8/20/07: My new shoes make farting noises when I walk. This was most painfully brought to my attention while I was in the public library today. A very tight suction is formed between the top of the shoe and the top of my foot. Every time I take a step, the air farts its way out. It tickles a bit. I had to walk on my tip-toes out of the library.
(The offending footwear).
8/12/07: My dishwasher is possessed. It makes sounds like there is a gate to hell on the other side. I hear some kind of rhythmic other-worldy chanting going on. Brad doesn't hear it. It figures. The Door to the Underworld is behind the dishwasher... and he just tunes it out.
I also write notes on the back of my receipts; here's a few of my favorites:
6/09/07: "Had a wonderful dinner on the coast in Cambria. Brad, however, made derisive remarks about the feminist movement after I complained that if men did not exist, no woman on the planet would shave her legs. When I asked how he'd like it if I stopped shaving my legs, Brad replied that it would be heavenly. He then requested that I immediately stop shaving my left leg…but only the left."
6/16/07: "Sat next to an older couple eating breakfast while in Gualala. All I could think of was: that's Brad and I in 50 years. I hope those years are as wonderful and amazing as this year. It makes me think of how short my life is. And here I sit, furiously writing at breakfast, and Brad wants to leave. And he asks, 'can't you do that in the car?!'"
6/17/07: "Lunch in Olema. Brad says that my cheese smells stinky. And, sorry to say, it's true. (I had a cheese plate for dessert, and some of the cheeses were so disgustingly rank, I couldn't touch them).
Apart from my receipts, I also keep a sporadic dream journal. Here are a few of my favorites:
8/19/07: "I was lost in London, and went into a shop for directions. The man behind the counter was cutting something, and as I walked in, he cut off his finger. He held it up and said, "Oh dear, I better get a band-aid." I asked the man if he had any duct tape, because, "don't you know that duct tape can fix anything, even broken bones!" Sadly, he didn't know what duct tape was. I tried to describe what I was talking about, but in the end we agreed that the wondrous miracle of duct tape had not yet reached the sorry shores of England. Then I said, "Wait a minute, you Brits have universal health care! We can just go to a doctor!" And so we got in a cab and drove to the hospital."
11/21/06: "Weird dreams; very choppy. Dreamt I was teaching a parrot to say 'STOP BEATING ME!!' I really don't know what that was about."
6/5/01: "I dreamt that somehow I cut the middle part out of my cats. I don't remember actually cutting them, but I felt dreadfully responsible somehow. The cats were still running and leaping about the room like there was nothing wrong. But every once and awhile, you could see the air between their front and hind. There was no blood or anything, and the slice that came out of the middle reminded me of thick baloney…with fur around it, and a hole in the middle. This bit was squishy and I kept trying to put it back, but it was like trying to get the south side of a magnet to stick to another south side. One of the cats was under the bed chewing on Shiva's middle bit, and was furiously shaking it like a mouse. It seemed odd that the front of the cat and the back worked in unison but the middle bit was useless"
