How secure is your tupperware?

Well, hello there. It's been awhile...how are those New Year's resolutions holding up?

Me, I didn't make any. I surely did not resolve to blog more often, so, you know...we're good there.

I did have a rush of inspiration the other night during which I thought I would make this blog into a "Thought of the Day" thing because it would possibly motivate me to post more often...because I have many thoughts in any given day and surely at least one of them would be worthy of sharing. Clearly I did not then run to my blog and blog...sigh.

I also considered just abandoning ship. Just never coming back to ever blog in 2012. But that would be a little sad I think. I mean, even if I've lost all but three followers on this thing, it still means something to me.

Yeah, so here I am rambling. I'd like to promise you a thought every day. I'd like to.

Instead, what I can deliver to you today is this:

I had a dream maybe a week ago that's really stuck with me because it seems like such a clear message of some sort. I was in a hurry and walking through all different sorts of scenarios...some work-related, some social, but the whole time I was carrying this tupperware container and the lid was too small. I kept looking at it and trying to figure out how to make the lid fit, but I couldn't, and so I had to keep balancing this container (of soup?) and trying not to spill it.

The dream ended with me crouched on a skateboard, riding down a tall a parking ramp at high speeds, still holding the tupperware. Every surface had a Facebook status on it, as if you could now post status updates on every physical surface in the world somehow. I was going really, really fast on that skateboard and then I crashed. And I woke up.

So, you know...may your lids all fit your containers, or something.

The Stuff that Dreams are Made of

Lots of excitement these days. Travel excitement. Potential job excitement (read: excitement about potential job). And now Olympics excitement!

I guess it took 32 years, but I'm totally hooked on the Olympics. I mean, I've always been mildly interested in the highlights, but now I could seriously sit and watch (almost) every event (sorry, hockey). The Visa commercials alone bring me to tears.

And as we sit on the couch eating chips with nacho cheese dip, I tell my kids that with a lot of practice and dedication, they, too, could be the best in the world at something. Although I secretly hope its not ski jumping, or luge, or...really anything involving plummeting downward at high speeds. Maybe they will be the best at chess. Yes, chess is a noble and un-dangerous pursuit.

Anyway, I believe it took all of 2 hours of watching the Olympics before we began plotting a family trip to the 2012 summer games in London. Because, really, how awesome would that be? Will it happen? Hard to say for sure, as we're still 2.5 years out, but it's a definite maybe. These are the types of experiences that can shape a young mind.

Oh, and since, in a loose sort of way, we're talking about making dreams come true, I want to mention a dream that my husband has and one which all of you can help make come true:

The man wants to open an improv theater here in Minneapolis. It's his dream. His quest. For all I know, it might even be what he was meant to do. He's got the heart, the passion, the ideas, the partners, and even the business plan. What he does NOT have is the physical space. He needs a building. And since they don't give buildings away for free, sadly, he needs money to make it happen.

So just in case you feel like supporting an artist in realizing his dream, check out the HUGE Theater website and think about giving $5, $10, or even that spare $10,000 dollars you've got lying around. It's tax deductible! And good for your soul, I'm quite sure.

(And even though this isn't about me, those of you who have a spouse with a dream they must achieve before it swallows them, can surely understand how making this happen will be good for my soul, as well.) Thanks.

Only in My Dreams

Last night I dreamt that I blogged. And not that I wrote some amazing blog post that changed the world or got me a book deal or anything, just that I posted a link in my blog to some other story that I read. What does that even mean? 

Maybe my subconscious wants me to blog...perhaps my subconscious should also supply me with something blog about then. 

The truth is that I've got things I could blog about, but they all seem like downers given that we're 2 days from Christmas, so I shall save them for when we're all going through the post-Christmas slump. 

In the meantime, I will keep an eye out for an amazing story to post to my blog, just in case my dream was actually telling the future. (Wow, that would be an incredibly lame use for a hidden fortune-telling skill.)

Windows of the Soul

I awoke at 5 this morning to a little face peering at me from the side of my bed. It was pitch black, but I could tell it was Owen. 

He scrambled up into bed with me (there's lots of room with my husband out of town), put is head on my chest and said, "I just love you," which is sweet, but is also what he usually says when he doesn't really have any reason for being out of bed. 

Turns out this time he did have a reason. He said he'd had a bad dream. I asked if he wanted to tell me about it. He didn't. Instead he curled up next to me and tried to go back to sleep. But a minute later, he changed his mind. 

"I guess I will tell you," he began. He proceeded to tell me that he dreamt he was on my mom's roof and he couldn't get down. He said I was down on the ground and he asked me how to get down, but he kept going the wrong way. 

He was exceptionally articulate (especially for the middle of the night) and got upset just telling me about it. 

I'd like to think that it isn't a metaphor...that it means nothing. But I immediately felt like he was baring a piece of his soul. That he feels afraid. That he feels separated. That he tries to do what we tell him, but he somehow gets it wrong. That he's telling me -- however subconsciously -- that he needs a ladder. 

Am I reading too much into it? Maybe, but that brain of his works in mysterious ways. If he is trying to tell me something, the least I can do is listen. 

Sweet Dreams

You know what it's like when you tear a recipe out of a magazine and then you try to make it yourself and it turns out exactly like it looked in the magazine? Right, me either. Except now I do(!) because yesterday I made this Upside-Down Sunshine Cake and, well, just LOOK! It was a thing of beauty. 

I realize this is a far cry from my dream of being a world-class pastry chef (you know, my dream that is not based on any innate ability and is therefore not actually being pursued), but I'm still pretty proud of myself. And it tastes good, too. (Don't we all need a little sunshine cake in our lives?)

Speaking of dreams, last night I dreamt that Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie were giving me a ride somewhere. You know, because we all happened to be in the same place and they just thought it'd be nice to give me a lift. And I was sitting in the passenger seat of their black SUV (Brad was driving, of course) and I was turned around talking to "Angie" (whom, I should note, I have loved since "Hackers") about how I have twins and she was asking me all sorts of questions about what she should expect. Brad didn't want to divulge a lot of details about their plans (for fear, no doubt that I would blog about them), but Angie was relating to me as a mom and thought he was being silly...

I, of course, think this must mean that Angelina and I are meant to be BFFs...however, I'm open to your interpretations.