A Site of Beef by Ann-S-Thesia
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10/29/2000 - 11/04/2000
11/05/2000 - 11/11/2000
11/12/2000 - 11/18/2000
11/19/2000 - 11/25/2000
11/26/2000 - 12/02/2000
12/03/2000 - 12/09/2000
12/10/2000 - 12/16/2000
12/17/2000 - 12/23/2000
12/24/2000 - 12/30/2000
12/31/2000 - 01/06/2001
01/07/2001 - 01/13/2001
01/14/2001 - 01/20/2001
01/21/2001 - 01/27/2001
01/28/2001 - 02/03/2001
02/04/2001 - 02/10/2001
02/11/2001 - 02/17/2001
02/18/2001 - 02/24/2001
02/25/2001 - 03/03/2001
03/04/2001 - 03/10/2001
03/11/2001 - 03/17/2001
03/18/2001 - 03/24/2001
03/25/2001 - 03/31/2001
04/01/2001 - 04/07/2001
04/08/2001 - 04/14/2001
04/15/2001 - 04/21/2001
04/22/2001 - 04/28/2001
04/29/2001 - 05/05/2001
05/06/2001 - 05/12/2001
05/13/2001 - 05/19/2001
05/20/2001 - 05/26/2001
05/27/2001 - 06/02/2001
06/03/2001 - 06/09/2001
06/10/2001 - 06/16/2001
06/17/2001 - 06/23/2001
06/24/2001 - 06/30/2001
07/01/2001 - 07/07/2001
07/08/2001 - 07/14/2001
07/15/2001 - 07/21/2001
07/22/2001 - 07/28/2001
07/29/2001 - 08/04/2001
08/05/2001 - 08/11/2001
08/12/2001 - 08/18/2001
08/19/2001 - 08/25/2001
08/26/2001 - 09/01/2001
09/02/2001 - 09/08/2001
09/09/2001 - 09/15/2001
09/16/2001 - 09/22/2001
09/23/2001 - 09/29/2001
09/30/2001 - 10/06/2001
10/14/2001 - 10/20/2001
10/21/2001 - 10/27/2001
10/28/2001 - 11/03/2001
11/04/2001 - 11/10/2001
11/11/2001 - 11/17/2001
11/18/2001 - 11/24/2001
11/25/2001 - 12/01/2001
12/02/2001 - 12/08/2001
12/09/2001 - 12/15/2001
12/16/2001 - 12/22/2001
Saturday, March 24, 2001
Hey, this is cool...I feel so...."community." It's a listing of bloggers from not just Wisconsin, not just Madison, but the Isthmus! You know, the thin strip of skin between....uh, I mean the thin strip of land between Lakes Monona and Mendota. You know, the area code with the largest percentage of gay population anywhere, greenpeace bumper stickers and Nader yard signs? I see I'm listed and didn't even have to prove to him where I live. Is it that obvious? ;-)
Can't remember too much of my dream...really hazy...literally. I do remember looking outside and the sky's ceiling was sinking really low and it was starting to snow and getting really cold. I was going to go out with someone, maybe Stan, but I can't remember much else...I do remember it was involved, but I forgot the details.
OK, excuse me while I scream:
Actually, that didn't really feel better.
Damn, I wish some people would realize that they are not the center of the universe.
I wish some people would realize that I am not a supercomputer android who never sleeps or enjoys life, but merely a mortal who requires all the things that other human beings require...sleep...food...rest...play...downtime. I am not seated behind this computer 24 hours a day waiting to do nothing better than to respond to questions immediately and without fail.
I don't have a staff either. It's just me. That's all. Just me.
Hey guys, sometimes emails hit the black hole, you know? I've never received many emails people tell me they've sent, I've sent other people emails that they haven't received. This is not a foolproof medium. Craphappens. And it's no one's fault. And it doesn't mean I hate you (how can I hate you if you're a complete stranger? I don't even KNOW you...which makes it even weirder that you should assume so much, you know?) or I'm stuck up if I don't respond within YOUR required timeframe. Hey, check and see if I got your email, fine, no problem with that, but don't insinuate that I think you're not worthy of a response because I haven't responded within the time you'd like to see.
