Monday, February 22, 2010

Positively Providential

I promised myself that I would not get all preachy on here, but then I remembered it's my blog and I can do what I want. I've had a lot of time to look at providence these days. Being out of work for two months can do that to you. (Yes, it is two months today.)

Whenever I think of providence I remember a scene in the Anne of Green Gables movie. When Anne arrives with her adoptive parents, it is discovered that a mistake has been made. They wanted a boy to help with the farm, so they decide to send her back to the orphanage. When Marilla drives Anne over to return her the woman says, "Just this morning Mrs. Blewett was telling me how she would like a little girl." Then Mrs. Blewett shows up and the lady says, "Why there she is now, I call this positively providential." There is a short conversation that shows just how unhappy Anne would be living with this crabby lady. (Another favorite line, "I don't know but the wiry ones work the hardest.") Marilla says that she doesn't know and she really should talk to Matthew before she makes the decision to return Anne and she turns back home.

I love this scene because it shows providence works the opposite of how we think. God knows how we work, He knows just what will push us one way or another. Marilla didn't care about doing what was right at that moment, she just wanted to spite someone she despised. That may not seem like providence, but it was the only thing that would make Marilla reconsider her decision. The point to me is that it doesn't really matter what we do or why, when something is meant to be it will be. We think providence provides for us, when really providence is making sure that it all goes down the way it is supposed to. Like those Greek tragedies where people desperately try to avoid the outcome that the oracle predicts and in the end it is their very actions that lead to the fulfillment of the prophecies.

That and I think God has a sense of humor. He enjoys watching us try to make things go the way we want, when in reality we just end up right where He wants us. The difference when we try to force the outcome instead of letting it happen is that the path is rockier and harder than it had to be. Don't get me wrong. I do believe that we can muck things up by making bad decisions. It's just that as long as we are living our lives trying to do the right thing, the right thing will happen in spite of our mistakes and rebellions. It is when we stop trying to do the right thing that life will spiral out of control. It can be fixed even after we destroy it, but that takes us giving up everything we've set out to attain and going back to the beginning. Sometimes that is just too hard and that is when a life loses its way. I've done that a couple of times. Frankly, I'd rather not go down that road again. It's not worth destroying myself just to prove I can.

I am going with the flow these days. It's easy to be relaxed when I remember about providence. It reminds me that I don't have to worry about screwing things up or making a bad decision. Providence will auto correct my course for me. That is what it does. It doesn't hurt that I don't have any other options right now. I have to trust that or go nuts with worry. I've got enough crazy, I think I'll pass on another helping.

Saturday, February 20, 2010

Hmm, OK

I haven't posted in a couple of days and I promised myself I would. It's just been weird. I have screwed up my neck with all my couch time, so I am in a lot of pain. Plus, I went to the doctor and he said I should be ok in a couple of weeks. I was so excited I started cleaning up the house yesterday. Which means that I woke up today exhausted and in lots of pain again. Basically I am a mess right now. Fortunately, I had the weirdest dream two nights ago. And when I woke up I wrote it all down because I wanted to look up things in a dream dictionary to find out what the heck is going on in my head. What follows is what I got up and wrote. I am feeling particularly lazy, so I read through it once to clean it up, but didn't really edit it.

