Sunday Confessions

Sometimes, one can drink too much wine. And then, come Sunday, pay the consequences. Jesus liked wine, but he was always so responsible, the model Jerusalem citizen. I'll try to be more like that next time.

Lucky?

This guy landed on my windshield while I was at the supermarket and hung around, eerily staring at me, for over 20 minutes and the course of two miles. He was either bringing me some crazy luck or planning to take over Fullerton.


I am still a 13-year-old girl when it comes to signs, as in "if the next song on the radio is 'I Saw the Sign,' I know (insert boy's name) likes me!" Well, I wasn't planning on it, but Muse played twice, in a row, on two different stations, and it was my favorite song of theirs, "Starlight."

Perhaps any luck I garnered was just avoiding that short bus across the street.

Hit by a School Bus

That was me, today, on the onramp to a major California freeway. Seriously, how often does a school bus rear end other cars? Thank goodness there were no kids, and even more so, good golly it wasn't worse so that the four cases of beer and two cases of water I had in my trunk for a work golf tournament next week were safe.

I could just imagine THAT conversation. "No officer, I do not have a problem!" I SHRED for crying out loud! I don't have a beer belly to speak of!

This is the first time I've been hit. There really is minimal damage, though I am surprised at my aches and pains. I suppose anytime you are shoved, in or out of a car, without warning, that will happen. Hopefully in a few days all will be good. In the meantime, I still can't believe I was hit by a school bus. And a short bus. Let the laughing ensue.

My Cat Got Mail

Well, Scott and I forgot Atticus' birthday. I am not sure what that means about our future parenting, but the black ball of fur does have someone who remembered-his veterinarian. Isn't that sweet.

He's a ham, what can I say.

Yes, that is mail that reads "in care of" me, to Atticus, sent First Class. And it was a full on card, not even an appointment reminder. Happy birthday you, my lovable little bugger.

Sunday Confessions

Certain foods in my life are treated with special care upon consumption. So much that they are completely savored and I have dubbed them "the perfect bites." For example:

-The first bite of pizza
-The first sip of coke out of the can
-A really cheesy bite of pasta
-An Oreo, opened, eaten filling side down
-A Reese's Pieces eaten upside down
-Muffin tops (duh)
-Cupcake tops (double duh)

Pretty much just another one of my weird idiosyncrasies.

Dreams

As a daily ritual each morning, I ask Scott how he slept the night before and after we discuss the level of REM achieved, I dive into explaining my crazy dreams, that sometimes have me waking in sweat, or convinced their are aliens in our home.

I've decided to start a dream journal because some of these feel so real, I think it would be interesting to write them down as a reference, because so often I find that I have encore dreams, but that simply could be to thinking about them all day.

Perhaps I can blame FaceBook, but I have had several lately that include high school friends, who are often featured more than one night. A particularly vivid one involved a friend's mother who recently passed who explained how wonderful her daughter was and how blessed she was to have her. It was the kind of thing I thought about all day since it felt so real.

Other times, the dreams are simply out there. Last night, John Mayer made an appearance, and while I can chalk it up to his recent news coverage, it's still boggling. I've already told Kerri about an outlandish dream in which her and Rob adopt a little girl who fell off a truck with many other babies into the ocean (?), and they saved her. They decided to have a party in her honor at a local park in which my dad was barraging me to do a duet on stage with my aunt. Sometimes all I can do is laugh when I wake up.

Scott does not remember his dreams in the morning. It's funny to me how some people like myself can recall these crazy details as one dream transitions into another, and yet, he and others like him, have seem to have taken the Dreamless Sleep Potion (sometimes, I just can't resist HP references, yes I am a nerd.)

I haven't purchased any dream decoding books yet, because I am not really looking for symbolism; I can generally connect the dots to what I've seen and heard throughout the day to what appears at night. The tangled webs they weave are what fascinate me.

Project Runway

I have put the kabash spending money on items that are deemed wants not needs in an effort to really bulk up the house piggy bank. Clothing is my weakness, especially just casual internet browsing. Like the next girl, I often add items to my cart and never go back for them, but sometimes it's nice to look at a garment and imagine where I'd wear it. So, here goes.

The Italian Opera:

(source)

Book signing, for my non-existent novel:

(source)

Tea party or coffee with Stacy London in Central Park:

(source)

This dress would really require a tan. Some added cost for more Bare Escentuals Faux Tan.

English garden wedding plus a hat I'd still need to locate:

(source)

So far none of these events are currently on my social calendar, however, should they come along, I am one step ahead with my wardrobe.