In Awe of Mothers

I have to say, I wasn't really considering myself in the same group as the, well, since I'm on a roll with the term, "Rockstars" that we call Mothers on this annual holiday. But I was touched to receive several well-wishes, e-mails and even honest-to-goodness Hallmark and homemade cards for "Pregnant Women on Mothers' Day". So thank you to all who are thinking of this Mother-to-Be who looks forward to having a 6-month old next Mothers' Day. (!)

Last night Nate and I had dinner with friends at their house while they/she did an amazing job at juggling all the moving pieces involved in entertaining a clueless childless couple like us with thoughtful and witty conversation, preparing a delicious meal that I can't WAIT to get the recipe for, caring for their 3 1/2 and 1 1/2 year old daughters with their varied interests, appetites, and bedtimes, and still having enough energy to sit up and chat with us for another couple hours after the last kid was in bed. Christine, if I was not carrying my end of the conversation, it's because I was just taking it all in. In awe.

I think I'm just beginning to develop an appreciation for motherhood with a perspective I couldn't have had 10 or 20 years ago. All I really knew of what it means to be a mother was by watching and living with my mom, who always seemed to know the answer to everything, the best way to solve any problem, and made sure our physical and emotional needs were met and then some. It seemed a given that she was just born a SuperMom, with everything inside of her all ready to go. Yeah, she'd told me stories of when she was a kid, and a teenager, and a young woman. And there were pictures around to prove it. But the core of me still felt like she was just born a Mom.

But over the past few years, I've seen friends, family, peers MY AGE, and believe it or not, even younger than me, become mothers. Regular people, fun girls, crafting goddesses, that transformed into mothers. And they, too, all seem to be SuperMoms of their households. Answering questions, solving problems, attending to physical and emotional needs. I can't imagine any of them navigated that transition from Regular Person to Mother without, pardon my frankness, shitting a few bricks in the process. That's what I'll tell myself anyway, because I just did while merely thinking about it.

But I guess you just figure it out as you go, right ladies? My mom always said "You girls didn't come with instruction books!" Well you could have fooled me, Mom, even as your "guinea pig" first kid. That's the other amazing thing about moms. Even though you're just faking it till you make it, your kids are none the wiser. They still think you know it all.

So, my hats off to mothers. I'm humbled to think that by the end of this year I will join your ranks.

On the subject of time marching on, I'm including an updated belly pic. I seriously thought I wouldn't notice much of a difference, but comparing this to the 9 week pic helped me see the difference.














So, okay, maybe it IS a little more than just mac'n'cheese in my belly... I've been ever so slowly easing out of the "maybe it's just my imagination that the waistbands feel tighter" facade that was so comfortable before. I think things are going to start looking a little more real soon!

This also leads me into my next topic of gifts received thus far. In addition to thoughtful cards, e-mails, blog comments and well-wishes, we've also begun receiving GIFTS for our growing family. For Mothers' Day, my favorite Mother-In-Law gave me The Belly Book to help document the joys of being pregnant, complete with places to put weekly belly pic updates, and ultrasounds. LOVE it. Completed the first trimester section in 2 days. I guess I like to write. :)

We also got a couple of children's books from Aunt Punchy. Really, she's a nice person, she just has a scary sounding nickname. My Father the Dog and Mommy Mine. Adorable books. Love that we have started a reading library.

A co-worker of mine gave us a very lovable stuffed-animal frog for Baby at our 12-week mark. It has black and white eyes, which are what infants can see early on (the black and white contrast). Too cute.

Another co-worker gave us a diaper bag specifically made to hang on the back of a stroller. It's black, very utilitarian looking, very even-Daddy-won't-mind-carrying-this looking. PERfect.

I know I also mentioned previously that Nate's cousins Jen and Kate so generously lent me their maternity clothes. SUCH a huge help in saving money in what should be known as one of the most ridiculously overpriced markets out there: fashionable clothes for women desperate to wear anything that does not involve large ducks and bows.
Today I washed and hung my near-future wardrobe out on the line so they'll be ready to go when I need them. It seemed to me to be such a beautiful, fitting day for a task like that.

And finally, I got my first Mother's Day card and gift from my dear husband. Yes, the card was cute and clever, as expected in this household. Then he told me that my gift was: that we could find out the sex of the baby if I want to.
And I do!
So, 6 weeks and counting till that ultrasound.... STAY TUNED!!

