Did you ever have one of those dreams where danger is imminent, yet you couldn't actually run away? It was like you were wading through molasses, your heart pounding, the two-headed demon gaining on you? Well okay, maybe your dreams are of normal predators, but I have many seasons of Buffy and Angel on dvd, so sue me.

Anyway, that's how I've been feeling every time I sat down to write an entry lately. There's all this building pressure to be smart and funny (ha ha funny, not weird) and insightful, because we're coming up to the con and more people than the usual three are going to be reading me, right? Right. Now don't get me wrong, I've been sitting in front of this "Add an entry" screen every bloody day since the last one hit the ether. My body is wholly committed to the process; my brain is apparently at the cottage.

I even convinced The Boy to spring for an MP3 player (not an iPod, but that's fodder for another entry right there!) with voice recorder capabilities so I could capture those little spurts of greatness that occur to me while in the middle of a left hand turn on an eight-lane freeway. Have I taken advantage of that wonderful little gizmo yet? Nope. It's as if my brain now knows that its random synapses are being tracked with the latest technology and it has decided that instead of allowing me to write better and longer entries, causing everyone to step back and reevaluate me (for the better, duh), it will turn to mush and leave me twisting in the wind.

So I'm left with telling you all about the fabulous Tazo chai I had yesterday, and how I narrowly escaped being ticketed by the rassin' frassin' Commissionaire just because I was feeding someone else's meter to be nice. I was totally lulled into a sense of civic duty by the warm soy milk and this guy reminded me in an unnecessarily snippy manner that I could be fined for that good deed. I burned up all the karma dollars in my account when I wished many boils and a rash on the guy as he stalked away.

Seriously, between his toes and in the one spot on your back you can never reach. More chai, please.

Posted at 6:39 p.m.