trying to fill in the blanks in my mad lib memory

I usually pride myself on my long-term memory.  (Let's not discuss my short-term memory where someone can tell me a time or a number four times and I'll forget it by the time I get to the other side of the room, okay?)  I remember sitting in my car seat, dropping my bear-shaped bottle full of orange juice on the floor of the car, getting frustrated and crying.  I remember falling into the tub of the apartment we moved out of when I was 3, hitting my head on the side, crying even though it didn't really hurt, and feeling all better when my mom gave me a few M&M's.  My memory is awesome!  Or so I thought.

I don't remember what it was (short-term again...ahem), but something made me remember an interesting couple of days in college.  It started out as a protest that the students in my housing complex decided to hold against the director who didn't listen to the needs/complaints of the students living there while living in her posh digs up on the top floor of the building.  I really have no idea why things were so unfair.  I mean, we were living in two-bedroom loft apartments with full kitchens, private bathrooms, an excercise room, a game room, music practice rooms and friendly security guards.  Sure, the hallways could have used a fresh coat of paint and things weren't perfect, but this was the first year our school provided any housing; there were kinks to be worked out.  Other than the psycho roommate I had for a while and the neighbors who would play Madonna at all hours that I could hear even while wearing earplugs and then get mad at me when I'd knock on their door to ask them to turn it down, my time there was pretty pleasant.  Of course I say this now.  Back when I was 19, I heard about people being treated unfairly and by gosh I was going to do something about it! 

The protest was in the form of a sit-in in the commons area.  (This is where we would always convene after the numerous pulled fire alarms at all hours and would get lectured by the Chicago Fire Department.)  I changed the message on our answering machine (yes this was pre-cell phones) letting people know we weren't there because we were busy sitting-in and would get back to them once our point had been made, and after the fire alarm was pulled to signal the beginning (great idea, people) my roommates and I proceeded down to sit...in.

The police were outside because of the fire alarm, a news cameraman was there because one of the "organizers" invited him, but things were completely unorganized, nobody really knew what was being protested, but they sure were mad, and then somehow all hell broke loose when the cameraman was asked to leave and then ended up getting arrested and I think a couple of the students were arrested as well.  Pretty exciting for a girl from a town of 7,000 people. 

I don't remember anything else from that night.  I guess we just went back to our rooms? 

This is blank memory spot number one.  Feel free to fill in the blanks with your own colorful ideas.  After that we __________ (verb) to our __________ (noun).

The next day, one of my roommates (I had anywhere from 2-3 roomies over the course of 2 semesters) and I were walking through the lobby of our building and she did a double-take toward the security desk.  "Oh my god, I just creamed my pants.  That's __________ from Channel ___ News!  He's a fuckin' god!" 

And this is where the most frustrating part of this spotty memory lies.  For the life of me, I cannot remember the name of the reporter who was there or the channel he was with.  I suppose it's not terribly important, but I'm now obsessed with trying to find this out.

I had no clue who this person was.  We didn't have a tv in our room, so I never watched the news, and being from Wisconsin, I wasn't familiar with the Chicago news-folk.  I had to agree with her astute observation of his good looks though.  God?  Maybe not, but he was pretty easy on the eyes.

We decided to non-chalantly go over to the security desk to see what was up and if we could be of any assistance.  He and his cameraman were trying to take a look around, but they wouldn't allow him in for security reasons unless he was a guest of a resident and signed in as any other guest would.  We were more than happy to make him our guest.  The cameraman had to stay behind though.  We didn't care, he wasn't that cute anyway.  The kind security guard was a little leery, but had no valid reason to say no, so he was ours!  Okay, our guest.

____________ (Ugh!) signed in, gave his ID, and we were off.  We showed him where the director lived, the smell of fresh paint wafting through the air.  We took him to the common areas including the game room and exercise room, and then we took him up to our floor and then our room.  (Yeah baby!)  The walls oh the hallways were in dire need of a new paint job, the carpeting already needed to be replaced, and the smell of pot (it was an art school) mingled with the nose-stinging aroma of burned popcorn, but it all passed as soon as we got in our room.  Clean, spacious, 4 empty beds... 

And then I go blank again, so now it's time to play.  We took ___________ (name) to our ___________ (place) and __________ (verb) until we couldn't ____________ (verb) anymore.

When we were done, he asked if he could interview one of us, and me being an introvert but not wanting to miss a rare opportunity, agreed.  He had me stand on the front stairs of the building and asked me questions about the conditions, the reports of racism (which I really hadn't heard much about though it was apparently the underlying reason for the protest that I hadn't heard about), and damn he had beautiful blue eyes. 