And Happy Mothers' Day.
Nicky and Nate
14 weeks 2 days

RockStars

I can find no other word more perfect to describe my co-worker friend than: RockStar. It's a term she uses with an amusing amount of regularity, but always in appropriate context.

Yesterday she gave birth to a baby girl, Eva Renae, after being more than a week overdue but hanging in there like a champ. Working right up until her due date, larger-than-life belly and all, always glowing. I can't wait to see more pictures of Eva, or better yet, see her in person.

Another RockStar is our friend Sturk, who celebrated her 30th birthday in style on Cinqo de Mayo. Can anyone think of a better holiday on which to have your birthday?

And finally, I'd like to thank the RockStars in my life who have listened to my processing rants about my love-hate relationship with my hair, and helping me find peace in what to do with it next. After months of deliberation, I went RockStar short again today, or "Sharon-Stone-Short", as I call it. It feels like the hair equivalent to getting your braces off - no, not slimy, but... like there's so much weight missing... I keep thinking it's up in a pony tail, but no, it's just RockStar short. And Nate is still speaking to me. :)

Prime Time

Dream quip:
Nate and I were in a documentary about Hurricane Katrina. We were actors in a dramatization scene of a boat that was caught in the hurricane at sea with some other people. Although it was kind of like a scene from The Perfect Storm, too. Anyway. Of course the conditions were very realistic, so as to capture the real terror of what one must have felt if indeed trapped on the boat. So, because it was a movie, I knew I wouldn't die, but I was still quite afraid that I would fall off the boat as it was bucking and rocking around in the tidal waves. And even though I knew it would be safer to go down below under the deck, that wouldn't have been as good for the cameras because they wanted to see the fear in the actors' eyes. So we hunched in a corner of the boat, soaked and freezing and waiting for the scene to end.

I also wanted to take this opportunity to say that by the way, I'm feeling really fine, and have been this whole time. I realized that the blog entries have been missing that element, and that's been because there's basically nothing to report. Trust me, I'm sure that the textbook early pregnancy symptoms would have lent themselves well to some real colorful, slapstick blog entries. For that reason I feel a little shortchanged. But I know that I am SSOOOO lucky to have been feeling so fantastic. Yes, an occassional tired day, random smell aversion, spaciness in the head, unexpected emotional outbursts, and ongoing "chest tenderness" that I've definitely gotten used to. Thus my hugs that are a little on the weak and distant side. But otherwise, I've been a very happy camper of a pregnant woman.

Although one freak phenomenon I still haven't figured out is that the very thought of, let alone the sight of, a particular necklace I made a couple months ago, makes me nauseous. I'm not even kidding. I don't even want to look at it and handle it long enough to take it apart to put the individual beads away. So, it's just hanging out in my jewelry making carrier. For... who knows how long.

And I have a TV show to add to my list of things that make me cry, although this is consistently, predictably, and even when I have not been pregnant: Extreme Home Makeovers. I mean, come on now. How can you watch that and not go through at least half a box of tissues???
And this show is directly after my favorite show ever: America's Funniest Videos.

So, Sunday nights are prime time for an emotional rollercoaster before starting another work week.

13 weeks 3 days

Must... Keep... Eyes.... Open....

What is it about Fridays that wipe me out?

It's another tired Friday, but also the beginning of a weekend of visiting friends and family. So I have that as incentive to keep me awake.

Nate's hosting poker here tonight, which means that unless I think I can sleep through the rowdiness that lasts into the wee hours, which I don't think I'm capable of even in this state of fatigue, I'm better off finding another place to sleep for the night. And what better place than at my mom's, who's just back from California for the season?? It will be nice to catch up with her in person.

Then to Massachusetts tomorrow for our friend Sturk's 30th birthday party! That should be a good time visiting with friends.

So ta-ta for the weekend,
We'll be in touch.
Nate and Nicky
13 Weeks, baby

Milestones

So I've recently learned how to make hard-boiled eggs.

I know. I'm 31 years old, and I had to look it up on the internet.

I feel more prepared for parenthood than I was two weeks ago, now that I can cross this off my list of things I've never done prior to being responsible for another human being. And teaching them things. Like how to hard-boil an egg.

Today is my little brother Alex's (blanking out on the correct use of apostrophe) 7th birthday. Actually, in his time zone, his birthday has come and gone. But I just wanted to give a shout out to my little bro who will be also an uncle this year. He lost his second tooth this weekend, but the toothfairy forgot to pay him a visit. I was told that it was because he went to bed too late that night, and that the tooth fairy probably tried to deliver his present earlier in the evening when he should have been in bed, but couldn't since he was still awake. WOW the parent logic to explain events like this astounds me. I can't wait to test my skills at such feats.

