Happy Samhain to all fellow Pagan bloggers…and Happy Halloweenie to everyone else.

I’m wearing a sweat shirt,sweatpants and sneakers today.This is my costume. This is what I notice the other Moms wear when they drop off and pick up from school so I thought I’d be one of those Other Moms today.

I do not own a pair of sneakers and had to borrow some from one of the twins. How sad is it that I can wear my daughter’s shoes?

Dylan and a friend of his from the Cross Country team went as Gay Cowboys. I guess they plan on walking around all day saying,”Why cain’t aye kwit ewe?” or something. Or maybe more? I don’t know.Hey,whatever it takes to get into character,I guess.

I remember the days when i used to go all out for Halloween/Samhain and I could barely get my act together to carve pumpkins this year. I used to spent loads of time designing and carving some hellacious jack-o-lanterns but I’m just not that energetic these days. The most creative one we have is the one Dylan did with a Smashing Pumpkins theme.

Pictures to come when I feel like uploading from the camera ….

Mondays a Bitch
Very Scary
1. Do you have any recurring nightmares?
I used to have a recurring nightmare of being chased in the woods and down a stream. It was very The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon ,except with much more running (I had the dream the first time long before reading that book though). I haven’t had it in awhile,though. One day I started writing an erotic short story in which a woman and her husband kind of do this role playing bit where she’s the prey and he’s the hunter and he chases her thru the woods. I haven’t had the dream since then. Nothing like sex to chase scary stuff away.

I never did finish that story.I should do that one of these days.

2. When was the last time you screamed in horror?
Last night when the hubby tried to bite my foot. I kicked him in the face and broke his glasses.Totally on accident,I swear …but geez!

3. What was the most bizarre thing you ever got while trick-or-treating?
A Bible. Well, ok…it wasn’t a whole Bible…just a pamphlet from the Baptist Church. This lady who lived near me when i was a kid, would tell all the trick-or-treaters they were going to hell and should go to Church.

Yeah,she was popular *snorts*

4. What do you consider to be the most over-used costume?
I’m kinda sick of the stupid Scream masks.

5. What costume could someone wear that would be a turn-on for you?
A vampire.Or a pirate. A Vampire Pirate?

Since my step-son moved in with us in July, I completely expect to see strange websites in my browser…but usually, it’s obvious that they’re ones he has been at because a) they’re in Spanish or b) they’re websites I’d never go to in a zillion years

(Seriously, I didn’t even know who “Korean Pop Sensation Rain” even was until my step-son moved in with us and I refuse to admit it’s because I’m out of the loop.I credit my good taste in music for the exclusion from my knowledge base)

So,a week ago or so,I notice A LOT of strange things in my browser, mostly blogspot blogs and Google search pages for random things. Everyone who uses my computer says they aren’t pages they’ve gone to and really, they don’t even seem to be things anyone would have gone to.

But even weirder is the fact that I’ll be sitting here at my desk and the browser will randomly cycle through all the things in the browser.

Hmm,ok then. Pretty strange.

If any of the blogs have hit counters on them, they probably think someone in Upstate NY is a stalking them big time.I swear, I’m not that into anyone online….my computer is just totally possessed.

Oh…and last week I noticed that when I go to You Tube, it says “Hello,*PersonWhoIsNotMe*” (meaning, someone else’s account…not the actually word “Personwhoisnotmne.Just for clarification). I am clearly logged into someone else’s You Tube account…..and no one in my household knows who this person is either.

I have no idea what’s up with all of that but whatever. I just figure I’m being haunted or something.

At each end of my town, there should be a sign. It should have my picture on it and say,”If you are lost, do not ask this woman for directions.”

I am terrible at giving directions. A few weeks ago, a couple stopped me and asked how to get to the Village Greenhouse and I gave them directions that went like: “Go straight.No,wait…don’t go straight.Turn left.No,not left…RIGHT!. And then drive until you come to such and such a Rd and DON’T turn there. Turn into the next driveway.Well, wait…not the very next driveway…but the next one after that.On the left.Wait, no..I mean right”.

I went home and hours later wondered if those poor people were still driving around lost.

Probably those poor people are STILL driving around wondering where the hell they are,cursing themselves for asking a diminutive red head with no sense of directions-given whatsoever.