I just dreamed that I was married to Brenden Fraiser and he loved my butt. Most specifically how it was placed on my body. I know because he was on David Letterman and said so. Then the dream shifted. To a wedding reception but it was a video game. I had set the time wrong so it ended at 10:00 am instead of pm and all the guests were still arriving after the game was over, so the wedding couple couldn’t leave. And then I was watching Brenden and I at the reception in real (dream) life, but his ex-fiancĂ©, Jennifer Anisten was there with her new fiancĂ© and it was I was all weirded out and uncomfortable. But our wedding coordinator was even more uncomfortable because Jennifer and Brenden’s last coordinator was there. I looked over and it was Fun Bobby from Friends on a bench in a tux. When you zoomed in he was talking with a horrible fake French accent to a lady. When you zoomed in closer the lady was himself in drag as Fun Bobby sober. All of a sudden it was a sitcom and you could hear the laughing in the background as the girl Fun Bobby said to herself that she had made the right choice to come to this wedding because she was taking him home. Finally a guy worth her time. But, it was all monotone and without smiling. Meanwhile, boy Fun Bobby just prattled away in the background all about how Jennifer and Brenden couldn’t make a decision to save their lives and it was horrible working for them because neither of them had an opinion and it drove him insane and he was so glad not to be working this wedding. I think he was wearing a wig that was a semi-mullet.

Upstairs. I remember the guests climbing stairs and me looking over the banister. Oh, at one point when I played the video game, Brenden was apologizing for embarrassing me on national tv and we were at my childhood home in the playroom in front of the sliding glass doors. (The tv was in front of them.) Then the back wall opened up and that was where the guests from the video game kept arriving to and then the couple (Brenden and I) had to go up stairs and escort them instead of leaving for our honeymoon which was when in turned back into real (dream) life. I remember thinking that he didn’t have to apologize because I had totally screwed up the wedding time on the invitations.


So, that’s what it is like to be in my head at night.

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

Big Sister Lobster-Possum Wrestling Technique Revealed!

Below are the 10 simple steps to keep control of your younger brother when he does eventually grow much bigger than you. I generally use this when he doesn't let me have my way. Sometimes I just do it for fun.

1. Get within hearing distance of mom.

2. Start to pinch your brother.

3. When he grabs your wrists to immobilize you, start yelling, "Ow, my wrists. You're hurting me! Let go of my wrists!"

4. Mother will start yelling from the other room, "Let go of her! You are going to break her arms! You can't grab at her wrists like!" (At this point, you can grin at your brother as long as you continue to cry out.)

5. Continue to try and pinch your brother so that he maintains control of your wrists to defend himself.

6. When mom enters the room stop pinching and collapse to your knees. Writhing in agony is always a plus.

7. Brother will eventually realize what you are doing and only lightly encircle your wrists.

8. This will only make the situation funnier when mom yells at him some more while he tries to show her that he isn't doing anything and you are only making it all up.

9. Brother will leave the room in disgust as it is a no win situation for him.

10. Thank your mom for her help to ensure she reacts appropriately the next time.

Feel free to silently laugh at your brother from a view where he can see you, but mom cannot. I find that hugging her so that I can look over her shoulder is the most effective method.


Tuesday, February 16, 2010

Where Am I?

I have very bizarre and vivid dreams. However, if I don't write them down or talk about them right away, I tend to forget them very quickly. I should have done this post earlier, but I am sick and I didn't feel like it. I will eventually feel better, so I am taking advantage of this time to do whatever I want as it hopefully will not last forever. Anyhoo, last night I dreamed about a new job. I have dreamed about at least five of my previous jobs before I actually had them.

Apparently it runs along the maternal line in my family. I know my mom dreamed about us kids before she had us and she did tell my once that Granny, her mother, had prophetic dreams as well. Of course my mom loves the crack sometimes, so it may have been the high talking. I always tell her to put the pipe down when she starts talking crazy but sometimes it takes me a minute to differentiate between family idiosyncrasies and drug abuse. This doesn't mean I get every job that I dream about or that I dream about every job I get. Or even that I have an opinion about ESP or anything like that. In fact, if you were to talk to me about psychic phenomenon, I would conveniently forget this little fact about myself and tell you it is mostly crap and can be explained away, you know spiritually. So, um yeah. (Hmm, out of the crazy pan and into the fanatic fire.)

