Mortaine’s Blog

The dream I had last night was bizarre…

I was a hanger-on with the American Idol crowd. Jessica Sierra hadn’t been voted off and was having some strife with the other finalists. One of the other girls arranged an “accident” for her. She was kidnapped, raped, beaten, and left in a catatonic state in a parking lot (nearly all this was off-screen). By some odd trick of fate, she was then flown to Iraq, where Dr. Corday from ER stitched her up and got her well enough to go home.

She returned home, where the rest of the Idol crew had been fretting over her absence, and Ryan Seacrest had had to pull out the most melodramatic performance of his life, as scheduling issues with the show meant Jessica’s disappearance would make her the next finalist out.

When she re-appeared, showing up at the memorial show for herself, the only person who recognized her was me. I made eye contact, but she indicated with her facial expression that she needed my silence– she did, after all, have to catch the person responsible.

Meanwhile, the show must go on. I ended up talking with some of the other finalists. I visited the cabins where they were staying during the show. Nikko talked about growing up in San Jose, and I mentioned that I’d actually seen him around town. I had a hard time talking to Constantine without giggling like the fangirl I know I am, but I was really touched that he’d written a poem in Jessica’s honor and he seemed to either be playing up the romantic soul of his audience demographic (aww! he’s so romantic! and hott!) or have genuine feelings for her.

In any case, Jessica finally revealed herself. After they caught the perpetrators (there were two finalists involved– I think Mario was one of them), she and I talked about what had happened to her. She was having an impossible time coming to grips with it all, a lot of trauma, and a lot of unresolved feelings towards her mother for some reason. So I went to an abandoned school and drew a large hopscotch board on the floor with 15 spaces. With the cameras off, I brought her and her mom there and told her to do the whole hopscotch board, telling her mom with every step how she feels– because there are about 15 different feelings she was having. And if she did that, she’d get “the prize.” What I didn’t tell her was that the prize was forgiveness and love and self-forgiveness, and her mother being as emotionally honest with her as she had been.

In non-dream related news, my friend Ken’s baby was born last night at about 11:30 PM. 7 lbs. 2 ounces, a boy who I think they’re going to name Evan? Congratulations, Ken and Jill– I’m 2/3 of the way done with the baby blanket!

Oh, and everyone please welcome , the new journal of my high school friend Andy, who is currently in Indonesia. Andy’s a very intelligent person with a lot of smart things he thinks about. Also, he offers a strong perspective on Southeast Asia, something we don’t always get in the US media.