Weird dreams

Last night I dreamed that I was asked by Paul to accompany him to a restaurant somewhere in the States and it turned out we were at some shadowy political meeting. I tried to find out what was going on and was given bland commonplaces and no substance. Finally somebody said, “This group is called the Shift of Honor”. I mean, they looked like a nice enough bunch of middle class white people, although for some reason I got the strong impression that some of them were in disguise.

Then we moved to another table and somebody offered to buy me a shot, which involved not one but two chasers. You know me, it’s a merit badge to consume alcohol somebody else is paying for (bonus points if it’s work) so I downed the shot and BOY did I fall down the rabbit hole. Somebody who looks a lot like Michael Emerling (now known as Michael Cloud and a candidate and fundraiser for the Libertarians) sat across from me and made faces at me while I steadily lost control of my facial muscles and my consciousness. I could FEEL my face and body twitching, it was horrible. I’ve never had a bad drug reaction in a dream before, that’s just bizarre. I know exactly how to interpret this dream, and it’s quite amusing, even if I did touch my face to see if it was okay (well, okay as it ever gets…) when I woke up this morning.

No sign of Katie, although she was in my dreams last night too, taking off in disgust when Lexi and I were remonstrating with her about her boyfriend.

I also dreamed that a kid across the street got a high score in a video game, and he was so excited and happy that he ran through the front door of our house (which was sort of an amalgam of my folks old and new place) to scream and yell about it at Keith, and the reason the door was open was because Katie had just walked out and left it open.

Painting, cleaning, laundry

My chest cold is now to the point where I am rarely coughing – I’d like to thank my poor beleaguered immune system. I still need a good swift slug of DM-D-E to get to sleep and still wake up coughing, but hell, wakeytime was 5 am today and that is really an improvement over nights past.

I painted three of the sills in the plant room (the side by side comparisons with the old ones are quite humorous) and have started a list of stuff to go on freecycle.org (thanks Brother Jim!) and craigslist. I finally managed to subscribe to freecycle, so I’m happy about that too; the last time for the life of me I could not get my password to work and whoever the moderator was turned out to be friendly but not helpful. I have also done my laundry, the touchup paint in the bathroom, vacuumed out the plant room (holy COW it was disgusting) and walked around the house making a list of stuff I can actually do with my back bein’ the way it is and all. Oh, and I read the Serenity comeeks Dax bought Katie (!?).

Kate spent 250 dollars on a ring for Daxus’ 20th birthday. This news will be met by cascades of disgust and disbelief, I’m sure. I justabout threw up when I heard it. It certainly hasn’t changed his attitude towards life, the universe, and being an adult.

I will be calling movers today and finalizing the moving date based on their input… despite my scads of moving karma from when I was living in Toronto, it turns out that I don’t have much here (at least in terms of putting together a truck) and I thought about it and … you know, this is going to be a relatively fast and easy move anyway. I will only have about ten sticks of furniture, a couple of awkward parcels (pictures, hangings, bags o clothes) and the rest is all banker boxes, which make for super easy moving. So I’m going to outsource and then if folks want to volunteer to help me unpack, I’ll go for that.

Katie found the clothes Janice put in the garage. I don’t think she’s ever going to forgive either her dad or Janice for cleaning out her room without bothering to pick up the phone and call her first. When she said that she would rather that Dr. Filk had cleaned out her room (as if….) I knew she was choked.
I am investigating my new computer. I had really good luck with TigerDirect.ca and Katie’s phone (thanks Brother Jim!) so I’m thinking…. put the bait on the hook and get a monster gaming computer. And then I’m thinking. Two fans. Do you really want to be listening to TWO fans? I’m also thinking about a big screen TV, but I’m also thinking… hey, I NEVER watch DVD’s when I’m by myself! Watching stuff is a social activity for me, strangely enough, so unless I want to be looking at a thousand bucks I only use when company’s over, maybe I should pass and keep my recently bumped up credit card in my pocket. It would make more sense to get a decent stereo.
I’ve mentioned Brother Jim twice, and I should post the pix he sent to me … suiting up in a bombproof suit! That’s where he’s working now, a company that makes bombproof suits. I want to ‘shop the last one and title it, Ready for Another Day of Work in Customer Support.

The Dandy Warhols are coming. Oy. I should phone Doug and LE and try to make a date. There will be life after Paul, and it will be interesting.

Keith has entirely fallen in love with the oeuvre of Patrick O’Brien, and why not? He’s an amazing writer.

Unreserved apology

I would like to apologize unreservedly for my error in linking to the article about cell phones hurting bees.  It isn’t true, and I shoulda researched it more carefully… or at least not presented it as something resembling fact.

Honeybees have many problems, tracheal mites, pesticides, etc.  Radiation is actually fairly far down the list of troubles.

Cousin Katherine

Aged thirteen, is just this minute having a gallstone removed from her biliary tree.  I light a candle for her swift recovery.  When she has recovered from that they will schedule surgery to get  the rest of it.  She was, by the garbled fifth hand account I got, hours away from pancreatitis and the ghastly grip of the Grim Reaper.  And, of course, she refused to see a doctor until she was just about a goner. And technically she’s First Cousin Once Removed Katherine, which I hasten to add before my mOm sticks it in the comments.

Shelene has new scissors

I don’t mean to whine, but when I siddown in a stall at work to do my bidness, it’s a bit of a shock to have to look at Roberto Luongo smirking at me. You see, we’re having a jeans day (hell, why not have a celebration of naturism day) at work and there are Canucks posters all over the building. Including in the peepee huts. Zow. I’ll be happy when they take the damned posters down. I found the poster on line so you can see what I’m whinging about.

I just got back from a trek to my stylist, Shelene, and damn but her new scissors are sharp. I light a candle for her. She was practically in tears (didn’t affect the quality of the cut) over being abruptly and without any real explanation dumped by her boyfriend.

I light a candle for the families of the dead and the slayer at Virginia Tech. I light two candles for the gal who survived both Columbine and Virginia Tech. Please God, not too many copycat killings.

Good night’s sleep

I finally got 7 straight hours of sleep (mind you when I woke up I disgorged about 4 world class loogies… but oh well).  As a result I no longer feel like I’m trailing a dark cloud of bleakness.  And I got some exercise in, so I’m almost, but not quite, perky.

Dr. Filk moves to Victoria on April 29th, where he will finally have access to enough guitars, enough filk, and enough cats.  Trebles all round.  Tom is watching his best helper disappear over the horizon with not much happiness.

Happy 4:20 to those of you who celebrate.  For your enhanced erudition, may I recommend the Wikipedia article on the provenance of this countercultural phenomenon.