wedding anxiety

Talk about a recurring dream you've had, or talk about your most vivid dream. What makes it stick in your memory?

The other night I had my first ever wedding anxiety dream. The dream began with the beginning of the wedding, which was in a large cathedral (odd thing number one.) I was a bit panicked because no one seemed to know what to do and everyone was arriving late. Also, I had mistakenly worn jeans instead of the pants that matched my tux. Luckily, a friend had a spare pair of pants, so I put those on. Then my shoes kept falling off, but Patty helped me fix them. Finally, the wedding began.

First, a very old lady led the group in the singing of some old Yiddish folk song. No one but her knew the words, so we all just hmmed and aahed, and it was very awkward for everyone.

Then the acting troupe -- annoyingly melodramatic Spartan-dressed thespians -- that we hired entered to perform the 'wedding play.' The lead actor announced that they'd be doing a short form of one of the plays of Euripides (you pay for deez, lol!) and then we told him, "no, no, do the one about the bears." He protested that they didn't know any plays about bears, but we convinced him to wing it. The troupe performed an awkwardly ad-libbed short play about bears ("hark! yon bear approaches!") and everyone present loved it. Sort of.

After the ceremony (my dream contained no chuppah, no ketubah, no glass-stomp), Rabbi Reeves came up to us and said that he was very upset with us for representing Judaism so poorly and that he didn't know if he could ever forgive us. Patty awoke me at that moment, and I was consumed with a feeling of terrible guilt all day.

almost busted for possession

Just now, I was almost pulled over for what must be a first.

As it is Purim, and the traditional foods are often "filled" things like kreplach and ravioli, I decided to go to Whole Paycheck to pick up some snooty pasta (no roller :( :() and cheese, including some real Parmigiana, which, as we all know, smells like the feet of angels. On the way back home, (picture me) rolling up Ponce, I did what any sane person would do with a hunk of parm sitting in the grocery bag on the passenger seat: I grabbed it at the red light, unwrapped it, and sat there with it in my hands up to my nose, deeply huffing and snorting.

I felt a little self-conscious at this point, so I looked around, and to my right there's a cop watching me, giving me the ol' squinty eye. (My windows are always down at this point because my A/C hardly works.) He rolled down his window and said "Hey! What do you have there?" and I turned a little red and showed him that it's cheese (or perhaps an enormous crack rock), and lifted up the grocery bag so he could see it. Meanwhile, the light has turned green and everyone starts honking behind us (or behind me anyways.) Finally he seemed satisfied that I was not coking up, slowly nodded at me and drove off.