I cut my workout short last night so Alpha could attend a Tupperware party. Don’t tell her, but I was running out of gas anyway. At the party, they discussed other parties the rest of them were hosting in the near future: cleaning accoutrements; jewelry.

“They have underwear parties now, too,” someone said.

They also have sex hardware parties, someone else said, and half a dozen 40-something women giggled. “Women my age are terrible,” Alpha said to me.

I was going to list other such parties that might be interesting, just not invented yet, but I have to go do something. Your assignment is to leave your ideas in the comments.

We can barely be bothered to remember what happened last week, or last month, much less last year. The French are really stuck on history. … Does it not occur to anyone that these are very old friends of ours, trying to tell us what they think they know about being hated by weak enemies in the Third World?

[On the off-chance that George Will reads my weblog (or anyone else who does not also read Uren.Dagen.Nachten. as well, which is where I picked this up) I leave you this link.]

Recurring dream landscapes I have known:

1. The green street: around the age of 9-12 or so, had recurring dreams of a suburban street bathed in a leached green light. Featured a number of spec homes, cheap middle-class housing development; in one of the houses something awful had apparently happened, because the dreams were always full of dread.

2. The cloverleaf: based on the Markham bridge in Portland, confusing and scary high-altitude mess of freeway-interchanges and bridges high over water. Dreams always scary.
3. Seattle/Tokyo: neighborhood featuring aspects of Tokyo (large city) and Seattle (included bridge and freeway like the part where the I-5 goes over by Lake Union/Lake Washington there, and the Aurora bridge) and aspects of the Latona neighborhood in Seattle, where my sister’s previous and present houses are (only in the dream) also a phone booth that always has the phone book I’m looking for, but the phone book always lacks the page I need and tricky, Escher-like sidewalks…
4. The peep show bordello: cement interior with slanting, un-level floors, red velvet curtains and large aquariums set into the walls which contain not fish swimming around and water but air and women plying their trade. Alas, last time I dreamed about it, it had gone out of business and was just an empty shell.
5. “Near where my parents live” sort of SW Washington State landscape, rolling hills, big trees, rural. Drive past the same houses and lakes in the dream every time. Last night, was looking for my brother’s junked cars with Jessica, D. and some other people. Looked and looked for my brother’s Lambourghini, but when we finally found it it was only a junked, gutted, stripped beat-up red Ferrari. It had no interior or engine, but wheels. So we pulled it out of the weeds, turned it right-side up, attached a tall mast and colorful spinnaker and sailed around the field with it. It was a lot of fun.

The US is abandoning plans to introduce democracy in Iraq after a war to overthrow Saddam Hussein, according to Kurdish leaders who recently met American officials.

[Via Joeri]

Mailman: [Out of view around corner inside office] Dude, he was just here Monday getting something.
Other Mailman: [mumble mumble]
Miguel: Hrm.
Other Mailman: [Returns to back door of post office, hands Miguel envelope] Here you are.
Miguel: [Takes REM tickets, thanks him effusively] Sorry I’ve been bugging you guys this week.
Other Mailman: No problem.

[Two minutes later at home]

Gamma: [Walking to car] J-Lo! J-Lo! I’m still Jenny from the block! Jennifer Lopez!
Beta: [Also walking to car] Heh.
Miguel: Gamma, I notice you’re walking with your legs crossed. This is slowing your progress significantly. Could it be that your shoes are on the wrong feet and you are compensating?
Beta: Heh.
Gamma: [Grin] Yes, wrong feet! J-Lo! Beta helped me put on my boots this morning! I’m still Jenny from the…
Miguel: No problem, we’ll fix it at the Kindergarten. Let’s go!

[Kids packed into car, seat belts fastened.]

Miguel: [Turns on radio, it's playing "Jenny from the Block"] It’s your lucky day, Gamma.
Gamma: [sings along, more or less]
Beta: Heh.

“This is,” he thought, “a perky little rig.” Step on the gas and zoom. Sunny day, traffic is light. Crap music on the radio but no big deal. To make it even better, the cute guard is on duty at the UN, she waves him past before he can fumble his ID this time.

Many empty spaces in the parking garage. Zip into a close one. Turn off lights. Set parking brake. Exit vehicle. Shut door. Assume jaunty pose and *doink* the remote-control key at car.

Instead of locking car, the trunk pops open. Go to trunk and root around inside for a minute, so that anyone watching might be tricked into thinking your man opened it on purpose.

Glance at remote-control key, surreptitiously, figure out which button actually locks car, and try again.