I took hoppie's car to get it inspected this morning and I couldn't find the registration. They were able to do it from the information they had on last year's registration and the fact that his registration is current, but the tech whispered to me as I left, "Find your registration." I love my tech. He does all our cars inspections.
And speaking of which, while I was getting hoppie's done, I noticed the new sticker was red, what a crazy color, and I thought, "Hey! I didn't know it was red this year." And I continued thinking, "and I really should have because my car should have been inspected in June and already have a red sticker." Sure enough when I get back to my car, it has a green sticker and it did, in fact, expire in June. So this afternoon, I think I'll take my car in and have it inspected.
One of hoppie's friends asked if I had some thrillers he could borrow. Of course, I have every type of book under the sun, so I offered to check through the collection (somewhat) to find him some books. The first three thrillers I found:
A Raymond Chandler (don't remember which one)
The Manchurian Candidate
And I forget the third one, but it was something equally classic. After that, when I dug deeper into books I haven't been in for awhile, I found more shlocky thrillers, but when did my taste in shlock even start to run to the classical? It's embarrassing. Soon, even my romance novels will all be of the Jane Austin, Fanny Burney, Bronte sister variety. It's humiliating, is what it is.
I was in some sort of classroom, sitting next to two high school aged kids (in fact everyone was HS age, except me and the teacher. I'm the age I am now (or possibly yesterday, not sure) who were explaining that their story centered around the pet of a Mary Sue character written by someone else in the class (although they'd disguised the story). One of them did most of the talking, while the other just interjected or embellished the introduction as needed. The interjector was sitting next to me. She kept quoting things that she only half remembered. I corrected the first quote, although she got the source right, and on the second quote, she got both the quote and the source wrong, but the quote was close enough that I was able to chime in,
"You're thinking of Puck's closing speech in A Midsummer Night's Dream" and I corrected the quote for her, "If we shadows have offended/think but this and all is mended."
"Yeah, that's it!" she said.
"You're very articulate." (although it's not probably not the word I meant), "I was able to very easily understand what you were saying." Which sounded offensive to me after I said it, although it was well intentioned.
So they started the movie (or at least I thought it was movie) of their story of the cat lamenting it's possession by said Mary Sue character. I walked out of the room for minute ( don't know why) and when I came back, I apparently hadn't been paying much attention to where I'd come from, because I started following the signs for the class, which took me downstairs. When I entered the room, it was the dungeon where they were doing the live production of their story, and somehow broadcasting it upstairs. One was doing most of the acting, while the pet sat on a chair in a courtroom giving evidence to convict the Mary Sue of Mary Suedom and sentence her to DEATH, and the other did sound effects (and told me to take over that piece) and a third, a slightly younger girl was mostly asleep on a bed in the corner, out of view. The sound effects were many and numerous, and I thought I'd never be able to keep up. Eventually, I stopped paying attention and started imagining how I would defend myself against these accusations if I were the Mary Sue.
In my dream it was obviously today because I was supposed to meet Laina for lunch, but I'd been running some errands and I realized I was in Natick, right near where Blinky works. Actually, when I realized that, I'd just turned onto the street his office was on and passed him getting into his car. So I called his cellphone and agreed to meet him for lunch and then tried to turn around to go back to his office, but I couldn't find the right way. I ended up parking my car on the top floor of this building. I took the stairs down to...I have no idea what I was trying to do. I took the elevator back up and I couldn't find my car. There was a car that looked sorta like mine but it had been entirely reupholstered (for which I blame queenortart and her footstool refinishing). Apparently I'd parked my car in some sort of car detailing lot that did that sort of thing . I was furious because the upholstery was icky flower print. But I went off to meet Blinky (somewhat late), but ended up at this sports stadium of some type with a bunch of hoppie's coworkers. And then I had to call both Blinky and Laina to cancel. I had invited Laina to meet me and Blinky, but she wasn't sure if she could go out that for. Now I ended up having to cancel on both of them. Very upsetting. I had my palm out to help with something. And I don't remember much after that. Rocker showed up at the area at some point annoyed that we hadn't invited him when everyone else was there.
My keyboard squeaks. What causes that?