May 17, 2004

9:46 a.m.

All that Glitters

Ack, aaack! I woke up from a dream where a) I couldn't find anything to wear for the fabulous sparkly formal dinner/gig/celebration that was starting RIGHT NOW, and b) then I was slightly incontinent in my bed and all the bathrooms were in use by old people. No, no, I DREAMED I was incontinent, you boobs, it didn't really happen!! How many bathrooms do you think I have? But it was vivid enough that, when I did get up, I looked back and checked my sheets. In the dream I actually was planning on buying Depends. Arghhhh! I'm not old yet! I don't wear Birkenstocks with sexy red dresses! And why didn't I just bang on the bathroom door and yell, "Get out of there, Grandma, it's a Code Yellow!" Why was I so unassertive? Do I feel like I'm OUT OF CONTROL of my life?? Is my bladder my life? Are these strangers that people my dreams my life? Is my inadequate wardrobe my life?

Imagine my relief (and consternation) this morning when I learned that the wardrobe issue is so easily resolved with the sensible addition of a tiara.

I know I can always count on sound advice from hissandtell. Who in the world is going to notice my Birkenstocks when I have this glittery, regal, diamond-studded circlet on my noggin? And who would notice that I'm in that awkward, unstylish, hair-growing-out stage for that matter? The more jewels, the greater the sins it will hide. Thanks, Hiss.

As for the piddling, though, I did wee a lot of dogs yesterday. Went to Rose's, and while she was painting the garage doors and Mike was mowing the front lawn, I took the dogs out in ones and twos and oversaw their bizness. Also played "almost fetch the stick" with the puppy, who has gained 6 lbs. in three weeks. He still has a minute (read "my-NOOT") attention span and is hard to pet because he's a moving target. The wee dogs are holding on, both rather skinny but black and white dog is a little better from her mysterious stomach thing, and black dog doesn't seem to eat on alternate days. Lucy Hound is in excellent health and loves taking Pup Calvin's entire head in her mouth, or hanging onto his back leg as he's trying to run away with the bone. Linus Cat is King of the house.

I wonder if they make very small tiaras?

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Can I just say that I tuned in briefly to Playboy's 50th Anniversary bash last night, and it just about made me sick?

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My car's in the shop today and it'll be done about 4, so I have an enforced day off. Sewing projects are on the docket, and a bike ride if it isn't too hot. I am fighting mopey-ness regarding my new unsettling theory that Will hasn't called me because the Ice Queen is around, wanting to get back together with him. Just my little unsettling theory. I swear, if that happened I'd write the bugger off. After telling him what I really think about his wishy washy ways.

Truly, he's probably busy with visitors and so forth. It's only been a week and a half or so. Still. Honestly. If it turned out that he let her back in, I'd lose all respect for him. I'd... I'd whack him on the head with my tiara and say, Piss Off!

D'OH!