Dream-weaver

"Give me fuel,
Give me fire,
Give me that which I desire!"

I am standing on stage, holding the guitar. I realize two things: there is scrambled egg stuck to my guitar because I didn't run the dishwasher and I don't know how to play. My biggest concern, though, is not that I am mumbling the words because I can't remember them or the odd noise issuing defeatedly from my impotent instrument. I am, instead, terrified that my brastrap will show when I start headbanging.

Wow. I'm a-Freud to analyze THAT dream!

It's enough to make a chick want a second cup of coffee. . .

Today Five turns Six. That sure went by fast. Fourteen and I will join her for lunch. We'll enjoy a little Olive Garden Salad amidst the kindergartenters. They are an easy crowd to please. . .and they don't care if my brastrap shows.

Have fun!