I know that there is nothing more boring than some one writing about their dreams on the internet but I am totally going to fucking write about my dreams on the internet.
I have a lot of dreams about Art Alexakis (for those of you not clicking he is the lead singer of Everclear). Many of them are wildy inappropriate and several are not exactly rated PG-13. I am not sure when I became such a freaking groupie but at least these are sex dreams about some one I find attractive (unlike the alarming number I have about Pavarotti, most of which I am struggling underneath his fat ass but not oddly not screaming NO as I should be). But two days ago I had the delightful dream that Art came over and baked cookies with me (he enjoys my butterscotch and cinnamon oatmeal cookies as WELL HE SHOULD). After we had made several dozen and drank a bunch of wine he leans over to me and whispered to me, "I really love your blog."
That's hot people.
We got free tickets to the beginning of the WHL playoffs tonight. And I had one of the most excruciatingly awkward moments possible. The other two people with J's company tickets were a couple that I spent a lot of time with at his company holiday party. Well actually just with the wife, and since J had told the world that I was pregnant she and I talked quite a bit about it. And I could tell she was a little puzzled that I am obviously no longer pregnant.
And I had to tell her. And she felt bad. And she kept saying over and over how sorry she was. And my urge was to tell her I was fine. I mean I am. I am certainly not happy about it, and it isn't really ok but I guess I am ok. But I just felt bad because I made her feel bad about making me feel bad and damn that is just a stupid situation.
It's not her fault. She wasn't trying to hurt my feelings. There is no right thing to say.
But somehow we just ended up sitting there, not really looking at each other for a long time afterwards.