Poetry Friday…? I’m here for an argument!
I am hoping to pass the Poetry Friday torch to a fellow blogger this week, a blogger of an “irreverent” sort, but haven’t heard back from said blogger to see if they can do it this week. I got a late start, I admit it. I don’t want to dis them and post a Word for tomorrow, not after I’ve dangled the carrot of honour in front of their faces. If I don’t hear back from him soon (HIM, yes, I said it, so check your email if you’re a guy), you can count on tomorrow’s Poetry Friday being Poetry Friday Slam, or Potpourri, or Hot Dish. Hmmm…Poetry Friday Hot Dish…I sort of like that…that mixed-up casserole mystery meal so prevalent in the Midwest, meat and noodles and sauce topped with crushed potato chips or tater tots. Ya gonna eat yer tots? So yeah, we may be winging it tomorrow…weeeee!!
Me and the spouse got down and dirty last night, and I’m running on 4 hours sleep and not complaining about it one bit. No sirree bob, not complaining. Although the stupid dreams are continuing. At least last night I wasn’t yelling and mad at my kids in the dream, but mad only at Daniel Day-Lewis (the real one, not my Boy-child in some shape-shifting form as in the other night’s dream). At one time DDL was on my Fantasy Boyfriend list, before it was a proper list. I was mad about him in the 80s. I saw him on stage in London when he played Hamlet in 1989. And last night he invaded my dreams in some rhythmically complex way, a black and white movie thumping with music, and DDL with long hair and moustache, arguing with me about something.
Hmmm…maybe I’m just feeling argumentative?
I signed up yesterday to take a Cardio Striptease class with some fellow Soccer Moms. It overlaps my Bellydancing class by a week, but I don’t care. I don’t think you can have Too Much Sexy Dancing, can you?