First off, I found this job in a city that I keep visiting in dream land. I am not sure where this city is and since I have been all over the country I think it is more a combo of a few different places. In my dream it is always my hometown. I apologize for any offense, but even when I am dreaming it freaks me out to think that I am back. But, this place also has elements of Portland, New Orleans French Quarter and some other nameless southern town. If you know where I grew up, I always end up in the industrial area between the city lines.

Anyhoo, I get this job working for a very charismatic sales guy. He is extremely excited about starting this new business. He has dark hair, talks with his hands in a very loud voice and looks like one of the sales guys on an infomercial. I am helping him set up his office as I am his new assistant and he keeps asking for my opinion on things. The funny thing is, I am really annoyed by all his chatter and can't wait for him to get customers so that he isn't constantly interrupting me with questions and asking my opinion. If you know me at all that is very counter-realistic as I LOVE to give my opinion on everything. So the fact that this guy is very interested in my thoughts and wants me to be involved while I just want him to go away is weird.

At one point we have this conversation about music. He asks who my favorite bands are because he wants his office to be different than other offices. When clients come in, he wants them to get a totally different feel. So, we should play unusual music in the lobby. Like his favorite bands are The Avalanches and someone else I can't remember. I am impressed by the fact that he knew who The Avalanches are. At this point, I all of a sudden want to give a good answer, but I can’t think of anything. I frantically search my brain for an artist who has more than one cd in my collection, but all I can think to tell him is Linkin Park. He gets very excited and says that is perfect. Even in my dream, I think that it is not a good idea for prospective clients, but sounds great to me since I will be working as the receptionist also and won’t be forced to listen to crap music while I stare out the window all day.

He moves on to another subject, and more to my style, I interrupt off topic and say Jimmy Eat World. He says alright, but he likes the Linkin Park idea better. This whole time I am unpacking boxes. Then I drive around a bit looking at the city. Then I wake up.

So that is it. Either Billy Mayes has randomly decided to haunt my dreams, or my dream job is to work at a start-up company selling some nameless product or service to the masses. I choose Billy Mayes, because if I ever have to work as a receptionist again, I may do harm to myself or others. And that will totally ruin any chances I have of eventually becoming a doctor. Which I really don’t want either so I guess it doesn’t matter.

Monday, February 15, 2010

The Geekiest Thing I Have Ever Done

I just sorted all of my DC Comics by original publication date. I thought it might be interesting to read them in order and see how they evolve. The funniest part of the whole thing was that since I have mono and ADD, I kept picking up piles and leaving them all over the house. Just when I thought I was finished, I would look up and see another pile somewhere. I don't think I ever realized how many comic books I owned. And these are just the DC comics.

Speaking of geeky. I am going to have to go on record and say that AVP (Alien Vs. Predator) was the biggest geek letdown of my life. That movie was so disappointing that I watched it twice because I didn't remember that I had already seen it. I thought of that today as I was going through all the Batman/Superman Alien/Predator comics. What a crock of crap! I waited for years for that to be produced.

I am prattling because I am tired and a little headachy today. So that is all I have to say. I am going to go check the mail and see if anyone sent me chocolate. That's the nice thing about mono. It doesn't matter if it is a postal holiday if you only check the mail once a week.

Sunday, February 14, 2010

Happy Valentine's Day

I just want to dedicate this post to the three loves of my life today.

Goldie, Bacon and Batman.

My life would be unbearable without you.

Goldie shows me happiness by reminding me that I choose how I to react to life is my choice.

Bacon gives me joy. Meat candy ya'll, what is more joyful than that?

Batman reminds me of peace. I can't change the world, I just have to do whatever right thing I can. And sometimes, that means kicking a little ass.

And NO, I don't have to tell you that I love God because He already knows that. He doesn't mind sharing the spotlight once since He created the big 3 to begin with. Plus, even if you can't take a joke, He can. So, don't judge me, or you will make baby Jesus cry and then who will the bad guy be? YOU WILL! Do you want to ruin baby Jesus' Valentine's Day? I didn't think so.