Friday, March 23, 2001
Sometimes I wonder if some people never leave their computer. Doesn't it seem like when you email some people you get a reply back almost immediately, all the time, regardless of when you email them, like they never sleep, shower, leave the house (oh, I forgot...PDAs...duh, how antiquated of me...shoulda known better), have sex, watch a movie, whatever that involves NOT ANSWERING EMAIL? I mean, isn't that kinda creepy?
Maybe I'm just a luddite or a Romantic (Romantic with a big 'R' as in the movement, not with a small 'r' as in someone who is in love with the idea of being in love) at heart. I know that if someone paid me a good sum of money that I could live on comfortably for the rest of my life and it would allow me to afford to make art traditionally (i.e., I wouldn't need my computers in order to either make a living or to afford to buy art supplies) but the stipulation was that I could never touch a computer again, I'd go for it. Maybe I'd drool over the various cute new Macintosh incarnations, just because they're so darn adorable to look at, but I'd just look. Not touch. That would be very easy for me. I don't think others could survive. I sure could and I would love it. I'd spend much more time outside (in the nice weather that is!)...maybe even volunteer at the Humane Society.
Now if someone offered me the same amount of money to never do visual art again...never....no kind of art...I couldn't accept. I'd rather struggle the way I do now than not be able to paint or make things again.
I think that's the difference between me and 99% of the other people out there who are into this internet thing. I could live without a computer and they couldn't, and they could live without creativity and I can't.
Even though my little bunny monkey was the only pet of ours at the vet today that didn't get a vaccination, he seems to be the most stressed out about it. All he got was some blood drawn for the heartworm test. What a spoiled baby. But I'm sure he's happy to hear that he and his mom are both "Blogs of Note" over at Blogger. Leave it to Plato to be the one competing for attention. Do you know how hard it's been to even snuggle with Stan ever since he came into our lives?
I love Langley...he's my favorite Lone Gunman. It's not just the long blond hair (I do have a thing for men with long blond hair, don't I?)....it's the 'tude as well. Byers is such a priss and Frohicke is such a hairy toad. Not that that's bad...I love the fact that a TV show can exist without casting so-called stud muffins as main characters. Their episodes have been quite funny...much better than the waning X-Files of late. I hope it can be maintained.
The vet visit was stressful. Next time, I only want to do two animals at the most at one time. Stan went to see his supervisor, Susan, at the hospital today. She was right at the main entrance as he came in...she was being dismissed. She broke bones in the pelvic region. As freak as the accident was, the real miracle was that at the time right before impact, she was bending over in the car to pick up a comb on the floor (she was stopped at an intersection when this happened). Had she been upright, the injuries might have been much, much worse. She was able to stand up and move from the wheelchair to the car so fortunately she won't be paralyzed. The car that hit her was a rental car, rented by a woman with a daughter, high school age I think, and her daughter loaned it to some doofus friends of hers who were the ones driving and caused the accident. And they're still at large. Can you imagine? I can't imagine letting my friends drive my dad's car...I knew I would have been killed and not through a car accident either.
Heh heh. Double "Ls" might do the trick too....Top Secret Recipes version of The Soup Nazi's Indian Mulligatawny Soup. OK, I'm hungry now.
BTW, they're BAAAACK...the water utility guys. Their little signs are back...their jackhammers will be back next week. Oh joy. Just when I thought I was through with that and about to breathe a sigh of relief.
Oooh! Ashbury's Aubergines Eggplant Recipes- Indian Mulligatawny Soup. Should've tried a "Y" instead of an "I."
Last week Stan and I went out to eat Thai food. We ordered the Thai coffee, which is a darkly roasted coffee over ice with sweetened, condensed milk. We then decided to make our own coffee that way, and purchased the appropriate milk. Since it was a bit chilly to drink iced coffee on a cold spring morning, he added the milk to regular hot coffee. I had just brushed my teeth with Tom's of Maine Peppermint Toothpaste before I drank the coffee. For some reason the combination of the toothpaste and the sweetened condensed milk made it taste like I drank a swig of Kaopectate. It wasn't horrible...just odd. And just a warning not to brush your teeth with a minty paste before drinking this sort of beverage.
