Nice Dream

I have decided to discard the draft entry I started this morning that was turning into a complaint about my very own bona fide computer genius (but... the anti-virus program on my laptop has been running since Thursday. Surely that can't be right? Patrick's suggestion to stop it seems logical, but don't I want my anti-virus to do whatever it is it's supposed to be doing? Would stopping it accomplish anything? I just want to know when it will be done. I'm starting to feel like his friends and my family are getting the Gold Plated Fake Geek Squad Treatment, and I am, maybe just a little, getting the shaft) but it was coming off as too whiny and complain-y, two things that I am, actually, right now. But hiding that from you all seems like a good idea (ignore the first parenthetical item above, please).

Anyway, follows are some emails I sent to my friend Michael recently. He has yet to reply with anything really funny, and I'm starting to doubt his claims of being "funny." Well, maybe he is, but he sure ain't punctual.* And I am really only writing this to avoid cleaning the house and doing the laundry. And hey, what do you know: it's way past time for lunch. And I have a freezer full of chicken pot pies, too.

from: Irene
to: Michael
date: Tue, Aug 26, 2008 at 11:00 AM
subject: Dream!

I don't know what it is about being in touch with you again, but this is the second dream with you in it in like a month. This one's not going on the blog. If I had gotten right up and started writing this maybe I would remember more details but since I forgot all about it until after I'd played a couple of moves in Wordscraper and fed the cats, it's all totally sketchy now.

Here's the part I remember: you and I were somewhere. A house? A restaurant? A spacecraft? I have no idea, but it had four walls, a floor and a ceiling. And a phone. The phone rang, I picked it up. It was Bo. Bo says to me, in that silly/sexy voice he hits me with once in a while, "You... could be my... sister-in-law."

I looked at you, and told you what he just said, and asked you, "What the fuck does that mean?" You told me something, but now I don't remember. It could be the winning lottery numbers, couldn't it.

from: Irene
to: Michael
date: Tue, Aug 26, 2008 at 6:45 PM
subject: Dream!

I changed my mind. This is totally blog material. Waiting for your witty reply though. Make it good; you're this close be being listed on the sidebar "I like stuff..." section of my blog.

Okay, okay, he did reply, but it was mostly to just say that he knows he would've said something better than what I remember. Well, sure, buddy, and in my dream I'm sure I was a size 4 and didn't have these fucking bangs. Next time I have a dream with a comedian in it, remember that they're the comedian. Not me. I'm just the dreamer.

And, Michael is totally in the "I like stuff" section. I was just bluffing.