So back to the egg subject. I boiled two last night, planning to bring one to work with me today to have with lunch. My first attempt, a week or so ago, to crack the successfully hard-boiled egg, was a pretty shoddy job. Tons of tiny pieces of egg shell to make sure I didn't eat, sticking to my fingers, etc. I guess it was weighing on my mind pretty heavily, because last night I had a dream that, are you ready for this, I tapped my hard-boiled egg a few times, and it came apart in two big clean pieces. Viola. And today, the process went much more smoothly than the last time.
Wow, if I can boil AND crack an egg, I can do anything. Bring on parenthood.

Buh Bye Waist

So I've gotten several recommendations to take "belly pics" of the expansion project underway.
I look forward to having something more exciting to show in the future. In the meantime, for my own indulgence in vanity, I needed to document the "before" pictures. These were taken a couple of weeks ago.

Yes, I am sucking in and flexing with every fiber of my being. I was able to hold that pose for the 10 seconds before the camera timer went off. I was only sore for 3 days after this photo session. Nonetheless, I felt the need to have, in black and white, proof that at one time in my life, I had a waist. A little, "Look-what-Mommy's-stomach-could-do-way-back when" story to tell. Not that I would make it into a bedtime story. I'd just recall it in my own mommy mind.

I'm at the stage right now where I'd really like to be "showing," so I don't go back and forth between wondering if my pants are on the tight side because I just had a big lunch, or if it's just the accumulation of too many avocados and crab rangoons, and not enough ab work. And by not enough, I mean, I think I did some time in 2006, but... I couldn't narrow it down to a month for you. But hey, once you've been with someone for 12 years, you can let it all hang out, right? Right, honey? No wonder he doesn't want to write a blog entry - this is dangerous territory for the partner of a pregnant woman.

However, I've already received a goldmine of comments from others out there.
I don't know if they're trying to be supportive by offering up observations about my appearance, to help me feel like it's more real, or what. In any case, the gems include:

"Oh my gosh, is that a little pooch? Look at that!!"

"Are you showing yet?" followed by a complete matter-of-fact: "Let me see. " Meaning, and I am NOT making this up, "Lift up your shirt so I can see your bare stomach and decide for my unprofessional self if you are showing." Did I lift my shirt up? Yes I did. I was in too much shock to respond otherwise! And do you know the other priceless part of this interaction was? That it took place IN THE STAFF KITCHEN AT WORK.

And my personal favorite:
"Um, can I tell you something? I know you don't think you are, but you're totally showing."

The comments listed above have inspired me to develop my own personal rule to offer to the general population. Whether you apply this to me, or to any other woman you interact with for the rest of your life, I implore you to consider this rule before you speak:

Until a pregnant woman says to you, "LOOK! I'M SHOWING! MY BELLY IS STICKING OUT AND IT'S NOT JUST THE HUGE BOWL OF MAC AND CHEESE I JUST ATE FOR LUNCH! IT'S MY BABY AND I'M SO EXCITED ABOUT IT!" it is NOT adviseable to tell a woman that she looks like she's pregnant. Even if she's happy about being pregnant.

Ahhh the joys of early pregnancy.

Okay, as fascinating as it is to read about how Nicky feels about her waist, I will include for you an actual medical update - our second prenatal visit was today. The midwife used the doppler device to help us hear Chester's heartbeat, which was in the 150-160 beats/minute range. You should have seen Nate's face. "It's official!" he said - meaning, we made it through the first trimester, and things seem to be going along fine.

And to answer another common question we're getting, we have still not decided whether or not we will find out the baby's sex. It wouldn't be until the 20 week ultrasound anyway, but we still have some talking to do on the subject. I'm leaning toward yes, Nate's leaning toward no, so time will tell. It's a tough one, so we're also asking for a refrain from lobbying either way, as tempting as it may be!

