July 12th, 2007


(no subject)

Yow. I just had a complicated dream involving Pee Wee Herman, a series of really bizarre quests ("Find the grave of the Bicycle King!" "Kill the marauding Darklion!") me being an occasionally-disembodied ghost who was supposed to be helping Pee Wee, a male romantic lead who was short, blond, rangerish and missing part of his soul for unexplained reasons, and a few really hot moments (yes, I did blow off finding the grave of the Bicycle King in order to get laid. I have priorities, and if you're only occasionally embodied, you gotta take advantage of your corporeal moments.)

Just as it was building nicely--"I'm off to kill the Darklion! I'll come back for you!" "Woot!"--and it looked like we'd get the final apocalyptic battle scene, Pee Wee would slink back to his playhouse in disgrace, and possibly there would be celebratory corporeality afterwards--there was a knock on the door.

I woke up, staggered out of bed, signed for my new iPod, realized that I was never getting that dream back, and got up instead.


I recall the dialog being really romantic, but what I recall of it specifically was just completely nonsensical, which leads me to suspect that romance in dreams is like art in dreams--your brain is not generating either great art or romance, it is generating the sensation of having been exposed to it. Which is an interesting thought.

And now I have to go play with my iPod for awhile.

(no subject)

Last of the soap labels! (at least for now...I kinda like the notion of doing a limited edition soap every year or something, although we'll see how the first run goes and whether it makes Ellen want to run screaming into the night or not. Possibly it's just that I think an LE soap is just wonderfully absurd.)

Savage Orange Soap

I'll post as soon as on-line orders are available, of course!

I think I may go buy pants in celebration. I have dropped from a size 16 to a size 14, with the end result that I have two pairs of jeans that fit well and the rest are getting increasingly roomy. (Shirts are even worse--apparently I'm down to a medium in some brands. I haven't been a medium anything in YEARS.) I'm reluctant to buy more clothes, though, since I A) am cheap and B) don't know where my weight will stabilize, and I may be right back in the same boat in a few months.

It's a nice problem to have, but at the same time, it's kind of annoying to have stuff in your wardrobe you only got to wear a dozen times before it turned into a tent.

(no subject)

Overhead in the women's dressing room: "Damn! This dress done make me look like I gave up on life!"

I got some pants. Apparently now I'm a size 12. Sweet jesus. My ego and my wallet are locked in epic battle--"YAY! I haven't been this skinny since college!" vs. "Hey! Clothes don't grow on trees! Get a job, you damn hippie!"

I'm chalking it up to overwork, since I'm not dieting. Stress makes the metabolism go 'round!

Perhaps I'm just losing brain weight...