I Dream of George

On the morning of Wednesday January 20th, I dreamt that George W. Bush was my boyfriend.

We had a romantic time hugging and kissing, and he was quite sweet and affectionate but no intellectual heavyweight. He was rather vain of his arms, which he exercises to keep slim but toned. Laura was not around and I got the sense they were not on good terms, as though their marriage was a sham for his office. We did not discuss politics, and I got the impression that nothing interested him less. Our relationship was more about cuddling than sex.

Well, this has to be one of my strangest dreams ever, as there are few things I detest more than Dubya. My husband thinks that perhaps I am trying to find the silver lining in what the next four years will bring, or in something else I don't like.

Back Again

Four thoughts for the new year:

1) Happy New Year, and thank goodness the holidays are over. Although, as CBS' Andy Rooney has said, "the only really good news will be when this horrible time in American history is over."

2) Thoughts and prayers to the tsunami victims in Asia, who have endured so much and whose example shows how precious and fragile life is - and how much good can be done when people decide to come together and help.

3) Thoughts and prayers for others around the globe as well, who do not enjoy the many benefits of life in a First World country and are in some cases - especially in Iraq - suffering First World-exacerbated misery. For more on this, see this recent interview with Noam Chomsky.

4) It's raining cats and dogs here in Los Angeles; the south side of our yard is flooding. We're trying to keep it from wreaking havoc on the house.

More later.