Call me Cleo

Three years ago I slipped into a physic vortex, as I am rapidly learning. What I'm about to tell you is neither fact nor fiction, for all is but illusion when it comes to the divining arts.

Last night I went shopping with Nicole. Upon the request of Haras we looked for, and found a pair of jeans for her. Any one of the female persuasion reading this will know that buying jeans is far from an exact science. Size is nothing but an arbitrary number in the world of denim, and often the ratio of hips-to-thighs fabric leaves you looking like a beluga whale in a panty hose. (Bad metaphor courtesy of Haras) So, needless to say, I was a little concerned with picking out the right size and color. To my amazement when we got home Haras slipped the prized jeans on (they were only $12!) and they fit like a glove that was made out of denim and fashioned for the lower half of you body. They were neither too big (which would imply that I thought we was larger than she is) nor too small (which would imply that she was bigger than I thought she SHOULD be) (that's what we like to call a Lose-Lose-LOSE situation)

But amidst my personal triumph something slowly began to dawn on me. "This has . . . happened . . . before . . ." I slowly stammered out; quiet enough that my com padres couldn't here me over their own elation. "OH MY GOSH!" I shouted. They both turned and looked at me expectantly. I could see the terror in Sarah's eyes as she searched the floor for the most likely (in her mind) cause of my outburst. But the lurking spiders would live one more night in peace, for what I was about to say trumped them all.

"I dreamt this EXACT thing."

Silence.

I could tell that they were impressed; their blank stares revealing the astonishment that I had known would overpower them. But something was wrong. The stares continued for much longer than they should, they couldn't really be this dense could they?

"I don't think you understand," I continued. "Three years ago I had a dream that for some reason I was buying you jeans, and I was really concerned about getting the right fit and color and everything . . . " A small flicker of recognition showed in their faces and I saw my opportunity to pounce.

"Nicole, you remember! Forever ago when I told you I had a dream that I was on a date with Daryl from home and then two years later I WAS!" Pause for dramatic effect. "IN THE SAME CAR!" More drama. "AT THE SAME INTERSECTION!"

I still couldn't be sure if they grasped what I was telling them, but gradually their countenances changed. By the looks on their faces they were either contemplating the sheer magnitude of what I'd said, or how high the set of costs would be for a small, in home, psychic parlor.

Sarah's final comment summed up what I had suspected all along. "If you ever have a dream about, say, who I'm going to marry . . . be sure and tell me about it."

My response? "Give me a quarter, I read your palm."

Today's Obsession

All right. All right. It's been awhile. ALL RIGHT. I get it. No one even bothers to check anymore because the chances that there will be something new is like . . . less than the number of people who've checked my blog in the last couple weeks. Pretty soon my previous posts are going to be sucked in the black hole created by the lack of interest in my blog. Soaring through wormholes and reappearing out of some vortex they'll appear on the other side of space. I'm not a SciFi nerd. (I like to say quark.)

"So what," you ask mundanely "have you been doing with your ridiculous amount of free time at work?"
"Well," I respond, ignoring the impulse to make a stupid joke about your futile attempt at humour via the juxtaposition of "free time" and "at work", thereby earning your respect and admiration for my superior understanding of social cliche's, "I write a lot of run on sentences."

After much more banter, and several more hilarious and witty retorts by my self, and a few blundered jokes by you, you finally lose your patience and demand to know what I did all day at work, because you KNOW I wasn't working the whole time.

The answer is this my friends. I've discovered a new blog. www.mindyephron.blogspot.com


If any of you are fans of The Office (please say yes!) you'll recognize Mindy as "Kelly" the bimbo-blond-Indian girl who loves pink the color, Pink the person, and basically anything that is awesome. And that's what her blog is. (Awesome, not pink) It's titled "Thing's I've Bought That I Love" and love them she does.

Besides being filled with amazing beauty products (and other stuff) that makes you want to run to the nearest mall, she's also surprisingly funny in that way that professional comedy writers sometimes are. So far my favorite discovery via Mindy is ecreamery.com where you create your own custom ice cream. I created The Pink Panther which is Anise and Black Cherry gelatto with dark chocolate chips. I have no idea if it'll be any good but it sure sounds tempting!

Anyway that's all. Now I'm bored again and I've already read through all the archives . . . on to the next.

Price: $0. It's free!
Cost: By the time I've bought all the stuff I desperately need but didn't know existed before . . . much more than my average paycheck. I think I've got my Christmas list filled out.