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I was over at one of my favorite bloggy friends homesites today checking up on what she was thinking about things and she wrote a bit about cosmetic surgery and a better sex life. Okay, I wanted to comment…but I totally didn’t want to take center stage with it. Instead, I left some smart ass tongue-in-cheek comment that, hopefully, made people think but didn’t take over the conversation. My response as posted was:
Geez,
All those 80-year-old people in the retirement homes who are getting married these days are sunk without plastic surgery. How can they possibly have a fulfilling, rewarding sex life if they simply just don’t look the part of our plastic, superficial, Hollywood driven, hedonistic, entertainment oriented culture? Sucks to be them I guess!
I was responding more to the other commenters than to BigLittleWolf’s post. My friend, BigLittleWolf, has some great things to say…and she’s way more diplomatic than I am. She said some really important things here and posed some great questions…in a far more diplomatic way that I would have. I so wanted to call bullshit on some of the people leaving comments. You’ll just have to go there and read her post and make your own decision. Her post clearly touched a few nerves with me because here I am, posting a response.
First off the issue of visual stimulation being a male phenomenon was presented. I wanted to call bullshit on that because nothing could be further from the truth. I can’t tell you the number of times my panties have gotten wet because the fireman on duty down at Fire Station #4 a block away decided to flex his muscle during a presentation to the school children. Men don’t have a corner on the visual stimulation market. They just have better marketing and a bigger market share at this time. Women get turned on my a guy’s good looks too. If you want me to do the research I can, but, seriously, you can do your own and come to the same conclusions.
Second, the reason women don’t have the reputation for getting turned on by the visual in quite the same way that men do is because it simply takes a bit more for us to jizz in our pants than a pretty smile, some big biceps and a bulging set of boxer briefs. We are, after all, the ones being penetrated and encroached upon. A deposit is often left and sometimes that deposit develops into an account that requires regular deposits and close supervision until it matures. If Mr. Bulging Boxer Brief decides to take his leave of what is now not just me but us, then who’s going to be left taking the responsibility for this new account? She is. It behooves us to be extremely picky about those we allow to make deposits in our bank. Looks simply can’t be the be all end all in relationship…for a woman. We need more than just a nice “vision” to make sex the best it can be. (Note: how many men are getting penis extensions these days?) We need old school things like trust, connection, intellect, respect, loyalty and responsibility in order to feel safe enough to give up our most vunerable self to another for the long haul.
Finally, the entire cosmetic surgery and the whole recreate yourself from the outside out trend is conspiring to undo authenticity and relationship in our country. Nothing is real anymore and most of us don’t even have our original teeth let alone our original body parts. This preoccupation with how things appear at the expense of seeing things and people as they really are concerns me. After all, I still believe what my mama told me, “Beauty is only skin deep.” I don’t care how big the price tag that beauty has on it. Ten years after those implants have been implanted and I’m going to have to be looking at further surgery am I going to be any better person for it? Will my relationships be better because I have size 38 DD boobs in spite of the fact that I abuse my lover and mistreat the waitresses when we go out? Will my life be greatly improved over the long haul because my muffin top over my size 3 pants is less that it would be hanging over a size 10 pair of American Eagle jeans? Do I really need to have that reconstructive foot surgery to make my feet a size 6 from their original size 9.5 just because little feet are prettier? Really? Are my smaller feet going to make me more sensual, more considerate, more giving and more kind in bed or anywhere else?
I don’t know. The whole preoccupation with our physical appearance at the expense of becoming really quality people worth knowing bothers me just a bit.
Can you tell?
This post serves to inform the world that the online date of the year hasn’t yet resulted in my axe murder. In fact, in the words of the potential perpetrator, he “hasn’t had time to formulate his plan yet. He’s been having too much fun.” I know, so many of you were expecting some real drama here. Personally, I think it is because I haven’t let him out of my sight so he could purchase a meat cleaver. A chainsaw is much too weildy and he wouldn’t be able to sneak it into the hotel room without being noticed. After all, it’s not exactly the thing you carry around in your backpack when you are sight seeing in San Francisco.
Slipping something into my drink would be pointless since I already order my drinks fully loaded and there’s no poison out there that would do much more than give me a faint buzz. After all, codeine fully loaded merely acts as a stimulant to me.