Okay - that's it for now. Unless,,, you wouldn't want to hear about one of my wacked out pregnancy dreams, would you? Okay okay I'll share. The SHORT version is, we were having people over for dinner, although my sister Leigh had cooked two of the dishes. She was unveiling one dish, which was a very large carrot that had been roasted in the oven. As she put it on the table, I saw the carrot move, and then to my horror a black lizard squirmed out of it and onto the floor, and was slithering/running around our house as I SCREAMED at the top of my lungs because I was so grossed out. Curiously, Leigh didn't seem as alarmed as I was. But I could tell that she hadn't meant for that to happen. As the lizard ran around the house it became obvious that this was no ordinary lizard. After all, it had survived being cooked in the oven for an hour. But as it ran around, it grew bigger and bigger, and we wanted to get it out of the house, but no one wanted to come in contact with it. So we opened the doors and tried to steer it out. Then it changed into a cat, that looked like our cat Toonces. Then the demonic lizard cat and Toonces started to fight; then the demonic lizard cat ran out of the house, but Toonces followed it, so I ran after her because I didn't want her to get hit by a car. I also wanted to kill the demonic lizard cat if I was able, but it turns out it belonged to a neighbor of ours, who could tell what my plan was. So he started chasing me, and we ran so far away from my house that it turned into night time, and I couldn't tell where I was, and I knew I needed shelter for the evening but I couldn't tell what houses were okay to knock at for help, and which were unsafe. I don't know if I ever caught Toonces, or killed the demonic lizard cat, or lived through the night. Because then I woke up.
Don't ask.

Bucket Loader

I got back from my conference late Tuesday night, and have been ruminating about my next blog entry ever since.

Guess who won a registration to next year’s conference: yours truly. And guess where it’s being held: in Minneapolis, the twin city to St.Paul, Minnesota! I know, the irony is overwhelming.

As much as people don’t want to hear a pregnant woman talk about miscarriage, I think abortion rates a few thousand times higher up on the list of things that people don’t want to hear about at all, much less from a pregnant woman.

No, this isn’t what I thought I’d be blogging about on my 12-week anniversary mark, but it’s been weighing on me, so much so that I feel like I couldn’t simply jump back into some funny blog entry before I address an issue that is bigger than just me and my anecdotes.

The conference that I went to was the Annual Meeting/Conference of the National Abortion Federation (NAF). Last week’s Supreme Court decision to uphold the “Partial Birth” Abortion Ban was a heavy pre-cursor to the NAF conference. I’ve experienced the range of feeling completely helpless and depressed that this right will disappear again within my lifetime, to feeling inspired and connected to others around the country who are committed to doing the work of helping women.

Yes, it’s difficult to read or hear about the procedure. Of course it is.

And yes, it sounds like the kind of thing that is so rare, it would never affect any one of us in our little circles directly.

But the most alarming part of this ruling to me is that it is absolutely just the first step of the process in the very organized plan to “chip away” at the right that already exists. In a way that does not make headlines like the Virginia Tech shootings, Hurricane Katrina, 9-11, or over-turning Roe v. Wade outright.

And that’s exactly how the American people are going to lose a fundamental right without even noticing, before it’s too late.

Even though, in my supervisor Kate’s words, this ruling was so much more than just “chipping” away at the right. “It’s more like taking a bucket loader to it!” as she so astutely described it.

With vague language and no health exception, it begins a slippery slope of what other aspects of abortion will be banned. Which broadens the circle of those it affects.

Because one third of all women WILL have an abortion in the course of their lifetime, it’s likely that the issue WILL hit close to home for almost everyone, at some point, in some way, in their life time, if it hasn’t already. Whether it’s yourself, your sister, daughter, wife, girlfriend, cousin, mother, grandmother, co-worker, or friend.

As a male doctor at the conference said, “Abortion is not just a women’s issue, it’s a family issue. It affects all of us.” And that includes the men in our lives: husbands, boyfriends, brothers, sons, fathers, cousins, grandfathers, co-workers, and friends.

And to lessen the distance that people may feel to an issue that may seem peripheral, I also wanted to share on a personal level that abortion is not something that just happens in the movies, or in big cities, or far away states. Part of what I do every week is help women through the abortion process. From talking with them before hand, attending to them during their abortion, and caring for them afterward, I see a great diversity of women each week: teenagers, pre-menopausal women, mothers, teachers, nurses, business owners, exchange students, women of all religions, and every imaginable birth control method failure possible, even vasectomy.

It’s hard not to grow resentful of the sense that those of us who do this work should be “quiet” about it, so as not to upset people, or appear distasteful, or boat-rocking, or radical.

So, after 4 and a half years of doing this work, I’m “coming out” and putting a face to the abortion issue, so that people see that even “a nice girl like Nicky does that kind of work”.

My co-workers and I say all the time that we feel privileged and honored to help women in the way that we do. Their stories are profound and compelling, and their gratitude to us and for the right to have control over their lives is overwhelming.