This evening I was raiding a Free Box (I scored some gorgeous table linens, small canning jars and a silver bell), when a car pulls up. A man steps out of the car,looking all Amish. It was more likely he was Mennonite since in our area,the Mennonites drive cars occasionally and have things that the Amish aren’t supposed to have like electrical appliances and such.

But I digress (as usual). The point is,he looked like a typical Amish man, with the beard,hat,white shirt,suspenders…yadayada.

He says,”Excuse me,Miss…..can you tell me how to get to the American Legion?”

I chased the “WTF?” out of my head (because why does an Amish man..er…Mennonite…want to go hang out with sorry-ass drunks?) and said,”Yes,I can!”

Afterall, it’s next door practically to the Village Greenhouse and I did splendidly with those directions.

In actuality, I did not botch the directions this time but I think I did confuse him at points along the way. He thanked me and shook my hand .As he was leaving,I was a little baffled to see that he was staring at my chest. Blatantly,staring at my chest.

He says,”You have a lovely evening,Blondie.”

I look down at my shirt….which has a silk screened image of Blondie…as in, Debbie Harry…with the word “Blondie” emblazoned across it in silvery sequins,across my boobs.

I just smiled and said,”Thank you and you too,sir”

I suppose I could have gone into some long explanation about who Blondie is . At least it would have given him something to think about while he was driving around hopelessly lost.

On the coattails of my dream the other night, I went searching for audio of Neil Gaiman. Thankfully, I didn’t have far to look because I have a tendency to get lost on the internet while looking for things. One minute I’m searching for something as simple as a recipe for Mango Salsa and before I know it, I’m at a Knit or Go Home: Kendra’s Yarn Tales.

I have difficulty staying on track sometimes. It’s the ADD working against me.

But anywhore..
At Neilgaiman.com, there is indeed audio clips and after listening to some, I have decided that what I would like for my birthday is for Neil Gaiman to read me a bedtime story.

I don’t ask for much,do I?

Also, after divulging to Dylan the dream I had the other night, he confirmed…”Yes,Mom….it would have been very wrong to not tell me that Robert Plant was in our house.I would have never,ever forgiven you”. Duly noted. If ever Robert Plant comes over for pie (uninvited), I shall pull myself away from Neil Gaiman and not allow my oldest son to sleep through it.

I had positively the most bizarre dream last night.

Neil Gaiman was reading out loud to me in bed. I have no idea what Neil Gaiman’s voice really sounds like but in the dream, it was very soothing and he had this delicious English accent. I was drifting off to sleep and was SO relaxed….

Until Robert Plant showed up in my kitchen and was eating pie. I was pissed and just remember thinking,”Damn…who the hell does Robert Plant think he is? How rude!”…and at the same time, I kept thinking “I should get out of bed and tell Dylan that Robert Plant is in our kitchen eating pie because if I don’t tell him it will turn into this whole big thing and for the rest of my life all I will hear from Dylan is ‘Oh my god,Mom….I can’t believe Robert Plant was in our house and you never told me’”….but I was just SO into having Neil Gaiman read to me that I couldn’t get up to a)tell Dylan and b) yell at Robert Plant what an ass he was for eating pie.

I mean,really…what sort of person just walks into someone’s house and helps themselves to pie?
(Besides my mother,that is)

The basis for this dream,in part was listening to the new Robert Plant/Allison Krause album at dinner last night.The rest of it is totally up for interpretation.

3 Reasons I Don’t Blog As Much Anymore

1. I had a very creepy stalker. I felt a little less secure about sharing anything about my life after that.

2. Everyone and their brother and best friend (from that strange world known as Real Life) knows about my blog. My son…his friends…the random guy coming out of the coffee shop one day that said “Hey,I read your blog!”. The idea that people I actually know reading about how I’m going to have a brain aneurysm if forced to have Quiet Sex …not to mention my various political,religious and social rants….it’s a bit…weird.

3. I don’t seem to have the time.

However…
I really miss it. So, if the creepy stalker types can leave me alone and Real Life people can ignore the bits that there’s no way I’d tell them in an normal face-to-face conversation, I am sure I will be able to find time to blog once more.