It was with great trepidation that I dragged myself to the dentist this morning for my bi-annual cleaning. I always catch myself anticipating my dentist sneezing at a most inopportune time.

We have a dog park in Raleigh that I frequent. It's two acres fenced in and there are usually around twenty dogs there. It's great exercise for mine and conveniently close. Unfortunately, the people that attend are among the more terrifying members of society.

Too Much Detail Woman: I was stuck in an hour long conversation with a woman that, in wanton detail, self diagnosed her dog with "overactive anal glands".

Breed Mongers: These are much more common personages than the Too Much Detail Woman. The Breed Mongers will discuss the merits of each breed, critique other people's dogs and ask you (with a sniff): "So, which one is yours?"

Unlicensed Vets: These are, by far, the worst of the bunch. They will give you unwanted medical advice for your dog ranging from vitamins to exercise routines while thumbing their nose. "He looks kind of skinny. Do you feed him enough?"

No, no I do not feed my dog. I have taught him to suck the nutrients from the very air. I have the world's first aeroponic dog.

POPTARTS!

Poptarts are now the weapon of choice for alien invasion weaponry. If you see one hovering in a town near you, duck! Peking Duck.

...and he keeps stealing my socks.

Dream Time

I had the weirdest dream last night.

I was in the vast dark reaches of space on a (gasp) space station. Except it was like a normal indoor mall (aside from the stars and planets rotating directly beyond the bay windows). A wide variety of aliens were everywhere.

Finally, starving and a little homesick, I found a kickass diner stocked with good, unhealthy, human food. It didn't even have a menu. You just said what you wanted and they brought it out.

I ordered Mexican food.

I ordered Mexican food from Bruce Willis.

A Bruce Willis with long stringy blonde hair, a dirty white apron and yellow teeth.

Apparently, he owned the resturant. He had fled the Earth and hidden away on the station after marrying this strangely obese and greasy alien chick. Eh?

In Regards to Reality

Commercials on television are created to oppose the ugly truths about reality in such a manner as to convince you to buy the product on display.

On commercials:

1.) Pee is blue.

[First off, if my urine ever turns a dark shade of blue, I'm going to stop putting Smurfs in my blender with a slice of lemon. Mmmm. Oh, and then I'll see the doctor]

2.) Cotten clad women are lithe and agile.

[The last time I attempted any type of interpretive dance or gymnastics while wearing only my Hanes underwear, I ended up with a bag of ice and carpet burn]

3.) Men are ruggedly handsome while shaving.

[In my personal experience, all men must make an alarming array of seemingly inhuman and horrifying facial contortions while shaving. I'm more likely to douse them with holy water than to snuggle]

4.) Women awaken refreshed, perfectly coiffed and beautiful.

[Dawn of the Dead. Need I say more?]

5.) When you smile and dance happily to your iPod in public, the world smiles with you.

[No. No it does not. The world glares at you with such hate that your clothing smolders]

[Quotes provided to you today from Bridget Jones' Diary - please equip your British accent, fasten your seatbelts and don't eat the peanuts until we've landed]

I'm about to zip into warp speed from the amount of caffeine I've drank so far today. The two large cups of Folgers were the starter, but the Mountain Dew really kicked things off. The lines of reality are blurring. Captain's Log: "Bug Star date 1205.60.01. We have...(dramatic pause) reached the... (dramatic pause) land of the...red shirts."

"Mother, I do not need a blind date. Particularly not with some verbally incontinent spinster who drinks like a fish, smokes like a chimney and dresses like her mother."

I caught myself singing along like a mad woman to the radio while I was driving to get my lunch. After screeching out the lyrics of an 80's song at the stop light, I turned to my right and saw the () faces of my fellow drivers peering back at me. Either they were close to committing me for my jubilant belting or about to shoot.

"Bridget [to audience]: Here is the man we like to call Mr., uh,
Bridget [to herself]: Titspervert. Titspervert.
Bridget [to audience]: Fitzherbert. Because...uh...that is his name."

Regardless, the light turned green and I decided either potential outcome was rather unacceptable. I would prefer to be neither shot nor committed for singing (poorly) to music in my car during the work week.

Upon my triumphant (and physically whole though mentally unsound) return to work, I was struck by an epiphany. Suddenly, I knew how the world could attain peace and solidarity.

"This calls for some really tiny knickers!"

I finally broke down and purchased a new pair of glasses with transition lenses. They're wonderful outside because they automatically change into sunglasses based upon the intensity of the sunlight. However, there is a downside: Going back inside and stumbling blindly around while waiting for them to readjust which can take upward to almost ten minutes in some cases.

"So tell me, what's it like living in a constant haze of stupidity?" - Hiei (Yu Yu Hakusho)

I went to bed at midnight last night. When I finally dragged out of bed and was on my way to work, I realized that I had left my slippers on: Pink, fuzzy and with blue monkeys holding bananas on the top. Somehow, I don't think they would be considered business casual.

"*bursts into tears* I can't talk about it! It's so horrible! They were-- they were-- the milk! Oh God, the milk!" - Ken Hidaka (Wiess Kreuz)

Luckily, I had a pair of sandals in my car that I was able to slip on before heading into the office. Though, I must admit it was tempting to leave the slippers on.

"I don't like it! It smells girly!" - Kuwabara (Yu Yu Hakusho)



On a bright side, I followed Whisper's Threadless.com advice and found a shirt that demanded purchase. Anything that reads "Shakespeare hates your emo poems" must be worn at all available opportunities.

"I came to laugh at you!" - Chars Aznabal (Gundam)

I beg the question as to why my box of California Sun Dried Raisins is giving me relationship advice.

No, I am not schizophrenic and under the assumption that my California Raisins care about my eventual marriagable state. Nor do they burst forth in anthropomorphic life-size form and proceed to sing, dance and enact Christmas carols in my living room.

The closing flap on the lid of my box of raisins reads, "All relationships have their ups and downs".



Thank you, Dr. Phil in a box.