This sounds weird, but it's true. My twelve year old self, along with The Sister, were stalking Ray Liotta last night in my dreams. I'm meant to be elsewhere right now, but there was a key mix-up, so I'm missing The Sisters' aromatherapy class. The first one I'll have missed since she began them two years ago. But, I digress. Because I'm not there, you get a dream post. So, yeah, I dig Ray Liotta. I think he's a swell actor. Those new Chantix commercials are weird; so was the Goodfellas/commercial mash up. It was better than the real commercial, but it was still weird. I've seen a lot of things he's been in, even when I didn't know he'd have a bit role in whatever film, and that was always a nice surprise.
Do I moon over him and get all swoony? No. Well, not since I was a pre-teen. I think he's a good looking guy, but I'm not all fangirling him or anything. But, yes, long ago that was a completely different story. We went to see A Field of Dreams in the theatre when it came out. I was eight. When Shoeless Joe Jackson was first on the screen, my little girl heart fell in love. I didn't know the actors name, but at school I drove my friends crazy by constantly talking about Shoeless Joe Jackson. Most of my friends had seen the film and none of them were impressed by the 'old guy'. If any of them had a crush on one of the characters it was the Doctor when he's a kid. And they were all sad that he chose to to leave the field to be old. Seriously that was their take away? That the hot, young guy chose to be old. I might have only been eight, but even I realized he chose to be a doctor and it was a touching and poignant moment in the story. But I suppose when you're eight, it's old guys vs not and the nots always win out in conversation. When Corrina, Corrina came out I was thirteen. I still didn't bother learning the actors name, even though he was one of the main stairs. So, he was still Shoeless Joe Jackson until I made my dad rent Goodfellas later that year, after I'd turned fourteen. Then I learned his name. My dad wasn't very good at choosing young girl appropriate films, but it worked out for me. Case in point. Seven year olds shouldn't watch Hot To Trot and thirteen year olds probably shouldn't continuously rent Alive. If you're unsure that's the story of the Uruguayan rugby team who crash landed in the Andes and had to resort to cannibalism in order to survive. He allowed me to rent Heat when I was fifteen. See? Not very good at the parenting of a young girl thing, but I digress as none of those last films pertain to Ray Liotta. So, while I've seen films with him since I was thirteen, that's about the age that my raging little girl crush stopped. I haven't watched a film with him in it in a few years and there've been no mentions. The last commercial I saw was a month ago, yet I dreamt about him. I don't think I've ever dreamt about him and if I did it wasn't worth remembering. In the dream there was some coffee house/small super market and I wanted to purchase something. Didn't have the money so left and went to get it. Came back, they didn't have the item. Left was told they had the item, but I didn't have the money. My dreams have been like this for weeks. Back and forth work. Once I was rescuing cats from a building and kept having to rescue the same cats over and over again. Another night we packed up all our belongings and moved them to an old timey Gypsy caravan wagon. Then we packed up and moved it all to another place, just to pack up and move back home. So, all of that super market/item/money rigamarole is going on and it's dark out. This time The Sister is heading back to the business with me. We're about to cross the street and out of a white, unmarked van steps Ray Liotta. The way he looks now. I stop and say, "Damn... he still looks good." like I've known him and haven't seen him in years in this dream "reality". The Sister looks at me like I'm crazy, but I just shrug because it's true. Then she says I should tell him I still love him, but I can't do that. We used to talk and he was always nice, but I can't tell him that. She leaves me standing in the middle of the street, but I'm hovering over the scene, 'cause ya know, dream land and all. She says, "Mr. Liotta?.." "Yeah, look I'm sorry, but I'm busy." "This will only take a moment. You don't know me, but you know my little sister." and suddenly I feel weird and different. He responds to her with a sigh, "Yeah, who's that?" it's at this point that I realize I'm twelve years old in some dress I used to own, still standing in the middle of the street, no longer my current age self in normal clothes. The Sister continues, "She has a message for you. Mabel..." "Mabel's your sister! Is she alright?! Where is she?!?" I start thinking, 'Mabel...? That's not my name. Wait.. is it? I'm... Mabel?'. The Sister interjects, "She's not well Mr. Liotta. She needs your help." "Take me to her", he responds. Only now I'm not in the middle of the street anymore and I'm thinking 'I'm not well? I thought I was well? Oh, he's sooo pretty!' and I realize I'm hiding behind the van and watching him walk to the middle of the street. The Sister disappears and Little Ill Mabel is all forgotten so he comes back to the van and I keep watching him from afar and swooning. Then I wake up. Now that I'm awake, I'll grant that there is a Mabel in the book I'm reading, she's not a main character and I haven't read from her in a few readings as it's all the other characters, so I'm sure that's how the name got stuck in my brain. But what about being ill and what the hell is with all the "Mr. Liotta" stuff, because I don't know him and if I talk about a film he's been in I say, "Ray Liotta." Not Ray, not Mr., but his full name. It's what I do with all celebrities so one knows who you're talking about; unlike my mother who starts conversations with, "Oh you'll never guess what Colin (or insert Harrison or Hugh or Jack (Johnny Depp is never Johnny but always Jack as in Jack Sparrow), etc) did the other day!" "Who the hell is Colin?" "Colin Firth (and she gives a blank stare because why don't I know that?), so I saw him in an interview..." And I've thought about the whole young girl love thing and I can honestly say that I no longer have those pre-teen