That's the title of my dear Amy's blog. Every time I go hang out at her place and see her page header, I always think, "Escape into my thoughts...yeah, and there ain't no way I'd let my peeps rummage around this noggin o' mine!"
I mean, come on...deep down inside we are all weird in some way or another. Some of us choose to fly our freak flags out in the open, brazenly unfurled. Yet others have their flags at half-mast, or even better, off the pole completely, folded and tucked away in a dark drawer.
My flag is usually at half-mast, to be honest. Most of you know by now that I'm an enormous Sci-Fi Geek of the highest power, and this admission brings me no shame. I don't mind revealing that I have a large amount of cheesy fluff on my iPod...easy listening goodness such as Barry Manilow, Little River Band, Neil Diamond, and Olivia Newton-John. Furthermore, I firmly believe that anyone who doesn't think The Goonies is one of the greatest works of film in the history of the medium should have their respective head examined.
This is all well and good. But then I feel an urge to let y'all in on the daily panderings of my train of thought. Actual thoughts which scroll through my brain. Such as today's offerings:
*Would Rufus Wainright agree to sing to me each night at bedtime if I paid him a handsome figure for his melodic services? I was meant to be lulled into slumber by the sound of his voice, live, performing "Poses." Seriously. When I'm a millionaire do not think I won't try to make this happen.
*Clearly the best cake mix on the market is Duncan Hines Butter Recipe Golden. Why doesn't the world accept this as fact and move beyond those pointless imitators named Betty Crocker and Store Brand?
*There are actual men and women walking around in this country, clueless as to the genius that is that hour of television known as Lost. It's very hard for me to love someone who doesn't love Lost. And why don't you love Lost? Lack of Lost fervor mystifies me in ways I cannot fully express here. There. I said it. You cannot imagine the weight that has been lifted off my shoulders. Sigh...
*Next time I see Lizzy (soon, baby--soon!) will we have time to watch Space Camp, Better Off Dead, the original Parent Trap, and Meet Me In St. Louis? Because this has to happen. It means that much to us.
*I miss Lawrence Welk. Deeply.
This makes me want to drink Tang and have some Jiffy Pop. In my footed pajamas. I am not remotely joking, either.
Yes...escape into my thoughts. I cannot make this stuff up, people. I cannot believe some of you are still reading at this point. OK, so go check out Amy's thoughts...they're Tang free.