And Now For The Promised Conversation...

I'm sure that you know, by now, that I have a weird sense of humor. It is important for you to know that, frankly, it runs in the family. Mostly with my three brothers but occasionally my sis comes up to the plate and knocks all us cocky comic-wannabes in the dirt.

But today this is a conversation that went on between Bro and me yesterday. We were driving home from Purcell after doing the WallyWorld thing. We sometimes talk about all sorts of things and sometimes nothing. We are both quite comfortable with quiet. Yesterday was one of the days we would talk a bit and be quiet a bit.

On our route that we drove yesterday took us past an underground home with it's own grass runway and a small plane. After I had noted the two white painted tires hanging on the fence posts to indicate the end of the runway, I turned to Bro and told him that I had dreamed several times that I could fly a plane. The dreams were so real that I would awake and have to talk to myself that it was just a dream. Bro allowed as how he had a recurring dream about flying, but not in plane, flying his body out into the sky, soaring all over... "How cool is that, Bro!" I told him. " yeah," he said " it was a great dream... I haven't had it in a while."

We both fell silent for a minute. I was thinking how neat it would be to fly out into the ozone in my dreams with only my body and was lost in thought when Bro said, "But it was a bitch when I'd fall out of bed. Talk about a rude awakening!"

I cracked up... I had to grab my ribs because I was laughing and it hurt. But, oh, the hurt was worth it.

That the honest to God conversation we had. When we talk about things like this there is generally no need to embellish.

I'm off to bed now. Get me some rest. Hope you enjoyed the story. If you didn't I guess you just would have had to been there...

Please Don't Feel Neglected...

I've been terribly busy having a pity party... or a blue funk... or, or just plain ole' de-pressed.

I hate de-Christmasing the house. My world feels so blank and colorless and now I , too, feel blank and colorless. I might as well let my hair grow out to it's real color, mousy brown (with just a few strands of gray mixed in).

I don't want to bathe (my roommates stay away from me), I don't want to talk (so no one speaks to me), I don't want to make jewelry, I don't want to do anything but get in my bed, turn on the electric blanket (it's gray and cold today again) and cry myself to sleep. Well, maybe not cry myself to sleep, but to just sleep, perchance to dream...

Since I dream in full-blown technicolor, my life improves dramatically when I sleep, but never fear... this too shall pass.

Hopefully in a hurry.

Row, Row, Row Your Boat...

I'm sitting here this beautiful Sunday morning watching the sculling competition from Beijing. I love the Olympic Games, and I especially enjoy watching the sculls. I have always wanted to try rowing. It just looks so peaceful, out on the water, pulling on your oars in such a rhythmical beat, in tune with yourself, the boat, the water. I don't have any idea where this desire was born or why I feel so drawn to it, but I hope, before I die, to be able to try it to see if it is all that I feel that it would be. Knowing me, I would probably tip over, but then I never had been afraid of getting wet. Come to think of it, as long as I can remember I've had people telling me I'm all wet anyway.

Ahhh, if you don't have dreams, what do you have?