Today I bought a tea kettle, a bright shiny silver thing that would look good on the Tinman. I really enjoy "tea time," though probably not as the English would do it. I got some very good Swedish cheese that takes almost like caramel, some great English crackers (these thick wheaty things) and thin, crisp Swedish ginger cookies. Now that we have a proper kettle again, I can finally enjoy my tea.

I ate at Augie's dinner and had some of the greasiest eggs I've ever eaten. They fry everything in butter, which is surprisingly nauseating. Augie's was packed today with Sunday people, that is people going to breakfast after Sunday services. I'm mildly surprised by people who still get dressed up and go to a church. I saw this little boy, not more than 7, with a suitcoat and tie. This is a usual Sunday occurance for him, to put on a coat and tie and sit through an hour or more of a very adult activity. This seems so foreign to me now, even though I had done much of the same for the first 14 or 15 years of my life.

Why do people have "Sunday best" anyway? Does God really care what anyone wears to services? Does God really care if we worship it at all? I don't think so. I think religion is for people, to comfort and guide them in their lives, not for God. That doesn't mean religion is bad necessarily, just that it is what it is.

I'm putting off cleaning up around here, though this place really needs it. The dust bunnies have mated with the dog's shed fur and have made giant dog-dustbunny hybrids that defy the vaccuum cleaner. I can write my name in the dust on the mantle. And did I mention that our Christmas/Hanukkah decorations are still out? I can't find a box large enough around here to fit them all.

Right now, Andy is writing a bid on a condominium. This is something I've been avoiding thinking about. Partly, I'm worried about money. Mostly, I just don't want to get my hopes up about getting it. I'm worried about how our lives will change if or when he does buy a condo, whether it is this one or a different place. I really like the idea of having a "house of our own," but I worry that the cost (in money and emotions) will be too high.

This morning, while walking the dog, I caught a blur of white out of the corner of my eye. It was a jogger in a pale gray sweatsuit with the hood pulled up over his head. He was running nearly silently, his motion almost floating like a ghost.

Before Surly woke me, I was dreaming about being at a resort. I don't remember the details of it, except that my entire gaming group (we play D&D, a role-playing game) was there. I got the impression that we were playing Rob's game.

There were other people at the resort, but I have only impressions of them: some wealthy, some fashionable, some older. An older woman, who reminded me of the actress Vanessa Redgrave, was appalled by my clothes (as were the other guests, actually). I suddenly realized I was wearing a hideous outfit: a bright blue pajama top and a pair of bright yellow boxer shorts with some kind of print on them. I think it was either palm trees or sailboats. Being too large and baggy, neither article actually fit me properly. I was a bit embarrassed, but I refused to change my clothing, because I felt that would somehow "break character" for me in the game.

Since I refused to change, the lady offered her help with the outfit. There was something very motherly about the way she tried to tuck in the shirt or belt the boxers. She knew there was nothing she could do with these clothes to make them better for me, but she fussed with them anyway.

Kids in a Toy Store

Last night I dreamt that I was shopping for toys. I had one of those handbaskets like you see in the grocery store and walked around a nearly empty store. I hated the store. It didn't have any good toys, or rather any toys that I wanted, and yet I wanted to buy something. I found a small box of Legos, from the Star Wars set, that made an x-wing fighter, so I placed that into the basket. I found some other odd toy to buy. Then I came across something that was anomally for this place: a strange flute or recorder, hand-carved from what looked like twisted, knotty wood or maybe some kind of gourd. I examined that carefully, fascinated by its twists and bulbs. It, too, went into my basket.

The store was almost closed, so I brought my toys to the sole cashier still working. Ahead of me was another customer, a vague woman shape, who was making some kind of complicated purchase. I tried to follow as she changed her mind, rejecting one piece of merchandise for another.

While I waited, the manager (or maybe owner) of the store stood behind me and smirked. She was an ugly, fat woman with long blonde hair tied back in a ponytail. I think she was saying mean things because I was there so late, after store hours.

Finally, I turned to her and said, "I don't like you. I don't like your store. I'm never coming here again."

This seemed to shut her up.

Finally, the cashier was checking my purchases. He was a skinny teenage boy with acne, and I think he was a little slow. He was not only not fast, but I could see him having trouble with the math and buttons on the cash register. He realized that the box of Legos had been opened, so he stopped to count a myriad of tiny pieces as if to make sure none were lost. Then he wrapped carefully each toy in tissue paper and handed me the shopping bag. It wasn't until I had gotten outside that I realized he had charged me for one of the previous customer's rejected toys. Sure enough, inside my bag were four carefully wrapped parcels.

Outside, my friend Terry and his girlfriend Lisa were waiting. Lisa was quiet and patient, but Terry was leaning on an empty shopping cart and looked furious. For a moment, I was worried that he was mad at me for making him wait, but then it occurred to me that he didn't like the store either. To be sure, I asked him what was wrong. His answer was vague and unreassuring.

I think Lisa and Terry dropped me off at Shane's apartment, though the dream glossed that part over. Shane is friend I had in high school, but we grew apart and haven't seen each other in at least seven years. I was alone in this generic dream apartment, waiting for him to come home. His computer was on; I could see that Shane was playing in an on-line turn-based game that had crude graphics and cost money for each turn. He also had a banking program that was similar to an ATM and allowed me to access his account. I decided to buy something with his money and pay him back later for it.

Shane came back, and a few minutes later his live-in girlfriend came home as well. She was a generic, blonde dream person with no memorable features, but I was surprised when he spoke to her in fluent Spanish (as far as I know, Shane has never even taken a Spanish class).

Shane told us to wait a moment while he finished a turn on his game. He checked his back account and realized that he has significantly less funds than he thought and was going to bounce a few checks. I was mortified. Without telling him why, I asked to use the software. I hoped to replace the money from his account without telling him what I did. But the software was clunky and too complicated; I kept making stupid mistakes and having to start over.

The dog woke me soon after that.