Speaking of Asian food...the other day when Stan and Tim and I went to Kenosha, we ate at an Indian restaurant on Bluemound across from our favorite coffee shop rest stop (I forgot the name of the restaurant...we go there frequently but I can't remember the name...Taj Mahal's? duh...I'm oblivious sometimes). I was really wiped out...dead tired, and only had the energy to order the Mulagatawni soup and cheese Naan. The soup was soooo delicious. In fact, the following night I had to order Mulagatawni soup from Maharajah's here in Madison. It was good, but it wasn't quite as good as the one from Milwaukee...not quite as lemony-flavored. So I want to be able to make my own Mulagatawni, or at least have Stan The Cook make it, and since I didn't get a hand-me-down dresser with the prized recipe inside like Elaine did (Mulagatawni is the famous "Soup Nazi" soup from Seinfeld), I decided to run a Google search for "Mulagatawni Soup." One result. One. And that's just for an Indian restaurant somewhere in the UK. I can't believe it. One result for Mulagatawni Soup. Geez. No results for "Mulagatawni Soup Recipe." Is this stuff a guarded secret or what?
Last night I dreamt I was having lunch with some young woman about 20 years younger than myself. I forgot what we were talking about, but I told her that she reminded me of myself the way I was 20 years ago. (Not in the way she looked, but her interests or what she spoke of or something) I was drinking some drink that had a high animal fat content, and she apologized for not wanting to eat or drink because she was a vegan. I told her I tried to be a vegetarian but it didn't work out. Then I remember waiting for a bus in downtown somewhere. There were a bunch of young people at the bus stop, either high school or college-age (but they weren't college students, I could tell by the way they acted). I didn't know which bus to take to get home, but I figured it was either a #2 or a #3 bus (I don't know if those are the actual buses that run by our neighborhood here in Madison or not). Then the group of us crossed a street to wait on the other side of the bus stop, but then no bus would stop for us. Then I went back across the street to wait right under the bus sign, but I still couldn't get a bus to stop for me. I'd even try to flag them down, but no one stopped.
Thursday, March 22, 2001
When the movie "Pollack" comes to video, I've got to see it. Ebert said something in a review of it that Ed Harris (that is the actor who plays Jackson, isn't it?) does a great job of portraying how painting is a very physical act and takes a lot of strenuous work. No kidding! After not having painted for several months due to a series of events, I'm sure feeling it now as I start back up. Of course, if you sit at an easel or table with a tiny little sable brush and go "dit dit dit" (that's an Ann and Stan term soon to be included in our dictionary) with your timid strokes, then it's hardly an aerobic activity. But if you stand above your painting on the floor and you're a thrower and a dripper like Pollack, you bet it is. I'm more of a pourer and a dribbler and a squirter...heh heh. Sometimes I do throw and drip though...and often spill, not always on purpose.
Oh, and the bizarre nail polish I mentioned below? It is now more bizarre yet less discernable beneath layers of pthalocyanine blue, payne's grey and assorted glazes of various colors along the blue spectrum. Ever since they started adding acrylic to nail polish, acrylic paint just doesn't peel off like it used to. Pity.
Haven't had a silly Special Guest Star dream for a few days now...I guess I'm due for one, huh?
Tomorrow Stan and I get to take three animals (three--two dogs, one cat) to the vet for the annual shots, heartworm, checkups. Oh joy. Naturally, they're the most *difficult* animals to handle. For some reason neither dog is well behaved at the vets. Actually, they're very friendly and happy to see the people, but when it comes to looking at or touching their faces, that's another story. And Persephone, the cat we're taking tomorrow, is so difficult to manage because she squirms away when she's being examined. She doesn't bite or anything...just squirms...crawls up Stan's jacket and tries to escape up a sleeve. You couldn't imagine the strength in that little cat as she protests the drops they put up her nose. Both cats Caligula and Natasha, our youngest and oldest animals, respectively, are very well behaved.