Spotty memory again.  He asked me "How do you feel about __________ (noun) in your _________(noun)?"  To which I replied, "I'm a small-town girl.  I don't really _________(verb) that way."   I do remember wanting to kick myself after the small-town girl comment though because I just happened to be dressed in overalls, a white tank top, white Chucks and had my hair in pigtails.  Way to go city, girl!  Also, the fact that I can remember exactly what I was wearing, but not what the guy's name was astonishes me.

My response, what ever it might have been, made him chuckle and then he threw this one at me.  "Well, Danny Bonaduce lives just down the road from you.  What do you think about that."  I laughed at that one and replied...um, yeah...I have no idea what I said.  Let's just make this one up completely.  "I think he should __________ (verb) __________ (plural noun) in a _________(adjective) _________(place)."

That was the end.  I watched the news in the tv in our commons area at 5,6 and 10, but there was no story about our little student scuffle at all.  I guess our little unorganized hubbub really had no bearing on the outside world - especially in a city as big as Chicago.   Of course, maybe the fact that it was John Wayne Gacy's execution day had something to do with it.

A year or two later, I remember being at a movie and  Mr. News God played a news anchor...or an entertainment news show anchor.  I don't really remember,  And I certainly don't remember which movie it was.   I do remember turning to my fiance and saying a little louder than I should have, "Oh my god!  That man was in my bedroom!"  It was met with extremely puzzled looks from the people around me and I had some explaining to do after the movie was over.

I've scoured the internet looking for both a list of Chicago reporters from 1994 and "news anchor" characters on IMDB, but haven't found what I'm looking for.  (I did find one Chicago reporter who was in a movie in the 90's, but that was Lester Holt who is now on the Today Show.  Though my reporter's skin color was very similar...this was not Lester Holt.) 

The internet has failed me.  My memory has failed me.  Hopefully you can help me out.  If you know your Chicago newscasters and have a clue as to who this might have been or if you came up with some great Mad Lib memories, leave them in the comments.

rain tease

As I was taking the dogs out this morning, the rain tease came back. What is a rain tease, you ask? Let me illustrate.

Rain: Drip. Drip...  Drip.

Extremely Dry Grass: Ooh! Well, hello there.

Rain: Drip, drip, drip. Sprinkle.

Grass: Aww yeah! Ooh, that feels good.

Rain: Sprinkle. Light raaaaiiin!

Grass: Now that's what I'm talking about!

Rain: Light rain. Sprinkle, sprinkle, sprin...drip. Drip.

Grass: Hey! What's goin' on here?

Rain: Drip. Drip...Drip...

Grass: Come on, baby. Don't do this to me. You know I love you. Just a little bit more? I was just about to turn green!

Rain: Drip...

Extremely Dry and Frustrated Grass: Damn rain tease...

the smells of the season

Ah, the summer solstice.  We're on the third day of 90 degree temps, have had very little rain, yet we have a hint of humidity in the air that makes the heat not only hit you like a brick wall when you walk out the door from the comfort of your air conditioned home, but it also sticks to you like a thin layer of slime that you just can't shake off.



With every new season comes new scents and smells that make you think, "Ah, yes.  It's that time of year again." Autumn brings the smell of fallen leaves and the smoke from burning them.  Winter has a crisp scent that comes with a newly fallen snow.  Spring is full of the pleasant aroma of  flowers and spring rains.  Summer?  Well, summer has a variety of fragrances: Cocoa butter in sunscreen, chlorine from the neighborhood pool, deep fried foods at the county fair, hamburgers on the grill, festering garbage in the dumpsters that haven't been emptied in a week, and the always enjoyable decomposing bloated roadkill on the side of the road.

Happy Summer!  Is it October yet?

what my dreams are telling me

I have had the most screwed-up dreams over the past couple of weeks.  I have no clue why or what's going on.  At first I thought it was the full moon, then thought maybe it was the whole Venus transit thing, but now we're past those and I'm at a loss for an excuse.  Figuring that my subconscious must be trying to tall me something, I've decided to consult the all-knowing interweb to tell me what my inner self apparently wants the rest of me to know. 

I remember parts of a dream that I had on Sunday night, so let's dissect that one, shall we? 

For some reason, I'm on a large spaceship (1).  Something along the size of an Imperial Cruiser.  Wait, no, larger than that.  Probably the size of the bigger one here:


According to Wookieepedia, this is a Super Star Destroyer.
It also tells you exactly what it's fitted with, how many rooms, etc.
Who comes up with this stuff?  And why?


I have no idea what I was doing there or how I somehow shifted to the next scene...

