The Saturday Six

1. Did you dream last night?
Yes I did. Something about a classroom, where everyone had dark curly hair and I didn't understand why.

2. What's the most vivid dream you ever had?
Red pickup truck, parked by a marshy lake or pond. Tall grasses blowing in breeze. It's sunny and very hot. Michael Stipe in truck, naked, with me, also naked.

3. What dream do you wish would come true?
See above. Other than that, the one where I'm in France tending my herb garden. In this dream I have a small child, but I don't mind.

4. Do you dream every night?
Yes, I'm certain that I do. The Hubby says I talk during my sleep, so something must be going on.

5. Do you always remember your dreams?
Not always. Mostly I remember fragments and bits and pieces that pop up in my memory throughout the day.

6. When was the last time you had a nightmare?
Two months ago - but I don't remember what it was. Apparently I was thrashing around making a mess of the bedding. I woke up so frightened that I sat straight up in bed, and found The Hubby staring at me (obviously I'd woken him some time earlier). Finding someone else awake and staring at me in the middle of the night was scarier than the nightmare!

Seen and Heard This Week

Sign in Little India: "Come Before You Buy". Tempting. Maybe we could hire that store owner to be Nipple Pants Rubber Rub's director of advertising.

The Hubby on phone with headhunter, Wednesday: "Are you kidding? I'm a wealth of information!"

Near shores of Lake Ontario, earlier this afternoon: A whole bbq chicken and a wine glass, sitting in the sand behind tree.

In downtown ladies' room, yesterday: Hand-written zeroxed sign "Due to SARS, please wash your hands this time."

In friend's kitchen, forty minutes ago: Her ex-husband, eating her food and doing his laundry. Hmph.

The Friday Five
1. What was the last TV show you watched?
I nodded off during Will & Grace last night.

2. What was the last thing you complained about and what was the problem?
Einstein fell in the toilet - which was a riot until she crawled into bed with us moments later, wet and cold and needy. I complained about that.

3. Who was the last person you complimented and what did you say?
My doctor's receptionist looked chic and together, instead of trashy and slutty. I didn't say it exactly like that though.

4. What was the last thing you threw away?
Aside from every day kitchen scraps.... I tossed a falling-apart pair of cooking shoes. Why "cooking shoes"? Because they are foamy wedgie flip flops that are very comfy for standing for long periods of time. Can't walk in them, but I can cook in them.

5. What was the last website (besides this one or other blogs) that you visited?
The Weather Network. It's getting better every day.

My Fellow Prostitutes
With one lone exception, everyone I know and love is looking for a job, whoring ourselves around the GTA in search of a better work/life balance. Or bank balance. Being perky, being "on" at the whim of some pallid HR operative who decided you make the grade. Researching, rehearsing, reassuring ourselves ten times over that we can pull this off. Making deals with God - "Just get me this job and I'll stop hating children". "Please get me a second interview and I'll do a better job of recycling."

Aluminum Sister (are you still out there?) is searching for a post-partum career. Sister StaceyPatrick is trying to avoid her own careerus interruptus. The Hubby is impressing the pants off recruiters everywhere. Chip seems to be trying to relocate as well - in case the pressure of job hunting isn't enough. And miracle of miracles, I have three interviews this week. I don't think that's ever happened. I feel wanted, needed, even ssssssexy.

So there it is. In answer to the inevitable "Why do you want to work for our company, Crabby?"

"Because you make me feel ssssssexy". Think it'll work?

Ice Advisory
Eight days and counting to Icy's dental surgery. To help amuse her during her week of misery at home, I am assembling a care package in my dining room . This isn't a surprise - I mentioned it to her last night after stewpid Margaret Nerdwood stood me up. That lazy, horrible bitch. Nerdwood, not Icy.

If you have any Archie comics, ketchup packages, lesbian porn, laundry to fold, or knit-me-an-afgan kits, send 'em my way. Seriously, e-mail me if you have something fun for Ice Queen. C'mon. She'd do it for you.

The Friday Five
(a fun thing to do on Fridays - 'cept last Friday when I was e-less @the cottage)

1. Who is your favorite celebrity?
SpongeBob SquarePants. Just say it out loud once, and you'll love him too. Check him out on Nickelodeon.

2. Who is your least favorite?
From what I've been told, Margaret Atwood will soon be.

3. Have you ever met or seen any celebrities in real life?
Keifer Sutherland was in front of me at Harveys two years ago; Barbara Mandrell on the sidewalk downtown, but I had to be told about it. And I met the Globe & Mail's Jan Wong once. And there was that ellicit weekend with a Lightfoot...

4. Would you want to be famous? Why or why not?
No way José. I want to be alone.

5. If you had to trade places with a celebrity for a day, who would you choose and why?
Well, if only for a day.... SpongeBob SquarePants.

The Cottage Rules
Oh yeah, the cottage RULES baby, but the cottage also has rules. Just as the Ice Queen learns and creates rules for living happily with a toddler, I have learned how to best enjoy time spent in (sing with me now) Deseronto:

Do not wear Jones New York white sweater while cleaning muck from fireplace.

No matter how many cigars, bottles of wine, or olives you bring, it will not be enough (sure, that's more of an advisory - not a rule).

Always make a fool of yourself in the local LCBO, perhaps by overly appreciating wine with funny labels, like Fat Bastard or Mad Fish Arghhhh.

Don't park under the tree if you want to see out of your car window.

Don't eat in town. Just drive through quickly with the windows up and doors locked.