A peek into my mind:
At lunchtime, I saw a man running down the street, carrying a small ice chest. What did I think?
I wonder if he just stole somebody's organs....
If I ever commit a crime, or am suspected of committing a crime, I'm going to make sure that I become rich and famous first. That way, I can choose when to turn myself in to the authorities. Or does everyone get to do that, and we only hear about it for the rich and famous?
Number of pairs of shoes under my desk: 5
-Black Old Navy flip-flops (worn to work this morning)
-Black Nine West lace-up oxfords (on feet, always under desk as my fall-back)
-Brown Cloud 9/Nine West loafer mules
-Black Cloud 9/Nine West flats with strap
-Asics running shoes (in plastic bag, with socks, in case I actually go to the gym)
You know how some of Martha’s Good Things are really good ideas that you might not have thought of on your own? And some of them are just ideas, the kind that everyone has, and don’t really need explanation, but she posts them anyway? Well this is one of my good things that falls into the latter category:
Removing black stuff
If you have a phone card, or something else with black stuff to scratch off so that it will be useful, don’t dirty up your fingernails or a coin scratching it, creating little black stuff crumbs to clean up. Just put a piece of Scotch tape (or your preferred brand of cellophane tape) down over the black stuff, scratch so it adheres, and then peel up, leaving a nice clean surface with the numbers you need.
It was that kind of night. The kind that ends with the desire to stay home and sleep some more. But the desire was tempered with the knowledge that there's work to be done, and (maybe more importantly) that sleep will be a lost cause once the workmen show up and start jackhammering the street.
The dreams were numerous and vivid. (Talking snakes in the roof of our van!) And in trying to drink some water, I reached into my lamp, knocking it over. It then knocked my full glass of water onto the floor. I then staggered around the apartment trying to figure out how to soak up the water. Good thing there wasn't a library book next to the bed last night. And good thing it's water, and not beet juice, that I like to drink in the middle of the night.
My car was stolen again. This time it was Egbert, my Honda Civic hatchback, which in real life I sold last year. This was its second time being stolen. I had to go claim it at a parking garage. The garage was several stories high, and vehicles were parked not just on the floors, but on the ceilings as well.
To find Egbert, I climbed aboard a massive woman. She carried me and seven others on her shoulders and arms, as she walked up and down the aisles on all the floors. It was hard to watch both the floor and ceiling, so it took me two trips through the building before I determined that Egbert was not there. After disembarking the massive woman, I spoke with other staff, to find that my car was parked in a satellite lot, and would not be available until the next day.
I left, walking out into the increasing darkness. I tried calling Sam, but wasn’t able to get through. So I set off down the street. Even though I’d made it to the garage without mishap, I was finding it hard to get my bearings. I saw a bus, but it was the wrong one. So I kept walking, under a highway.
I could see that the only thing ahead of me was a boat dock, so I decided to retrace my steps. When I turned around, a boy was walking toward me, his two dogs in tow. These were not your small-sized dogs, nor your medium-sized dogs. They were even beyond the realm of large-sized dogs. These were gargantuan. They easily outsized me, and it was no treat when one of them latched on to my hand with his teeth.
.......................
Last night I dreamed I stayed in a shack of Oprah’s and ate delicious field greens of all different kinds.
I also went to visit Lacey at work, but she was in a meeting. So I enjoyed water-based amusement park rides with other staff at the Baha'i National Center. And it was all just right outside, on a big lake.
This morning, in the car, on the way to work:
Me: Day after tomorrow! Surfing lesson! I am stoked!
Sam: Stoked?
Me: Yeah. I hope the waves are low enough for us to have lessons. We have to call that number to make sure the waves aren’t high enough for the contest. Hey, like on Boarding House: North Shore. You know how they would call to see if the heat was on? It’s just like on TV.
Sam: Except they can actually surf.
Me: Oh, yeah.
Wouldn't it be great if there were a little program to do away with that embarassing mistake - forgetting the attachment?
You would press SEND, and it would have a little popup that says, "You used the word "attach," in your e-mail. Did you want to attach a document?" And then you could drag and drop, and hit the SEND button again.
Daydreams.
I had a meeting in another building today. I took the elevator down from my office, and stepped into the lobby of my building to see a familiar face. Actually, two familiar faces, asking the security guy for directions. It took me a second to remember why these two people looked so familiar, but at the same time seemed out of context. And then it hit me - Judges Nelson!
I might as well have run up saying, "Yoohoo!" I was so thrown off by seeing them in my office building, instead of at a US Baha'i event, that I scurried after them to say hello. It was like I had to confirm for myself that I wasn't mistaking them for some other couple.
Today was such the "Hawaii" day - it made me feel like I really live here. This is not a gloat session, just an appreciation.
We finally started our surfing lessons, and that was great! An hour was just right, because my arms were about to fall from paddling out to the waves. I also learned why a rash guard might be handy - my top kept scrunching up. If you're like me, What's a rash guard? Is that some kind of ointment? rash guards are those spandex shirts you often see surfers wearing. I didn't achieve a level of really standing up, but I tried. And I caught waves on my knees. Good fun - quite the rush at times.
The weather was perfect - sunny, but still relatively cool and breezy. After our lesson, we had Thai food, sitting outside. As we drove back from the North Shore, we passed pineapple fields in various stages of growth, with a faint scent of over-ripe pineapple every once in a while.
The whole thing just made me feel like, "Wow, we live in Hawaii."
I just passed a man whose t-shirt said, "Jab me."
I don't know what his intent was, but I had to work hard to keep from walking over and poking him in the stomach.
It's the end of the work day, but the crook in my neck, that was there when I woke up this morning, is still present. The stress of being a spy by night.
In my dreams, I was Sydney from Alias. I don't know how she, or even the real spies that don't get to wear such cool getups and kick people's asses, do it. The anticipation of carrying the encrypted disk out of the library, hiding it in a small German book, after meeting with my enemy, was more than I could handle.
Good thing the alarm went off.
It was a good weekend. Amusing anecdote:
Saturday afternoon, I was sitting in Waikiki with some other Baha'is. The plan was to have a meeting to discuss things going on in the community, and then watch the free movie that would be shown on the big screen set up on the beach. There were like 10 to 15 of us, ranging in age about 50 years, sitting in a sort-of-circle, talking.
A woman stops by and says, "Is this an AA meeting?"
"No...."
"Oh, sorry. You all just looked so happy."