Try Not To Analyze It

This just in: Tiger Woods took a dump today!

I am a walking zombie today after seeing “Promises, Promises” last night. Well, I’m assuming I am, or should be, so I preemptively prepared a blog for today, and whether I really am beyond tired today or full of vim and vigor, I’ll review the show tomorrow. And to add to my state of zombieism, I had to get Shazz and Herbert’s American Idol blog posted as well. I must teach them how to use the computer for cases such as this when I might not be around.

How’s this for a question? I was watching the news yesterday morning and the son of one of the men trapped in the mine explosion in West Virginia was asked “Exactly, how worried are you? What’s going through your mind?” by the interviewer. Really? What the hell!

This just in: Jesse James blinked his eyes today and Sandra Bullock refuses to acknowledge it!

I had this crazy dream the other night that really made use of some current conscious elements and some not. I was in a bathroom, a rather large one, cleaning up from having been trudging through the mud all day. I was already mud-encrusted so I don’t know where I had been, but it was obviously a lot. I’m sure it has to do with the construction going on of my own new bathroom, but it wasn’t mine. Suddenly, as I was standing there, stripped down in all my glory, I felt pressure beneath my feet as though the floor were rising up. Indeed it was. The entire bathroom, with the exception of the floor, had turned into a glass enclosure (again, a reference to the glass shower enclosure we’re having put in, no doubt) and was rocketing up out from wherever it was located. My guess is a hotel. It was on a track, like a roller coaster would be and was soaring up over a rooftop restaurant where patrons heralded me with hoots and hollers and napkins of yellow and white folded into fancy designs. Most of them held their fancy folded napkins between their teeth and shook them like a dog would shake a toy. The next thing I knew, I was in my own backyard, and figured out where the mud had come from. It must have rained (hmm, I wonder where that subconscious suggestion came from) and my entire property was like a marshland. I plucked at clumps of wild onions that pepper my lawn along with several species of green growth that passes for grass. As I was coming up from the back, I saw my next door neighbor, with her back to me, washing her car on a blacktopped area in her yard, her dry yard. That’s not even close to what her yard looks like. And she was naked from the waist up. That’s a suggestion I won’t even entertain.

So, on that note, why not check out what the newts had to say about American Idol last night?

To Shovel Snow, Perchance To Dream

I had a pretty busy morning yesterday and my blog was the one thing I didn’t get to. All before 8:15, when I started working, I straightened up the kitchen, which involved emptying the dishwasher and refilling it, washing the non-dishwasherable items by hand, shoveling the driveway of the between 2 and 3 inches of snow with a broken shovel because the other one mysteriously disappeared, showering, and going to the grocery store for a few necessities.

I had a curious snafu with my computer the day before. All of a sudden, it shut down and when it came back up, I could not get into any website that required a sign in, ie, my work, my email. The homepage of my work sign in had a certificate authenticity warning and after I would sign into my email, the homepage of which was intact, gave me the same warning. I shut down numerous times and called the help desk at work. She told me what to do to get in so I could work, but didn’t recommend I plunge ahead like that for other websites. By looking around at different things, I discovered clock wasn’t right. I hovered over it and further discovered I’d stepped back into time. It was 2004. I reset the whole thing and I was able then to access my email and everything else I couldn’t up until that point.

Let me see if I can tell you that dream real quick. I was at some sort of either convention or trade show; the setting was rather warehousey, with boxes and wooden crates all over the place. There was a focal point sectioned off by some crates and things and people were milling about inside. All women. The turned their focus on me and told me I belonged in that area because my name had been drawn and I entered the area with no idea of what was going on. Suddenly, in that marked off area there appeared a bed, of sorts, with a woman lying virtually motionless. She was dressed in a heavy purple cable knit turtleneck sweater and snug black slacks and her hair was in a tightly curled medium afro. Apparently she was dying and those of us who were gathered in this boxed off section were to be the equal recipients of her money. Each of us had some “alone” time with her, I guess she wanted to know who she was giving her money to, but that one on one time was in that same area however, somehow, it was exclusive; we couldn’t see them, they couldn’t see us. Finally, it was my turn and sat on the bed next to her. She spoke softly, but I couldn’t make out anything she was saying. Her eyes were closed and I had the feeling she knew each person individually. I strained to hear what she was saying; I didn’t know if they were instructions or conditions for getting the money, or just incoherent babble. Then, with that knowledge you have in dreams sometimes, I knew the final words I heard her speak were directed mainly at me, words she hadn’t said to any of the other recipients. She said, “My eyes are the mirrors to your soul”. I knew that was incorrectly said, but as she said it, I was drawn to her as she added, “Look into my eyes.”. I leaned forward and could see her eyes had become two quarter-sized mirrors and just before I could peer into them, I woke up.

And then we had the nutty newts’ confused take on American Idol last night. But I think they managed alright.

“Ya-ya!”

It’s a sunny and still Friday morning, the end of another week. Snow peacefully blankets the ground, my lawn peppered with huge tree branches that have to be dragged away. Crunchy ice blankets my driveway that will probably have to wait until the spring thaw. Nothing would indicate that something was brewing, but, indeed, there is more snow predicted for Monday into Tuesday. According to the weather on the radio, it may not be significant, though. Or, it may be. Oh! And this, taken from a Brian and Ariel Drought Relief file, it’s also going to snow next Saturday when we will be in the city to see The Miracle Worker on Broadway.

Tonight we’re going to see the new movie, Wolfman, with Anthony Hopkins. I see he’s listed 8^th in the credits. I wonder just how much screen time he’ll have.

I had a funny dream last night. I was working for some powerfully rich family who lived in a mansion high on a hill somewhere here in New Jersey. I was a live-in servant of some sort and I was never allowed to leave the estate when no one was home. But at this point in the dream, even though the house was empty except for me, it was of the utmost urgency I get a set of important documents somewhere and my only mode of transportation was to ride their elephant. Of course I was concerned that it might trample me to death, or he would run amuck with me astride. I was also concerned that I didn’t know how to ride an elephant, but apparently I learned quickly. He was a friendly sort and as I jerked his reins ever so slightly, with a less intense ‘ya-ya’ than one would use to direct a horse, let’s say, I was able to steer that pachyderm off the grounds, realizing the driveway at the bottom of the hill was wide enough. The tiniest tug to the right ‘ya-ya’ then one to the left ‘ya-ya’ and we were on the road against oncoming traffic. Another ‘ya-ya’ or two later, we were on the proper side of the road. But whether I got the documents delivered, I’ll never know. I woke up…and here I am. Not to mention he was such a slowpoke. I most likely did not get them delivered and then lost my job as a result.

I’m a little afraid for tomorrow’s weigh-in. We had our naughty moments during the week, especially after that snow removal. It kind of makes you want to devour everything in sight. But we balanced it out with good stuff, too, so we’ll have to wait and see what happens.

Have a great weekend and Happy Valentine’s Day