cool word i learned today: defenestration. should be useful in daily conversation. yep.

Hey Jess, how was the defenestration yesterday?

Dude, go defenestrate yourself!

The President denied that the defenestration against his War on Terror was attended by more than a few crazy marginalias. He then appointed his fifth grade best friend, Tucker H. Stout, who is said to be very skilled at pulling lint out of disfunctional hottubs, to the position of Supreme Chancellor of Democratic Defenestration, sneaking the appointment in while Congress is on recess.

also, over the phone the other day i told a friend that i was going to be a godmother. she sounded very happy for me, said congratulations, that's wonderful. then a few minutes later she asked, "so what breed is it?"

and I went through a very long internal sifting to try to figure out what she meant. "um, she's a girl, if that's what you mean?" to which she replied, "oh great, but what type?"

i started laughing and asked her what she had heard me say originally, which turned out to be "dog mother." heh.

i'm sickie in bed and missed my first and hopefully only class for the semester. don't like being sickie in bed. but i doused myself with at least a liter of orange juice plus i made myself some weird chicken-spinach-garlic pasta for to eat tomorrow. it might be nice to have food around during the day instead of fasting and then gorging in the evenings.

yesterday when i was just starting to get sickie, i came home both starving (no food), feeling exhausted (4 hours sleep the night before), fretful (a story to write i thought), odd (without thinking about my empty stomach, i had munched a little zinc tablet my advisor had given me), and a little feverish (sickie starting). so after i stuffed myself with macaroni and cheese, i fell into bed for a strictly- limited-to-an-hour nap. and it turned out to be the most intense, vibrant dream i've had since Alaska. in my hour-long dream, i was a cowboy, the sky low and nearly green, and i could taste the dust and grit and the chewed up soil from the back of the horses feet. i was wearing flannel and two pairs of socks and jeans and boots and spurs, and i was hustling to get my boots on so i could grab the bridle, rope, gloves. the sky started to spit and the horses kept running but it seemed in pleasure because they could. a little boy, also in boots etc was watching me as i ran around preparing to bring the cattle in. when i sat down for a second, he wrapped one arm around me and one arm around his white lab and started to sing heavy metal... horses whirled. the smell of rain hitting a dirt so empty it hissed and turned sweet.

okay, i'm off to bed to stop being sickie and get up healed knock on wood in the morning.