They never die, they just go to sleep one day

Completed my first week at the new job. Cause for celebration? Sure, why not. I think I'll get a tattoo to commemorate the occasion. What should it be of, though? I have no idea, so let's scrap the tattoo idea. Maybe I'll just celebrate with a thumbs-up to myself in the mirror. That should do the trick.

My neck, thank Thor, has been feeling markedly better over the last 24 hours. It's a little stiff right now, but compared to the state it was in, I'll take it. I half expected every movement upon waking this morning to be rife with excruciating pain. Glad it wasn't the case. This whole mess has made it clear to me that I need to get back into doing yoga, and soon. But will I? Stay tuned.

Had an interesting dream last night that was sexy and disconcerting. I'll be brief about it, so don't bother grabbing for that bottle of Pepto Bismol. The dream began with me on a bus heading somewhere with a bunch of strangers, two women I know who are best friends, and my father. Before we got on the bus, the two women, who will be referred to as Flava and Flav, indicated to me that they wanted to do things with me that mere friends never do. I was fine with that, inherent complications aside, and proceeded to make out with both of them at various intervals on the bus. In between sessions, I noticed my father was standing by the doors in the middle of the bus (they were just like the ones up front). I was worried that he was going to fall out. He thought it was a big joke and cranked the doors open. For a brief moment he held on, laughing like a ten year old, before he was sucked out onto the highway. I thought he was a goner, but he managed to land on his feet and find his way to safety. I beckoned the driver to turn around and collect my father. I remember thinking that the reason he did what he did was because he rebelling against aging. It wasn't a pleasant thought.

The dream then shifted to me petting Mandy, the dog of my youth, at an unknown location. She was on the verge of death and, like I've done in so many other similarly-themed dreams concerning her, I scolded myself for not giving her any attention in her last days. When I was needed most, I wasn't present. She looked so old and in so much pain. I wept over my sin and my inability to make matters right.

Then, inexplicably, I found myself with the people from the bus at a large house attending a party. I went outside with my two lady friends and we sent up a tent. Apparently, we weren't too interested in the party, because we didn't leave the tent for the rest of the dream. We didn't have sex, but it was still a fun time. That's where the dream ended.

So I lied about making the retelling of the dream brief. Sorry about that. My intentions were good, but you know what they say about good intentions.

The Celtics lost their game last night. They have yet to win a game on the road in the playoffs, which is a bad, bad sign. Championship-caliber teams win on the road. If the C's manage to pull off a game 7 win tomorrow at the Garden, something they are capable of doing, I won't have much confidence that they'll be able to get past Detroit. You never know, though. It's the playoffs and anything can happen.

I was watching a great documentary on Ram Dass last night. It's about his recovery from a severe stroke and how it's shaped his view of spirituality. There was a touching segment with a married couple explaining how a letter from Ram Dass helped them cope with the loss of their 11 year old daughter. The wife read the letter and it was an amazing piece of work. It dealt frankly about what their daughter's death meant. It was tough and gentle. And it brought tears to my eyes. Even if the rest of the documentary is rubbish, it'll still be worth it based on that letter. I advise you to check it out if you can. If you subscribe to Netflix, you can view it for free online. It's called Ram Dass: Fierce Grace. It's definitely helped put my own issues into perspective.

Ok, I'm going for a run and I can't take you with me. Afterwards, I'm going to meet up with Mara and we're going to go on a walking tour of Somerville's outdoor art. We even have a map. Should be fun.