To sleep perchance to walk upright

Sometimes a good night's sleep is better than sex. Sometimes you crave sleep more than sex. Ever happened to you? It's been happening to me especially since I threw my back out. If you don't miss someone till they're gone, then I firmly believe you don't appreciate what you have till you can't use it anymore. Case in point the ability to walk upright. Never thought much of it since I mastered the ability to walk as a wee lass. Not until I compacted a few thoracic disks from lifting a heavy garage door. My back seizes up and I can't seem to walk upright. I try to stand tall but both back and hip seem locked in an abnormal position. And it isn't a pretty one.

Chiropractic helps, as does my stiff office chair. Sleep does not, which is odd since I look so foward to resting my aching back and stressed out legs. But sleep evades me like a boyfriend after boy's night out. I begin to realize I feel better OUT of bed than in it. Forsoothe! The luxurious sanctuary of my bedroom has begun to bring agitation rather than pleasure. I begin fantasizing about falling into a deep sleep, my back restoring itself after 8 hours of healing torpor.

Then I make a decision. I'm giving up my pillowtop Vera Wang Serta mattress for a firmer, more back friendly posturpedic. Yup, I've swapped comfort and indulgence for, well, a healthy back. To anyone I ever mocked for sleeping on a firm bed, I humbly rescind my words. A firm bed is the bomb! for my back, that is.

So now that my back is back, I'm back to thinking of better things, like sex...

The God Daughter

About a year ago I blogged on the magical conception and birthing of my neice - Sophia. Here she is a year later, green-gray eyes! hair now curly and 6 teeth and counting. Her mother strongly believes in bonding her to her fairy Godmothers so they both visited for a weekend. Here's a rundown of events.

Friday night: After 6 hours of driving in traffic the girls arrive at 11:00 pm. Duke slobbers over Sophia (or was it the other way around?) and after a few minutes of playtime she's ready for a nap.

Saturday: Sophia sleeps in till 7:30! We eat bagels and while I run errands Sophia takes a nice long nap. We take Duke and Sophia to the park and wear both of them out with an hour's walk. Sophia naps while Radha and I sip cocktails and have some adult time. All three of us girls dress for dinner and head over to La Cibeles. We are met by all the male waiters who are utterly charmed by Sophia. She spends a few quality minutes with each of them, blaring her green eyes to the helpless males. Our friend Barb & Lou join us for dinner and are convinced Sophia looks just like Halle Berry's daughter Nahla. After grawing on a few chicken fingers she falls promptly asleep until we get home.

At home I spread a deck of cards in front of her (the very same ones I read for her mother 2 years ago). She picks 6 cards so I spread the core of a Celtic Cross for her. Not surprisingly, she is one mighty woman, old souled and with a destiny as majestic as it is beautiful. Every woman should have a destiny as promising. And I must say, every woman does if she chooses.

Sunday: Radha makes us Crab Cakes Benedict. Yuuuummmm! But Sophia, on the brink of welcoming new teeth has decided New Jersey is just not fun anymore. Radha packs them up and off they head back to Maryland. As I tidy the house I find one lone booty sock on guest bedroom floor. All the remains of my God Daughter's visit.

Don't Let Your Sun Go Down on Me.

Hugely amused these days by the Jimmy Dean breakfast commercials. Can't help but being tickled by the portrayal of galactic powerhouses played by intentionally weak and sissified humans.

The premise of each commercial is the Sun, channeled by an Opie-reminiscent actor, boosting his fellow planets and other atmospheric entities through their cycles via the fuel only a Jimmy Dean breakfast can provide. The Rainbow lacks color, the Moon is crescent when he should be full. Fog is surly and clouds up the kitchenette.

The most recent ad is clutch-your-stomach hilarious. Setting: gray carpeted office. The sun stands proudly amidst the galaxy. The planets totter & stumble through their eliptical cycle as if drunken or in a weakened stupor.

Mars, the warrior planet is played by balding man who lists his rotund crimson belly off it's epicenter. Now we know Mars is volatile and was prone to volcanic activity, however we're pretty sure it never tumbled off it's planetary axis. This Mars does and rolls onto his so-not-warrior ass.

Neptune, a kindly looking guy-next-door, resplendant in his light blue sphere streaked with ribbons of white, bumps into a table and skids to the floor. Accordingly to astrology Neptune represents spirituality, mysticism, and ideals. Neptune also covers the misfits of society. Ah, say no more.

Jupiter, second only to the Sun in galatic and astrological fire power, stands in the corner facing a wall.

Of the planets, only Earth and Venus are cast as women. Venus hugs a potted plant. Not quite what you would expect from the planet of Love and Beauty. While Earth looks confused and stalled in her rotation.

My favorite is the avuncular actor portraying Mercury. Barely 5 feet tall, the guy looks like an uncle I might meet at a Church meeting rather than the messenger of the Gods on feather light wings.

Of course it all turns out well. The sun feeds his cronies a breakfast sandwich and as quick as you can say Gravitational Pull the planets are right as rain.

I'm so glad the folks at Jimmy Dean are sticking to simple planetary events. Imagine their re-enactment of Black Hole Sun or Saturn Return?

View it.