My son and I were in the middle of some town in the middle-east.  Apparently there was some sort of war (2) going on (big surprise), bombs going off all around us, total chaos.  I got him away from that town, but had to get us on a plane (3) which we were about to miss (4), and I couldn't find our tickets (5) or our ID (6).  I was absolutely frantic trying to find them so I could get my son to safety...and then I woke up.


(1) Spaceship: To see a spaceship in your dream symbolizes your creative mind. It denotes a spiritual journey into the unknown and signals self-development and self-awareness. Alternatively, the dream suggests that you need to take on a different perspective, no matter how bizarre or unusual it may be.  

(2) War: To dream of a war signifies disorder and chaos in your waking life You are experiencing some internal conflict or emotional struggle which is tearing you up inside. Alternatively, the dream indicates that you are either being overly aggressive or that you are not being assertive enough. Perhaps you need to be prepared to put up a fight in some area of your life. 

(3) Airplane: To dream that you miss your flight indicates that you are feeling helpless and trapped by some situation. You feel that you are being held back, either physically or mentally. Alternatively, the dream may also suggest that you are feeling disconnected in some aspect of your life - work, relationship or home life.

(4) Late: To dream that you are late signifies your fear of change and your ambivalence about seizing an opportunity. You may feel unready, unworthy, or unsupported in your current circumstances. Additionally, you may be overwhelmed or conflicted with decisions about your future. Time is running out and you no longer have time to accomplish all the things you want. Alternatively, being late in your dream could be telling you that it is better late than never. 

(5) Losing a ticket: Denotes confusion and ambiguity in the direction of your life
 (6) ID: To dream that you lose your I.D. denotes confusion about your own self-identity and your sense of individuality.


So, what does this teach us about what my subconscious mind is telling me?  Let's see...

I have a very creative mind and should use it to look at things with a different perspective.  I have quite a bit of inner conflict going as I feel trapped and helpless, but at the same time fear change.  I'm confused about who I really am and the direction my life is going, but time is running out to make those changes.

Well, shit.

This was supposed to be completely wrong and funny, but it seems to be spot on. 

So, for me to get back to nice, pleasant, sunshine, rainbows and sex dreams I either have to get my life the way I want it or medicate myself.  I think the medication would probably be easier...

good morning

I took today off for many reasons - the official one being my son's last day of school. In actuality, I think it's much more a mental health day.

It's currently 8:30 am, the weather is perfect, I'm sitting on my balcony in my pajamas sipping coffee, planning my grocery shopping excursion, and watching the ducks in the pond across the street from me as medieval music plays quietly from my phone beside me.

From time to time my attention is caught by some of the barn swallows that are trying to make a home in the eaves below me. I watch as one flies from the pond area carrying a large feather in its beak. From time to time it loses its grip on it and quickly dives to catch it before it hits the ground. This happens three or for times to the poor thing. It finally lands on the gutter near where it is nesting and sets the feather down to rest. The feather is caught by the slight breeze and falls into the bushes below. The poor little swallow tries to retrieve it, but it just can't get to it. All that work and it is lost. After resting for another minute or so it goes right back to work collecting more materials.

Here I feel sorry for it but then I wonder if it has the capacity to feel disappointment or if or is just another step in the instinctual task of nest building.

With this, I realize that I am doing too much deep thinking for this hour and decide to go back to my coffee drinking and grocery list writing.

what i'd rather be doing

I have a crapload of reports I should be working on, but I just can't focus on them.  I start one, glance at something online or go into some daydream, then it takes me 15 minutes to get back on task.  I guess that's what one would call easily distracted or completely unmotivated or a combination of them both.

SQUIRREL!!

I don't know what's caused it - maybe the full moon, maybe just boredom with my job.  How to combat it?  I suppose I could close out the internet, put a huge pile of papers in front of me to show me just how much I need to do as some strange form of motivation, but I've decided to compile a list of things I'd rather be doing instead.  These are things that would be possible, not the fantastical things like Vacation in Rome.  I mean, things like that are just given...

• Reading in the sun while working on my summer color.  Actually I did a bit of this during lunch, but it's hard to get a good tan in work clothes.
• Having lunch with some friends.  And laughing.
• Preparing a pinhole camera to see Venus in Transit
• Hiking.  Preferably with at least one other person for fear of abduction
• Sex  (Duh)
• Listening to a lecture about anything.  At this point, I think anything different would be better than these things.
• Watching The Avengers again and gorging on buttery popcorn and a small soda.  That's how I roll.
• Looking at pictures of men I have schoolgirl crushes on and escaping into a little fantasy world, but not while I'm at work
• Going out and taking meaningless pictures of things I see every day, but at different angles
• Singing along with the radio.  I'm feeling silly, so how about some 80's classics?

Okay, back to it.  For another 10 minutes.  Until I start thinking about something else again.