My friend Stephanie is a charter member and the president of the Most Beautiful Girls in the World Club. The club's rich and storied history began back in the day when it was formed by Stephanie and a friend of hers. The other founder relinquished her membership when she and Stephanie drifted apart, but I'd like to believe she is heading up a satellite chapter somewhere.
Well, yesterday Stephanie invited me to join.
Forget the Junior League, the Daughters of the American Revolution, the Guardsmen or the Hair Club for Men, this is a truly top drawer organization. Where else can members showcase their poise, talent, brilliance and beauty inside and out? Not to mention driving boys crazy. Needless, to say, I graciously accepted the invitation.
Personally, I believe I will make a very good member.
I began this post with that egotistical bit of whimsy so I could ease you in before I unleashed the tale of my rather disturbing dream. A co-worker of mine recently wrote on her blog about how well she analyzes dreams, but I don't think I'll be asking her to interpret this one. Last night, or rather early this morning, I dreamt about... wait for it.... incontinence! More specifically, I had an incontinent housemate who seemed oblivious to his condition. Plus, the incontinence was contagious. Thankfully, I managed to skirt the ailment, but only barely. And all this played out with the English Beat's Special Beat Service album serving as the soundtrack. I'd like to believe the Beat became part of my hallucination because I'm going to see Dave Wakeling next week and not because their music subconsciously reminds me of bodily functions.
Ick, all the way around.
At least I have all day to shake the dream off, and then tonight Ann Marie and I are going to see the Beautiful South at the Fillmore. I have only seen them twice and the last time was over six years ago. So yippee!!!