My therapist: (groan) I’ll put it on the list.

I’ve heard a lot of people have that dream where they show up to school naked. When I was in the first grade, I repeatedly had that same dream – but it was a daydream.  It was so vivid that I could sit at my desk for half an hour wondering why no one was staring at me. I’d look down and see my clothes, but my daydream was so real it was like they weren’t there.

My best theory until now has been that I had an exceptionally active imagination.

Now I think we can all agree that’s not quite sufficient.

I do not think it means what you think it means.

I’ve always heard people make fun of elderly women by referring to them as Grandma Moses. Turns out that she was a cool lady, and she’s a good example of someone finding real success pretty late in life. The woman’s an inspiration. Think of that next time you call someone Grandma Moses, and reconsider whether you want to pay them such a compliment. Brainstorm in advance for some other insulting names instead. I’d offer you some suggestions but I’m not some jerk who insults people just for being old.

Don’t believe everything someone else reads

You know what is so trendy? Atheism.

I’m going to go get a caramel macchiato and blog this from my iPhone.

Mainstream Religion

If you can even hear me, SEC, I don’t think I believe in you anymore.

Wacky Zany Kooky Products! Zowieeee!!!

Right. It’s not that this is some astonishing surprise, and you can’t forward this to Aunt Mimi and send her into fits of laughter over all the irony. I just that I think I stumbled across a consumer subculture that I didn’t know existed. So try not to look at the pictures and be like, ‘What’s the joke?’ because upper respiratory infections are not a joke.

2007 WINNER Power of Suggestion Award.  I’m honestly left thinking, hey that’s adorable. Instead of what I should be thinking, which is more along the lines of ‘Maybe there’s no God after all.’

The store (Tuesday Morning, for those interested in who’ll be suing me for this) appears to have a keen interest in drawing conclusions for its shoppers, which leads me to believe they are serious about their motto: ‘We’re banking on consumer laziness.’

I’m a classy operation here at the Don’t Cuss blog, so I’m not going force you to look at pictures of the unintentionally sexual items. Plus it’s not really funny or entertaining. Kind of like that time I blogged about my TV set.

But there’s also this, the imported Russian (maybe) collection of lemons or children I think. No doubt Tuesday Morning’s loyal customers have been waiting for this fine set of items of a nondescript nature to be made affordable to them.

I really only like it because even though both children look utterly terrified, you can still tell which one is Goofus and which is Gallant.

Hang in there, girls, you’ll be ice skaters yet.

Can’t Turn Back The Years

Who do I miss?

Dylan. I worked with him for about a year, and I could never figure out if he was straight or gay. But I do remember having a very voice-over monologue moment while I was talking to him once. I saw his mouth moving but all I could think was, “They should make people have a license to look that good.” He was always nice to me. I found a social network page that made it seem like he moved to Australia. I miss that guy.

Travis. Took me to see Mitch Hedberg in college, and paid my way with a coupon. You could tell there was all the skill of a ladies’ man behind that awkward facade. He valued me in a strange way. Like, almost grateful, but still somehow cocky.  Last I heard he’s in the music business… I miss that guy.

It’s strange to feel the absence of someone you really only knew from a distance.

John. A 4 year old kid I used to teach in Sunday School. He always had the most brilliantly nice-guy way of talking to people. He’d always look so thoughtful about all his responses, and they usually possessed a logic that life reserves for the 9 and 10 year olds of this world. I can’t imagine he’s gotten too far in his career at this point. Gallavanting can prove difficult when you’re tied to a booster seat.

Dr. Hasabnis. “Miss” gets its most forgiving definition here – I went to see him only once, and I paid for it. He seemed so educated and chic. Not only does he do heart surgery, he’s licensed to give chiropractic massages.  Unfortunately, I didn’t play it very cool. Turns out that some guys actually make my heart race. It can be pretty telling if you then let that guy put a stethoscope on you and check for any abnormal heartbeat. Still. I miss that guy.

Niall. He and Patrick were my first internet friends. I met them in a chatroom when that’s all there was to do on the internet. I was 14 and we had CompuServe.  Niall dropped off the radar, while Patrick and I kept in touch through my college years. But somehow Niall is the one I miss.

Jeff. This one’s complicated. All the drama between us ended the last time we saw each other, which was almost 5 years ago. But we had the kind of friendship that transcended normal life. The only person on the list I was ever close to, it’s his superficial persona I miss. I don’t suppose I would like him any if I saw him now. But I miss that guy.

Weird, huh?

Addendum: Hirota. Most emotionally sensitive straight boy I ever met. Would probably do just about anything for me, but couldn’t even look me in the eyes. He couldn’t afford a phone number, so I lost him. I miss that guy.

Unordered List of Euphorics

CSS

James St. James

Air piano

Drugstore cosmetics

Nasty weather

Mom

Kitten heeled shoes

Bittersweet Symphony by surprise

Hiroshige’s woodblock prints

Mom’s mom

Saturday

Who is this guy.

I was shopping in Barnes & Noble, and I heard two lines of “Jolene.” You guys know my method…  I bought the CD.  It has made the list of CDs purchased by me, which we know is a short one. I think he’s kinda of, a new Paul Simon, if Simon played with Mellencamp’s band. I have a weird, negative feeling about posting this. But since I want to do it, I’m doing it. I’ll let you know if I regret it later.

Let Me Cuddle The Ways

For over a year, I’ve had a link on my blogroll that goes to The Slanket. Herein, inasmuchas and whomsoforth as I shall now communicate, is why.

I do not have a hormonal imbalance. I am not made of wood. I would like to keep my toes. I do not have a cozy layer of blubber.  I am not now exploring my Inuit heritage. These are key differences between me and the people I live with.

I hate the feel of cheap cotton. So I couldn’t just wrap my neck in gauze – I needed a longterm solution to the cold inside my home. And stat, since I have 3 floor vents in a room roughly the size of a hollowed-out pumpkin.

Enter The Slanket. It respects me. It respects the fact that I both have and use hands. It is HUGE and SOFT, like a fat boyfriend. It enables me to do all kinds of work in complete comfort, never forsaking my feet in order to warm my neck. We rarely fight. What could be better?

Why am I telling you all this? Because I think it’s important that you understand your options. You may be content to rush from your computer to your bed to your computer to your bed, in an attempt to work and stay warm. I’m just telling you there’s an easier way.