There is always the chance that he could push me over the edge of the Golden Gate but then, everyone would see and he would be apprehended immediately. Dumping me over the side of the ferry would net the same results. He just informed me that probably his best bet is going to be slipping our helicopter pilot an extra couple hundred dollars to leave the door unlocked when we do the San Francisco Flight Tour. Hmmm, that could be gruesome. If he’s the sensitive sort, he’ll time it perfectly and I can be speared atop the Transamerica Building. That might make the evening news. With any luck I’ll be more famous in death with that trick than I ever was in life. I can only hope.
We’ll just have to wait and see, I suppose.
In the meantime, The Wild Mind and Oz are having a great time in SFO. He hasn’t done me in and stuffed me in a bathroom stall in Bloomingdale’s. Of course, if he was really serious about sending me on to the next life, he wouldn’t have backed out on buying that Rolex Ladies Date Just with diamond bezel he nearly purchased for me on Monday. He was so serious about it that it nearly sent me into cardiac arrest and the fact that I nearly passed out on the spot stopped him from going through with it.
I kind of think I’m going to be okay here.
I am generally a very self controlled person. There are certain things that cause me to lose complete control and because of this it is best that I stay far, far away from them. Some of them I just can’t get near because if I do I won’t stop indulging and others I know I can handle but only in limit quantities otherwise the result can be disastrous. I was going to title this post “Vices”, but then I wondered if the word “Addictions” might be more accurate. The Urban Dictionary defines a vice a “pleasurable evil” (Urban Dictionary, 2009). It defines addiction as a habit you can’t quit (Urban Dictionary, 2009). Using these definitions then, the following is a list of The Wild Mind’s Vices (since none of the following items are habits I can’t quit).
The first thing I know I should never put in the grocery cart, because if I do it won’t make it home before I’ve devoured it is this:
I love this popcorn. Regifting Friend turned me onto it earlier this year. Of course, she can afford to eat this stuff by the truckload, which she doesn’t because she has amazing control. I, on the other hand, do not have that kind of control where this delicacy is concerned and I can’t afford to eat it. At least, not in the quantities that I prefer to eat it. Boo! I literally can eat an entire bag of this, the family size bag, no less, in about twenty seconds if left alone. My kids know not to get between me and a bag of White Cheddar Popcorn. This food, in spite of it’s healthy name, is packed with calories and not so great for the backflab, muffin top, buttock or saddlebags, unless you are trying to achieve quantity and size in each of those domains. While, I’m not trying out for America’s Next Top Model any time soon, and while I also don’t want to sacrifice an occasional taste sensation in an effort to be my best self, I totally go over the top on this one. It, like alcohol, for some is something I can’t even have one taste of or I’m doomed. I think it goes beyond a vice.
It’s become an uncontrollable addiction. I simply can’t put this product on my shopping list anymore, not till I’ve put in considerable time a SmartFoods Anonymous, that’s for sure.
My next big vice is this little treat:
Seriously? A 100 calorie candy bar? Who would eat just one of those? Not me. Just better not even get me started. I absolutely dread Halloween because of this candy bar. It is my favorite! I especially like to peel off the hard outer chocolate, eat that first then devour the inner creamy whipped chocolate. Yuuuuuuuummmmmmm! I could and have made myself sick on these. I have a Treasure Box in my classroom that I used as an incentive. I long since learned that if I stock that Treasure Box with this treat, the kids will get none of it and my bathroom scale at home will read “DOUBLE EXTRA FAT” in no time. Not that I have anything against fat, but when it goes way beyond what is even remotely healthy for me and when the candy begins supplanting the vegetables, then I’d say enjoyment of an occasional good thing has turned once again into and uncontrollable addiction. I just can’t go near this one. Do not give it to me in my Christmas stocking. I will eat it in two seconds without pausing for breath before I’m done. It’s not an attractive thing to watch.
The third but not final vice is this morsel:
This one is also especially prevalent and troublesome at Halloween. I also cannot have it anywhere near me, for obvious reasons. However, out of site out of mind. It isn’t like I ever crave these two candies enough to hop in the car and go buy a bunch and I never cave to the impulse by in the supermarket line, so it’s all good.
I have to be very careful at birthday parties for this reason:
I prefer cake over pie any day of the week. But only if the cake is really moist and the frosting isn’t that fake sugary kind that tastes and feels like someone added sugar to Crisco and spread it on. My true love is white cake but a really good chocolate cake can’t be beat either.