Right now I'm wearing the weirdest nail polish ever created. As an artist I've used a lot of crazy interference colors in my paintings, but this is unlike any paint I've ever used or even produced myself. It's called "KhakiZING" and it's made by Revlon. When viewed head-on, it looks like a pinkish-dark bronze. When viewed at an angle to the light, it's intense golden green. I'm not sure how this is being produced, whether it's a red interference (titanium coated mica particles) that looks green held at an angle or what, or if the green is accentuated (it's pretty intense) by the mica particles being submersed in a greenish-glaze. It's weird. I also have a "MangoZING" but it was a tad disappointing. Reminded me of cajun food, like crawfish jumbalaya, once applied. Looks good in the bottle, though. KhakiZing seems to represent all colors in the spectrum. That's why it's so weird.
A little beef...it just drives me crazy how some people think it's weird for someone to not have a vehicle. I mean, where are these people coming from? I want to dismiss it as naive thoughts of a child or teenager, but when I was young I knew better, and it's not like I had a lot of experience living in different parts of the world (different parts of the country...yes)...I just knew better. What will these people who cannot live without their cars do when faced with a crisis, either a worldwide energy crisis or a crisis of their own, whatever form that would take? It drives me crazy. Stan and I sometimes refer to those naive sorts as "people who've never had anything bad happen to them." Someone really needs to burst their protective bubble.
Wednesday, March 21, 2001
The men with the jackhammers left after fixing something in the street. I'm beginning to wonder if this is something totally unrelated to the lead pipe removal. Maybe this is just something with the water utility, and does not involve us residents. Hmmm. Curious. I would think that if they were needing to do lead pipe removal, they would have contacted us about it, as I'm sure they'd need to access our house at times. Yet again, this is the city of Madison and I wouldn't put anything past them. This is the city where I had this happen the day Stan's mom from Colorado was due at the Dane County Airport in a few hours:
Late afternoon. Had to head over to the airport in an hour or two. Phone rang. I answered it. It was MG&E (Madison Gas and Electric) calling to say they need to come over to change our gas meter to update it since they had no record of it being updated in the past 15 years or so. Fine, and I ask them when they would like to make an appointment. They wanted to do it THAT day. Um...hello...uh...what world are we living in here? I mean, do people just hang out at home all day (well, I do, but that's where I work) with nothing to do and are more than thrilled when a public service utility says they need to come fix something that day? Has he ever heard of SETTING AN APPOINTMENT? I told him that we were busy and had to leave for the airport. All along while talking to this guy, I kept thinking of Elaine from Seinfeld's thickheaded boyfriend, Putty. He sounded just like Putty. Same stupid, DUH voice. It was just bizarre. He had a hard time dealing with having to set an appointment to come over at a more convenient time for us. He was a moron. Yes, these are the public utility people in town. The funny thing is that when the guy finally came to fix our gas meter later that summer, he really was like Putty. Totally. His mannerisms, his attitude..."Ya know you got something plugging up the furnace flue..." as he stared vacantly at our chimney. It was like Putty standing there, big, thick, arrogant, stupid Putty.
Well, it'll be good if the thing today was just something they needed to fix in the street. It'll give us some time to save up and go more in debt before they decide to remove the lead pipes outside our house. :-/
Some sad news...One of Stan's supervisors, Susan, was critically injured in a freak accident on Monday. Some car driven by assholes went over the median on the Beltline (big nasty highway south of town...I hate it), car became airborn and hit her car. The assholes fled the scene on foot. Probably wasn't even their car...they're probably fugitives or used it for a drug deal. Meanwhile, Susan may never walk again. This is just so sad.
