Monday, August 31, 2009

Razzle dazzle.

Were you aware of this? Seriously, I read about this yesterday, and it blew my mind. (And I'm not one of those History Channel types who enjoys documentaries about things made of steel and smells like Grandpa.)

Dazzle ships haunted me; I even dreamt about them last night. (Also: why is spell-check getting in my face about this? I have always said "dreamt," and I am rarely wrong.)

Speaking of dreams, Middy, I've been meaning to tell you about a recurring one that's been visiting me for about the last year or so. It's really a nightmare, although there is something satisfying about it. Here's what happens: I am in a professional or public setting of some sort (e.g., office, subway, crowd). Someone irks me. I audibly refer to this (usually female) person, in his or (usually) her presence, as the c-word. (This differs from my real-life experience, where I usually say this word under my breath.) I wake up relieved to learn, of course, that I haven't in fact stepped in a steaming serving of Great Dane-sized professional cacky, or that some angry young lady hasn't thrown me onto the tracks.

P.S. I debated whether to spell that one out or not.

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