If You Don't Like Reading About Other People's Dreams Just Stop Right Now And Come Back Later

When I went to my job at the television station (because this was a dream I was not working at the television station that I currently fill in at and I don't recall exactly which television station it was, it's all getting a little hazy - thankfully) only to discover that FOUR of my ex-boyfriends had started working there and every time I ran into one it went exactly the same:

Old Boyfriend #Whatever: Hi Stacey, good to see you again! How are you?

Dream Me: Really, I'm a little freaked out. I just found out that four of my old boyfriends are working here now.

Old Boyfriend #Whatever: Really. Who else?

Then Dream Me would name a name and the Old Boyfriend that I was talking to would say "You dated him?! I know him!" and it turns out they all knew each other and none of them could believe that I'd dated the others and it was getting really uncomfortable and then one of them tried to kiss me and another one walked in and, really, at that point I just wanted to get to work.

According to my Amateur Dream Analysis my past is coming back to haunt me, but I think I could use some professional help here. Anyone?

Now It's Really For Sale

My house has been For Sale By Owner (FSBO, in the biz) for a month now and we finally broke down and signed with an agent/agency and now there's a lock box on my door and tomorrow there will be a big strong sign in the yard (as compared to my flimsy hardware store sign which ends up doing back bends with all this strong wind) and soon some professionally printed brochures will be sitting in my foyer and, yes, I know it is just a house but my friend Don totally designed the mantel over the family fireplace (OK, I own those pieces and I'm taking it with me) but he also built the darling shelves in my kids' rooms which hold their trophies and photos and collectibles and I nearly put my back out 4 years ago painting my bedroom Caribbean Blue and trying to move the armoire back into place by myself while my husband was out of town and I pulled a While You Were Out and emptied the office and rented a sander to redo the floor and totally refinished the office and filled it with new furniture and all of the awesome sports photos and collectibles we own during another weekend when he was gone and, yes again, a new house is going to be fun and exciting but I'm a little nostalgic right now and how do you translate into dollars all the sweat and time and dreams you have put into a house because that's what it comes down to - dollars.

The Tin Man Tries To Dance

I've never been one of those girls with a sexy walk or way of moving or even, if I'm totally honest, a sexy way of doing anything. You know how some girls look sexy just standing around breathing? Somehow that gene passed me by. And I've not done anything in my life so far that has forced me to take on a sexier persona - I managed to land a husband and have a couple kids by being cute, funny, and little bit bossy. So, now that I'm taking dancing lessons I'm being forced to confront my lack of sexiness. Today, for a good 20 minutes I was practically date-raping a pole at the dance studio trying to learn how to manipulate my body in a sexier manner. And my partner had to bring out Anastasia, The Queen of Wiggling, to show me how to do a move that most 4-year olds know how to do these days thanks to Dancing With The Stars and Miley Cyrus.

Is there a pill I can take? A manual I can read? Somehow there has to be a way for me to learn how to do what 90% of the female population inherently knows. Or maybe I should just give up and buy a Tin Man costume to dance in because THAT's what I'm going to look like anyway.

Blogs On Hold

I fell in love with a house I can't afford and can't stop obsessing about fabulous it would be to live there and how it is everything I want in a house - location, size, layout, kitchen, bedrooms, curving staircase to library (and I didn't even KNOW I wanted a curving staircase to library until I saw this!) which has led to me obsessing about new ways to make money (clarification: New Ways To Make Money With My Limited Skills - I mean I have some skills but they're not your everyday get-out-there-and-crunch-some-numbers-type skills or invent-SillyBandz-type skills (and I really wish I had invented SillyBandz, don't you?)) which leads me to my New Business Venture...

Blogs On Hold

For a Price To Be Named Later I will write a witty blog about your company and read it in an entertaining manner for your customers to listen to while they are on hold.

Brilliant, right?

I'm just going to sit back and wait for the phone to ring. (And, yes, this job will be using all the skills I have at once.)

OK, back to obsessing.

Dancing with the Inflexible

God Bless Evan at Fred Astaire Dance Studio in Bloomfield Hills who, for some reason, believes that there is a Tiny Dancer in me fighting to get out. Somehow I am competing in two Dancing with the Local Stars-type competitions this fall and Evan has partnered me with Tino, the Best Dancer In The Whole Wide World (no, really, Google it, he's got about a million national titles) who I think will manage to manipulate me around the floor in some version of The Hustle that won't look too bad as long as I can remember where my feet go. Poor Tino. I told him my daughter is a figure skater and why he thought that mean that I have any skills I don't know but I assured him that there are no splits or back handsprings in my repertoire and he managed to look only mildly disappointed but did change our music from something funky and sexy by the Pussycat Dolls to Walk This Way by Aerosmith and Run DMC so I imagine I will be doing less dancing and more stomping around and gesturing like the World's Clumsiest And Unflamboyant Drag Queen.

Or Kate Gosselin. Whichever mental image works for you.

Zombie vs. Vampire

"Mom, would you rather be bitten by a zombie or a vampire?"

"Would being bit by a zombie turn me into a zombie?"

"Duh!"

"Oh, then vampire."

"Yeah. Plus, being bit by a zombie just makes you ugly."

An Open Letter To A Bad Day

Dear Tiny Little Irritations:

I realize that you are tiny and by yourself you are meaningless and THAT is why you feel the need to show up in gangs and I know it's easy to act all big and tough when there are lots of you but let me tell you that I am in NO MOOD to deal with any of you today (although one of you did almost make me cry; note how I said almost because I refuse to give you the satisfaction) and I will slowly and methodically stomp you out like the bugs that you are.

It may not be today, it may not even be tomorrow, but consider yourself warned that I will be through with all of you by the end of the week (or, at the very least, the end of the month). ALL OF YOU!

Love and Kisses,

Stacey

Annoying, But Not Worth Dying Over

I know, I know. I shouldn't have honked at the guy who ran the stop sign and forced me to hit the brakes. Especially since I ended up behind him and happened to turn left down the same street so he decided to stop and get out of his car and perhaps confront me about why I was following him except I wasn't following him I was just trying to get to Meijer and I wouldn't have been behind him in the first place if he hadn't run the frickin' stop sign. So I drove right by him and his reflective crossing-guard vest, and why was he wearing a reflective crossing-guard vest at 1 pm anyway? Perhaps he just stopped to get out of his car and explain to me that he ran the stop sign because crossing guards don't have to follow the traffic rules like mere mortals do.

Guess I'll never know.

A Few Notes From Last Night's Aerosmith Concert

I was putting my sunglasses in the glove box in my husband's car and noticed that his glove box only contains Happy Meal toys and bubble gum. It's like his car is owned by a 10-year old.

When the concert was about to start Hubby said "It might get loud. Do you need earplugs?" Loud? Really? I've been on a bus full of 2nd graders on a field trip to the Detroit Science Center. Aerosmith didn't even come close.

There was a family in the row in front of us and at one point the mother leaned over to the daughter - who was sitting - to apparently ask her if she was OK or having fun or needed a drink or whatever. I'm only guessing, but perhaps the 12-year old girl was made uncomfortable by her plaid-shorts-wearing dad singing Rag Doll at the top of his lungs.

"Hot tramp, Daddy's little cutie
So fine, they'll never see ya
Leavin' by the back door, man
Hot time, get it while it's easy
Don't mind, come on up and see me
Rag Doll, baby won't you do me, baby won't you do me, baby won't you do me...
Like you done before"

Nice.

And, last but not least, are Joe Perry and Dermot Mulroney related?