Blah weather, weird dreams and random thoughts

Apparently, I spoke too soon about the glorious spring weather, how this time it'd stick, etc. etc. etc. I'm back to a wool turtleneck sweater today, although I still refuse to wear my winter coat until next year, on principle. But I'm actually happy for the rain, which I hope will help out our dead lawn, and which also reduces my longing to be outside playing instead of inside working.

I don't know what's going on in the universe, but I'm hearing about lots of bizarro dreams, some in excruciating detail. A co-worker -- who felt compelled to describe her dream both in an email to me and in the middle of a meeting yesterday -- had a dream that Nicole Kidman joined our staff, and we were comforting the dreamer with kindness and graham crackers as we helped her look for her lost dog. And my sister described a dream in which she was using contraceptives that she had to administer aurally several times each day, only they were too big for her ear.

I just had run-of-the-mill anxiety dreams all night long: I was on an important telephone call but couldn't find a place to concentrate because everywhere I went there was background noise competing for my attention; I was on a job interview where I was being asked which holidays I like best and, "If you were a component of a salad, what would it be and why?"

Over in the world of (stream of) consciousness:

-- I didn't see Katie Couric's announcement on the Today Show this morning, but I heard the whole segment on the radio. I don't know if it was the broadcast quality or her just being nervous, but her breathing was so weird during the whole thing. She sounded like the contestants in those "Hey, amateurs with no experience! It's your chance to be our next morning DJ!" radio station competitions -- huge gulps of air between her sentences. It was really startling, because I've never heard Katie Couric have that problem.

-- I was so happy that Gilmore Girls was new last night, and I didn't even think it sucked. My expectations aren't particularly high these days, which I think is the key to enjoying the show more.

-- For my birthday (in September), the Smelmooo got us tickets to see David Sedaris this past Monday. I love, love, love hearing David Sedaris read his stuff, and I didn't stop laughing or at least smiling the entire time he was onstage. I wish I'd had a tape recorder or even a notebook so I could've written down my favorite parts, but all I remember was something about "the verbal equivalent of everyday china," which struck me as absolute brilliance. I just loved everything about him: that he showed up early and stayed late to sign books and chat with fans; that he read with pen in hand so he could make changes to works-in-progress; that when he'd made a typo on the draft he couldn't help letting a little "oops!" escape but then just kept right on going; that he's smart and hilarious but not stuck-up. I didn't love the ending of his story in this week's New Yorker, but I still want him to be my boyfriend.

-- After reading the Smelmooo's blog entry on Monday, I was desperate for a burger, so we went to dinner at a place in Princeton where I love the burgers, and the Smelmooo gave me some of his bacon to add to mine(it was my birthday celebration night, after all), and it just made me so happy to be enjoying a bad-for-me meal and having a relaxing night together. Life felt absolutely perfect.

-- We watched 24 when we got home, and I just refuse to believe that Logan's actually the mastermind behind this whole plot. I think the editors are trying to pull a fast one. I can't find a single person who agrees with me on this point, but I feel like I need to throw it out there on the infinitesimal chance that I'm right.

-- Countdown to my Reese's Peanut Butter Cup sundae: 10 days, 13 hours, 54 minutes.