My birthday month is still going strong! Niku The Twin brought me a gorgeous birthday card that cannot be topped:


Listen, Neil.

I just stopped following you on Twitter because I couldn't stand your updates. Everything is saturated in "I just read my children a bedtime story that I wrote, involving magic".  And I tried really hard to ignore it, but no more – I simply could give a fuck less about what you have to say.

Come to think of it, I didn't much enjoy your novels, either.

And seriously? Linking to someone gushing over your own signature bath fizzle?

Not my brand of hero.

Dream Record

I’m with someone, company I’ve forgotten but assume could have been family or friends, and I decide to enter a building that resembles an old western ballroom.

The floor is occupied with people standing and seated. There is a line forming toward the front on the left and right. I suddenly feel like I’ve made the wrong decision, as those lines are full of old classmates who I had spent several years with but didn’t particularly like. It was the IRL nonsense of Myspace.

I spot Mandi in line, and am informed that there is some woman front and center, signing autographs to one side, then another. She was the voice of Ariel, Disney’s Little Mermaid.

“Are you kidding me?” I ask Mandi. “Let me guess, you’ll try to sell it on Ebay. At least that might make this worth it.”

“No way, I’m not selling it!” she answers, and it feels like she is high-spirited in a direction far from me.

I feel my original company’s abandonment but it does not stop me from tagging along with Mandi. Now we are in her mother’s car, sitting in the back. I look up front and she has driven into an alley that is sealed with brick at the end. She has a hard time backing up straight and I get annoyed. Soon we are stopped as if about to plunge into the river ahead, just a foot away from rolling right down into it, and Mandi’s mother can’t figure out why the car is stalled.

She gets out to check something. I get fearful and yell, “MANDI.”

“MANDI!” I am demanding, and sure enough the car is shaky, “I am NOT walking up out of this river tonight.”

The car steadily enters the river and swiftly sinks. Our windows were down and I have taken a deep breath, turned myself around and grabbed the top of the window ledge to propel myself out. It works well enough but is hard to rise to the surface very quickly. I paddle exaggeratedly and Mandi understands my frustration. She grabs the back of my shirt and I seem to be surfacing more quickly. We are okay.

In a large house full of women. We should be doing something cool or possibly working, but I find songbooks by a piano and start playing familiar tunes. Everyone is singing along. I look over and see someone from work, Ken, alienated in a lounge chair. I consider the embarrassment of our lame nature but see that he is nodding his head as if he understands – we just wanted to sing stupid songs.

Something has happened to Tera from Owosso. I am being investigated. They hand me a photo – Tera is running along, her head up and caught mid-laugh, under a hot sun. It is one of those shots where you can tell someone was really living. Then I look in the background and I am just a few feet behind her, walking on sand, wearing a floppy hat.

Oh, look at me, I think. I hope I enjoyed that moment and try to figure out how long it has been since I’ve gone somewhere like that.

A video plays. There is footage of the two of us running around between sand dunes, criss-crossing through a crowd. We don’t blend in – we are wearing brightly colored, costume-looking geisha dresses. She got layers of red and I was stuck in lime green poofs with black leather parts. Everyone else is neutral.

“Man we look so GAY. But don’t we look good!” I muse, noting the activity and our running around.

In the last segment, some guy is accused of lieing. I remember old men circled around him, pointing. He says something they cannot decipher as a lie, but there are spirits who can and their pointing hands extend from the freshy ones, creating a double circle of pointed fingers. Sadly, the rest of that whole segment has faded.

Busy night of dreaming.

What WE did today.

I selected this year’s flowers! We spent 4-5 hours working steadily – thankfully the air was cool. Nick, you can see the big picture for yourself when you come down for my birthday!

Now to apply aloe to my burned face. :) I am proud. This was completed after a night of heavy drinking and screaming/singing along to rhythm action games with Nicole. I am the best.