and she said.. "how you interpret the dream is probably more important than the dream itself"

It's hot and it's really hot and it's Thursday but it really feels a heck of a lot like Friday. It feels like Friday because it has that air of expectation hanging around it, just like the humidity that seems to cling to you as you push through the heat. It feels like Friday because it's the first week of summer and it's the first truly truly hot day of summer and I am going to a baseball game Friday.. tomorrow.. sorta makes more sense that it should be today, you know? It feels like Friday because Thursdays weren't meant to be hot.. they weren't meant to be humid and drippy-sweat hot. Thursdays are chill-on-the-patio cool days. Thursdays are just-warm-enough-for-shorts days. Thursdays, I have been told, even sometimes have rain.

No rain here in the fair state of Maine.. not for some time now. It's been a hot humid mid-week and we're pushing into a hot humid weekend which will probably end up in rain somewhere down the line but for now it's just fun in the sun.

Or in the air conditioned office, as the case may be.

Air conditioning. In Maine. If that doesn't sound ludicrous I don't know what does.

Wednesdays.. now they were meant for fun in the afternoons, lemonade on the porch, even grilling on the patio. Wednesdays were made for neat little diversions to help you through the week. We were lucky enough, on this Wednesday, to have a neat little diversion in the way of a free Guster concert downtown and some awfully nice weather and, in my case, a pretty damn good natural pizza (no nitrate!). Guster sang all of the 5 or so mp3s I have of theres and they sounded just like 'em. How original. They sang all the old stuff and the leetle girls in front screamed and everyone else just stood around and shot the shit. It was hot. Almost too hot.

Learned an awfully good trick for you folks this weekend. Trying to cut back on the fats and the salts? Trying to eat healthy?

Next time you cook up some corn on the cob on the grill... don't lunge at the butter.. don't dive for the salt.. just cut yourself a slice of lime and run it up and down that cob until it's all lathered up in juice and let me tell you if that isn't one delicious peice of fruit garnished vegetable.

It's no salt and butter, but it's still damn good.

On the heels of the addictive cheese article I have declared a moratorium on cheese for two weeks. For two weeks I will not eat cheese of any sort and I will like it. I may drink milk, I may even have some butter... but I will not consume cheese in any way shape or form.

If I can not drink for two months surely I can avoid cheese for two weeks?

My roommate doesn't like cheese. She doesn't think it tastes good. She'll eat pizza and lasagna and whatnot, but she doesn't really dig on cheese.

Now if that isn't the most distrustful thing I've ever heard, I certainly don't know what is.