Happy Valentine's Day!

Saturday, February 13, 2010

Fanfare Please

I left the house today. A friend picked me up. We went got a bagel and coffee. Then we went grocery shopping.

When I got home, I found that my brother had followed through on his promise to send me his Nintento 64 and a bunch of games.

This is the best day of mono ever!

It helps that I am feeling a little better. Who knows maybe I'll be able to go to work again and once more be a productive member of society. I talked to a coworker yesterday. Apparently this whole being out of work for 53 days has done wonders for my image at the office. My boss misses me, but that was to be expected. I run his life. (His mom called me once to confirm the existence of travel insurance. Her other son was trying to assure her that she could buy tickets eight months in advance. She stopped him by saying that she would have to call me first to talk about it before she made a decision. How much would it suck for your mom to tell you that she didn't believe you and she was going to call your brother's assistant to double check your information?) I knew he would miss me. It was the rest of the office I was worried about.

There have been complaints that I spend my time on frivolous things. Here are a list of things I have been asked to do over the years:

1. Research a list of famous people named Art.
2. Find a handgun either non-working, or replica that looks real.
3. Find a local burrito company that will ship frozen burritos to his son in Rhode Island.
4. Find the contact information for the Marketing Director of Philips Norelco so that he can send his electric razor back to them with suggestions.
5. Purchase 25 Magic 8-Balls and figure out a way to affix our logo to them so that we could give them out as "Financial Advisers" to our clients as gifts after the capital markets went into the toilet.
6. Manufacture a scroll that was at least twenty feet long.
7. Design and construct heart glasses and skull & crossbones glasses.
8. Find a doorbell that can ring to a cellphone.
9. Researching any and all products that he finds in the Sky Mall catalog.

These are in addition to my normal office duties like finding a Sandra or Sheila or some name that sounds like that who worked with HUD one time as an attorney. To the casual observer and the other brokers in the office, it appears that I waste a lot of time surfing the web and goofing off. What they never realized is that when I am doing all of this, my boss is not being distracted by all of these ideas.

Since I have been gone, my friend reported that several people have been overheard to be saying that they cannot wait for me to get back to work because He is all over the place. Because I am gone, he is desperately trying to help as much as possible so as not to overburden others. Which means they have to undo everything he does to put it back together again. My coworker told me she has never heard so many people muttering before. They never realized how much of a buffer I provide for them. I probably shouldn't be gloating but I am.

I should have been laid off last year. We have three assistants in an office that went from 29 to 16 people. That office doesn't need three assistants right now. We barely did any deals last year. But, my boss needs me and put himself on the line to keep me. When asked to write out a responsibility list I was ready to go, until I was told to just lump together all of the duties that I perform for him. Here is what that looked like.

1. His tasks.
2. Sort mail.
3. Data Entry.

Doesn't make much of a resume on paper does it? I guess there are just some things that can't be described in words. So, yeah, I'm going to gloat.

By the way, out of all the things I have done for him, the thing he brags about the most is the personalized, rechargeable, Starbucks gift card I got for him (with his own money). He shows that thing off for everyone. It has his name and his drink printed right on the card. Just a little thing, but his makes his life easier. Which makes everyone's life easier as we now all know. And knowing is half the battle. GI JOE!

Friday, February 12, 2010

Beauty by Mono

This whole mono thing has had some surprisingly awesome side effects.

1. I am trying to grow my hair out again. I have beautiful hair. The problem is the longer my hair gets, the younger I look. Not younger in a sexy way, younger in a childish way. It's a little weird. I get more respect when my hair is short; the attitude difference is amazingly noticeable.
I am hoping that I now look old enough to sport the long hair again without being treated like a simpleton. When I got sick, I had just gotten to the very awkward not short, not medium length. This is the point I usually give in and cut my hair off again. After two months of mono, my hair is awesome. It's rockstar shaggy and just at my shoulders.

