Psychoanalyzing, anyone?

I woke up this morning dreaming that I had traveled back in time with Angelines to when I was a baby. My mom was giving the baby me a bottle and then I sat down on my mom's lap and started feeding baby Viola...all the while, cooing to my baby self in Spanish. What do you think this means?

I feel like this is the kind of dream psychoanalysts would LOVE--feeding inner child? Reconciling my English-speaking past with my Spanish present? I think there's a lot of room for interpretation.

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Today is Friday and I've gotten up "early" (9:00 am) to do some work before the day takes over and I'm left reeling and wondering how I've frittered away (to use Thoreau's words) my time. As you can see, I'm off to a good start! I guess I consider the time I'm eating, lost time anyway, so here I sit multi-tasking with a bowl of steaming oatmeal before me.

I wanted to send the promised pictures. Although perhaps you don't particularly care about my weekend purchases, the pictures make my posts more interesting in my opinion. So here is a nearly perfect picto-graphic explanation of my weekend (note the blanket is for our favorite football team):

Mentioning Thoreau, I just remembered that Walden Pond is in Massachusetts which is where I'm headed in just two weeks. Yeah...it's a long story, but basically I had airline credits that I had to use before March and to make the most of my money, I've decided to go to the East Coast to visit my dearest Miriam and not home for the one week of vacation I have now in Feb. Besides, I'm planning a trip out West for the end of June. Don't you worry, I'm sure I'll see most of you.

As I was saying, just remembered that this famous bit of American literature is right there in MA. and coming from CA. I tend to think EVERYTHING is nearby in a state the size of Massachusetts. ;) It does happen to be on the other side of the state from where Miriam is studying. But as I was looking at the map I saw Amherst right there in the middle and guess what? That's Emily Dickinson's hometown! So this might just be shaping up to be a tour through American literature's past. Honestly, sounds like my kind of tour. ...And of course we can't forget Ralph Waldo Emerson is another big name from MA.

Well, my oatmeal's been finished for a while now. I guess that means I should leave you all.

TGIF!