It's not mean because I really love them

This is probably really bourgeois of me, but I have favorite homeless/local vagrant-crazies. It started when I was coming back from New Orleans through O'Hare and a homeless woman said to me "Welcome to the city of thieves and lame-brained meatheads!" I was in awe that she had spoken such a profound sentiment directly to me, and it made and makes me feel a little special. When I was in Oshkosh, there were a lot of people who had been dumped out of the enormous downtown halfway house LOOONG before they were halfway and they would hang out at the local Country Kitchen and my friend Flossie and I would hang out there for hours waiting for them to drop us some morsels of wisdom and/or insanity. My favorite was Downtown Tony, also known as Mr. T. He used to always ask people if they were employed before he panhandled from them. I thought that was pretty high-minded of him.

Iowa City was not without it's homeless dudes, but there weren't many that were as colorful as the dudes in Oshkosh. I have to say though that there are a couple new people in Iowa City that I am really liking. The first one came in the workout room at the Rec Center a few weeks ago. He walked in with a viewfinder, like the old plastic ones we grew up with, glued to his eyes. He gazed into it intently until he got into the seat of the stationary bike, he biked for about ten minutes, then he got up and grabbed a cracked hand mirror out of his cargo pant pocket and held that up to his face as closely as he held the viewfinder as he walked out of the room. I think there is something deeply poetic about that and I wish I knew more about him, but I also sort of like the mystery of how he deals with images and reflections.

The other guy maybe doesn't count. He is sitting right next to me. (Is this a terrible violation that I am writing this as he is sitting here fright now? I'm sorry if it is.) He has a plastic briefcase like the one my dad carried in the 70s filled with paperback copies of Brotherhood of War. Probably like ten copies stacked on top of each other. He opened the briefcase, rearranged them like five times, and then he picked one and opened it to the middle and started reading.

The reason I think he might not count is that he's clearly not a homeless guy. He's very clean and unmussed and it appears that he's being looked after by his companion. So he's just quirky.
I love that he has so many copies of the same book, though. In a briefcase. I appreciate the air of authority it gives him. Oh, he just looked at me. Should I be writing this??

Eeehhh... !!!

This is actually not all that anonymous...

So I'm reading Dry by Augusten Burroughs and in it he recounts his recovery from alcoholism, and he goes over the AA twelve-step process in pretty interesting detail. I thought Running With Scissors was funny and I'm still sort of thrown by the fact that it is all pretty much true, so when I saw Dry I grabbed it thinking, I can't wait to read more wacky adventures of that mixed-up guy! Well, I ended up relating to it a little differently than I thought I would. While his debauchery was, of course, far more epic than mine could ever be... I kind of related to certain aspects of his suffering. Namely the addiction part. SO I decided to look up an internet quiz and self-diagnose.

HOW TO KNOW IF OVEREATERS ANONYMOUS IS FOR YOU
1. Do you eat when you're not hungry?
Oh my yes. I am almost never HUNGRYhungry in the morning, but I always eat because I love eggs and toast. Then, I can't wait for lunch to come because it's a welcome respite from what I'm usually doing (working at boring temp job). Candy and cookies are an excellent pick-me-up at 10 and 2, by the way, and if there happens to be a Starbucks in the building I'm working in, so much the better darling! Then hooray for dinnertime! And then snacks in the evening, cookies or toast or popcorn or crackers and hummus. That and a little vino, and I think I've just explained why my ass is so damn big.
2. Do you go on eating binges for no apparent reason?
I like to think of "Because there's a pizza" as an apparent reason. I've never gone out to get food just to eat it... but if food happens to be there, it's a goner. And I have gone through nearly-empty cupboards and created some very weird mostly-carbohydrate concoctions to soothe the beast.
3. Do you have feelings of guilt and remorse after overeating?
That's not normal?
4. Do you give too much time and thought to food?
I think so, yes. I don't know what's a normal amount, though... but let's just say yes.
5. Do you look forward with pleasure and anticipation to the time when you can eat alone?
No, but I look forward to times when there some food to eat... I love popping over to Summit House to see what's for dinner. Mmmmm... hippie food, buffet style!
6. Do you plan these secret binges ahead of time?
Well, my binges aren't secrets. I am usually eating with people, and even if I weren't I usually end up with some food stuck to my shirt. Highly incriminating.
7. Do you eat sensibly before others and make up for it alone?
No, I eat like a hog in front of everybody. Any of my friends can confirm this. Sometimes, I eat a really sensible breakfast or dinner alone, and then I get the call that everyone's getting together to go out or cook in or barbecue or whatever, and... well, I don't want to be unsociable.
8. Is your weight affecting the way you live your life?
Kind of, because I am not a stripper, and if I was lovely and svelte this is how I would make my money.
9. Have you tried to diet for a week (or longer), only to fall short of your goal?
That's not normal?! This doesn't happen to everybody?! I think this question should be thrown out.
10. Do you resent others telling you to "use a little willpower" to stop overeating?
Well, that's an obnoxious, judgmental thing to say to someone. I would reply that I am already using my willpower not to kill and eat the person who said that to me.
11. Despite evidence to the contrary, have you continued to assert that you can diet "on your own" whenever you wish?
When have I ever said that? I have never said that. If I ever say that, punch me in the face.
12. Do you crave to eat at a definite time, day or night, other than mealtime?
There is never a time during the entire day when I would refuse a cookie. EVER.
13. Do you eat to escape from worries or trouble?
EVERYONE DOES THAT!!! STOP JUDGING ME!!!
14. Have you ever been treated for obesity or a food-related condition?
My mother put me on Nutri-System when I was fifteen. She was just trying to help.
15. Does your eating behavior make you or others unhappy?
It makes me unhappy because I want to be svelte. I also feel that I am consuming more than my share of resources that ought to be available to me within the human community. Well, and I feel like maybe I am spending too much time obsessing about stupid crap like cookies and my pants size.

