A Season For Sneezes

Spring is when you feel like whistling even with a shoe full of slush.
-Doug Larson

I agree, except that there hasn't been much slush lately. Spring is nice, though, in spite of the allergies and the fact that it heralds the season of unbearable heat.

These Dreams

Lately, I've had some very bizarre dreams that I feel deserve to be written down in some form. First of all, the other night, I dreamt that I was in a Mexican restaurant with my roommate, Alan. We ordered flautas, which is one of my favorite Mexican foods. As I ate the flauta, I noticed that it tasted odd, which prompted me to go to the kitchen to find out what was the problem. It turned out that they had run out of regular flauta meat and were roasting robins, (yes, the birds) and then deep frying them in a tortilla. I was understandably upset, but somehow, the cooks convinced me that it was right and proper to eat roasted robins deep fried in a tortilla. Even Alan seemed to be enjoying them thoroughly. At this point, I left the restaurant and went outside where I ran into Barack Obama. At this point it gets hazy, but somehow, Obama and I travelled back in time to the 1950's in order to rob a bank. This was not done for any evil reasons, rather, somehow robbing this bank was the only way to save a man's life. It was wacky.

And last night's dream was not any better. It seems I was the American-born son of a South American diplomat and was kidnapped along with my little sister and taken to Mexico where we had to escape and struggle against many odds to make it back home. Also, this dream was entirely in Spanish. Fun, no?

For The Record

I don't hate James Taylor. I never said that I did. In fact, I find his mellow blend of folk-rock very pleasant. I simply was saying that when Tiddlefitz plays James Taylor, it is such a contrast to the awful music he usually plays that I forget to get mad at him. He's failing, though, I'm managed to cultivate to a steady grumpiness regarding him that should protect me from future James Taylor episodes.

Sinister!

I fell asleep on the couch earlier and woke up later to find James Taylor songs running through my head. I don't know why this is so, but I suspect foul play. While I was napping, none of my roommates came home. They were all out either hot tubbing or broadcasting the news. As for me, I hadn't thought of James Taylor at all in a good long while, so I don't think my subconscious is to blame. So what I believe to be true is that a mysterious neighbor, who we call "Tiddlefitz" is trying to win in a deadly game of annoying music. Usually, he plays really loud techno music at all hours, prompting me to become very upset. But I've been gradually learning to block out the bad techno. But I think he's upped the ante and started playing James Taylor songs while I'm asleep to throw me off. So that when the techno comes back, I'll unprepared for it and he will destroy me. But I see through your little game, Tiddlefitz. You won't take me down easily!

This Is Not Me

This is a picture of a sleeping cat. I put this here because the cat is in a state that I would very much like to be in. That state being sleep. Alas, I am not asleep, nor will I get to sleep for many, many hours. Also, unlike the cat, I am not fuzzy.

The Not So New Roommate

So, I've had time now to really get to know my new roommate. Alas, many of the things that I thought about him have turned out to be wrong. He is, in fact, funny. I retract that I ever said that he wasn't. He also doesn't listen to Journey. He's more of a Foreigner type. He was born in a pumpkin patch though.

The Frozen

Most people who know will eventually see that I don't do well in hot weather. In fact, once it gets over 80 degrees, I start complaining and sweating. And then complaining about the sweating. Why am I talking about this in January, you ask? Good question. Normally, I like cold weather. Cold? Fine Snow? Better. Ice? Well... normally I don't have a problem with ice. I respect the ice, and the ice seems to respect me. (It doesn't make me slip on it like some people) But now, something sinister is happening. I've started slipping on ice much more. Yesterday, walking home, I must have slipped and almost fallen about a dozen times. This is not good. Have I lost my powers of cold weather mastery? Or is it just the ice? Is the ice betraying me? After all we've shared? The forecast does not look good, friends. No, it does not.