The Dream

It's surprising that I haven't written more about my dreams considering (as most of you know) they are always vivid and very bizarre. Here's one I had the other night that has really stuck with me. I know you'll appreciate a peak into my psyche.

So, it started with me registering for some kind of triathlon or race or something. I walked up to the registration table and, after giving my name to the guy checking me in, he handed me one of those little machines that calculates your body fat percentage. For those of you who are unfamiliar with it, it looks like this:

We then proceeded to have the following conversation:

Guy: Take this and hold it straight out in front of you.
Me: Why are you measuring my body fat?
Guy: We have limits for this race.
Me: Are you serious? You mean I can't race if my body fat is too high?
Guy: Yeah. (he then takes the thing away from me) Ok, you have 80% body fat.
Me: WHAT?!?!?! NO I DON'T! (he hands me the machine and sure enough it says 80%) That's impossible! I would have to weigh like 800 pounds! Plus, you didn't input my height, weight or age into that thing. It's not accurate.
Guy: Ok fine. How old are you?
Me: 27 (either lying or just stuck in time)
Guy: Ok. (he inputs my age and hands the thing back to me to measure it again) Ok, you actually have 40% body fat.
Me: WHAT?!?!?!?! NO I DON'T! YOU'RE THING IS TOTALLY NOT ACCURATE. WHAT IS WRONG WITH IT?
Guy: Nothing. It's working just fine.
Me: NO IT'S NOT! THERE'S NO WAY I HAVE 40% BODY FAT!! I WOULD HAVE TO BE LIKE 300 POUNDS! YOU'RE NOT DOING IT RIGHT!!
Guy: Yes I am.
Me: NO YOU'RE NOT! I KNOW FOR A FACT I'M UNDER 30%. IT SHOULD SAY 20 SOMETHING. WHY ARE YOU MEASURING THIS ANYWAY?!?!?!

Then the guy gave me this look that I swear would drive you into a frenzy. It sure did me! It was like he thought I was a total lunatic and in denial of my 80% or 40% body fat. So, I grabbed him by the shoulders and started either shaking or hitting him, I'm not sure. It was kind of a blind rage and I don't really remember seeing anything else. But I do remember wanting to rip off his smug little face.

And that was about it. End of dream. It didn't last long enough for me to find out if I competed or not. I would like to think I was under the limit, but there's a pretty good chance I was disqualified for attacking the guy.

Today's Love/Hate List

HATE:
1. Scabs - They are ugly. There must be a prettier way to heal.

2. My elbows - I have tennis elbows or something, even though I don't play tennis. They're killing me. Plus, one has a scab on it.

3. The gym - It was a super crowded Monday today.

4. Guys who mill around waiting for me to finish using a machine at the gym - Unless you are standing there admiring how gorgeous I am when I'm red and sweaty, please give me at least 5 feet of breathing room. Ok dudes?

5. My dirty car - I need to stop parking under that sticky maple tree at work. Maybe I can get Dad to wash it.

LOVE:
1. $4.25 gas - I never thought I'd say it. It's awesome paying less than $50 to fill up!

2. Compliments - My manager told me the feature I wrote about the house in Capitola (see previous posting) was the best I've ever written. And I think she was serious. I wish I could post some of the stuff I write on here, but I feel kind of weird about it. Plus, a lot of the stuff I write is ghost written for other people. So, it would be weird posting something and then it runs in the Examiner or Chronicle under someone else's name.

3. Blog comments - How cool is it that someone in New Zealand read my blog, let alone commented on it?!?! Thanks Cafe Chick!

4. Nob Hill - Normally I hate grocery stores, but the one by my gym is so open and pretty that I'm considering moving in. It should be no surprise though...it IS in San Ramon.

5. Emails from friends - I re-read an email a friend had sent me about my twitch posting. I always love her emails. She writes almost in free form, as if she doesn't realize she's writing an email and just tells her stories like she would in person. And she always includes little details in her stories in a vivid way. Love it!

Another House Tour

I'm just now getting around to uploading some photos from another house I toured last week. This one was in Capitola and is listed for almost $4 million. I think I actually liked it better than the first one. You be the judge.

An Ode to the Equine of Charles

Oh Charles!

Why do you hate me so?

You ripped me from my peaceful sleep last night,

And brought along your horrible Equine of Death with you.

I jolted out of bed screaming as you stabbed me over and over,

And I threw off the covers trying to find some relief from the pain.

Oh Charles!
Don't you know everyone hates you?

You haunt us in the dead of the night,

And ruin our dream-filled slumber.

