The Black Dahlia Brightens My Day

I woke up feeling a sense of panic this morning. Surely, it had to be almost 8 a.m.  That seems to be the only time I have dreams bordering on the hysterical yet macabre.  Having just broken free from the depths of my latest escapade within my brain-It regarded The Black Dahlia case being cracked wide open as I had just received a package that was not a product review but in fact a dead bird and part of a severed torso.  I had the key to solving this decades old mystery in a plastic wrapped USPS box.  Goody! Oh, and did I mention that when I called the cops to tell them what I had just received in the mail they sent over some of their finest. Also seen last season on the now defunct television show, 'The Unusuals'? 

I digress. It was just 6 a.m. and the girls were both up. 

I ran through a mental list of "to do's" for the day and realized I forgot a review yesterday and that I still had a list a mile long of items that needed to be done.  I sighed and looked for a better outlook to my day beyond a cup of coffee.  I tried to still the drumbeat in my mind that has begun these last few weeks that incessantly chants, "One day done, one day closer..." and the bitter thoughts that I don't want to be told to "hang in there" anymore. 

Then I had a thought (I sound so very Carrie Bradshaw today) - if I can solve the case of The Black Dahlia, then I can overcome whatever cranky feelings I have this morning and not let it pervade my day.  It's ridiculous logic at its best but it worked.  The sun is shining, we are all healthy, we have a good roof over our heads and lots of support.  The inside my head space that just wants to sleep until labor will just have to get over itself today. 

Harry Potter Thinks I Need to Clean My Tub

They say that with pregnancy comes cravings, the frequent need to pee and a host of other fun things that we have either forgotten about or never experienced. Do they ever mention the bizarre host of dreams though?

Since becoming 'with child' as H calls it I've -

Walked in on Harry Potter making acne medication/potions in my guest bathroom only to then hear him complain about the dirty state of my bathtub. My father then entered the room and said, "Eehh, it's not so bad. I've used it plenty. Relax, Harry!" Hmmph. Good enough for me and I told 'ol Potter there that if he didn't like the tub then he could just 'magic' it clean himself and left.

Had Michael Caine over for dinner. He wore a blue blazer, white shirt and a gold ascot. We had loads of fun and it was a fine evening had by all. I didn't even look at his teeth once!

Had numerous dreams about T.D. being kidnapped by anyone from some religeous sect (too much news watching that day) to little old ladies who look sweet but pack heat.

Most recently, there was the shark movie I was in. Uh, yeah. It was all Tron looking and at one point one of the actors, might have been Michael Caine, had his whole sharky face fall off and we just kept filming. I think that film might be up for an '08 Razzie award shortly.

Other than the T.D. nappin' nightmares there seems to be some sort of movie theme going on here. Maybe, I have been really needing a taste of Hollywood after all and it was a good thing E visited.

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Ryan Gosling Hates Trans Fats

Another night and another dream with a celeb sharing advice with me. What gives? Is it the fresh New England air making me hallucinate enough to see Ryan Gosling berating passerbys?

Or Dick Cheney playing slots at Mohegan Sun? Yes, folks. He's not in an underground bunker. He's playing slots and keno at Mohegan Sun. Run for your lives.

Don Imus was watching street performers on the roof too right before the fireworks last night. It's a crazy world I tell you when you are living it New England style.

So my dream. A young Ryan (think 'Remember the Titans Ryan) is standing on the side of a country road with a bunch of friends. They are yelling eco-world information at passing cars while hurling used plastic water bottles at them. I come upon this whole mess of a scene and say, "Boys! What are you doing?" Oh yeah, did I forget to mention that I'm about 55 in the dream? Ryan lights into me about "this whole stinkin' state is into clogging their arteries and it's no wonder that other countries hate us, because we are a bunch of slow, fatties. We're sweat pant lovin' no style havin', trans fat eatin', egotistical monsters". Wow. He's really upset about it the whole state of the well, state. He started crying about trans fats. It was a tough sight to behold I tell you. I told him that I hate trans fats too and he hugged me and cried some more.

I'm thinking that the migraine I had last night is the culprit. It's certainly not the three trans fat free oreos I consumed (yes, I caved and I loved it!) hours before.