If I have to go out to eat, I must stay away from this heart-stopper (literally speaking):
I don’t often do fast food of any kind, because when I do I end up with a massive headache and a serious intestinal revolt. French fries are my weakness though and especially these kind if not overcooked. I smell these and I gain weight. If I eat them I’m doing time at the gym for the next three years.
Solid foods are not the only source of decadence I enjoy way too much. Certain beverages have a way of tempting me beyond control too. Fortunately, I know my limits. Trespassing beyond them will not bode well for me as you can imagine.
The Long Island Ice Tea is my signature cocktail. Some people add sugar. I prefer it without. My limit is two. Three and I have a headache the next day. Four and I’m guaranteed some time in prayer to the porcelain god begging for forgiveness from the error of my ways, or at least, my judgement. In the case of this little treat, more is not necessarily merrier. I’ve learned that one the hard way.
If wine is on the menu, here’s one I can drink like it’s soda pop:
I’ve learned that a friend and I can share a bottle like this and it works out to two glasses each. Sadly, in the early days after my divorce, I learned that I can down a whole bottle of this (that’s all four glasses to myself folks) and feel no ill effects in the morning if I take three ibuprofen, some Valerian Root and lots of water before heading to bed. No headache, no hangover. But really? What’s the point there? I like this particular brand of Reisling but it no longer has the draw that it once did. It certainly isn’t in the form of an addiction, certainly not to the level of the White Cheddar Popcorn because I can keep a bottle of this on hand for several days before cracking it open. The popcorn rarely makes it home since I’ve usually scarfed it down in car on the way back home.
My daughter turned me on to this one recently:
Of course, the Strawberries and Creme Frappucinos are way too expensive for a single mom of four living on a budget to indulge in routinely , so this qualifies neither as a vice nor an addiction, but lands firmly in the once-a-year treat category.
So, whether they are really addictions (I think not) or merely vices, is open for interpretation. These are the yummy little pleasures that for me spell disaster if I consume them with the fervor and enthusiasm that I’d really like to be able to. Everyone has an evil little food pleasure, don’t they? That one thing that if it weren’t for every shred of restraint we’d lose complete control over. Some of us (read, I) have more than one. What are some of your decadently evil little food pleasures?
Last night I was talking to a friend. She’s been dating a man for about a year and a half now. She is frustrated. She called me for help. Well, to more accurately state it she called for encouragement, support and to have a safe place to rant.
In the last 12 days, they’ve seen each other once. They live in the same town.
He didn’t spend the 4th of July with her, though he indicated he would and then never called. She and her two kids spent the 4th with me and my youngest.
He routinely tells her he wants to get together with her then goes silent for days on end.
He was scheduled to move in with her in May. It is now July and no further progress toward that end has occurred.
She called me wanting to know what she should do.
Like I would know.
In the last two years, I have dated a lot of people. I have learned a lot. I guess it shows. Even though she’s been part of this journey all the way along she called me to hear again the journey and to get her head on straight. She already knew what I was going to tell her.
I didn’t let her down. I told her to kick the guy to the curb.
But…before I did that, I told her some other things that were helpful for me as I struggled through exactly the same fears, insecurities, and pain she is now going through. What follows are some of those thoughts.
1. First things first. Figure out what you are all about. It is imperative that you know what your must haves, and deal breakers are. If necessary write them down. Continue to revisit the list. I know it sounds ooey gooey touchy feely but getting to know yourself and accepting yourself as you are (a work in progress and a mighty fine and unique work at that) is critical to your success not just in dating, but in life. I personally also think that it is a good idea to know what areas you are not clear about or what areas or behaviors or qualities you are unsure if you can accept or not. These are what I call gray areas. For example, I know that I could not handle living with a chain smoker. But, in the last two years I have dated several men who on occasion had a cigar with scotch outside in the evening or while playing darts out in the garage. While, I have issues with smoking anything from a health perspective, if I found Mr. Right and he enjoyed a cigar on occasion, I think I could live with that. Cigars were a gray area for me.
I told my friend that before she could really make any decisions she had to decide what she wanted for herself and in relationship. I also reminded her about the following: She’s let the guy know that his on again off again behavior is not working for her. He’s done nothing to change. News flash for her: He is not going to change. She now has a decision to make. Can she accept this relationship, his treatment of her and all that she is currently experiencing as it is and be content or not? She can’t make those decisions till she knows what works for her and what doesn’t. She admitted, that this current situation does not work for her.
