My darling friend John had this dream:
I was sitting at a bar drinking cognac with some people I didn't know, and you walked in (with dark hair) with a few friends, and you were 'looking for the next whiskey bar' ala Jim Morrison and the Doors. I'm not sure what city we were in, but I left my wallet on the table and came back later to find that no one had stolen it. Anyway, no, I do not normally dream about alcohol, and I hate cognac anyway. It kind of cracked me up this morning thinking about it.
I don't care for cognac either. Or whiskey. And, I must confess, I had to google the song reference, since I've never been a big Doors fan. Although I thought Val Kilmer was pretty hot in the bio-pic. And I did visit Morrison's grave in Paris. That was my first trip to Paris, so maybe it was 1992 . . . Is Morrison even still buried there? But the point of that visit was to see Père Lachaise in general, and not Morrison specifically. I recall being more impressed to visit Gertrude Stein, actually.
Then my long-time girlfriend, Janet wrote this today:
Had a dream with you in it the other night. We were flying to Russia with some guy who had a snake. I kept saying that I really didn't want to go on the trip (it was a school trip), and was trying to get home. Very strange.
Remember when people all over the US were having dreams about then-President Clinton? Are you dreaming about me, too? Because I don't want to be president.
Changing topics completely, I bought two pieces of jewelry in Columbus this summer (at a bead shop called Byzantium). One was a carved quartz Ganesh.
I liked so much of what was in the shop, but the problem was I either balked at the price or I wanted an entire collection of something. Then I saw Ganesh. I didn't know anything about him other than he's that Indian god with the elephant head, but I was strangely drawn to this piece. The woman behind the counter told me Ganesh is The Remover of Obstacles and the Patron of Letters. She said, "We're drawn to what we need." Maybe that was just clever marketing, but I had to have Ganesh. And I wear this necklace almost every day.
I bought this little bell at the same time:
It reminded me of Cat-O.
But the best part of this bell is the little clapper:
Can you see the little mouse? Isn't that a riot?
Although I simply HAD TO HAVE IT! I did not wear it until today. The incessant bell-ringing was awfully loud. I held the bell in my hand during most of my Metro commute today because I felt self-conscious and the Moscow Metro is, oddly, a quiet place. People don't talk, probably because the trains are too noisy for chit-chat. And all you hear in the hallways and on the escalators, other than public service announcements, seasonal songs, or ads, is the click-clack of high heels as everyone walks along to their train.
It would make a great cat bell, however, for an outdoor cat/bird killer. Wouldn't it?