And speaking of co-workers, I am beyond lucky to work with the most amazing women ever. They are incredibly compassionate, hardworking, hilarious, eloquent, genuine superwomen. We are a fabulous team, and we appreciate each other and the very privileged jobs we share.

I wanted to make sure that I was not just writing this to relieve myself of a weight, but rather that I was doing my part to further awareness and understanding of, again, what can seem like a “peripheral” issue.

So I plead to all who read this to have their eyes and ears open to what’s happening in our government, because mine got opened real wide this week.

For more info or getting involved: http://www.prochoice.org/

-Nicky and Nate

12 weeks 1 day, finally

Another Brief Blog Break

Just a quick dream recall before I leave for a work conference for a few days, thereby creating what could be considered just the "lull" Nate's been waiting for. I COULD have skipped this entry, which would have left almost an entire week blog-free.... but that would have been WAY too long for my taste. I wouldn't want all of this pregnancy energy to be bottled up for that long with no blog outlet, now would I?

This was a couple of nights ago - we were shopping in some store that's like Reny's, only it was even more disorganized than Reny's. It was run by people with varying degrees of mental illness and/or mental delay, and they didn't have a real system for actually collecting money for what they were "selling". So it was kind of a free for all, unless you were a good Samaratin and used the honor system. They were all very friendly and you could tell they loved their job, but it was a chaotic atmosphere. Their clothes selection consisted of maybe 20 garments total, mens/womens/childrens, and you couldn't tell if they were new or used, and they were folded up and placed on a table, so if you wanted to pick one up to see the full garment, you just had to fold it back up and put it back on the table the way it was once you were done. No clothes racks with hangers.

The thing that sticks out most about the dream was the fact that they were having this big "sale" on Christmas stuff, and there was this sense that the sale was because they thought Christmas was right around the corner. However, it was real time: April. But no one had the heart to tell them the truth; instead we just all cashed in on amazing "deals". The big item they were trying to move, was literally a huge item: this hanging plastic bag/mural thing with Christmas pictures on it, and 24 rectangle pouches, 12"x16"in size, filled with chocolate candies. So, stepping back to look at it, I surmised that it was the world's largest advent calendar, and instead of getting just one chocolate per night after opening the window, you got a bag that weighed approximately 8 pounds. Of chocolate. But, it was the unfortunate kind of bad chocolate - you know, some random cheap brand that makes chocolate with a taste that's just a bit "off". But hey, at least you got a lot of it. I woke up before finding out if I was the sucker who took this item off their hands, so we'll never know.

And don't worry Mom, I am fine with the usual advent calendars you send us each year with small windows and no bad chocolate. REALLY.

Where's Nate?

Last night we went over to Nate's cousin's and cousin-in-law's place to see their new baby Lia, who of course, is adorable. Very alert and personable - and hungry! Kate also loaded me up with more maternity clothes - THANKS again!! AND some cocoa butter lotion - better to prevent stretch marks with. Nothing like passing on the wisdom and goods from one new parent to a fellow future-parent. We were talking about our blog, and Nate was saying that he'll "jump in sometime - he's waiting for a lull".......... Well, you might want to just jump in anyway, honey, because I'm having fun with this thing.

Right now he's watching the first of two back-to-back weeknight Seinfeld re-runs, otherwise known as his "favorite time of day". This is the episode where George records himself singing a variation of the Great American Superhero theme song as the outgoing message on his answering machine: "Believe it or not, George isn't at home, Please leave a messaaaage, at the beep. I must be out, or I'd pick up the phone, Wheerrreee ccoouuuuld I beee? Believe it or not, I'm not home." It's also one of my favorite times of day because even though he's seen these shows a hundred times, he still laughs out loud several times per episode, which is a sound that I never get sick of.

Okay - pregnancy symptom vignette.
Remember how I mentioned crying unabashedly at random scenes from Happy Feet?
Well - I think I can top that now.
Yes, I could retain a shred of dignity and, once again, keep this to myself, but frankly that's boring and has not been my M.O. thus far. So, enjoy:

I was driving out to see my sister Emi yesterday to visit and help her with wedding stuff. And since most days of the week, I only drive 7.5 miles each way to work and back, I don't get a lot of "alone time with the radio" per se. And, I have been known to be moved by a good song anyway, even pre-pregnancy. But this was a 35 minute drive, and WBLM is in the middle of their annual "Best of the Blimp A-Z" where they play every single song they have in their archive in order of song title, which takes about a month to do. So we're getting to hear some real classics.
But I wasn't prepared for this one to turn on the water works. Are you ready?

