Saturday Chores; No Flu; An Oriental Dream

It's a windy, chilly Saturday evening, one that might be more associated with November than mid-January. The bushes outside my living room windows scratch at the glass every few minutes like plant creatures intend on getting in. Wind rattles the wind chimes by the back door producing a sudden flurry of metallic chatter. Three of the cats are huddled on the couch entangled in their usual fashion.

After a frizzling, frantic week of computer problems, today's slow pace has proven very recuperative for my dulled wits. I made a single trip out around 11 for lunch and chores. I was actually able to make it to Little Tokyo before the mad onslaught of the hungry masses. Even the pace of the restaurant was leisurely.

My little, aged car and I chugged up the frontage road to Barnes & Noble so I could look for new mags. I picked up a copy of Internet Magazine and also Instinct. They used to carry .net magazine, but I've not seen it in months; most likely sales were limited since it was pricey. Internet Magazine in my opinion has some of the best practical info about creating web pages. Instinct has porn star Ryan Scott on the cover wearing only rose petals, so it was a guilty pleasure.

My last stop was the frequently frequented PetsMart for my semi-monthly purchase of tons of cat food. PM is always fun because I get to see so many pets. I ran into a friend with his pup who was there for shots. Every time I visit my friend, Lady always seems thrilled to see me. She is a very curious, affectionate being that has become one of my best friends.

Back home, I decided it was time to do a little vacuuming. If you live in an older house with five cats and surrounded by trees, there will be just a little dust on occasion. I swiveled the cumbersome, green, loud contraption into the bedroom, whipped out the hose and began watching the dust bunnies disappear.

Then on to the living room which was more difficult because of the furniture. Tried to move the sofa table and tore it apart; this happens about once a month. The dust bunnies in the living room are more the size of dust hares or tumble weeds. The worst part is moving the couch which is a decrepit queen-size sofa bed. The dowels at one end have snapped, so that part has to sit on a book to keep from sagging. The fabric has been ripped in mucho places by the cats. To camouflage some of the damage, I've covered it with an old bedspread and several small table runners. So all in all, it does have a sort of debauched-decorator-look.

By the times I finished, I was drenched with sweat and noticed I was beginning to smell like a wet sheep dog. The shower never felt so good.

I consider myself fortunate not to have caught the flu. The newspaper has an article everyday about the large number of victims and how virulent this year's strain is. I've also read that the flu shot is not necessarily protection. I should not be writing this because I may have just jinked myself.

Last night, I dreamed I was a protestor at a board room of some organization or business. I don't know what I was protesting, but I remember that the board room was in the basement of an old building with windows near the ceiling that were open to the street outside. When the police were called, I slipped out the front door, turned the corner, went down a side street, then slipped into a very narrow alley between two buildings.

The first first part is standard, I suppose. It is the next part that is curious.

I found myself in a sloping, tunnel-like hallway that brought me to an open, indoor plaza like you would find in a very large mall. But everything was oriental. There were seemingly unlimited stores and restaurants on many levels. Some were behind doors, but many were in plazas. The only noise was from fountains and the workers. And everywhere there were secret passages, hidden entrances, sliding panels, tunnels. I think I was some type of Robin Hood-like figure, and the residents were protecting me.

Very strange. I have no idea what this means.

PAX!