2. Expect to be made a priority. I’ve said this more times than I care to recall, but when a man is crazy about a woman he goes to the wall for her. The Taj Mahal was built for a woman. All sorts of love songs, poems, and efforts are expended on the part of men to woo that one particular lady that captures his imagination and his heart. She doesn’t have to drop hints, call him, stalk him or do any relational heavy lifting. If he’s broke and he’s into her he’ll do what he can, get a second job if need be to make life happen with her. While I am currently speaking from experience on this one for myself, I would know this reality were true even if I did not. How would I know because many, many, many men have personally told me this. They simply won’t let the phone grow cold, nor will they leave any doubt in her mind (or anyone else’s for that matter) how they feel about her. They even humiliate themselves by dressing up in silly knight costumes to propose in front of a crowd or they go to insane lengths to skywrite love messages and proposals for all including and especially her to see.
Message here? Expect him to expend some significant effort in order to make being with you a priority. If he’s not doing this it is because he’s just not feeling it.
3. Expect to be treated with respect and consideration. This, my friends, goes both ways. Men and women both should have this as a core relational value. For me, this reigns supreme and is an underpinning for any successful relationship. For my friend last night, thinking about this was the real eye opener. When a person says they’ll do something and doesn’t come through on their word and especially when there is a consistent pattern of doing this with no real explanation (and sorry, my phone went dead just doesn’t cut it) the person is being disrespectful and inconsiderate. Does he listen to you? Does he value your input when making decisions? Does he make good on his agreements with you? Is he respectful of your life, your activities and your family obligations or do you somehow end up feeling like what matters to you is just somehow not that important to him? How does he pay attention to you when you are out with a group of people or does he disappear till the end of the evening when it is time to leave? Does he indicate that he cares about your happiness and well being (however that’s demonstrated)? Hopefully this is one area that is definitely reciprocal.
What’s the logic behind this one? Think about it. Relationships and habits of interacting do not necessarily improve over time, unless two people are working at it and committed to it. It is generally the case that two people will begin to grow more comfortable with each other, they will tend to assume the feelings are known, and things get more casual and more is taken for granted. Establishing patterns of interacting respectfully from the get go is critical. It is much more difficult to insist on this after the relationship is established if it hasn’t been an expectation from the beginning. If you start out allowing a guy to treat you badly, he’s probably not going to improve much.
4. Value yourself. Here’s the deal. If you don’t think you are worthy of respect, consideration or that you are worth expending some effort on to connect with, no one else is going to think so either. It will be difficult for you to proactively chart your happiness course if you don’t first see yourself as just as valuable and worthy of good treatment as the next person. If you come at this relationship thing from the perspective that you can’t do any better, this is better than nothing or that you have to make exceptions due to your age, weight, income or number of children or whatever you will always sell yourself short.
I can’t tell you how many times men and women alike told me all along this journey that my biggest difficulty in finding a quality person or developing a quality relationship was going to be the fact that I have four children. While, my children are a huge consideration and something any prospective beau must be willing to accept, I never bought that excuse. All it meant for mewas that anyone who found the fact that I have four children and two ex’s a problem, wasn’t the guy for me. After all, I’m not looking for a father replacement for any of them. I’m not even looking for any parental assistance. I’m looking for good quality connection and companionship for me. Yes, he’s got to be an excellent role model, but he would be if I chose him based on his innate character anyway. I simply refused to allow myself to sink into despair based on what so many other people told me about this one. I determined that no relationship was better than something that just kinda sorta worked and it was far superior to a bad relationship. And, funny how life is, seems just the person may have wandered in who is a great fit for me and who is confident and competent enough that he’s not in the least intimidated or alarmed by four kids and two ex’s.
I don’t know what decisions my friend will arrive at for herself. She’s feeling pretty blue about her current relational realities right now and she’s having a tough time facing facts. I understand her angst. I’ve been there. She’s a wonderful person with so much to offer but before she can really offer any of it, she’s got to believe it about herself first. So do the rest of us. This is all sometimes easier said than done.
Have you ever kept someone in your life, listed on your cell phone, written in your little black book so to speak, that you have no intention of ever getting serious with? They aren’t really a friend, they aren’t a love interest, they are nothing, but you keep them around because, well, when you have nothing better to do they are something to do. They are your own personal boredom buster. I’m not even talking a friends with benefits thing here. I’m talking simply someone you contact when there is no one else available to contact. You do it because you are alone, you are bored, you don’t want to be alone and you’d rather be bored with someone else nearby, anyone else, than be bored by yourself.