Proud Mary, by Ike and Tina Turner. Bawled like a baby.

You don't think I would kid about this, do you?

Okay, for more of a visual: It was a great archived live version of the song, complete with Tina's fabulous intro about how they never do anything "easy" but that they were going to start this song out nice and "easy", and then... get... nice and... "rough". In only a way that Tina can say, in that breathy talking-instead-of-singing-the-intro kind of way.
So they start out, nice and easy, and you're just feelin' it...
And then, the tempo speeds up, and you can just picture Tina shakin' her thing... and she starts belting out the "rough" part, and I LOSE it....

Lose it... because, I, umm... that's the thing - you can't explain pregnancy mood outbursts. Because I really liked the song? I know - any guy reading this is already seriously questioning the likelihood that I will be a fit mother.

I know that on some level, I can identify my deep down desire to be able to sing and shake it like that in front of a crowd like Tina and not have the audience wonder if they've mistakenly stumbled into an American Idol audition.
So, I guess the tears are in part from a sense of loss and acceptance that that will never be for me. And admiration for those who can.
Nonetheless, it was a killer combo that forced me to pull it together in the parking lot before I had to go into a convenience store on the way, sans sunglasses. But it wasn't my local store - more in Emi's neighborhood - so I didn't care too much if people could tell that I'd just had a moment. A moment with Tina.

Side note - I apologize to all of you who may be receiving this notice too late,
but Emi mentioned seeing the Prairie Home Companion movie recently, after reading our blog entries, and I cringed to hear this news. I realized that there are probably a few others of you, a few too many, who I did not reach in time to warn that the MOVIE is not at all on Nicky's list of recommended media. I don't know why Garrison Keillor thought he could or should try to translate the time-honored radio show into a movie. It was rambling, frustrating and confusing. I also cringe to think that there might be those of you out there who only saw the movie, still unfamiliar with the radio show, and thought that it reflected our taste. Again, it does not. Okay moving on...

Okay the LAST thing I'll mention about this show is that, upon RETURNING from our "pilgrimage" to see the show as a friend put it, I received notification of receipt of the message that we sent on-line, and said that it may be read on THIS week's show... Great, Thanks a lot guys... SO, I'll be tuning in again this week, and just wanted to mention it for those of you bored enough to try listening again :) And no, Steve, there won't be any fiddlers on this week's show as far as I know.

Okay really now - I think Nate's regretting having started this blog on account of how much time I'm spending on it, cutting into our usual time devoted to talking about our deepest and darkest feelings. Okay honey, I'm signing off now... here comes quality time!

Nicky and Nate -
let's just call it 11 weeks, because that's what it is tomorrow.

The Third Wheel

This dream was actually two nights ago and I've been debating whether or not I should share it, but frankly, I consider it too good to keep to myself, in the way of it rating high on the I-Couldn't-Make-This-Up-If-I-Tried scale.

Background - for those of you not already aware, I developed a bit of a thing for Heath Ledger years ago. Yes, he's had some unfortunate roles such as the ridiculous Knight's Tale (the only movie I've ever paid to watch in the theater twice in one day - although I wasn't alone!!). But Mmm mmm, any time he gets to use his Aussie accent, I don't care how bad the writing is. And yes, Nate is aware of this. I'm sure some day he'll share all about his crushes... ahem, Sarah Jessica Parker and Tina Fey.

Anyway - one recent movie he was in, in which he put together some kind of wierd midwestern accent that was a bit distracting, was Brokeback Mountain. Which is also the setting for my dream.

So basically, I was in this movie also, as a cowgirl friend of Heath and Jake's characters. There was this sense that Heath and I had some kind of romantic history, but presently we were just friends. Like Jerry and Elaine. Although, if I was really honest with myself, I had to admit that I still had feelings for him. BUT I did not let them be known, as it was becoming apparent that he had feelings for Jake, and Jake had feelings for him. So, I woefully submitted to knowing that my love would never be requited, because I could see how happy they were together and I didn't want to burden Heath with the knowledge that I wasn't over him. I knew that I should just let him be happy.

So, that was it.
Okay, after re-reading that I realize that you might be a little bored, and either let down or thankful that it wasn't a more detailed dream. But I just couldn't get over being in a hollywood movie - the one where, in the end, the guy gets the guy and the girl is left on the sidelines.