Simply Today

Archive for the ‘Yes, I’m odd, your point?’ Category

So I’ve been a bit soggy as of late. And as you might imagine, sogginess makes one heavier, lazier, and tireder. This is my excuse for not blogging for the last three months. That and the fact that even though I was soggy, I had to do a lot of running around/ work, which is difficult to do. I will post about these last three months soon though. Now, for the crazy amount of dreams I’ve remembered in the last week:

Last week

1. I have these recurring wedding dreams where I get to my wedding day, can’t remember the grooms name (don’t know him very well), and in the end call the whole thing off on account of me coming to my senses. Feel free to analyze the hell out of it, I have:) But last week, was a first in this dream sequence. Yes, I went through with it. Through a series of events I got married to a guy I met the day of the wedding because the original guy I was going to marry, had second thoughts since there was another girl in the picture. I wasn’t even in love with the first guy. Geesh!

2. One of my co-workers shows up at a house that I used to live in, late at night. Just stopping by to chat, after a trip he went on. He seems uneasy. Then he leaves, and there is another knock at the back door. I am the only one who is awake. It’s my dept. chair, and she’s in tears. She apologizes, but she has to let my mom go, and would I please let my mom know. And then I let her have it. I just totally erupt. ‘She’s one of the best employees you’ve got, she’s loyal, over qualified, yada, yada,’ GRR, flapping of hands, reddening of face…And then I have to go wake up my parents and tell them, and man. You don’t need to tell me that’s messed up, I know.

3. I live in this weird modern designed mansion in the woods surrounded by shacks with a much older guy I met in the city. I’m a trophy something, I don’t think wife…bunny?

It was a stressful week, okay?

This week

1. I adopt a chimp named Hannah rather impulsively. I take her everywhere with me. It’s fun, until it’s not. She a lot of responsibility, which when I bring her over to my parents, they reiterate, A LOT. At one point I leave her in the car, an accident, and feel really guilty afterwards.

Enough for now. Can’t recall any others. Hopefully your brains aren’t about to explode.

Thunk. ZZZZzzzz.

In this instance I am referring to games and a certain new obsession of mine that I will hopefully be playing with my youngest sis this weekend. I won’t hold you in suspense, I am referring, fine people, to Settlers, duh, duh, DUH, the card game. Now I realize there are those out there who may be Settlers purists (ix-nay Cities and Knights, Seafarers, or the card game), but I will tell you, in one week I’ve played it four times. Though I will warn you that the first time I played, it took around an hour to figure everything out (and we still were discovering more rules, two games later).  I like that there’s more narrative in this version of Catan (which I understand might be the very reason someone likes this less…), and like all their games, the pieces are well crafted, and the illustrations are beautiful.

Hm. Well, then. I’m not even 10 posts in and I’m writing reviews. Eh, whatev’. Even if you can’t track one of these down in the next day or two, I think game playing will highly improve your weekend.  And with that, I say, “Roll them dice!”

So I arrived first, at the bar last night. And even though it had been my idea to come (live Irish music is bound to be good for the soul, when you’re in a never ending January), I wanted to turn right around and walk out. I’d been to this bar enough times to know where the live music would be, and wouldn’t you know, I could have croud surfed on the happy hour mass of people. I made my way to the bar (this actually took about five minutes, because part of me wanted to be able to see the door at all times (when will they come, when will they come?), and part of me hadn’t really perfected my order a drink dance. See, you need to be close enough to the bar to engage the barkeep, and this often means (I’m mostly supposing) that there’s some squeezing dance moves that have to happen. Do not make eye contact.

So I did my dance between two guys and grabbed the counter before I went under. There was chaos all around me, some people were socially flailing about in the sea of happy hour flirting, and I had something to keep me afloat. I yelled out, “Screwdriver.” He went to making it, set the vodka by the kitchen so someone could toss some OJ in it, then at last my drink was in my small hands. [Wait, Jack, don’t leave!] Then he was on to pouring beer from the tap. I realized then I was coming upon a faux pas. It was like Rose saying that if she could have the door to float on, that later Jack would get a good shag. There would be no later!

I was deciding to get only one drink. $5. And I only had a credit card. “Do you want an open tab?” The barkeep asked as he worked two different drinks at once. Plus my friends had just walked in. Ah, the lifeboat!

“Closed, please.”

“Then you’ll have to wait, I’m kind of busy[dying].”

I could see his lips and hands were starting to turn blue.

“Yeah, I understand.”

Well, by the time he spotted that I had a credit card in my hand, he just said, “Don’t worry about it.” [At this point I’m not expecting a shag, as much as I deserve it. Just take the board, hop on the rowboat and leave me].

“Are you sure. Sorry.”

At the end of the evening I took the bill he had made me before he saw I didn’t have cash, up to the bar with a borrowed 5 dollars (I know, I didn’t even have enough for tipping!), and then I was on my way.

And that is all I have for you. Clink.

Flickr Photos