We want to forever banish you and your equine from our rooms,

But you always manage to sneak into our beds when we least expect it.

Oh Charles!
Why are you so cruel?

I was weak from the remnants of your piercing pain all day long,

As I tried to hobble gracefully on my new wedges.

Oh the sympathies I got when I told people of your visit;

"Dude. Last night I was damn near killed by a Charlie Horse!"

The Twitch

Earlier this year I had an eye twitch for almost two months. My coworkers found it very entertaining. I don't know if it was because of stress at work, lack of sleep or what, but it just wouldn't stop. Well...it's back. It's been about 3 weeks since I first noticed it in my right lower lid.

For the first week or so I just kind of ignored it. Though I felt self conscious when talking to people, I figured they couldn't notice it because it's small. But last week, I caught the twitch in the mirror while doing my make up. AAAAAAAHHHHHHH! Oh it's noticeable. The twitch makes my entire lower lid squeeze in and out rapidly and I'm sure anyone standing across the room can see it. As if I'm not enough of a weirdo spaz...the last thing I need is people thinking I'm having a small seizure.

It's like when you have a zit and you're self conscious talking to people. Although I think with a zit, people avoid looking directly at it to be polite and not make you feel bad. But a twitch is different. It's entertaining. People STARE at the freaky eye...waiting for it to twitch again. It's like a little show on your face. And you know people aren't listening to what you're saying once they notice you're twitching. They just nod politely, waiting for the eye to twitch again. And what's worse is that no one has said anything. At least at my last job, the girls would point it out and we could have a good laugh. But I think I'm with people who are too nice now. I just want someone to say; "dude! What's up with your eye?!?!" Is that too much to ask?

Jon and Kate Plus Eight

Sooooooo, Carolyn and I are obsessed. And I mean OBSESSED with Jon and Kate Plus Eight. We both agree that we didn't like it at first, probably because we didn't get it. I personally did not like Kate and the way she talked to everyone, but now I realize if anyone was in her place they'd probably act the same way.

Just to tell you how obsessed we are (besides the fact that I'm upstairs watching the marathon that's on right now and she's downstairs watching it) we went out to dinner last Friday night at this great place with a great atmosphere and we talked about....Jon and Kate Plus Eight. Seriously. We like analyzed it. Like I said, we're obsessed!

Gotta go, the commercial break is over!

Stevie Nicks Soundstage on PBS

What's better than one night of Stevie on TV? Two nights!! Last night was great and part two airs tonight. I'm in heaven.....

Welcome to the Neighborhood!

Housing prices have dropped so much these days, almost anyone can afford to move in to our neighborhood. This family moved in a few weeks ago and we've crossed paths several times. Honestly, they're not very friendly or the most attractive family, and for some reason the parents always seem suspicious of me when I come by to say hello. So since they don't like me anyway, today I decided to grab my camera and invade their privacy.

The House

Have I said yet how much I like my job? I like it. Today I had to go to Santa Cruz to tour a $6.8 million listing which I'll now have to write a feature on. The house sits right on the water and has an amazing view of the beach and ocean. It's a traditional Craftsman style house and the first thing you see when you walk in the door is the wall of windows along the back that look out to the ocean. You can see the Boardwalk and I even saw some otters swimming around and eating seaweed. It was such a nice day there. When it was 105 or so back in the East Bay, I was enjoying the refreshing breeze and 75 degrees on the beach. I could have stayed there all day but, alas, I had to come home.

I took a few pictures for my own reference, but I figured I'd share them with you.

Ironing

Now that I have an important job at an important company in an important office building...I have to look important. That means I have to shop in the important-looking section of stores and buy important clothes made of important fabrics. And THAT means...I have to iron them. I hate it. I want to see if you can hire someone to come to your house and iron your clothes for you. But I don't want to pay them, so it has to be a free service.

Since I hate ironing so much, I'm trying to avoid it as often as possible. And that means I'm flirting with the rationalization of wearing wrinkly clothes. See if you can follow me here. More and more often, I find myself holding up an article of clothing and putting it in one of three categories:

1. Is it ABSOLUTELY necessary that I iron this?
2. Is this article of clothing tight/form fitting enough that when I wear it, it will cling to my body and stretch out the wrinkles so it looks smooth?
3. Is it possible for me to wear this (usually skirt) and have people think that it was ironed, but got wrinkled when I sat down in the car for my drive to the office?

I haven't been brave enough to put too many things into the two latter categories, but I have a feeling that may change as time goes on. I mean, as long as I don't look like a bag lady, does it really matter? Unfortunately, I am hearing my Mother's disappointment in my head right now, so I better go and get my ironing done.