2. I haven't lost more than a pound by being sick, but previous to my bed rest I had shed 20 pounds. I had been a little obsessed with numbers and had failed to notice how great I looked. Now that I am walking by a mirror ten times a day somewhat skimpily dressed, I have had time to notice that I am looking well. I have been through a lot in the last year and I just couldn't get my head out of my cute butt to see how beautiful I am inside and out.

3. I have had a lot of time to reflect on who I am and what I want. Finding myself while I have been ill has led to seeing myself in a more favorable light. I am awesome, I know it and it shows.
Attitude is everything in this world. People see you as you see yourself. Confidence, or the lack of, shows in the way you smile, carry yourself, look people in the eye and interact with others.

4, 5, and 6, Other little things add to the complete package. My nails are gorgeous. My house is a mess, but my hands look amazing. My eyebrows have fully grown in again. So, I can finally go back to the ultra full brow that I love without all the awkward mess that ensues when they grow in naturally. I now have Angelina Jolie lips. Mono makes me extra tired which means extra clumsy. Last night as I flopped into bed, I flopped my face onto my laptop and split my lip. This morning, they are a little sore, but I had to laugh because whacked my mouth squarely in the center so they swelled up evenly top and bottom and both sides.

So basically, I am ready to date again. I feel good about myself and I look hot. Except that I am carrying the kissing disease, I am totally good to go.

Thursday, February 11, 2010

Humility - Brought to you by the letters PMS and the number mon0

Pride and fear of dependence are two things I have problems with in my life. I am afraid to let people do things for me. I want to be independent. I also have a history of people holding things over my head. They are the type of people who keep a running list of who has done what in a relationship. Actually it is more of a list of what they have done for me in a relationship. The list always comes out in the middle of an argument. It's like they think that they have the right to win any disagreement by recounting every favor they have done me whether I wanted it or not. So, over the years I try not to ask for anything or take anything even when offered.

I have been trying to get over that in the last year. I have failed miserably as evidenced by the fact that even with mono, I have tried my best to circumvent asking for or accepting any help whenever possible. Because of my unwillingness to admit that I am human, yesterday I had a temper tantrum that was on par with a two year old being told they can’t pour their own milk while their older sibling can. It consisted of me crying so hard I made myself hyperventilate and gag because my body couldn’t breathe or swallow while I screamed at the heavens at my cruel, cruel fate that left me barely hanging on. Hello drama queen. Talk about gaining perspective.

After I threw my giant, self-inflicted pity party, I put my big girl panties on. I have accepted seven offers of help in the last 24 hours. Is my whole world falling apart because I admit that I need help? No. Am I able to rest easier knowing that people care for me and I am taken care of? Grudgingly, I can answer yes. I guess sometimes I have to act like a child to realize I need to grow up.

So thank you PMS and Mono for making me come to my senses. Not that I really needed your help. I would have caved eventually. After all, I am out of bacon.

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

Party at the Middle Aged Home!

I have always thought that everyone comes to a place when basically your fashion sense stops evolving. My friends and I used to mock the idea. We knew it happened, we just knew it would never happen to us. We studied the latest fashion magazines before we went shopping. We refitted our wardrobe every season with new items to keep up to date. I loved clothes too much to think it could ever happen to me. But, without the slightest struggle, it did happen.

Looking back it all seems so obvious. I can see now the exact moment in time when I threw the towel in. I had just gotten my new issues of Lucky, W and Jane all at once. I went through each magazine as I normally did and folded down the corners of pages with outfits I liked. After I had gotten through all of the mags, I realized that I had only folded down 2 or 3 pages. So, I went back again and added pages with things I sort of liked. Finally I widened my search to include pages with items that I liked instead of outfits. Still I found virtually nothing.