Bill called me to say that he received the printed Biota CDs, the CDs that I designed the surface of. He went without a white undercoat, so the printing is right over the metallic surface. He likes the result, says it looks like my paintings, like a weird patina on metal. The printers kept telling him, "You know, we can't do this over if you don't like it" due to our non-traditional approach to CD surface printing. People who aren't artists themselves just don't understand the artist's experimental mindset. It reminds me of when Stan and I got our sink for the 1st floor bathroom. The bathrooms in this house were junky when we bought the place and we replaced *everything* in them except the medicine cabinets, the tubs (nice old original clawfoot upstairs) and the first floor toilet. Everything else, floors (we went through two periods of literally "floorless" bathrooms...good thing we had two bathrooms!), ceilings, sinks, plumbing, faucets, shower fixtures, paint on the wall...all got redone and replaced. We found a very inexpensive but nice new shell-shaped pedastal sink for the upstairs which unfortunately met an untimely demise about five years ago when Stan accidentally poured Louis Red Devil drain cleaner down it (D'OH!!!!). But because we had initially spent so little on the upstairs sink, we decided to splurge on the downstairs sink. I've always wanted a bathroom with black marble fixtures, but since black marble is just a LITTLE BIT out of our reach (yeah, just a little), we decided to order a black porcelain sink instead. And when we were ordering our sink, we saw that there were sinks on display with iridescent glazes over them. We asked about the glazes, and asked if we could get it put on our black sink. The people taking our order just stared at us strangely, like it was beyond their comprehension why someone would put an iridescent glaze over black. They obviously weren't artists. All they knew is the stock and examples that came into their showcase, which happened to be white sinks or pastel sinks with iridescent glazes. "Well, you know, if this doesn't turn out, you'll have to pay for it anyway." Well, duh! The thing is, we were artists. We put nacreous colors over black paint all the time. We knew it would turn out. And it did. It was beautiful. The only problem is, the first one they made (and literally, it was the first sink they made like that EVER...yes, just call us trendsetters), was broken. As Stan picked up the package to lift into the car, he heard a rattle. He opened it up. Broken sink. Beautiful, black iridescent glazed broken sink. Well, they made us another one. Maybe it would be hubris to actually USE something that was the first of its kind...maybe there was a cosmic reason it was broken. Fortunately, it was obviously broken at the factory, so we didn't have to pay for the second one. I think we still have a fragment of the original somewhere...just a little memento.
Crap. They're here. Jackhammering away outside to destroy everything all for the sake of removing lead pipes. I hate the city. Everything is vibrating...I can't concentrate. I want to throw glass bottles at them. I hate noise. Damn, our pets are going to freak out.
What the hell am I going to do all day with everything shaking and all this noise? I have loads of stuff I need to get done, but I can't with this crap. It needs concentration and attention to detail.
I HATE THE CITY AND ALL THEIR PC REGULATIONS!
Tuesday, March 20, 2001
Some people fear going to sleep because they are afraid they will die before they wake. Some people fear going to sleep because they have a guilty conscience. Some people fear going to sleep because they fear what nightmares will come. I'm sort of in that last category, although I do not dream of falling off buildings. I haven't dreamt of planes falling out of the sky for a long time, nor do I dream of horrorshow monsters. The worst situations in my dreams which caused me to yell out in my sleep have been caused by an obnoxious woman walking in on me when I'm using a bathroom stall, and a spoiled little adolescent boy who looked at me cross-wise. Hardly nightmares. No, my fear is not what evil night terror will haunt me, but
WHAT CHEESEY AMERIKAN LAS VEGAS LOUNGE ACT HAS-BEEN SCHLOCK CELEBRITIES THE MUSES OF MY SUBCONSCIOUS WILL DIG UP FOR ME AS SPECIAL GUEST STARS.
Perhaps it was the duck last night. It was very delicious...Stan fixed it with an orange sauce. There was a lot of it, and duck does tend to be a fatty meat. I woke up last night and I felt like throwing up. Fortunately, I didn't, but I felt terrible, just terrible, and lost quite a bit of sleep. I think the amount of fat in the duck does not sit well in my stomach. And the nausea it caused did not sit well in my dreamstate, because after I finally fell asleep, I dreamt.
Ladies and Gentlemen, may I present to you possibly the most absurd Special Guest Stars in Ann's dream to date, outdoing even Kirstie Alley:
I mean what the? I NEVER liked KISS. Not as a teen, not as an adult. Never liked them. Even when I was 15 or 16 I'd make fun of them as being middle-aged businessmen trying to make a buck off of rock and roll.
