A few things

I'm awake at 5:30 am on Thanksgiving. I have no idea why. HERE'S WHAT YOU GET AS A RESULT.

1. The other day Charlie leaped on the coffee table, and this was as weird and anomalous an act as he's ever performed. He's sedate, if not unconscious, most of the time (unless a fire truck sounds its alarm, and then he's gotta HELP OUT!) and his favorite activities are a) sleeping and b) relaxing. He has never jumped on anything that was not cushioned and/or made for napping on.

sleepy sleeperson

Here you see Charlie in his natural habitat. It might seem as if he's peacefully dozing, but in fact he's waiting for me to place that blanket on top of him. He will soon look up and hrmph at me and if I don't do it he'll hrmph again. Come on, human with opposable thumbs--make with the blanket-application skills.

He will occasionally nab a person-food but only if it's on the very edge of the coffee table, at which point we're really just asking him to take it. But this, this jumping on the coffee table? It was as if he stood on his hind legs and offered us homemade crumpets. It made no sense. But there he was, just like that, on top of the coffee table, looking as confused about how he got there as we were. Scott and I were like whaaaaa? and he looked at us like I KNOW and then we had to help him off because he was all scrabble-legged and freaked about how to get down. And then afterward, oh, how we laughed. How we laughed!

We laughed like this: Ha, ha! Ha! Hoooo! Heh.

2. Ever since Camp Mighty, I have been having stress dreams about Oprah. Oprah is terribly disappointed with me. Every time she looks at me she makes her unhappy face, which I do not like. I complimented her on her dress, and it turned out that she called me into her office specifically to show me the problems with her dress and to ask me to return it for her! Goddammit! And then I woke up soaked in sweat.

3. Scott and I went out to dinner with friends last night and I spotted a character actor also at the restaurant, the kind of actor whose face you instantly recognize but you can't say from where. But his face, his lovable kindly hangdog face! Scott can usually identify these people at a glance, but the name was also escaping him. (Our friends just looked at us blankly while we referred to various obscure actors it could be but probably was not. Thank God we're married to each other.) On the way home I said, I know he's got a really WASPy name, like Buckram Gainsbridge or Percy Crampton. Scott scoffed at this and insisted that this actor was nothing if not Jewish and his name was probably Schlomo Herzfeld. (I'm paraphrasing.)

It turned out it was Austin Pendleton. Austin Pendleton! WHO WAS RIGHT ABOUT THE KIND OF NAME HE HAS OH THAT WOULD BE ME. Scott was not impressed enough that I at least could pull the characteristics of his name from deep within my subconscious. So now I'm asking you to be impressed. Go on.

4. I feel like this is some kind of metaphor for my life, but I'm not sure how:

5. In another dream Oprah wanted me to find someone's missing baby while she talked with her contractors about renovating her new offices. I couldn't find the baby. Once again: all sweaty upon awakening. I NEED TO MAKE OPRAH LIKE ME.