The most bizarre dream I've ever had

How fantastic to no longer wonder whether Earth's creatures are alone.

Aliens recently made contact with Earth, and my mother and I were chosen as ambassadors to their planet.

Now we are millions of miles from home, preparing for landing. But something goes very wrong. My mother and I exchange worried looks and crash to the foreign land.

Stunned, we step unharmed from the wreckage, and wreckage it is _ crumbled and smoking on the vast, barren landscape.

It looks like we'll be staying longer than expected.

The aliens, nearly twice our height, come hulking toward us. Their translucent skin and hairless, naked bodies are off-putting. It doesn't take long for us to realize that they are not to be our friends. They glare at us and put their long bony fingers on our faces. We are frightened but must go with them.

Next we find ourselves locked in a room _ surely a holding area as they decide what to do with us.

We don't plan to stay long enough to find out. I begin to gather materials and tools to repair our ship. Mom tries to help.

Soft voices and fumbling interrupt us. We're not the only ones in here after all

We turn a corner and find Jerry Seinfeld and Cosmo Kramer, characters from a popular sitcom back on Earth, planning their getaway, as well.

"I've got to take my stuff, Jerry," Kramer says.

"OK, OK," Seinfeld replies. "Grab a box from that cupboard."

Kramer does so, opens a full bag of Lays potato chips and begins dumping them into the box.

"What are you doing?!" Seinfeld says.

"I've got to have my chips, Jerry. I've got to."

"All right!" Seinfeld says. "But we'll have to put other things in that box, so they'll just have to get crushed."

We don't approach them. Their bungling will only slow us down. We slink back around the corner unnoticed, and my mother begins packing a box with duct tape and Frisbees.

"What are you doing?!" I echo Seinfeld's words.

"I need all this," she says, hopeful.

"Mom, you can't possibly need a dozen Frisbees and three rolls of duct tape. Just take one each."

She reluctantly agrees, and we're back on track. I've got everything I need to fix the ship. Now we have to figure out how to get past the aliens.

I have just enough time to fire off a quick text message to a capable friend on Earth in case my mechanical skills falter: "Big mistake. They're not friendly. Ship's busted. Dire situation. Send help."

That is how the dream ended. I'll let you know if more REM time provides a conclusion to this madness.

Hello

It seems appropriate to make my first entry about saying hello _ a seemingly simple act that is apparently becoming more difficult for a couple minor players in my world.

It began with a security guard on the bottom floor of my building, a man I see a couple times a week, give or take. I do not know this man, but I figure we can at least exchange a courteous hello when I sign into the building on weekends and no one is around but the two of us. The silence is piercing in the high-walled, marble setting. It's more difficult to not say hello.

The last time I saw this man (let's call him Emanuel), I said "Hello," and he sat there quietly, avoiding eye contact. To which I responded with a "harrump" noise and then, "unbelievable," all the while shaking my head in bewilderment and disapproval.

My bout with discourtesy did not end there, my friends. It continued today on an even more maddening level. I walked into the office, which was staffed by one other coworker. I walk by his desk and say, "Hello," but he sits there, staring at his computer in silence. I was so irked that I actually took my handbag, wound up the old arm and slammed it on the desk with a crash.

He looks over, "Are you mad at me?!"

"No," I reply, aloof.

"Who are you mad at?"

"No one."

"Well, I'm here for you," is his sarcastic reply.

So, hello to my friends and the blogosphere. My plan for this is to post something too funny, interesting or irritating to keep to myself. Sneak preview for next time _ I recently had a dream set in space that involved my mother, Seinfeld and Kramer. Just think of the soundtrack possibilities.