feelings for the man. He doesn't even make me go all giddy and googly faced like John Stamos does. Oh my god, y'all. I, along with millions of other young girls, had THE biggest crush on Uncle Jessie. But when I first saw him again after all those years, I guess it was 2010 or 2012, woah! That man is so gorgeous it should be a crime. I didn't think Uncle Jessie could get any better looking than what he looked like all young in the late 80s and early 90s, but I was wrong. If I see a picture of him now, or see him in something, I get hearts for eyes and my head bends down towards my shoulder and my mouth goes all wavy, I'm sure, like a peanuts gang character. The epitome of a twelve year old seeing her gorgeous celebrity crush basically. I also slightly giggle. I am not much of a girly giggler. I'll guffaw and belly laugh and give a slightly amused chuckle. But I'm years beyond the days of getting wobbly legs and a contorted face because some guy is beautiful. It's like this involuntary response. Apparently my brain sends the command for me to go stupid every time I see his face. It's amusing, sort of, but also annoying. Yeah, so I may have been that way about Ray Liotta when I was eight and twelve and in between, but he doesn't make me go stupid anymore. Not for a long, long time. He is good looking and still is, but I'm sorry he's got nothing on John Stamos. Like really. No man should be that beautiful. Did he sell his soul to be that beautiful? It's also a little alarming because should somebody look that perfect? Anyways, yes I'm gushing over him, but I'm not in love with him. Oh-ho, I was! I was totally in little girl love with Uncle Jessie. I won't deny it. But, I never fantasized about marrying or dating him... as his character or himself (like all the other girls I knew). No. He just made me go stupid, and well, he still does. I still don't fangirl him or anything, he just pops up, unbeknownst to me, from time to time in this show or that and then I'm all stupid and he's pretty and it's awkward and I don't like being the girl that goes stupid over a pretty boy. But, I have no idea why I keep having repetitious dreams which leave me feeling tired, nor do I have any idea why I was stalking one of my little girl crushes last night. I think I threw a toy plushie cat at him and some fruit. Like I didn't hit him, I just threw them towards him. Well the plushie hit him, but not the fruit. It wasn't one of those "get off the stage!" with fruit hitting the person and going splat. Still, what the hell?! Just for the record. While I hope to never meet John Stamos, because we all know he'll think I'm some weird, dotty fangirl with facial problems, because you know if a photo or film makes me go stupid, then standing in front of him... well, what if I drooled or something equally humiliating? It wouldn't go well, I'm sure. But, I can assure all of you that I'm not the type to stalk celebrities or throw things at them or be weird. I'm of the mind set that they're people out doing their normal people things. I don't like when random strangers strike up conversations with me or stare, so I don't do that with people, celebrity or not. I might get excited and think, 'Hey, it's ____________, I like them in films, that's cool I saw them out!' and if The Sister weren't with me, I'd also be thinking, 'I'm totally going to tell The Sister when I get home!' But stalk them or leer at them? I don't think so. It's just not me. If I were wearing my big girl panties and they seemed at ease like they wouldn't mind someone coming up and saying. "Hey _________ I like you in films." or something not so stupid (but probably just as stupid, who am I kidding. The words elude me a lot of the time). Then I might, might do that. I might ask for an autograph. But, more than likely, just not. On all of it. Example. Character actor Gary Grubbs lives in my city now. He's from this state, but not this area originally. I like him in films. Especially the first X-Files Film because of him saying all southern, "But wut about mai mEEEN!" He's the fire chief and all the firefighters went into that cave in Texas and never came back out again. So he just whines that line a couple of times. You might know him as Will's boss from the first season of Will and Grace (not the reboot). That girls' dad on Angel. Is her name Winifred? Anyways, so The Sister and I will sometimes see him out. The movie theatre twice and just recently at the post office. We see him, I think we probably go a little stupid, because we're both thinking, "It's a celebrity. It's Gary Grubbs. But wut about mai mEEEEN!" You can see how that might make us slightly giddy looking when we see him and then we try not to notice him. It was the same at the post office. We heard this southern twang that's not from around these parts yet sounded oddly familiar. He had answered the "Hello, how are you?" from the postal clerk. We turn around and it's him. We smile, probably oddly, then turn around and try not to notice the elephant in the room. We're not the only one's. All the other southerners in the line have noticed him (even if they've not seen him in things, word got around quick that he was a film star after he moved here, so most people here know of him, even if they didn't before), and are trying desperately not to bother him. The Sister and I left and once outside we both said the line and laughed a little. Don't get me wrong, we're not making fun of him. We like him because of that line. It's endeared us to him as an actor and now we like when he pops up in films and telly shows. Anyways. Weird dreams. I wish my car key wasn't on my dad's key ring in the center console of my moms car, which The Sister took to work/class. I even noticed it in there when I was fishing around for quarters and thought, 'There's something important about this no?' but dropped them back into the console. It was only after I'd gotten ready to go out did I remember the delimma of the keys and my stupidity at not realizing I needed to retrieve them this morning. But what are ya gonna do?
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AuthorA girl from South Mississippi who finds herself in exploration. Archives
November 2019
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