Virtual Hyperbole

My best college friend and I used to keep wish books. They weren't diaries; they weren't journals. They weren't even really goals, per se. It was a place where we wrote down everything from "I want to play [this particualr character] in [this particular play] ," to "I want a house with a swimming pool," to "I want to learn to fix my car," to "I want to kiss [so-and-so] on the mouth," to "I want to win the lottery." Some of our "I wants" were silly, fun and airy; some reflected the sweet intense passion of youth; some of them actually did turn into goals. We crossed them out once we'd achieved them, but that wasn't really the point. The point was brainstorming and dreaming without any kind of self-censorship. It was silly and giggly and yet somehow galvanizing. I talked to Lynnie recently, and she mentioned that she still had her book, and 12 years later (!), she was still adding to it. Oh my gosh, I thought...

There comes a time almost every afternoon around 3:30pm when I'm at work and the office almost always quiets down. Nobody's conversing on the phone or in person, all the office doors or shut, I and the other assistants are in our cubicles quietly typing and minding our own beeswax. It's very pleasant, and I feel like I get a lot done in the hour surrounding this quiet time. Then the weirdest thing happens, and it surprises me every time. The fan on the behemoth printer behind me shuts off. And every day, it's only then that I realize how loud the fan is. It wasn't at all quiet before, I'd been fooled. But *now* it's super-duper quiet. I love this moment, and I hope I continue to forget about it and be surprised anew daily. I actually have a tangible physical reaction to it - my shoulders relax, my face muscles relax, I unconsciously take a cleansing breath, my brain calms for a moment. It makes me wonder how much noise falls beneath my conscious radar every ...

A couple posts ago, I mentioned this road trip that Shoogie and I are taking. My readership is not large, I'm sure, but I believe that you are smart and mighty! Would you please care to share your pearls of wisdom? Any campgrounds or areas of interest or amazing roadside diners we shouldn't miss? Please tell me all about it/them/your experiences. Here is our very basic itinerary (subject to change upon any whim that Shoogs and I have at any moment): over to Glacier down to the Tetons over to the Badlands cut southwest across Utah, thru canyon territory north rim of Grand Canyon Las Vegas home It's basically a big circle(-ish thing) around the west. We plan on camping 90% of the time and trying to stay to the roads and lands less travelled. Advice? Bring it on; I'm not scared ...

Stop it, Skot. I'm serious. I wrote about my first Skot dream here . Which pleased me for days. But now it's getting weird. Skot wrote this a few days ago over at his url-pad, and (in addition to feeling cheated out of my memories because I saw that show, and now I can see that all they gave me was sloppy seconds *SOB* - aw, fuck, who am I kidding? sometimes it's the only road back to sanity) I have dreamed (dreamt?) twice now about Skot trying to assassinate me. * Once he was following me around work, and the other I was in the audience and he was on stage "acting." *Of course, I don't mean really assassinate me, like that recurring dream I used to have about Adam Sandler - seriously, that's not a joke. Another entry for another day. If you didn't read Skot's post I linked to, do it . It'll become clear. ** **It now just occurs to me that maybe Skot's following me in my dreams to only to wink at me, with no malicious intentions. I'm...

I'm really starting to lose it. I need to get out of here. Away from the city; away from my job; away from all these ... people . Blech. Why don't the people just stop talking to me?! Seriously ... zip it. You're annoying me. Okay, see what I mean? I am totally not usually like this. I am a kind and patient young(ish) gentlewoman. Sarcasm notwithstanding. The weird part is that my life is actually quite excellent right now. I'm just about to close a show that was challenging in all the best possible ways and quite successful and well-praised. I'm directing Shoogie in his solo piece that's going up in a festival next weekend - and it's going so freakin' well. My job's fine; I'm having fun; I adore my friends; biddy biddy boop boo nerdle derdle. But the people. The poor ignorant people * are constantly throwing their unintentional buzz-kipe into my determined path. I have a few theories regarding this. The people are not ignorant, and it is intent...