But anyway, here goes the dream:
Some friends and I were at a KISS concert (do you know how HARD it is to say that?) except it didn't have a concert quality about it. I don't remember any concert, I just remember a large auditorium-like room with a bunch of tables and folding chairs. The members of the band (and there were about six members, not four as I recall there actually are) were sitting at one of the tables, and there were some people clustered around them, but it wasn't that crowded. It reminded me more of some sort of neighborhood council meeting where people get up and talk to the council members after the meeting is adjourned. It was very non-rock and roll. My friends were all going to get autographs, and they told me that we should all meet back at the car. It was raining outside, and I didn't bring an umbrella and didn't want to wait outside. I asked them why couldn't we meet back here, and they told me it'd be too crowded and we'd never find eachother. I thought it odd. It wasn't crowded in my opinion. So, to be like them, I got in line to get autographs too, even though I didn't want to. So when it was my turn I asked them if I could draw their pictures and then they could sign their faces. They agreed, and I start cartoonily sketching them. While I am doing this, they are not signing any autographs, so I tell them to just ignore me and to go ahead and sign autographs for others. Then when I'm nearly through I find myself running out of room on the paper for the sixth member. Then, when it comes time for them to sign my drawings, the drawings have mutated into teabags and spice packets (like those spice packets you get in packages of authentic Asian brands of Ramen noodles...not like the kind you get with American-made Ramen noodles...except they were wrapped in teabag material, not cellophane), each face being a separate teabag or spice packet. Any semblance of faces I'd drawn were blurred out due to the shifting of leaves and spices within the packets.
Monday, March 19, 2001
Good news. I found the painting. Yesterday when I went to the "Women Only" opening at the Anderson Art Center in Kenosha, I asked Candace, the director, about it. She didn't have it and was pretty sure I picked it up. It made me a bit depressed for the rest of the opening, not to mention a bit shaky, and I ended up spilling part of my wine and dropping a delicious chocolate and raspberry square (my favorite flavor combo) on the floor. I felt so bad about that...embarrassed too. But today Stan was cleaning out the back room and found the painting packed waaaaaay behind a bunch of older paintings. We do have to shuffle stuff around a lot to make room for more (I'm too prolific for my own good), and it probably just got reorganized and placed in a spot where we didn't think it would be. I am so incredibly relieved. I thought it would be hard for me to actually "lose" a painting, but you never know.
You know, today must be a day of weird synchronicity or whatever. At the same time I was feeding the newts their weekly dose of maggots and newt pellets, someone was searching for this and found my site: cute animated maggot. Eyeblog's number one, to boot.
In the middle of a big project, but just had to take time out to blog about this very strange thing that just now happened to me.
You know in Twin Peaks when Agent Cooper throws stones at empty bottles because he believes when he hits or breaks a bottle after someone's name is called, there's an association between him hitting the mark and that person having had a part in the Laura Palmer murder. That was supposedly based on some sort of mystical hand-mind coordination of Tibetan Buddhists. Well, this is nothing as interesting as trying to solve a murder, but I just experienced a very strange hand-mind coordination thing.
The project I'm working on is for a customer of mine who wants me to redesign his site in the style of my current Ann-S-Thesia design. Usually I don't like to design based on my own design, but at the same time, I already have the template, I really need the money because the business has been bad, and what the heck...it's great publicity, plus I'll probably redesign my site anyway, even though I really like the current design too. In fact, I like it so much, I think that's why I decided to do this for him, the design itself is fun to work with. His site is music-related. And although I love music as a listener and fan, I am hardly a musician. I cannot read music. So even though I can think of a great idea like having the little text border area being surrounded on the top and bottom by a line or bar of music with a staff and notes...that sort of stuff...(that's how pathetic I am...I don't even know the LANGUAGE to describe this) instead of the jewels on threads like on my own, I don't know how to actually create it. How do I design this? I guess I put a treble clef down, but then what? I do a little search on the net, can't find much. Then I think that I'll look at the dictionary downstairs that's 4 inches thick. I pull it out of the wicker shelf and lay it down, open it up, and, voila...there on the page I open up is a little line of illustrated music...treble clef, notes,...bars...stuff...right under the word "syncopation."
