I had bizarre dreams all night long.  I only remember one part, though, right before I woke up.

I wish I could remember more, but it had something to do with our book and a man wearing a wide-brimmed Dark Tower, gunslinger sort of hat, trenchcoat and a black skin-tight, spandex mask over his whole head, covering his eyes and mouth.  It was somewhat comic book-esque, visually.

There was this big square redwood building with a courtyard or park or something in the middle and Kathy and I were walking along crowded “halls” around the perimeter of this courtyard on our way… somewhere.  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the masked man in the hat and coat working his way through the crowd in a hallway across the courtyard. 

I knew him from my other dreams, somehow. You know what I mean? Like, I saw him and while I don’t remember any of the rest of my dream, *in* my dream I knew that I knew this person from before… whatever that means.  I immediately knew he was coming for us.  I grabbed Kathy’s hand and pulled, saying “We’ve got to move. It’s him.” I was surprisingly calm as we made our way through the crowd. 

In my dream there was a sense of danger and urgency as we hurried through the people.  I don’t know if this is my brain filling in things after the fact or if it was actually part of my dream, but I even seem to recall some kind of soundtrack… the kind of music they play during suspenseful scenes in thrillers.  I remember we got to the end of one of the “hallways” and I was fairly sure the masked man hadn’t seen us yet, but he pursued us with a serious, determined gait.  When I glanced over my shoulder to see if he was still coming, I caught a glimpse, strangely, of the cover of our book in his hand.  He was carrying it “boy style”, low along his hip with the cover facing out, so every time he’d swing his black-coated arm, I caught a flash of screaming pink against the black.

I have no idea what that means, but we made a left down another “hallway” and bent down to not be seen as we zig-zagged through the people.  We reached a ramp that led down to the grassy courtyard area and we huddled together behind a few people while the masked man paused for a moment and then headed straight down another hallway and not left in our direction.  Right then, I grabbed Kathy by the shoulders and said, “Run! We have to run. Go!” and watched as she ran full-speed down the ramp, disappearing into the trees (which weren’t there before, but were now, for whatever reason). 

And then I woke up.

Perhaps I shouldn’t eat hot sauce before bed.

My friend Heika came up with the name “Bettie” for my new car. It totally struck a chord, so I’m keeping it. Bettie it is!  It suits her.  Plus, I like a lot of Betties. Betty White… Bettie Page… Betty Crocker…

Betty Boop is out, though. To hell with Betty Boop and her creepy meatloaf head!  I’ve never cared for her. I never knew I felt so vehemently about it, though.  Live and learn. Blogging is catharsis, people.

Anyway, Bettie is getting her drivers-side window replaced today and the aforementioned “F-Touch” done to it. It’s that Teflon whatever they do to the interior and the paint.  They’ve given me a Yaris as a loaner and you know?  It’s not a bad little car!

Don’t get me wrong, I love Bettie.  I’ve been making a point to drive her a little every day. We’re bonding.  But this Yaris is a zippy little thing! And it had a lot more in it than I expected.  The stereo was fantastic (I want to say better than mine, but I think it’s just because I haven’t figured mine out yet.  ) and it had power windows and everything.  I love the Matrix, but the Yaris was far more car than I was expecting.

There are some oddities… like the odometer and speedometer being in the middle.  It’s disconcerting. I keep trying to glance down at the gauge, but instead have to dart my eyes to the right a bit.  Not having the gauges in front of me makes me feel a bit like I’m in a go-cart, but otherwise, not bad.  It’s got more pick-up than I thought, too.  I guess I assumed the Yaris would be like a Geo Metro, which I’ve proudly (sort of) owned and drove under the back of a Chevy van.  But this is far more substantial of a car for the wee car-let that it is.

I get Bettie back tomorrow. I’m impressed they decided to replace my window. I honestly didn’t care that much about the scratch, I just wanted it noted so I wasn’t charged for it when I turned in the lease, but Mossy Toyota went above and beyond. They’re replacing it with a factory window (which they had to order because they obviously didn’t have 2009’s in stock yet) and also adjusting my alignment at no charge because I noticed it seemed to be pulling to the left a bit on my ride home from the dealer.

And miracle of miracles, they called yesterday to confirm my appointment and when I arrived at 8:45 on the dot, there were tons of people milling around. I figured that I would have to wait at least a few minutes, but no!  Someone took my information, started the process of getting me into my loaner and I was out the door by 9:01.  Seriously.  Every person I’ve been in contact with has been pleasant, courteous and really helpful.

