pack it in, let me begin...

03.16.09

I have not been living in the luxurious (ha!) Western Rooms apartments for an entire month now.

I almost miss living above the three most fantastic bars in downtown Portland. I really miss my cozy little cave in the sky. I miss my kitchen OH so much, it is packed away in boxes half at one house and half in another. I also miss my wall-hangings and altar, the books, the mass of creativity immediately available to my curious fingers in my little art-nook. I have been staying at a friend’s house and as they are so gracious for letting me use their couch- I have no real complaints.

I’ve been working so hard toward unemployment that the not receiving such and still no job has been pretty brutal on my happy-go-lucky psyche. I was talking to my father in tears over said situation and he says to me, “Are you still on birth-control? I think you should stop that because it is making you overly emotional.” POO on that, I say. I have let my parental unit know that the anti-baby medication really has nothing to do with it. Also, I seem to be dealing with things pretty well, given circumstance and I am absolutely allowed to break down and cry during said time of change…. so take that!

p.s. I did taxes. I will get monies back, which can be used to rent a room in a lovely communal housing arrangement. So, if anybody out there would like to rent a room to this wonderfully qualified (did I mention I love to cook?), vivacious and generally happy-go-lucky person (me!)… both of my friends will be eternally grateful and momentarily indebted to your oh-so-kind soul.