There's a Gary Jules song called "Mad World" in which he sings, "the dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had." At the risk of sounding freaky or self-destructive, I've got to say that I find this to be a very easy-to-relate-to line.

Some people say you can't die in your dreams, but I think they're wrong!  I died in mine last night and it was so weird and amazing and beautiful...in the dream I die in some kind of ##% accident (don't want to write it down since I feel like it would jinx things) and my spirit survives.

...I'm invisible (which is something I've always wanted to be)...My sister and niece are the only ones who can see me which is sort of odd if you ask me, but oh well...I'm happy and I can still enjoy things like eating (but now without any calories or consequences) and reading...and I get to see how people I've always liked are doing, too...and can help them out in tricky spots.

Ever since I was a little girl I've had the weirdest dreams...but in the years since my insomnia has gotten worse I've discovered that I sleep best and have the most intense dreams only when I have a cold and take NyQuil and magnesium together....

To me, it seems dreams are taken for granted or not even thought much of at all. But how can something that happens to you while you sleep, that feels so real and often so beautiful, be dismissed as "just" biological or (worse) reduced to a ridiculously pat ( and patronizing) theory like Freudian interpretation?

iTunes recently offered this stripped down version of  John Lennon's "Just Like Starting Over" (off Double Fantasy) for free. I downloaded it to my iPod and love it even more than the way it sounded in its original release in the early 80s.

Goldmine's website offers this wonderful book in honor of John Lennon's fabulous musical career and life:

here

  
I won't go into the details, but I just wanted to write a quick post about how easily open online personals websites like match.com can be when it comes to "romance scams," a longer and more elaborate type of the infamous 419.

This month I had a potentially harrowing experience of my own with online fraud and when I researched the subject more I was astonished to discover 1 out of 3 profiles on sites like match.com are completely fake.

I have to give credit (not really!) to the person who tried to rope me in...the scammer came up with an intriguing and interesting background for their personal history (complete with very convincing photos that most likely were stolen), but they still tripped and fell. They mistook yearning on my part (to meet someone nice and hopefully sincere) for stupidity.

For more info read here. It's one of the best sources on "romance scams" and amazingly close to what happened to me. I have to say that match.com was great about giving me a refund and helping with the situation, but I can't help but worry about particularly vulnerable people out "there" in cyberspace who may not realize what's happening to them until it's too late...

What a cute little thing this is; I saw it advertised in this Sundays' paper, in a Kohl's ad. It plays cds, cassettes, vinvl and even MP3s...

So when I was sick a couple of weeks ago and my viewing standards considerably lowered I watched a lot of  "I Dream of Jeannie." In one very likable episode ("Jeannie, The Hip Hippie") I couldn't help but find the "fake" music group Jeannie put together very catchy.

I didn't realize that two of the guys she blinked into her living room were actually Tommy Boyce and Bruce Hart, often associated with the sound of the Monkees. They had a huge hit with "I Wonder What She's Doing Tonight" (a song I used to love as a little girl.)

But a bit unnerving (and unexpected) was the sight of a young Phil Spector playing himself and nodding enthusiastically to the "new sound" of the group Jeannie slipped in to his office.