Hello world, again.
Coming up for air, perhaps briefly or steadily. I have been drowning in work, afraid to stop and even more scared that after all my deadlines have passed, nothing else will appear in the queue. But I've been wrong about this before, so hoping the dying economy will bypass me this time, too.
Last night I had a dream that convinced me I was stuck in a rut. I was wandering in an enormous Tower Records/HMV/Virgin-type megastore (hmm, all of which have bitten the dust). I stopped in front of a wall lined from floor to ceiling with magazines on all topics imaginable--massive and overwhelming, a paper version of the Internet. My favorite sections, the graphic design/architecture/media
"Hey," he said with a wink, "want to have some fun? Why don't you take my magazines to the cashier, and I'll bring yours? Let's get even more and really freak her out," he added.
It sounded like a daring and even dangerous proposition. What would people think? But I knew I had to do it.
So we raced up and down the aisles, I amassing a pile of biker, tattoo, and video game magazines, and he staggering under the weight of People and Martha Stewart. We ran up to the cash register and threw our respective stacks on the conveyor belt. The cashier looked at us like we were nuts. I smiled.
I woke up realizing it was time to charge a few bad habits and become a (relatively speaking) tattooed biker once again.
Meanwhile, Happy Thanksgiving (to those Americans who happen to be reading)! The hall outside my apartment has smelled like turkey since about 7:30AM. In a few hours I'll head downtown for my usual tradition of a movie and dinner with family and friends, much more fun than sweating over a stove. Wishing all of us what the pilgrims dreamed about: freedom, bounty, and peace.