The Egg is gonna give this a try heading into the new year…
Let me know if it works for you!
During the pre-show at my local AMC theatre, an oft-run promo asks, “Do cell phones dream?” Personally, I want to know…
Do cell phone apps turn themselves on?
Sometimes my camera is open and pointed at my face (which can be scary when you’re not ready for it). Or the Seamless app is offering me restaurant choices to peruse. More often than not, Fandango is open to their current movie push ad, which I quickly skip.
(And we all know it doesn’t take much for me to decide that going to the movie is a very good idea.)
What is making these apps pop open? Is it something in the way I swipe? Simple chance? Or evil marketing genius at work?
If there are any app developers out there reading this blog — and if you are…really? —
I’d love to know.
Emma, I have seen your future, and you are a success!
Let me explain.
My brother recently posted this picture of his granddaughter Emma sporting reindeer antlers at her school’s Christmas concert. Her holiday headgear and mischievous smile reveal a lot — a fun-loving, entertaining youngest child.
No, I’m not talking about me (although as the baby of the family, I have been known to grab the spotlight from time to time). I mean Emma’s actual doppelganger.
I’ve met her.
She’s an MBA candidate at the Boston University School of Management. And when I showed her Emma’s photo, she was quick to agree that the two were kindred spirits.
Emma, you are in excellent company.
I had a dream last night, and it was a real Whoppler.
Wait for it.
In the dream, I was talking with friends I worked with back in the day in Lexington, Kentucky.
We’re talking over 20 years ago.
I can only assume that the NCAA tourney earlier this week has brought that time in my life to the forefront of my brain. But we weren’t talking about the Wildcats. No, we were all upset that we couldn’t find Whooplers in the local stores.
Even while the dream was taking place, I was thinking in the back of my mind…
“Don’t we really mean Whoopers?
But I couldn’t seem to express it.
So I woke up this morning with Whoppers on the brain. I hope I can find them in the local theatre. (That’s the only place I ever eat them.)
And I hope my Lexington friend Paul Fast is doing well. Because I dreamed about him last night.
I finished my Christmas shopping this morning. Bought the final gift online, picked a shipping date and sent it on its merry way.
It’s a great feeling.
But wouldn’t you know it? As soon as I crossed everyone’s name off my list, I discovered the perfect present for any hard-to-buy-for person. It’s another exciting Google search find:
According to the website, Lunar Embassy is the only company to possess the ‘legal basis and copyright’ for Lunar Land. It is available in a variety of packages, all which include one lunar acre of land. (The amount of documentation included drives the price.)
Our family draws names at Christmas, and as soon as the pairings are announced, the emails start flying, requesting gift ideas.
If only I had discovered Lunar Land even an hour sooner!
To the moon, Alice! — Ralph Kramden, The Honeymooners
I’ve spent a lot of time in the Dallas Fort Worth Airport over the years.
If I’m waiting for my flight home, you’ll most often find me — depending on my departure terminal — in Chili’s or Friday’s or near the closest electrical outlet.
Today my sister Lou and I killed a couple of hours in the Cowtown Bar in Terminal A. And I’m pretty sure…
It’s a portal back in time.
Let’s just say, it caught the eye.
The music mix also took us back. “Last Kiss” started playing — “Last Kiss!” I remember a group called Wednesday made a version of that song popular in 1974. It has literally been a decade since I’ve heard that song.
This was followed by other hits from long ago. I felt like I had fallen into a time warp.
Then a couple came into the restaurant with their three-year old daughter. She was the spitting image of actress Abigail Breslin (Little Miss Sunshine, No Reservations, Nim’s Island). I decided it was her.
Which convinced me — we had traveled back in time.
Tragically, I didn’t look any younger.
If you love all things shallow — as we do here at The Sticky Egg — plump up your couch cushions and get comfy.
Shallowness is being serenaded, crowned and presented with sparkly awards this weekend on TV.
It begins Saturday night with the 2011 Miss America pageant — LIVE from Vegas! — and wraps up on Sunday with the ever-entertaining Golden Globe Awards, hosted by Ricky Gervais.
If you think about it, these two programs are a lot alike.
Both get their fair share of criticism. Miss America because it’s a pageant, which many feel is an antiquated idea in this day and age with its swimsuit competition that displays the contestants’ “good health and fitness.”
And then, the Golden Globes, whose nominees are voted in by the Hollywood Foreign Press, which consistently selects those actors and projects who launch the most effective (translation: swaggeriffic) campaign.
Both programs also seem a bit dated. Miss America‘s production values have always been a tad behind the times — far less glitzy and polished than the Donald Trump-produced Miss USA and Miss Universe. And the Golden Globes still features a sit-down dinner at their show, which most other awards have abandoned due to the danger of mixing celebrities, alcohol and live television.
Personally, I’ve always found the folksiness of the Miss America broadcast to be part of its charm. I like making fun of the contestants and the show.
If it gets too slick, where’s the funny in that?
Same goes for the Golden Globes. The stars drinking at the show practically guarantees that something is going to go wrong on live television, which is way more interesting than the overly-produced Oscars.
So, pull up a chair — or your DVR — and watch all the beauty queens and movie stars put themselves out there for crowns and trophies. There will be tears. There will be joy.
And there’s bound to be a bobble or two — do you really want to miss that??
This morning, just before waking, I had a truly terrifying dream.
I was seated in a classroom. I don’t know what school or what class I was taking, but I felt I belonged there. Suddenly, a fellow student stood up and started pacing up and down the rows of desks, a rifle pointed menacingly forward.
I sat frozen as he stalked past me. As he headed toward the back of the room, I darted for the doorway and ran into the empty hallway. I kept running and jerked awake to complete safety.
What did it mean?
I have no idea. But I may have a chance to find out what this nightmare — and some of the recurring dreams I have had over the years — really mean with help from the Dream Doctor on Facebook.
Kelly Sullivan Walden is a Certified Clinical Hypnotherapist and the bestselling author of the book “I Had the Strangest Dream…The Dreamer’s Dictionary for the 21st Century.” If I friend her on Facebook, I can send her dreams to interpret.
And if I don’t hear back, I can just ask my friend GK what it meant (which is what I usually do).