Do You Remember?

Do you remember what show this phrase is from and who used to say it?

Bee-dee, bee-dee, bee-dee...

For some strange reason Petey said "bee-dee" while we were talking today. We were both immediately reminded of a tv show we watched when we were younger, much younger.

The Ones You Love

OK, so I have the title, but what about the rest.

This is just going to be a rambling post. It feels like I haven't posted in a couple of days. I guess I'm getting used to writing. It's become something that I miss like a loved one far away. Perhaps you don't think of them every second, but when your world gets quiet they fill your thoughts.

I had some strange dreams over Shabbos. And I mean STRANGE! My dreams are usually very vivid and that includes this one. I can even remember the street signs and the names of the people I met. It started with someone moving in next door to my mom's house. A couple around my age, with no kids, and a spotted mutt.

They were celebrating their anniversary with a good friend (guy), and their parents. Somehow I got pulled into it and we were watching old movies. The friend and I were hitting it off because I was impressed with the fact he knew the names of the actors and had seen other movies starring them. Actually, the real reason why I was impressed was that the movies were romantic ones, and he just didn't strike me as the type of guy who would watch them let alone remember them.

I felt pulled towards him and shy and embarrassed at the same time which, of course, caused me to trip over my own feet while helping carry the dessert plates to the kitchen. I could feel my face turn warm, and can feel it right now even though it was only a dream.

You can tell that dream was definitely realistic. Sooo something that I would do. Except in real life the plates would have crashed to the floor breaking into pieces.

When I left the house I couldn't remember his name, and I remember getting all flustered again and hoping he didn't notice. Of course, that wasn't the case. He winked like he knew what I was feeling which ended up with me almost falling down the stairs outside.

My dream somehow shifted to ex-boyfriends. (Yes, I have a lot of them) Moshe was the one who had the starring role. In the dream he wanted to marry me. I thought it was kind of funny in my dream because we cared about each other very much in real life, but I don't think he ever really felt that way about me. Just to let you know, I sometimes recognize the fact that I'm dreaming or that my dreams incorporate so much of real life that during them I'm trying to figure out when things actually took place, or feelings changed.

Back to Moshe... He looked like Moshe, blonde hair, blue eyes, Cubs baseball cap, white T-shirt, blue jeans and several inches taller than I was. He spotted me from his apartment where he was having a party and his buddies started yelling at me to stop. They were shouting that Moshe had something important to ask me. I remember being very surprised because it was during a Cub's game, and nothing came between Mosh and his Cubs, but there he was running across the lawn to me. I started running away once I realized what it was he was going to ask me.

I've always loved Moshe. No! Not like that. Even though, we did fool around a bit. I met Moshe my first year in seminary and we both went back second year. You might think that I was rebellious and didn't respect my teachers and rebbeim, but that wasn't the case, even though he did sleep over in our apartment one night. That was a fun night. And no, I wasn't thrown out, even though I walked into sem the next day sporting a hickey in plain sight.

OK, back to the crazy dream. Before Mosh had a chance to ask me the dream slipped into a different scene. It was Pesach and my family was having a seder with another ex-boyfriend's family. They've never really met, and I remember being surprised that we were all together. The ex wasn't there though. At some point his parents made a disparaging comment about me, and my mother took umbrage. (No, I don't use the word umbrage in my regular speech, but it fits here and it's fun to do.) A big fight ensued and I slipped out the door not wanting to get involved.

That's when Mark, Izzy, and some other exes showed up, and I got lost trying to get to some other friends. I was wearing pink yummy fleece pajamas, my winter coat, my big clodhopper snow boots and my usual baseball cap, Yankees, of course.

The rest of this dream will have to wait...

And I think that I'll also write the post that should go with the above title.

My Friend, Petey

I’m so silly, and I’m so lucky. I’m lucky that I have a good friend. Let’s call him Petey. He makes me laugh and always has, even though his jokes are so, so, so very horrible. He listens. And not only that he has the answers to my questions. That is a major feat!!!

Petey explains and reminds me of things that I should be able to know and remember by myself. My emotions sometimes get in the way. The funny thing is that sometimes we are both talking about someone or something completely different than what the other one thinks and yet his advice still seems to apply. It's obvious that we're both strange. Yes, Petey, you're strange, but you knew that already.

He helps me keep my head on straight, and not get into too much trouble. I get lectures sometimes (alright, about once a week) on different matters, and it doesn’t bother me in the least. It means he cares, and I appreciate it.

He gets me to laugh while I’m in the middle of crying. OK, OK, it’s not that difficult to do. And yes, I already know I’m weird. Just about everyone who's ever read my blog can attest to that.

I guess the real reason for this post is so that I can say, "Thank you, Petey. And I'll bet you a nickel you never figure out why I called you that."

btw- Your offer to call blew me away.

Ow! I Did It Again

Yup, I did it again... self-inflicted.

Late last night I was having a conversation with a good bud of mine in Israel. I was in bed while I was talking because it was so late, around 2 a.m. He wanted some help with something so I was on my laptop (to you smart asses out there, not actually sitting on it) and I was trying to get comfortable.

Maybe it happened because I was tired, maybe because the conversation had most of my attention, maybe because I was trying to find something on my computer at the same time, or just maybe it was because I'm very talented at inflicting different wounds on myself. I scooted my tush to lean back in bed and BANG! I conked the back of my head on the wall behind me.

Yes, I knew there was a wall behind me. It's what I lean my pillows up against when I'm writing, reading or working. No, the wall has not moved any closer to my bed recently, and no, I had not been drinking.