All of a sudden I felt tired and strangely bored. I was confused. I didn't understand what was going on. I actually told someone, "I am going to sit this season out. There isn't one redeeming article of clothing to even bother with." It all happened so fast, I didn't see what I was doing. How could I have been so blind to the fact that I had started calling it in? Fashion pitched me four curve balls after that; I only managed to hit a piece of one.

It all started with the skinny jean. I just could not believe that anyone would wear those. They only looked good on a body that could be confused for a 12-year-old boy. Any woman with hips would never be able to wear them respectfully. I labeled them as a fad that would soon be gone. Strike one.

Right on the tail of the skinny jeans debut, came the ballet flat. Now those were cute. I just couldn't wear them because of knee issues. Really? Knee issues? Strike two.

The babydoll soon followed and I was at a loss. I embraced that look in high school. But now that I had an admirable set of ta tas, there was no way to wear one without looking pregnant. Even though I didn't have a belly, my girls pushed the top out past the point of no return. The flared bottom that should have fallen in folds over my figure, just tented out, leaving me enough room to shoplift an entire pumpkin if necessary. So, instead I found a few empire wasted tops that did me justice. Foul Ball.

Leggings. I struck out looking.

That was a few years ago. I didn't recognized that my glory days had passed me by.
I still went shopping, but I bought less and less. I rarely purchased items that weren't duplicates of something I already owned. When I did find something new I bought multiple colors of the same thing. Forever 21 became false advertisement. I got a credit card from The Limited so I could by things that I could wear both in and out of the office.

A few weeks ago I got a catalog from Delia's. As I was silently mocking the grunge plaids and hippie wear that was being recycled for the second time, it hit me like a ton of bricks that I didn't care anymore what was trendy. I suppose if Twenties me met Thirties me, I would slap myself for the betrayal. But Thirties me would block and say, "Here's a flash from the future. You will never wear that $70 sweater because you will grow boobs. Those $100 pink pants will only be worn as a part of a Halloween costume. And, the $250 pair of boots won't fit when you find out you have to wear arch supports to avoid knee surgery." And then Thirties me will drop kick Twenties me back to the past for wasting that money. Because I totally need a new dishwasher.

Sunday, February 7, 2010

Ode to My Mom

Ten years ago, I tried to get her to use email so we could communicate more often after I moved to Denver. Her first and last email to me for eight years was, "I hope you are happy. I am now going to Hell because you are making me use an instrument of the Devil to write this message."

So when I told her about my blog yesterday afternoon, the most I expected was indifference. Instead,
the first words out of her mouth were, "Did you write about bacon? You HAVE to write about bacon!" This is when I realized that while I thought I was doing this for myself, I am actually writing this for her. Follow along and you will see why.

My mom called me back later in the evening because she had read my blog and wanted to comment on Goldie, but wasn't sure how to log in and could I walk her through the process. Also she was very upset that I didn't have any followers so she had to follow me so that I can have at least one.

While I was signing her up, I randomly mention, "Did you know that I am a robot?"

She nonchalantly replies, "Of course I know you are a robot. I'm your mom. I picked you up from the manufacturing plant when you were a baby."

What I meant was I can never read those pop up texts that ensure you are not some spambot. She had no clue what I was talking about, but it didn't even phase her. Weirdo.

After she had read through the other posts, she announced her idea on my next subject. I am not making this up, and this will explain SO much about who I am.

She tells me that my next post has to be about bunny slippers and how it is so scary to wear them. Because they have eyes. And you can't wear dresses and bunny slippers because they might peek at your underwear.

I love my mom.

She ended the conversation by telling me that I am her favorite daughter and her other two daughters don't compare. I assumed she meant my sister-in-laws which shocked me into silence*. So, she immediately followed up with, "I meant your brothers." Which turned a wildly misplaced statement into a totally awesome FACE! It is the long awaited for comeback to all the "your mama" jokes my brothers have told to each other over the years. Thank God she waited until I was blogging to finally say something insulting. About the boys. She has slammed me on more than one occasion.

