"In Dreams Begin Responsibilities"

(That's the title of the last episode of My So-Called Life.)

This is what I dreamed last night:

We were students at a boarding school. I knew it was a boarding school because it reminded me of college only we were wearing uniforms. I was trying to sleep but I couldn't. Ricky was in my room reading Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. I tried to curl up and go to sleep again, but I was agitated, so I went outside to the playground. I ran into Stephen Carter who looked about 35 years old and like he was having a rough time of it. He was mad at me and yelled at me, but I didn't understand why. Usher was standing nearby and I silently asked him to come rescue me, even though part of me really wanted to get to the bottom of why Stephen was angry. Usher came over and was like, "Hey what's going on?" I smiled at him and looked back to Stephen and tried to give him one of those "Hey, it's Usher, what else can I do but go with him?" kinda looks. So Usher and I walked over to the drinking fountain, but it got dark all of a sudden and I had to run back to my dorm. Ricky was still there, but once I came in he closed his book and said he had to go because he had detention with Snape.

End of Dream.

I have strange sort of memorable dreams a few times a week, so I'm not sure why I felt like writing down this one--the appearance of Stephen Carter, maybe, because I felt like I was seeing into the future of his face. I think I can trace that back to seeing (in real life) Josh Boris a few days ago at a Mariners game. I thought he looked old. And I saw Dru Johnston a week or so ago and thought he looked old too. Men's faces age differently than women's, I think.

And! Harry Potter torments my soul. Can I ever loosen its grip?

AND!!!1 Ursher's got the beat to make your booty go

Internet relationships are not real relationships

I can't believe I've avoided meeting people on the internet for so long. It's a treasure trove of comedy. Cases in point:

1. The guy who says he's 27 but is clearly barely 21 who shows up wearing a pleather jacket then loudly slurps his beer and laughs like he's exploding every few minutes at nothing in particular

2. The guy who has one normal hand and one with incredibly long fingernails which he says he leaves grown out like that for "playing the guitar" but who is probably in some kind of vampire or Wolverine club

3. The guy who seems pretty normal yet never looks at me when he's talking, like he needs to be staring at a wall or the sky in order to concentrate on forming sentences.

To be fair, I'm not exactly the picture of coolness and social grace either. E.g.:

1. I always spill something--ice cream on my shirt, beer on my pants, water on the table, etc.

2. I laugh at my own bad jokes and then make fun of myself for laughing at my own jokes and then laugh at myself for pointing out that I laugh at myself.

3. On three out of four outings, I've ended up talking about Darrell.

GoodReads = Life

I've become obsessed with GoodReads, so what do I need a blog for? I'd rather talk about books! Books books books!

I wonder if casual GoodReads users log in and see that I've reviewed another 5 books and think, "That girl needs to get a life."

My faith in humanity? Restored!

Graceful I am not, which was proven again this morning when I tried to hop on the bus and fell flat on my face. It was 8:30 on a weekday morning, so the bus was pretty full and I heard a chorus of sympathetic/schaudenfreude oooohs. The top came off my giant mug of tea, which spilled everywhere and I banged my knee pretty hard, but other than that I was okay. Here's the play version of the rest of the story:

Bus Driver: Are you alright?

Me: Sorry for spilling all over your bus.

Bus Driver: It's okay. It happens all the time. I'm more worried about you.

Me: Oh, thanks. I'm fine. Just embarrassed.

Man on Bus: Are you okay?

Me: Yeah, I'm okay.

Woman on Bus: I'm sure it happens to people all the time.

Me: Yeah. I just got my sandals re-soled and I think that's why I tripped. I think the new soles are thicker.

Woman on Bus: Oh yes. I'm sure that's what it was. (Smiles big and encouragingly, I would even go so far as to say indulgently.)

Man on Bus: What's worse than tripping is losing your morning coffee!

Me: No kidding!

Woman on Bus: I would say so! (Smiles indulgently again.)

Man on Bus: I've got a big thermos of coffee here. Would you like some?

Me: Really?

Man on Bus: Sure! I put hot chocolate in it, so it's pretty sweet. Is that okay?

Me: Sure! Thanks!

(Man on Bus pours coffee and it is not too sweet.)

END OF PLAY

I know what you're thinking: Did she really drink coffee from a stranger? Reader, I did. It tasted like kindness.

Mad Bitches Against Gay People

Last year for one of my kid lit classes I created a book list for young children with gay parents. My favorite book on that list was And Tango Makes Three, the true story of two male penguins in the Central Park Zoo raising a baby penguin together. The book is about be be released in the UK, so the Guardian ran a story on it. Here's the best part:

The children's author Melvin Burgess agrees that the media debate is being shaped by a "vocal minority who don't have a lot of actual clout. The media have a difficulty in reporting this stuff," he says. "They want a ding-dong, so they invite someone from Mad Bitches Against Gay People [onto their programme]."

I think I would love to live in a world where you have to go out and invite controversey when its convenient (or when it boosts sales). It could be a service, like scandal-for-hire. Apparently:

Here in the UK, no-one at the Museums, Libraries and Archives Council (MLA), the Youth Libraries Group or the Chartered Institute of Library and Information Professionals is gathering data on the numbers of books removed from libraries due to complaints as the ALA does in the US. "We don't collect figures about [books that are challenged] because it's rare," says Ian Dodds. "It's not really an issue.

Wow. We can't even say "scrotum" in the US without pissing people off.

Hey all you Secret fans

I've been visualizing smart people rising up against The Secret and it finally worked! Check it out: Pessimist Nation

I don't know how to break it to my mom that Oprah's not perfect. I mean, I can't believe she fell for all that positive-thinking-can-make-anyone-rich-and-get-anyone-laid blither blather. I think what I'll do is secretly cancel my mom's subscription to O and start sneaking over to her house to erase Oprah from her DVR recordings. You know, let her detox slowly.

And speaking of addiction, this is funny: Might As Well Face It, You're Addicted to Come

p.s. I'm done with my first year of grad school on Friday. Party!

DIANE RHEM: SECRET HOTTIE

You heard it here first. Unless you already knew.