Hmmm. Am I normal? I have completely lost perspective on this. Someone define normal for me. And please be really specific, because I'm neurotic and so my mind gets very squiggly.

put 'em on the grass?!

I'm not convinced that anyone is reading this anymore. I think pretty much all of my blogging friends are no longer blogging. So now this is just an open diary to all people of the universe. And who better to share the details with of the dream I had last night, if not every person in the entire galaxy? Who is literate? And who has access to the Internet? And who would read boring personal blogs about people's dreams?

MY DREAM

I was in the dining room of the house where I grew up in Bloomingdale, and I crawled up to the window and peeked out at my neighbor's house and WHAT? Their yard had turned into the OCEAN, and I could see into it, into the entire thing all the way down to the bottom, because it was totally lit up by a film crew. That's right, I was lucky enough to be watching the making of a movie about papier mache-looking triceratopses attacking humans underwater during the Civil War right outside my window!!! The effects were amazing, because in addition to the papier mache triceratopses, the actors all looked like engraved drawings from the 1860s, though I can tell you that this was definitely NOT animation. The actors were just really good. And the costumes were very nice as well.

After a while, Hollywood's George Clooney joined me at the window and offered me a drink that he had mixed from my parent's bar in the back of the dining room. I looked back out the window and the ocean was dark, and George said, "of course it is they're done filming", and I felt sheepish. Then I noticed that my next door neighbors had added some really cool yard art, the best piece of which was a three-story high totem pole, which had all these human figures around the bottom that had TVs for heads. I thought this was cool and George pronounced it "very Modern."

He then went into the kitchen and I made a salad to go with what he was making, but I can't remember what it was anymore.

THE END

I would classify this dream as definitely good, borderline awesome. Though I may be overinflating its value due to the horrible nightmare I had the night before...

MY BAD DREAM

I finished The Sun Also Rises right before I went to bed, and then I dreamed that I had to kill a bunch of bulls. I wasn't fighting the bulls, though. I was just slaughtering them. I had to touch the bulls on the neck in the place where I was going to stab them, and they felt like my friend's puppy Neville, and I woke up scared and miserable and I couldn't go back to sleep.

THE END

I have been on the Stairmaster for at least twenty minutes a day since I got to Iowa City (if that doesn't sound like a lot to you, go do it and see if you don't get all gross and sweaty!). I have been working out at the rec center with the Mexican guys. Of course, they do more lifting and presses while I am concentrating on lower body and situps. It's cool, really. It's very macho in there, and it sort of brings out a physical side of myself that I've never really bothered with before (like if I'm doing chest presses, instead of stopping when I'm done with my set I'll push myself as far as I can go and make a scary face when I do the last one). And I actually enjoy working up one disgusting sweat per day, I think it's good for me. But, all that aside, do you want to know why I'm sweating it, reader?

Because I have to wear a babydoll nightgown onstage in one month.

And, let me just tell you, Mama's thighs are not what they used to be. Actually, o.k., my thighs are better than they've ever been (I used to be titillatingly tubby, now I'm just pleasingly plump), but I still would not call them stageworthy.

Particularly because mama is playing a 22-year-old. It would be one thing if I were playing a woman just a bit past her prime who was hamfistedly trying to seduce someone (comedy, ahoy!), but I am supposed to actually successfully seduce my fiance on a small couch. I'm a little worried about looking like a hippo in a tutu.

You know, it's actually going much better than I expected... I am really having a very good time and I'm figuring out how to make the role work for me and I feel very confident that everything will come together and the show will be very, very funny.

I'm just a little worried about the public unveiling. I haven't worn shorts in public since... ever. Maybe I can negotiate a knee-length babydoll nightgown. Or some charming matching snowpants. Though perhaps this will be an empowering thing. Maybe I'll come back to Chicago with a wardrobe of hotpants. If I can find anyone who makes them this big.

Sigh.