Clareified

I, for one, am calling social services.

So I just got a call from carol saying that I was texting her boyfriend during tonight’s drug addled blogging. Which is odd because I didn’t think I had his number, so I am evidently calling 411 to get numbers of new people to call and freak out in the moments before I pass out. I’m starting to think it’s time to lock the cellphone away before I really start contacting people that will definitely mandate my killing myself after.

I think Laura and Jenna Bush are hiding in my guest bathoom. She doesn’t her father to find her and make her marry that guy. Thereeeee iiinnnn thhheeererere!

My doctors had to switch one of my prescriptions, which suddenly stopped performing its job of keeping me free from excruciating pain whenever I attempt to swallow and process solid food. She instead gave me meds which while it makes digestion painless, it causes the walls of my bedroom to melt and my fingers to turn into stone, and I lose all speech and cognitive function. I thought it would be fun to figure out how long it takes for me to become completely unable to form, any kind of coherent thought.
So, here goes:
I once knwew a blind man who would nowreite potatos abohyut gekdan danger, geklp. helop. eirocks everything looks like rocks even my handsTey are rocks and the keybard is rock. I cant tell when the keybpoard ends and rock fingers begin. I can no longer hold up my head. ANd my eyelids are closing. I still see my rocky hands. I am not operate heavy machinery or drive or walk within five minutes after taking this pill. I am giggling now. Sleep comes soon. I was first alerted to these effects because I would text people what at the time were very very important messages and the next day, KJ would be all “umm.. Dawn…are you on crack? Cause you can tell me…i wont judge.” I had a whole im with Karol with was rows and rows of my typing help spelled all manners of ways.
Fleep

So, I’m sitting here prepping for a job interview; you know, the usual, running through various legal issues I’ve handled, my role on various cases, my hopes and dreams and why Whatever LLP would make all those dreams come true. I’m plugging away, when it suddenly dawns on me…I bought a lottery ticket yesterday! So, I stop everything, log-in to New York’s lottery site to see if I had won.
I did not.
Back to our previously scheduled ass kissing of Whatever LLP partners.

Since he was the only one smart enough to bet against a TV addict trying to give up TV, I defer to him as the harbinger of good judgment and I assume that it’s cool to blog dreams again.
So here goes:
I wasn’t feeling well tonight and went to sleep early. I dreamt I was invited to a poker game at Glenn Close’s house. I hadn’t RSVPd, but Karol assured me there was still space. There were eight women there, but Glenn came downstairs and said only two people had RSVpd, so she was canceling the game. I promptly said “okay, game relocated to my house.” I offered four of the women a lift. Glenn was positively livid. “You will do no such thing,” she said, her eyes flickering in positively Dangerous Liaison/that movie where she cooks the rabbit, fashion.
We ignore her and head for the door. I cannot find my car. I keep hitting the red alarm button I use for malls, but nothing. Then I see Glenn sitting in the driver’s seat of a parked car that looks like mine. “You’re not going anywhere, Dawn”
I laugh at her when I realise she thinks she’s won, but since it’s not my car, she’s just B&Ed someone else’s vehicle.
She sees me still looking for my car, leaps out the look alike car and starts chasing me. I run.
But. Dream or no dream, I am still pretty out of shape, so she catches me.
She starts to bitch me out for shangahing her game when I give one of what would Mary Katherine Gallagher’s all-time greatest movie of the week speeches, if Molly Shannon did that inside of craptacular romantic comedies about dogs.
I say “Calm down Glenn..oh my god, I am talking to Glenn Close. I really admire your work by the way.”
She smiles, but her arms are still triumphantly crossed in front of her chest.
“Look, Glenn, I love playing poker. If I’m playing poker, I want to keep playing poker: If I’m not playing poker, I want to find some poker to play. I’ve played Omaha, Stud, Pineapple, Crazy pineapple, Razz, some Kansas City Lowball bullshit that you wouldn’t believe, all because I LOVE playing poker. Now, you have the game, great, I will sit down, buy chips and play right now. If not, I’m getting in my car and having a game at my place.”
(How badass is dream Dawn??)
She gives me a cool stare and says “I’m not having a game for people who didn’t rsvp.”
I say “well, I guess we have an understanding,” and I walk away.
She does not give chase and I imagine that she now wears an expression of begruding admiration.
Anyway, I finally find my car and Barbra Streisand is sitting shotgun!
In that unmistakeable Streisand accent she says “I figured it would be alright.”
I’m all verklempt, but I nod assent.
There is a lot of traffic back to my place, I miss my exit and end up on the wrong road. I spot the car with the other players up ahead and somehow they help me pick my car up and place it on the right road. Shoulder shrug, it’s a dream. What?
Anyway, in the shuffle Meryl Streep — who is in the other car– falls in a pothole and so only the top of her head is sticking out. I reach in, grab her by the shoulders and pull her out. We proceed home for the game.
And then my cellphone woke me up.
What the heck does it mean?

137,212 People

He evidently died on my birthday exactly 356 years* before I was born.

*I did the math myself, so give or take 112 years

How is it possible that they still haven’t figured out a way to draw blood without causing severe injury and horrifying bruises? Pout.

Okay kids, now you shouldn’t ever try to scam money from your mother, but if you’re going to try…you shouldn’t call your mom claiming to need $500 because you’re braindead. Just sayin’. And yeah folks, that is a true story.