Stream of Consciousness

It's not been my best 24 hours. It's not depression or anything like that. It's more like disappointment on several levels, and I've just made up my mind to be ornery. (Isn't that a great word, ornery? I never have enough good opportunities to use it in a sentence.) Advance warning, my trains of thought are not all running on the same track, so I apologize if this comes out a bit disjointed (hence the title).

I'm not a devoted Bachelor watcher, but since I'm back home now, my gym buddy works on Mondays, and my parents love this show, I've been watching. Tonight is The Women Tell All. Wouldn't that just be the most liberating experience? I think I might get some maddening satisfaction from announcing on national television how I feel about the people in my life. Of course, I'm a naturally affectionate person, so most of my revelations would be in favor of the subject, but there's always a few people who might be surprised. 

Phoebe (you all remember Phoebe, don't you?) is about to pop. I swear her stomach has doubled in size since last week. We found out who her owners were last week, and I'm not really happy about it. They know she's here, but they're not coming to get her, and they are still expecting to get the puppies when they're born. I just don't know what I will do. But, in the meantime, I've been amusing myself with coming up with names for them. I like to give pets elderly, middle-class anonymous names. For the girls, I like Myrtle, Eleanor (Nell), Alma, and Mamie (for Mamie Gummer, of course). For the boys, I like Sherman (I'm dying to name a dog Sherman), August (Auggie), Felix, Hamish, and Remington Steele the Fourth.

I've been seeing this video of Cyndi Lauper singing in the loudspeaker at the airport in Argentina on the news all day. I don't know why, maybe it's just because it's a good-feeling song in the first place, but seeing this makes me so ridiculously happy. Maybe I should invest in some Cyndi Lauper music in these dark times.

The circus is in town this weekend. Ringling Brothers AND Barnum and Bailey's, so you know it's a big deal. The commercials are driving me nuts with the whole "Zing Zang ZOOM!" thing, but I kind of want to go. I've never been to the circus, I don't think. I say "I don't think" because I had a dream when I was little that I went, and it's one of those really vivid ones that seemed so real at the time that now I think it actually happened, but mom assures me I've never been. 

This post makes no sense, and I'm sorry. This is what my mind looked like for the past 20 minutes.