Now I could've opened up any page. I could have opened up to a picture of a fedora or a lemur. But no. I got a picture of music. Wow. Now that is WEIRD.
Today's Special Guest Stars in Ann's Dream are: The Cast of The Dick Van Dyke Show and Sonic Youth (who actually don't appear)
I was watching TV and there was this show on that was supposed to be starring Sonic Youth in their own tv special (heh...that's really funny). The intro to the show starts out showing a bicycle with a leopard spot seat in a messy (in a good way), well-lived in rec room or family room. There's a small tv in the room, and the camera zooms in to the tv, which is airing the old Dick Van Dyke Show. Eventually, the dream loses any semblence (as if there was one) of Sonic Youth and it's actually the Dick Van Dyke Show that I'm watching, or maybe even "in", but it's a really bizarre episode. The bicycle's wheel at the beginning of the
Sunday, March 18, 2001
Just about the weirdest search request of all time...I think the aliens have finally landed:
Guess who the Special Guest Star in today's dream is? Kirstie Alley. Now this is getting really bizarre when I start having people like Kirstie Alley and Alanis Morissette in my dreams. I never even watched "Cheers" and I don't even like Alanis Morrisette's music. (That IS the show Alley was in, isn't it? I mean, that's how little I know about Hollywood and recent tv, so why, why, why, when I could be dreaming about people like a young Brian Eno (circa 1972...yum), just for example, the muses of dreamland decide to sprinkle my dreams with silly celebrities I don't even care about? I mean the Billy Corgan thing was OK because I do have a few Smashing Pumpkins CDs, but Kirstie Alley? We are hitting the bottom of the barrel, aren't we?
I must ask, you muses:
Is this some kind of a sick joke? Is this your idea of irony, because although it's funny in a bizarre and ironic way, it's also very pointless, and I am not a-muse-d anymore.
Anyway, this dream is a bit hard to recall because it seemed to go around in circles and I can't remember the sequence too well. I do remember I was by a by a beach. The sun was high in the sky, but it was a western facing beach so I knew the sun would set over the water. It was a lot like the beach I dreamt about in my dream a couple weeks ago (the same dream with Billy Corgan's head)...sunny, isolated...a lot like some of the beaches we stopped at along northern Lake Michigan on our mini-trip last fall. Except this one the water was very warm, and for some reason I keep thinking it was salt water too...like an ocean. Then the dream took a different direction and I was at Tim's parent's house, except instead of it being a 160-year old farm house, it was just a boring ranch-style modern sprawling thing with a sliding screen door. I remember Tim's mom played a predominant role in the dream, but I really can't remember specifics...I think we were eating food...I remember using a bathroom that was all pink...it was more like a styling salon or something because there was pictures of people modelling different hairstyles and hair colorations. This is where Kirstie Alley comes in. She was in a picture on the wall with some other women and she had this hairstyle that was bizarre, but the coloration of her hair was rather fascinating...like a very pale, pale red, almost pink, sort of coppery, but pale. But it wasn't a solid color, there was other bits of color in there, like red (red as in red-hair color) and gold and blonde. The name of the haircoloring was called "Parfait." I remember thinking I wanted to find the dye that colored her hair like that. Then I was using one of those rubber hose shower attachments on myself while I was taking a shower in the bathroom, but I was still sitting on the toilet. It was very strange. Then I also recall Stan cut his hair and he had less of a receding forehead than he has now, and it was blonder, making him look more like he did back in the 80s, or a young Brad Pitt or the late Kurt Cobain. Yum. Then this part is weird: I was in this strange cocoonal-contraption sort of like a sleeping bag that had a bag for each leg, that looked like it was made out of the material they made those white stormtrooper costumes out of in Star Wars. I was loaded into the back of a van with some people I knew early in college. The back of the van door didn't close, and I was lying down, and I was hoping I wouldn't fall out. We were driving around the university/downtown area of Madison. Then I was taken home (forgot where "home" was...was it my house or my parent's house?). I asked the people I was with if they wanted to do something else that night, and they refused, like they had made plans with eachother and I wasn't invited.
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