Unlike the rest of the family's witty repartee, these jokes are always a little dazing. Mostly because she rarely says anything that might be construed as mean. But when she does a) she beats everyone else to the joke, which says a lot in my family; b) always sounds like she has been practicing the line for years waiting for that exact moment; and c) delivers it perfectly, generating a split-second of silence as everyone glances around awkwardly at each other to figure out if she is joking. Then the room dissolves into laughter. Meanwhile, I am left contemplating the fact that I was just burned by my mom and trying to
decide if I should be offended or proud.

Hint: I am always proud. Thanks for being my first follower.


*This totally horrified and shocked me into silence because she has taught me that when we marry, our spouses ARE her children and our family and they WILL be treated equally. Which is why I am doubly thankful that my sisters are absolutely amazing because it made the whole idea a no brainer. And also why I am very sorry. But you guys knew what you were marrying into, so maybe just kind of sorry.

Saturday, February 6, 2010

Mono is Giving Me Carpal Tunnel

Because I only feel good when I am lying down, I have been typing in this really weird position. I have been lying down slightly propped up on one arm of the loveseat; my feet up on the other arm; and my computer half on my thighs and half on my stomach. This is making me type with my arms all wonky. I thought it was just the mono when my arms started aching. Last night, I realized it is my horrible posture. So now I have pushed the laptop further forward so it is in fact a laptop and not a bellytop.

But today I am feeling even worse than normal, so I doubt I will be typing much at all. This is a particularly bad mono day where I am too tired to do anything, but not tired enough to sleep. I have been striving not be grumpy. I started failing at that after the 43rd day of being sick. I think it is time to call out the big anti-grumpy guns and throw on a Goldie Hawn movie. The day that fails to cheer me up will be the worst day of my life. And folks, that day is not today.

Goldie Hawn is my hero. If you are wondering why, the simplest explanation I can give is that when she was a little girl and people would ask her what she wanted to be when she grew up, here answer was, "Happy." That isn't the original reason why I started idolizing her, but it explained everything I do like about her. So, I'm just sticking to that.

There is oh so much more for me to say on the Goldie subject. But, I really do feel like crap on toast and it is making me ill just to type so that will have to do for now.

Batman Calls Me Black Lightning

True story. I had a dream once that I suddenly developed the ability to fly. Once the Justice League found out about my powers they assigned a mentor to me. That mentor was Batman. It was the most amazing dream I have ever had. In order to be trained, I had to help battle the bad guys. Which totally scared the crap out of me because flying was my only power. I didn't have invincibility or anything like that, so I was constantly in a state of panic that I was going to get shot and killed. In order to avoid this I developed an attack where I would wait really high in the sky until I targeted someone. Then I would fly in as fast as I could feet first and kick the villain in the head. Then, using their head as a trampoline, I would shoot back into the stratosphere. (Imagine how people look going down a water slide, slightly panicked and rigid as a board. That was my flying pose.) I totally wore these giant think black boots (with silver buckles) so if I got shot, the only thing that they would hit were my feet and I would take less damage. This just goes to show you what a crap superhero I would be. I'm sure I would have eventually been downgraded to a side kick.

I started seeing a rapid succession of newspapers flash in front of me. You know the screen in the movies where they show the newspapers from far away and then bring them closer spinning them as they go. Then they stop the paper just short of the camera and you read only the most prominent headline then show the next spinning article coming at you. (Unless you are me and then I totally try to read the smaller headlines because occasionally someone will care enough to put a really inane one out to the side and I want to reward their attention to detail.) These headlines start flashing, "Black Lightning Interrupts Bank Heist," "Black Lightning Rescues 10 From a Fire," "Who is Black Lightning?" Except I don't think I remembered the exact titles when I woke up. I'd have to find the notebook that I wrote it all down in and I am too tired to do that right now. Anyway, I ask Batman who this new guy Black Lightning is and he just gives his "I can't believe I got stuck with someone so stupid" look and tells me that I am Black Lightning. The press had started calling me that because that was all you could see of my attacks. Batman then tells me I have officially completed my training and hands me a costume that he has constructed for me. (I say constructed because I can't imagine Batman sewing. That just seems wrong.) It is all black and a lightning insignia in the center of the chest. At which point Batman gives me the "I look all mean and harsh on the outside, but secretly I am fond of you and want you to fight on Team Batman."

