Since Monday night, I have been doing a fabulous impression of a zombie. I came down with the flu, and like every other time I get sick, I *might* have been a little melodramatic.
I *might* have told Andrew, "This is the one that kills me. I just know it," to which he lovingly responded (while rubbing my back and fetching and carrying for me) with something like, "That's okay, go into the light. I'll catch a new wife with your stash."
In any case, when I'm sleeping, I'm incredibly suggestible. Meaning, if I fall asleep watching The West Wing, I dream I'm working for President Bartlet. This goes doubly for when I'm sick. If I'm watching the Food Network, I dream about cooking, and if the stupid TiVo flips over to a show with zombies in it, I have wicked awful zombie nightmares.
Recently, I've been watching a fair bit of Food Network, mostly because of Laura'nge, the Joy of Cooking Fairy. Good Eats, Chopped, Cupcake Wars, Ace of Cakes, and No Reservations are all on the TiVo. Mom happened to be watching No Reservations, which is a great show, whether you're lucid or not.
In my case, I have been falling asleep to a No Reservations marathon (thanks, Netflix Instant Watch!) - which is not a comment on Mr. Bourdain's charisma or content, more a comment on how utterly wiped out I have been. I have had dreams of incredible foods in incredible places I have yet to go, usually with Tony. This is odd, since my chef of choice would ALWAYS be Richard Blais. (I *heart* his mohawk! And his mad skillz in the kitchen. Molecular gastronomy is the next thing I try.)
In one of my fever dreams, I was in Eugene, Oregon (one of my favorite places in the whole world), picking beets off of trees next to a stream with Anthony Bourdain. I know that this is a deeply flawed dream, the first issue being that beets don't grow on trees. Chances are also good that they don't grow by streams. And that Anthony Bourdain wouldn't be using kitchen shears to cut them down, even if they DID grow on trees.
But who knows? Maybe in a world where beets grow on trees, I'll be cutting them down with Anthony Bourdain. In my dreams, at least.