Subconscious acting up

Snow!

Oh thank goodness. I've never been so glad to see white stuff than I am today. I mean that still means I've got to spend a good chunk of me morning taking care of it, but thank goodness for traction! :) I need to get me some winter cleats if this icy bullshit keeps up.

Hee, some people are out early. just saw someone glide by our house on x-country skis. Would love to learn to do that.

Put my bad mood to bed early early last night and was rewarded for my efforts with a scarily vivid dream that I had left something going or too close to the radiator in the front room of our house (the blue study) and I woke up in the middle of the night to find it aflame. Except it was weird aflame - there was lots of yellow flickering light and smoky goodness, but except for a little bit where it had spread to the living room, I never saw any flame. Anyway, I woke sundart up, and she went back to haul primitive_boy and beatgoddess out of bed, except they were already awake and were watching Mythbusters in her room, and were all like "yeah we know, we'll be down as soon as this episode is over." And on my way out I grabbed the cordless and called 911, and the call was picked up by the same guy who dispatches Morthampton Taxi, who boredly told me that it was going to be $348.50 for the engines, would I like to pay now by credit card or be billed later? Anyway, the trucks got here and did that thing they do, and it was really weird, because later in the dream we were told that the front room was pretty badly damaged but we walked in and it was fine. My computer was even still doing its equivelant of running.

Wow, I haven't had a dream that the house burned down in years. Not since South Street, anyway.

My other dream last night involved biking across Manhattan on my way to high school down an alien looking version of 23rd street, except I had to find a very particular black filmy scarf for some reason so I kept riding my bike through all these little shops and boutiques that all seemed to be run by the same overly solicitous black lady with a bald head and a thick lower Caribbean accent. Each of these stores had scarves galore, but none was the one I was looking for.

*sigh*

I don't want it to be Monday already.

When you're a kid and you wanna go weeeeeeeee but you have to shovel ice first...

Ugh. One hour, ten minutes, half of a gargantuan driveway (shoveling and ice breakage), the front walk, the front stoop, the back stoop, one micromanaging downstairs neighbor in her pajamas, and a partridge in a pear tree later, one very sweaty Andee come back into the kitchen more or less triumphant to claim her breakfast. Now I can get on the phone tonight for an assload of time with impunity. beeyotch.

So much for going to work early. *sigh*

And another day bites the dust...

Day over, man, Day over!

Apparently the cooking of pasta is a hazardous activity. rukasboy came into work today with one hand bandaged up from a serious mishap draining a very large pot of pasta this past weekend. He would make the second person to get second degree burns from a pasta accident this winter (gossamer_gull being the first). *shakes head* One more score for the Atkins sheep, it seems. Pasta's not only carbs, it's dangerous...

Other than that my day was fairly uneventful. Normally that's okay, but I'm still jittery-restless/depressed, so I could have used something to perk me up a little. Well, the walk home blasting Informatik into my ears helped a bit, but... meh. I hope this mood lifts soon, but in the meantime, boy howdy, am I a crankubus.

Ah well. I did rent DVD #3 of Queer as Folk, so hopefully I'll get to watch that tonight with the grrlz. I can't think of anything cheerier than day-glo homos in feather boas and cowboy hats and the angst that immediately follows them.

Man, I hate moods like this...

I. Am. Slowly. Going. Crazy. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. (Switch.)
Crazy. Going. Slowly. Am. I. Six. Five. Four. Three. Two. One. (Switch.)

I am slowly going crazy, one two three four five six (switch);
crazy going slowly am i, six five four three two one (switch).

i-am-slowly-going-crazy-one-two-three-four-five-six-switch,
crazy-going-slowly-am-i-six-five-four-three-two-one-switch.

iamslowlygoingcrazyonetwothreefourfivesixswitch
crazygoingslowlyamisixfivefourthreetwooneswitch

Now we are six. :)

My inner child is six years old!

Look what I can do! I can walk, I can run, I can
read! I like to do stuff, and there's a whole
big world out there to do it in. Just so long
as I can take my blankie and my Mommy and my
three best friends with me, of course.


How Old is Your Inner Child?
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Six is also when...

• I decided dresses were icky.
  
• got glasses
  
• decided I really liked computers
  
• had my first crush (Michael Tracy - sweet and as geeky as you can get in first grade. Oh and we had the same birthday.)
  
• changed schools
  
• started learning French
  
• threw my first rock stuffed snowball
  
• wrote nothing but Dukes of Hazzard fanfic (I should find that sometime, it was funny stuff) and also threw a fit in Alexander's until Mom begrudgingly bought me some Dukes of Hazzard Dr. Dentons. My it must have killed her to see her little black daughter parading around the house in pajamas emblazoned with the General Lee (and thus, the confederate flag). And I used to wonder why the hell she wouldn't let me wear those to sleepovers.