Vacation! Vacation! Vacation!

“Travel brings power and love back into your life.”-Rumi

I’ll be on vacation for nine days, starting tomorrow. The Chef and I are road-tripping it to Texas to visit some of my in-laws. Several posts are pre-scheduled, so the blog won’t be on radio silence whilst I am away. Answering comments might be a bit trickier, but I’ll do my best.

Beachy Clara Bow

Beachy Clara Bow

“After all, the best part of a holiday is perhaps not so much to be resting yourself, as to see all the other fellows busy working.”-Kenneth Grahame, The Wind in the Willows ❤

Daily Diversion #86: Vacation, Holiday, Mini-Break

Whatever you want to call it, I’m on one. I’ll re-cap our amazing Burns Night Supper after I return home in a few days. Until then, you can expect some odds and ends posts, like this optical-illusion filled view from my mom’s apartment. Enjoy!

Partial Columbus Skyline

Partial Columbus Skyline

“I have lived in the East nearly thirty years now, but many of my books prove that I am never very far away from Ohio in my thoughts, and that the clocks that strike in my dreams are often the clocks of Columbus.”-James Thurber

“Columbus is a town in which almost anything is likely to happen, and in which almost everything has.”-James Thurber

(Almost Back) In the Groove

I have physically returned from my southern vacation. Mentally, not so much. As I race around trying to catch up with my life and writing, I promise to throw you a few blogging bones: mostly photos of North Carolina and a couple of Tar Heel inspired musings. Thanks for your patience, and I cannot wait to be back full-time!

The stuff I see in my sleep

A frequently updated blog about the movies my mind shows me while I’m trying to get some rest.

I have a friend. You don’t know her, so the proceeding may not strike you the same way as it did me.  I know this woman personally though, so even if you don’t find it amusing in the least, take my word for it: this story is hilarious.

It is very important to me to mention that this woman – for the sake of anonymity, let’s call her ‘Clothilde’ – would never do the things described below.  She’s one of the most independent, truthful, self-reliant people I know, safely employed in the field of IT and making more money than I could ever hope for.  Because of this, I found it odd when she unfortunately – bafflingly – popped into my head one night and made a terrible showing of herself.

The dream started out with me in some kind of stationery store when I get a call from Clothilde on my cell phone.  She was asking about places that she could vacation in that begin with “St” while on her honeymoon subsequent to her impending wedding, the news of which took me totally by surprise. When I asked her who her fiance was, she didn’t seem to be sure.  There were a lot of vague things about her wedding plans, since she only made them just to enjoy the vacation package that would follow suit.

Selecting her intended was an interesting story. Apparently, in a way that made zero sense to me after I woke up, she had managed to fake her death via simply lying in a coffin. No pulse-obscuring procedures, no means of hiding her body heat – she just lay in a coffin and played dead. She did this because she was going lose the lease to the coffin if she didn’t use it by a certain date.  She had overheard a lot of positive comments about how she looked during her viewing, so, after the ruse was over, she had decided to marry the guy who paid her nicest compliments. He was happy to proceed with the nuptials, presumably unfazed by the fact that she had faked her death. Some guys can be blinded by love, I guess.

So, cut to the day of the wedding.  It was being held at the house I grew up in.  One would have expected the ceremony to take place somewhere directly associated with Clothilde – such as, say, the house she grew up in – but this was a dream that seemed to insist that no practical logic interfere with its narrative whatsoever. I was hanging out in the basement (story of my life), which was oddly devoid of a lot of guests, and by some impetus, I decided to head upstairs and see how the wedding was going.  Why I was in the basement when the ceremony was happening just upstairs

Surprisingly, I found Clothilde, alone, resplendent in her wedding dress – and in tears! The wedding had been cancelled due to a rainstorm.  That’s right:  the wedding was called due to inclement weather.  This would mean that all the guests, the caterers, the pastor administering the ceremony – all of these people decided to up and leave because of a storm. The storm that was happening outside, despite the fact that this was an indoor wedding.

She was heartbroken, sitting on a chair in my family’s kitchen (a rare reference to real life: my family’s kitchen is actually right above the basement).  Why she was heartbroken, I don’t know.  Her affection for the guy she was going to marry was rather questionable, seeing as how she couldn’t even bother to learn his name.  I guess she was really looking forward to that vacation.

It seems that her cleverly-plotted machinations would have all come together, except for one fatal flaw – she, or somebody, kept humming the chorus to the Hamster Dance.  It had occurred to me that that song samples Whistle Stop from Disney’s Robin Hood, which was sung by Roger Miller (he wrote King of the Road ).  I was under the impression that Miller was a county/Western artist (he was more of a novelty song writer), and if she didn’t stop singing the techno-based hamster song, someone would figure out her game, and her whole plan would unravel.  And I was right: her insistence on humming it (or somebody’s, I couldn’t tell who) resulted in a meteorological event so severe that even her anonymous groom left her with no future plans for a do-over.

Okay, now, it is important to me at this point that I remind you that I feel that this person, in reality, is noble, hard-working, and very intelligent. I have never been under the conviction that she has ever faked her own death, would marry simply for gain (and even then, just for a vacation that she could have gone on by herself), or would inadvisedly insist on singing a remix of a Disney tune that was sure to ruin her matrimonial proceedings.  It is so unlike her, in fact, that I had to share this dream knowing she’d get a kick out of reading about it.

If you’re reading this, Clothilde, then thank you for participating in my weird dream.  It was great working with you!