Personally, I don’t operate this way, but I know there are others who do. It’s especially humorous, when I discover that someone has placed me on their own personal Boredom Buster register. This happened to me a couple of nights ago when someone I met nearly a year ago on one of those sleazy free dating sites contacted me out of the blue through a text message. Now, this was someone who initially contacted me. They always contact me. I never initiate contact ever. We corresponded a bit but since he never asked me out, we never met. I’m not much into digital dating so I moved on and dismissed him as a real contender for Date of the Year Award.
He would text me (he never called) every so often. Sometimes I responded, most of the time I did not. He still kept contacting me. One night many months ago, we agreed to meet. He was never a serious interest and I happened to be out with the girls at a trendy little pub in a trendier little community. He contacted me wanted to know if I wanted to get together for drinks. I told him I was already out, if he wanted to come by I’d be there for another hour or so.
He showed up in a t-shirt and a baseball cap.
He didn’t look at all like his pictures.
I was even less impressed than before and it didn’t help that I found out he’s separated, not divorced and “due to finances” not getting divorced any time soon.
Wrong answer! Thank you for playin’!
I finished up my drink and went home.
He never called and then a month later he texts me, again on a Friday night to see what I’m up to.
I didn’t respond.
Seriously, girls, do not get into the last minute habit here with a guy. You’ll have no life.
He texted me a month later same deal, no response from me and then he went silent.
A couple of nights ago he texted me out of the blue and this coversation transpired:
He: Now that my ribs are healed, I’d sure love to get together again with you.
Mind you, last time I saw this dude was over the holidays, maybe as late as February. I mean really? Who shows up at a trendy pub with the intent of meeting a hot chick in a baseball cap and a t-shirt? Not someone who is serious about impressing said hot chick that’s for sure. My thought was, “Wow! Wonder what he looks like when he’s just hanging out at home?” It wasn’t a good visual.
Back to the bizarre conversation at hand…
Me: What happened with your ribs? (Duh! Like I really cared, but I suspected it had the makings of a great blog post!)
He: (I deleted this message but it said something like…”I didnt’ tell you what happened? OMG! I thought I did.” Then he made some nondescript statement about really wanting to date me but about being “shy” of all things.
Me: Yeah. You’ve kept in such close contact I’m absolutely certain you are into me…NOT! 
He: Wow…you’re tough…well I would like to take you out for drinks…dinner…both…when are you free?
Me: Seriously? Thought you were playing me. I moved on.
I never actually considered this guy for a minute. At one point, I told him directly that since he was not moving in the direction of finalizing his divorce, I was uninterested in getting to know him in any other capacity than purely platonic friends without benefits. What I didn’t tell him was I’m not really even interested in getting to know him as friends.
He: Ok…I really am sorry I did not contact you more. I thoroughly enjoyed meeting you. You were the 1st interesting conversation I had in months (yeah, that’s what they all say and then they don’t call…if I only had a dollar…LOL!)
Me: Well, thank you. I enjoyed meeting you too, but in the down time someone captured my interest and imagination and I just feel I can’t give anyone else a fair hearing while he’s a contender. It might not go anywhere and that’s okay, but until I know that for certain, no one is stacking up.
Now who would pursue someone after that? Yet, he comes back for more…
He: Fair enough and for love’s sake I hope things work out for you. You deserve to be happy. (Darn straight I do…and so does he…but he’s not getting anything with that level of effort. And, wait…what’s he talking about? I’m already happy. LOL! ) I will check in at a later date. 
I did not respond to this. I mean what could I say? I probably shouldn’t have engaged in the conversation with him to begin with. It is clear I am simply a boredom buster for him. He’s not legally available and is merely looking for a distraction. I am not willing to be that distraction. I’ve been very clear with him that I am not interested in a friends with benefits situation nor am I into dating someone who is emotionally or legally unavailable. I met him for drinks once after meager correspondence of no substance for six months, when I was already out with my girlfriends. It was nice, not great and I didn’t even shake his hand upon leaving.
Sometimes I don’t understand human behavior. Isn’t it better to be alone with your own thoughts than to continue to put yourself in social situations that end up unhappily? I mean, it just seems like he’s intentionally setting himself up for failure. I guess some people just can’t stand being alone with themselves and anything, anyone will do to help stave off the lonliness, pain, emptiness, disappointment and boredom. Or…am I simply missing the point here?
