What?!

Here's a doozy of a letter that landed on my desk today:

All truly Spiritual Religious individuals recognize our truly Spiritual Common Ground, as one may see our Religious Reality as in the Birth of GOD into our mental knowledge of our now known/recognized GOD!

All truly Spiritual Religions are based upon a Humane Foundation, as in Safety for all Individual Lives, be they Current Lives, as well as Future Lives, as well as for all Humans being humane!

Hayward Militant Police are a City Official, as in Public Assets of, or in a Violent Source upon an Innocent Person, and or a Intimidation Source upon an Innocent Person, as well as a False Accusation Source upon an Innocent Person.

How Lovingly Smart, Humane is such true behavior of the Hayward Militant Police?

Weird Dream

As you may or may not know, I tend to have vivid, weird dreams. I actually haven't been having very many over the past few months, but last night's was a doozy. I'll try to write what I remember (of course, I woke up at 3 a.m. and repeated the whole thing to myself, but by this morning, some details had faded - and yes, I know, you're supposed to write it down or talk into a tape recorder or something, but it was 3 a.m. and I wasn't about to do either of those things).

The scene is a cemetery next to a school. I am currently a spectator, observing as if I'm watching a movie. It's nighttime, and I am aware that someone I know has been persecuted and killed for being an activist-- no details beyond that. Apparently this person had been on a hunger strike and was starved down to almost nothing, and their body (I think it was a man) had been thrown into the cemetery all shriveled and bloody. I remember thinking to myself that it looked like a deer that had been hit on the road.

I'm crying and realize that Ryan, our friend Julie and another guy are there. I knew who the other guy was at 3 a.m., but now I don't remember. All of a sudden we're all panicked -- we need to get the body out of there right away, it needs to be buried properly. I'm still only able to watch. Ryan and the other guy are on either side of the body and insert a stretcher underneath. Julie is in the middle and they are all trying with all their might to wrench this body from the ground. Nearby, a sort of cave or hole opens up in the hillside and they are able to quickly tip the body up and into the hole. We are all relieved.

Now I walk towards the school. Oddly enough, I run into my journalism teacher from junior college and am happy to see her. She asks what's wrong and offers to let me hide in her classroom. We go in and it's empty, but for some reason I need to put tables in there. Really long, skinny tables that for some reason I call "rally tables." I'm debating with Ryan, Julie and the other guy about whether they need to be wood or plastic...wood or plastic...wood or plastic. I finally yell out plastic! and they start bringing them in in a jumble. The tables are sliding all over the room and we're trying to make sense of them and put them in the right place. It's almost like bumper cars. The whole room is pink and orange.

Then, I wake up.

I have no idea what this means -- or if it's supposed to mean anything -- but it's weird nonetheless! I just remembered that I had another dream the other night involving one of my old employees. Something to do with a fence. It's odd how these people I haven't thought of or talked to in a long time suddenly pop up in my dreams!

Grinchtastic

This is why I hate holiday shopping at the mall.

First, it takes forever to find parking. I could find a cure for cancer in the time it takes to find a decent spot. I say decent because invariably it has to be raining on the day you go shop. Or at least mildly yucky. And you know that you're not going to want to soak your pant legs carrying an armful of goods to the awaiting chariot.

Finally, you settle for a quasi-OK spot and trudge inside, but not before having to dodge the jerk backing his car out without looking and the lady pushing the quadruple stroller while yakking on her cell phone and balancing a venti Starbucks.

There is now only 40 minutes left of your lunch break, so with determination you head to your desired store. But no! Wait! You must run the gauntlet of kiosks situated oh-so-conveniently in the middle of the mall! The entire LENGTH of the mall. They all beckon with the same annoying line: "Can I ask you a quick question?" No. You can't. If I wanted you to ask me a question, I would just stand motionless in the middle of the mall and allow you buzzards to set upon me at free will. I'm moving here, buddy! With determination! You may not, at any time, ask me a "quick question." In fact, I'm annoyed that you even asked me if you could ask me a question. Now I'm going to ask YOU if I can stick my foot up your bum.

Sidenote: Why does there always have to be that one creepy Eastern European guy who wants to drape some heated beanbag thing on your shoulders or massage lotion into your hands? I find this the ultimate in Comfort Bubble violation. I do not find pleasure in being molested by Count Dracula and his mall minions, especially when I am in a hurry. And I despise them even more because they completely bypass the whole "quick question" ploy! I sentence them to eternal lasagna from Sbarro.

Anyway, you manage to make it to your desired store. And, because the store is busy, you actually get to shop for once without being harassed by salespeople. Score! This is the only positive aspect of holiday shopping at the mall. But it's short-lived satisfaction, because it's time to head to the register. First, the line is never less than five people deep. You are usually the fifth/last person. You have one item. Everyone in front of you has 247.5 items. There are two people working the register. One is usually having some sort of computer problem and is spending every precious second banging on buttons and/or scanning and rescanning an item while shaking her head -- "No, I don't know what's wrong, it's not letting me do it." The other employee is usually having a heated exchange with a customer who speaks minimal English and is angrily trying to understand why she can't use two coupons at the same time. OR, he/she is trying to return something and doesn't have the receipt. The employee becomes exasperated and fetches a manager. The manager has the same EXACT dialogue the employee just had with the customer. Customer huffs and puffs; everyone left in line shakes their heads and rolls their eyes. Your lunch break ended five minutes ago. This is right around the time that employee #2's register also decides to act wonky (immediately after, I forgot to mention, some deal has been struck with angry customer).

Somehow, you finally make it to the front and it takes less than two minutes to purchase your item. WTF? Why is that so hard for everyone else?

Time to head back to the car, but first you have to squeeze past the couple holding hands, walking slooooowwwwly AND blocking the whole mall walkway.

I wonder if the Grinch has high blood pressure.