By this time of night, especially if Gary is out of town, I sit down at the computer with all intentions of spilling some beans. The beans are quickly forgotten for the likes of TMZ and Perez Hilton. I'm not too proud to admit that.

I had all intentions of beginning some tales, not even blogging, of my time as a "historical interpreter" at Carillon Park in Dayton. This was the age when all interpreters at the park were pretty much in high school & college. We were young, we were smart, and we loved Dayton. Ah, bless us, we loved Dayton.

I can't muster it tonight. It's chipper. But oh, TMZ and Perez Hilton. They're my Skittles.

Gary in Fairbanks. Drove past the spot we had our picture taken six years ago. My shirt was raised a bit. I was wearing a PINK shirt! Some horrible khaki pants! I thought I was so very special. Or did I? I think I got every last bit of clothing at Planet Exchange or the Thrift Store. I knew how to work poor. Still do.

But khaki? Oh, dear.

I recently read the book the Sweet Hereafter. I saw the film first. Oh shoot! Our copy is still in Ohio...down below. Add that to the list of things for Mom to ship!
The book is very effective. Such narrative beauty. But, really? I'm bowing to Atom Egoyan on the story, even though it wasn't his originally. What that man can bring out of a story and out of his actors is astonishing. You think about every.single.breath.

I have to put it here so I can watch without searching on youtube.

I'm practically all the way Canadian now. :)

I'll have to ask the landlord if we can paint some accent walls. Or I'll just paint on every scrap of paper we own. I bought some gold leafing today. The art store was in a dream I had a week or so after we moved here. I was SO thirsty in the dream! After picking out something in a BIG jug I bought some apple juice. In waking, I snuck upstairs @ our friends house we were staying at and drank some juice that was not mine. I tried not to wake the animals, noisy things. That's the second time or third that I've been inside one of my dreams up here. A little while before we moved I dreamt I was in a warehouse, with a built-in second floor, loft...we went into Gary's studio he works for now on Saturday before the Running of the Reindeer and there it was. Same thing. The other was the mall I've dreamt about for almost 10 years. It's the downtown mall. And yes, I have a recurring mall dream. Maybe it's all the eighties movies I watched in the eighties. Baby boomers might have Woodstock dreams, their children dream of retail.

Will I find my museum here? The one on the hill? I've searched for it always, but it hasn't revealed itself in the real world yet. Only in the gossamer bits of my dreams.