Now, while I’m making this little anecdotal record out to be humorous, and while it does have it’s humorous elements, the real emotion I feel at the end of the telling is sadness. Not for myself, necessarily. I am pretty content with myself and I can handle tons of time in solitude and silence. In fact, solitary confinement would never be a punishment for me it would be a relief. But for him and the many, many people like him who seem trapped, alone, lost and unable to really take control of their lives for themselves (and I do know how taking control is frightening and difficult) I feel very, very sad.
In the end, it all just seems he’s living a life of quiet self imposed desperation.
Well, take a look at this! I’ve received a response from that Online Hose Supplier that I mentioned a post or two back. To see the earlier correspondences you will have to just scroll through the earlier posts. I’m too tired and lazy to link them, sorry. Here’s what that overseas supplier responded with:
Once again I thank you for your inquiry about the range of hoses that may suit your somewhat unique requirements.
Unfortunately I am unable to provide you with pictures of the hose and fittings I referred to in my last correspondance but I can assure you it is unlike any of the previously used hoses you’ve described. I don’t mean to be critical but I think that ,in the past, you have chosen lesser quality and much less reliable equipment than your quite specific requirements deserve.
As a sign of good faith, and to sate your curiosity, I have taken the liberty of arranging for a free 2 week trial of a second hand sample of the product and its associated attachements. Once I have received Customs clearance I will endeavour to ship these to your home address.
As the items mentioned are not new I trust you will handle all items with care.
Please do not hesitate to contact the writer should you require anything further.
He is, it seems, being honest and straightforward about the condition of the hose. At least he admits the hose is not new. That’s okay, since new hoses are incompatible with my pump. My pump is an older model, still in excellent condition, requires little mechanical maintenace, and performs better than many of the newer models, however, the newer hoses just don’t seem to have the staying power my pump requires. THS is also willing to provide a two week free trial. He must be confident of his product or his salesmanship, or maybe both.
This brings up a few questions though. Like, how free is free? What is the small print? Better yet, is there anything written in invisible ink I should be aware of? What I’m most curious about is the “associated attachments”. Sounds like there might be more to the bargain than a mere hose.
This one’s got me crunching, squatting and lunging with gusto! Beyonce’s “Single Ladies” is just a lot of fun for so many reasons! It’s also nice to see some curvy girls kickin’ it up and having a great time! Back in my old school days, having curves like these women have wasn’t exactly in vogue. I’m so glad that my natural hairstyle was made popular by “Friends” and my curvy figure is now in vogue. Notice, I said curvy and that is not a euphemism for lumpy!
Also, just an FYI, for those of you who suspect that those heels are digitized, I can assure you that they probably are not. I could dance like that all night in heels like that!
Enjoy!
I have a million ideas just waiting to be penned, and no time to spare.
If I don’t get going, I’ll be late for work…and that would not be a good thing…especially today of all days.
Sigh.
It’ll have to keep for tomorrow.
April is National Poetry Month and I’m enjoying it. In fact, I’m enjoying it so much I had to share this poem, which means so much to me.
Last Night I Dreamed of Chickens by Jack Prelutsky
Last night I dreamed of chickens,
there were chickens everywhere,
they were standing on my stomach,
they were nesting in my hair,
they were pecking at my pillow,
they were hopping on my head,
they were ruffling up their feathers
as they raced about my bed.They were on the chairs and tables,
they were on the chandeliers,
they were roosting in the corners,
they were clucking in my ears,
there were chickens, chickens, chickens
for as far as I could see…
when I woke today, I noticed
there were eggs on top of me.
Now, that I’ve published this humorous poem by Jack Prelutsky, I am sure I am going to be bombarded with concerned and distressed comments and emails by those of you who actually believe that I am dreaming of chickens simply because I posted this post. Furthermore, I am certain there will be many of you psychologists out there just dying to analyze that dream as if it were one that I really did dream. It would probably disappoint you to no end to learn that in real life, I’ve never once dreamed of chickens, however, I sometimes dream of flying and I always dream of Tahiti or Australia. Whatever you decide to believe about my existence off blog, is yours to believe. Just understand, it might not be accurate and it might not be anywhere near factual. You’re still welcome to have all the fun with that your little heart and mind desire!
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