It is at this point in the dream that I consider asking him to ditch Robin or pass him off to Superman. Because even in my dreams, I couldn't imagine Robin as being cool. He was insanely annoying, whiny and all goody two-shoes. I didn't like Superman either for pretty much the same reasons, but I had a grudging respect for him since he was the leader. Batman and I are crouching behind a rock on top of this cliff. Robin shows up and tells us, "It's starting." That's when the dream gets really insane, but I can't remember the details and really need to find my notebook before I go any further.

So, is this not the coolest dream ever? Even if you told me no, I would never believe you. I can't remember if I had the dream before I read Kingdom Come, or if it was recommended that I read it after I told someone my dream. Either way, it is awesome!

The point of all of this? Robin is a pansy and needs to man up or get some insanely amazing powers so that it excuses his behavior.

Friday, February 5, 2010

How to Avoid Losing Weight with Mono

Two words: Bacon Fries

Yes. I did. I swear the fever made me do it. I had made Bacon and then when I went back to make fries a couple of hours later, I saw the pan. Just sitting there. All full of Bacony goodness and drippings and I did it. I fried the french fries in the Bacon grease and may God have mercy on my soul (and ass), but they were Fanfreaking Tastic. So good, I had to split that word in two so that you MIGHT be able to understand.

Now, I know that some of you are going to get freaked out that I used Bacon grease that had been sitting there for a couple of hours, but I can totally assure you that after frying the crap out of that, there were no freaking bacterias or germs left. Do you know how scalding hot that is? Have you ever stuck your hand in Bacon grease? Case closed.

Besides, I have mono and no energy to clean out a pan of perfectly good Bacon grease just so that I can add more Bacon grease from the fridge.

Yes, I keep my Bacon grease, don't judge me! I love all of the Bacon, even the grease. I am not one of those prejudicial people who only find uses for the parts they find attractive and then discard the rest. I am a purist, a realist and a true lover of Bacon. I don't try to change it. I revel in all of the wanton unhealthiness of it all.

Either accept the fact that you love and will eat Bacon no matter how bad it is for you or shut the hell up and go buy that crappy turkey-doesn't-even-deserve-to-be-called-bacon-with-a-lower-case-b and be done. If you can't accept Bacon for what it is, then you don't deserve to feel the love Bacon has to give. Bacon has moved on. Bacon has evolved! Bacon doesn't need your half assed excuses for why it will never be good enough. Bacon doesn't even want to be good enough. Bacon is leaving YOU this time. Yes, Bacon knows you have tried to put it aside before. Bacon isn't blind. Bacon knows you have fallen into the trap of the media and cannot look on it without shame. Bacon knows you have lied about eating it to your friends, your family and even yourself just to look good in your food journal on your daily calorie count. You only want to count the good foods in your life. You hide Bacon because you think it is wrong. Well, Bacon thinks you are wrong! Bacon has had enough of never measuring out proportionately to fit *your* idea of healthy standards. Bacon will no longer be subjected to *your* idea of nutritional value. Nothing will convince Bacon to stay in your home. Bacon has broken up with you. Bacon is leaving you. But Bacon can't drive or even walk. For once, do the right thing by Bacon. Fulfill Bacon's needs and wishes you selfish SOB! Pack Bacon up and drive it to a safe place where it can be truly loved for all that it is.

I am a safe place. Bring Bacon to me. I will nurture it, love it and give it the respect it deserves. In my belly.