So one of the cooler side effects of the Effexor is the crazy dreams…
The other night I dreamt I was on a football field with Emmitt Smith. Emmitt was getting ready for some big game, perhaps it was the super bowl, I’m not sure. there was glitter and fanfare and all manner of football related excitement. At one point, he and I were dancing on the field, he was trying to sing ‘Baby Got Back‘ to me, but he could not remember the lyrics. I tried to prompt him, but he just wasn’t getting it.
Who doesn’t know the lyrics???
Later, he ran a play, went out of bounds and the play ended; except he decided that it shouldn’t be done. He got back on the field and ran a touchdown. The touchdown was deemed illegal and not scored. Emmitt and the referee got into a fistfight that no one wanted to break up.
I had to walk on the field, and demand that they each stand up. I poked Emmitt in the chest and told him to shut up, I grabbed the ref and told him to make a call and stick to it, dammit.
Yeah, what the hell. I also dreamed that I was renting a house from the lady who bought my house a couple years ago and she was being a dick and I was being a dick and there was a lot of swearing and name calling, then I was on the ‘Lost’ island trying to teach those yo-hos how to build a palm hut.
and and and….
Please do not forget to donate to the Walk for the Animals fund drive to memorialize Ghengis.

When I was a kid I got as a present 2 children’s books. They were both very large anthologies of children’s stories. Not popular or famous stories, just kid’s stuff. Stories I’ve never seen again in any other books.
The books were large, about the size of a phone book and may an inch and a half thick, printed on cheap paper. The stories were divided by theme and each theme had its own color paper. You know, all the animal stories were in the purple section, heroes in the green, etc…
I loved those books, I read the stories over and over. I lost those books one afternoon in a fit of parental rage and it always saddened me.
Now that I’m an adult and I have the resources to replace those quirky things that made an impression I’m finding that I cannot replace those books because I can’t remember what they were called. The only details I remember are
1) A story about a little girl who finds a stray black puppy. She brings him home and puts up signs. The owner comes for the puppy and the puppy’s real name is Demitasse. This one stuck with me because I had never seen the word ‘Demitasse’ before and I had to break it down and figure out what it meant, then I had to look it up. I also expected the guy to let the girl keep the puppy but he didn’t and I came to understand that just because it’s the nice thing or the thing you want it doesn’t mean that other people won’t be affected by it. The man obviously loved the puppy too!
2) An underwater kingdom is threatened, the hero of the story has to swim through the dense seaweed of the Sargasso Sea. I’m sure he saved the day, but I don’t remember. I just remember having to look up the Sargasso Sea because I’d not heard of it before.
Anyway, yeah, sometimes even if you want something and you have the resources to get them, you just can’t have them because they don’t exist anymore. I’m sure these books were put out by some cheap fly by night printhouse and picked up on the cheap. They certainly were not of any high quality. Maybe someday I will find them.
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Fundraising for the Walk for Animals has been coming along beautifully! I’ve had to increase my goal again. I am very please about this. I even contact the Humane Society to find out exactly how to make sure that the funds donated are done in Ghengis’ memory. I am very excited about this. Thank you to everyone.

I’m pretty sure that public radio is trying to kill me. This isn’t paranoia or me just trying to blame a giant, faceless entity for my own stupidity. It’s true, there’s a conspiracy.
1) While listening to a bit about the process of hand mixing fabric dyes in Afghanistan, I missed my turn to go home and subsequently turned on the wrong street
2) Listening to an interview with the ambassador to Sudan and his wienery way of wiggling out of any question that could not be answered with a reference to the glory of sudan I ended up way south of my house and had to creep around the lake to get home
3) my car displays the artist and song title on the radio. When i am listening to the minnesota public radio’s station that is supposed to be playing “new, alternative music” (and I’m such an old lady that when I listen I end up saying things like, “comb your hair, cheer up and go outside for a little bit” and “your whiny voice doesn’t hide your lack of talent” and “oh great, another blast from the eighties! Goodness, I’m glad I got to hear ‘Faith No More’ once more before I died!”). Every once in a while they do play something of interest that sounds both new AND good (because a lot of the shit sounds new, but stuffing a reed up my ass and listening to whistlefarts also sounds new but you wouldn’t want to hear it) and I want to see what I am listening to. I have to stare at my radio face and the road and the radio face and the road and the radio face and the road and try to watch the light turn red and not die before I get the name of the artist which I will promptly forget because I can remember things I don’t need to know (like the fact that I was wearing a beige sweater at the record store appearance of Soul Coughing 2 million years ago, but I cannot remember the name of the record store).
4) an explanation of how the sub-prime mortgage market implosion affects me made me late for work
5) listening to Kevin Kling talk about dachshunds and dog sledding found me in the garage with the car running for longer than is healthy
6) last night I totally blew through a stop sign while listening to a story about Albert Einstein
Actually, it seems that public radio isn’t trying to kill me but is trying to use me as a tool to kill others. interesting.
In further geek news, April got David the first 2 seasons of the new Doctor Who on DVD. I was not so interested, i’ve never been terribly interested in Doctor Who and in watching the first episode I was really not interested, but I kept watching. It’s actually not bad. I mean it’s not high art or anything (except for the Empty Child/The Doctor Dances two parter, that was awesome) and the science is way way wrong most of the time but it’s quirky and fun. I will say that Christopher Eccleston makes a funnier, more thoughtful and better looking Doctor that David Tennant can ever hope to be.
And by comparing Doctors in this way, I have doomed myself to a life of tucked in button down shirts, inhalors and New Years Eve parties spent playing video games in cheap hotel rooms! (oh, Anna, did I totally diss you there? yeah, I think I did! I am your mom and I took you to school in the car of pain!!!! Guess that will teach you to miss lunch you overcaffienated monkey-picker!)
Also also I have reopened comments to all and I am taking on a new strategy to fight comment spammers. So leave a comment, just don’t try to sell me clear prom shoes, visa cards, outdoor area rugs, hoover vacuum cleaner parts and viagra.