Monday, July 30, 2012

Vampires in the Basement

Lon Chaney as the Phantom

Last night I had a dream that we had a vampire living in our basement.  (We, of course, do not have a basement, but apparently the sleeping mind is not concerned with details.)  This was not the Twilight/Robert Pattinson type vampire, but more of the old school, Lon Chaney variety (think Phantom of the Opera).  I believe he even appeared in black and white, while the rest of the dream was in glorious technicolor. 
He's so dreamy..;)
The problem in the dream wasn't that the vampire was living in our basement, but that he was sneaking in his undead girlfriend.  And she was taking extended hot showers in our bathroom (apparently my subliminal brain believes the undead to be a bit chilly), therefore keeping the rightful owner (me) from using the facilities.

Next our vampire tenant invited his family over to hang out--his parents and grandparents were bats, naturally.  "Great", I thought, "now we have bats in the basement.  At least they won't be hogging the bathroom."

I awoke from this dream to the realization that I had a very full bladder.  Evidently this long and slightly weird dream was my body's way of telling me to get up and go pee.

As I thought about this dream later, I wondered if I could fit it all into a Facebook post, but decided a quick blog was needed to do it justice.  After all, a subconscious mind is a terrible thing to waste.

Tuesday, July 17, 2012

Too Good to Be True

I haven't written anything in quite awhile, but every time I think I should sit down and whip out something, I grow very sleepy.  Too many early mornings and not enough napping seem to be zapping my creative energy.  Maybe that's it, I thought.  Maybe I don't have anything else to say. 

But then, as if answering my cries in the wilderness (of unincorporated Snohomish county), God bequeathed unto me the miracle I'd been waiting for--infomercials.

My husband has been leaving the house by 5:30, and being the good little wifey, I've been rising early with him (that and the dogs bark incessantly after he leaves). With nothing much to do that early (I learned the hard way that my brain is not capable of work before 7am), I turn on the TV, but all that's on are infomercials .  Every time I tune into one I start out skeptical-- I don't care which aging star you hire to hawk your exercise program, I'm not buying.  (Is Chuck Norris really still alive/!)  But there's nothing else on so I sometimes pause and watch a few extra minutes--and that's when they reel me in. Cindy Crawford says the secret beautiful skin is melons grown in an undisclosed location in the south of France!  Maybe I can have rock hard abs and make a $100,000 a year from the privacy of my own home! At first they seem all smarmy, but after 10 minutes I'm a believer. How does this happen?

The Contour Ab Belt is a product that seems beyond ridiculous, like something you'd order from the back of a comic book (along with your xray glasses). This is a belt you wear around your midsection that sends electrical impulses through your muscles, thereby working your abdominal muscles for you. The pulsating belt will give me six-pack abs while I watch TV, iron, or stroll on the beach.   I noticed the fine print as it quickly flashed across the bottom of the screen, in print too minuscule for the human eye (luckily mine are bionic, or I have reading glasses...whatever).  In order to reach the results seen on TV, I would need to eat right and exercise.  Hold the phone--I thought this was the answer to my prayers!  I want to get in rock hard shape without all the fuss and muss, all for a $14.95, 30 day trial. (I noticed they never said what you pay after the 30 days--or I became too disillusioned before they got to that part.)  If I can't trust the Contour Ab Belt, who can I trust?!

The 6 Week Body Makeover promises to let you re-sculpt your body--all you have to do is draw a picture of the body you want over the body you have and you too can achieve your dreams. (Mine would include long thin legs and a curvaceous bust line)  At first I thought this was just another crazy weight loss scheme, but this one actually seems sensible.  You eat regular food and you exercise, all according to the personalized plan they sell you for six easy payments of $19.95.  I listened to the many testimonials from satisfies customers, but was disappointed by the disclaimer:  "Your results will vary depending on compliance, starting weight and other factors."  Other factors? Such as the phase of the moon or whether you break up with your boyfriend in those six weeks?  I can have my results vary for free, thank you very much.

My favorite by far is the Psychic Source.  Now I have nothing against psychics--while not a true believer, you only have to watch "Long Island Medium" to lose your skepticism.  Of course there is the problem of doing a psychic reading over the phone--what if I have static on my line?  Will they misread me and recommend the wrong lottery numbers?  This particular company promotes many types of services, from Pet Psychic ("Now hold the phone up to Fluffy's ear") to Lost Objects ("Madam Fortenza, where did I leave my keys?").  And your first call is only $10 for the first 10 minutes!  Then they flashed the disclaimer and broke my little psychic heart:  "Readings are for entertainment only."  Man, disappointed again!

In the interest of full disclosure, I will admit to once ordering something from an infomercial.  It was a Pilate's DVD that came with some sort of exercise hoop.  Unfortunately the DVD did not show any exercise routines, but only what I could look forward to if I ordered the rest of the DVD set.  And they never told me what I supposed to do with that stupid hoop.