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Drat! Written again!


It happens. I admit. Sometimes, well, frequently, I just want a Coldstone Creamery Like-it sized cup of ice cream. I'm currently a fan of strawberry ice cream with crushed graham crackers mixed in. When the graham crackers are still crunchy (you know, like cereal is supposed to be!), oh, my, heaven in a bowl.

Though, B was confused why I had strawberry ice cream instead of chocolate at Chris' birthday party. Honestly, he acted as if the sun had gone out, the world tilted its axis 90° and I had given birth to a rhinoceros, all in one moment.

Apparently, my passion for chocolate is supposed to be unmovable.


So, tonight, as last night, I convinced the man I was with that he, too, wanted Coldstone Creamery ice cream, and off we went. Tonight, Kris managed to down the calories.

On the way back, I started complaining about the show Medium. If you don't watch it, the basic premis is, a woman often dreams about events (nearly always tragic and violent ones) that happened, are happening, or will happen. There are often no time references in the dreams. With these viewings of violent acts, she's able to help the police track down the person responsible for the crime she dreamt about, and bring said person to justice.

That's the premise.

It's a show on my Tivo rotation at the moment. Much of the acting, dialogue and scenarios in the parts of the show that show the main character's home life are quite realistic, though why I find that part interesting, I have no idea. You'd think life would be plenty that I wouldn't need to watch it on television.

So, I was ranting to Kris about how, after 20, 30 years of dreaming these dreams, and pretty much not one of them is actually what she initially thinks the dream is about, maybe she's stop jumping to conclusions when she first dreams a dream, and wait until the second or third nights before actually saying something about them (most of the dreams continue over several nights until the crime is complete or solved, at least, according to the show's writers).

Yeah, she never gets the crime or criminal right on the first go. So, stop jumping to conclusions before heading off to the cops to get the only one who listens to her off on a wild goose chase.

Kris patiently listened to me rant. "Well," he started once I had actually stopped, "maybe you don't see all of the easy ones. I mean, how interesting would those be? You see the complicated ones that have twisted and aren't what they seem."

I was quiet, thinking about what he said. So quiet that he had to ask, "Did I say something wrong?"

"Oh no," I answered, "so, when I was studying for the GRE, I knew my vocabulary was going to be a problem, so I bought a book to help me study ..."

Oh crap.

I just realized, I already told this story. I guess Kris doesn't actually read this site, as his reaction when I was done telling it?

"What a jerk. I would have thrown you a bone."

"Yeah, and that's why I'm married to you, and not him."