I know… from a car dealer. Who knew?  And I’m totally not even getting paid to say any of that. But I DO need to remember to bring in my survey when I pick up Bettie tomorrow.  There’s a drawing for a free iPhone!  Mmm… overpriced, ultra-cool, relatively unnecessary geekery… *drool*

This is a look, isn’t it?  I am just baffled that this poor guy actually thought this looked good.  We’ve all made some bad fashion choices in our lives, but that slightly off-kilter hat is purposeful.  Those sunglasses are intentional.  That chain… sweet mercy, that chain… that was a choice.

But doesn’t the skinny jean sort of trump the whole I’m a Big Baller bling he’s got around his neck?  Homeslice is just missing a bandana and he’s straight out of Breakin’ 3: Emo Meets West Side.

I really shouldn’t mock this guy. He was just there looking to get a $1 fish taco, but hey, if you want to dress like an extra on Fresh Prince, you’re asking to be put on the Internet.

I’ve been known to spontaneously make up songs for any given occasion. I also take existing songs and replace the words to suit my needs.  Sometimes I don’t realize I’m doing it… like today.

While taking my vitamins in the kitchen just now, I found myself singing to the tune of the Spiderman theme song:

Vita-min, Vita-min, does whatever a vitamin can!

Make me healthy!  Feelin’ good!

Just as a vitamin really should!

Look out!  Here comes the vita-miiiiiiiin!

Ok, so it wasn’t syllabically sound, but more curious is why Spiderman was my chosen melody.  It’s not like I stood there pondering the appropriate diddy to parody while I took my vitamins. It just came out of my mouth for assessment later.

Anyone else do this?  Certainly someone must… my dad used to do this, too, now that I think about it.  I wonder if it’s genetic…

I saw this on Daniel’s blog, …was I there?, this morning.  Even if you’ve never heard Mariah’s new song, “Touch My Body”, (which I personally don’t feel is all that, creatively, but then I’m not a Mariah fan) it’s still pretty funny.

Well, we’ve finally done it!  We finally got around to relaunching our website. This design was in the works for a long time, but we just never had a spare moment. While we loved our Air Moxie Girls in aqua and pink, it was time for something a little different.  We’ll also be launching two more sites this year that will be full our usual bold color choices, so don’t fret if you’re missing our other colors.

When we initially designed this, it was when the trend was in the throes of the “horizontal, web 2.0, let’s make everything really big and use charcoal gray a lot” phase.  We decided we didn’t want that, but did want to bring a slightly more sophisticated look, hence the yummy chocolate plum-ish color.  We call this Moxie-a-Go-Go and we’re having some fun with it.  You can read more about our new site on our blog, which now is open for comments.

What I wanted to tell you about is our Summer Cocktail Contest.  It’s not really a contest, per se. It’s more of a drawing, but there are prizes to be had, regardless.  You can read all about it here on our blog, but here’s the scoop:

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Kathy came online after wrangling Reilly into bed and her greeting went a little like this:

Kathy: christ!

Joelle: yes, my child?

(pause)

Kathy: what is the meaning of life?

Joelle: cheese.

Kathy: totally…

I realize this isn’t riveting, but we’re easily amused. Oh, by the way, look over here.

Do you fold your underwear?  I’m just curious.  I’ve never really been a big underwear folder, though, in my defense, I’ve not had any bureaus or dressers in which to keep them folded for a decade. They’ve been living in various storage trunks and Rubbermaid yard-sale post-college contraptions.  I decided to become a grown-up, so I recently bought some chests of drawers for my bedroom.  And I have since discovered I’m ambivalent about how to handle my unmentionables.

Folding seems like such a hassle. They’re not that big. I’m not a thong-wearer (though I do own one or two for some unknown reason), but it’s not like they’re grandma’s bloomers, for pete’s sake.  Yet, I noticed this weekend when I packed for my trip that when I folded my panties, I was able to fit more stuff in my suitcase, which leads me to believe the same applies to my drawer.

When I finally got my dresser and started to put away my clothes for the first time. I realized that my panty population had exploded like Mogwai after midnight and I had far, far, far more panties than one woman should really own. And not broken down, thread bare, saggy-butt panties, either.  Decent knickers!  Some lacey, some comfortable. Sexy ones, even… but many. Oh, so many.  Huh.  Where did they all come from?!

I suppose I could thin the herd a bit and toss the ones I don’t like/wear, but then after that… what? Fold?  No fold?  Just throw them in to mingle with the one-off socks and the get-lucky lingerie?

*sigh* Being a grown-up is hard.