I've got a nicely sized raised bump on my head. When I do something, I make sure to do it right. But at least it can't be seen like some of my other mishaps here and here and yes, here. And I finally understand the saying "seeing stars". The pain took a minute to register and then WHOMP! It hit me like a ton of bricks, or a cement wall, take your pick.

Hand me another bag of ice and stop laughing!! OK OK, how can I ask you to stop when it still makes me giggle, hee hee. I hope the swelling will go down enough so that I can put on one of my numerous baseball hats when I go to pick DB up from school.

Selamat Datang

Yahoo! thinks that I now speak Behasa Melayu, Malay, Behasa Malaysia or aka the Malaysian Language. Yesterday I opened my Yahoo! account and up popped "Selamat Datang, CR."

When I told my friend on the phone that I was talking to, we tried guessing which language it was before I looked it up. My guess at some sort of Polynesian was the closest.

Of course, that still doesn't explain why Yahoo! thinks that I understand the language.

Who Are You?

About three months ago someone wanted to add me to their contacts on Yahoo! Messenger. I had no idea who she/he was so I refused. Then about two months ago they tried to add me again... still no idea who this person was. After the third time they contacted me I responded to them.

This morning, about two weeks later, "she" initiated contact with "toess" and I'm just about positive that I don't know anyone who would start a conversation with me like that.

My question of "who are you?" was answered with, "you were added when we talked... forgot about it... took you long enough to ask."

Now I don't remember chatting with someone about toes or even feet so I asked again, "Who are you?" and got, "sweettoes how many more times?" I burst out laughing and looked at my feet; manicured toes painted big apple red, smooth heels, and soft soles. Not bad, but there's no way I would forget someone calling me sweettoes, maybe she was referring to her own.

"Who are you? Maybe you think I'm someone else?" I asked. She continued, "no, i do not your 56 yrs old and not called john" This was definitely starting to get interesting. What immediately popped to mind is "why isn't he called john?" Maybe she's a hooker and trying to refresh his memory.

At this point I really wanted to know what was going on and who this person was. "Who are you?"

"why?"

"I think you have me confused with someone else."

"ok then i delete you and apologise"

There haven't been any more messages, but I wonder whatever happened with Sweettoes and Not John.

Really?

I haven't thought of myself as factious, but just tonight a friend told me that I'm contrary, defiant, like to question authority, and rebellious. I just laughed and told him that it's not surprising he said that considering who he is. Then I laughed some more just to irritate him.

Remember Me?

Yeah, yeah. I know I haven't posted in awhile. Haven't wanted to, been very busy, and couldn't think of what to write. Of course, that hasn't changed much right now, but fingers have been itching... so here I am.

Actually, I'm in the middle of two, no, three posts. But I think I'm just going to ramble for a bit, and let you know what I've been doing lately. Drum roll please.... I lost 9 pounds. YAY!!! Only 20 more to go. I am fitting into some more of my clothes, and will be jumping onto the treadmill after I finish writing this. It's not so much the weight as it is the way I feel in my skin, and how fit I am.

I haven't been so interested in dating lately, but that doesn't mean that my sex drive has dissipated in any way. C'mon, it's me we're talking about here. There's a guy or two out there, but that doesn't necessarily mean marriage. While we're on the topic, my rug burn has healed, and is now only a pinkish red mark going down my forehead. Any advice out there for how to get that to go away. It looks like I was burned... ok, ok I was burned, but how do I get it to look like the rest of my skin.

Then there's the issue of my broken glasses. Don't even ask how that happened, but yes, it's somwhere along those lines that you're thinking.



I've been having mega weird and vivid dreams lately. One of them had a 6'5" guy help me out. Yes, I know his height. Don't ask me why, but I knew it in my dream. He was sweet and strong... just the way I like them.

I did some reading over Shabbos, but what's new about that? I only read two books though. Both of them were by Dean Koontz. I like the ones where he has a character in the book say things that are so out of place that it makes me laugh out loud. I know I've written about his books before, but they really resonate with me. Horrible, and boy, do I mean horrible things happen to the people in his books, but they don't give up hope that tomorrow will be better.

OY!!!! I know I sound like an innocent pollyanna, but I'd much rather that than a bitter cynic. Now, I have a picture in my head of Pollyanna as a bitter cynic and it's making me laugh. Don't even... you guys already know I'm weird. I've never tried to hide that fact from you.

I now own a blackberry, and have been very busy with it. I've discovered how to bypass certain things and am now able to im from it. Not only that, I didn't break it or mess up it's operating system when I did it. I think it may even like me, but I'm trying not to jinx myself. The best thing about it was the fact that it was free. Y'all know how things are tight for me.

Well, I had actually come to the end of my 2 year contract, and I knew that I needed to get a new phone because I had dropped my old one quite a few times (understatement) and it was dying. The problem is that I couldn't get a phone with a camera. The ex (so nice to write ex instead of stbx) is still trying to control me, and he has enough money to keep me in court for quite a long time. His attorney must love having him for a client.

In case you didn't know, you aren't allowed to bring any kind of camera into the court house (any court house) let alone the court room. So I didn't have much choice when it came time to picking out a new phone. That's when the salesguy suggested a blackberry, and I've been hooked ever since.

That's about it for now, I've got to go to the car and take out a mattress. A friend of mine was moving and asked if I could use one. DB had just started mentioning that his bed wasn't so comfortable so now he'll be a happy camper.

btw-squeaky isn't going to be squeaky for much longer. I'm going to have a new tensioner and belt put on her this week so you won't be able to hear us coming from miles away.