rainy days and mondays always gets me down

well, not really, since i love rainy days. and mondays are nothing but sunday's tomorrows. and it is raining right now. a lovely, light downpour that cleans the air and dusts away the mind's cobwebs. except for i've taken today off from work since i awoke hacking and utterly exhausted from this cold.

so it is a day of rest and recuperation. at least.

i usually don't remember my dreams, but i do remember this one. gold medal olympic swimmer from back in the day and a local hereabouts sometimes mark spitz was expected to show at my work. there was a bit of a buzz thru out the office and my friend p. and i were given an old photo of spitz so we could recognize him. the pic dated from the 1970s when spitz was in his prime. he had his trademark moustache and a thick beard too and dressed in a lumberjack shirt. alex gildzen was with us and anxiously awaiting spitz arrival. and then. . .i don't know. i woke up and that's the end of the dream.

what does it mean? certainly alex is in my thoughts. and spitz? maybe it has something to do with watching make me a supermodel on the bravo channel last night. we watched the top 15 minutes before we turned the tv off. it seems so silly, such preening and ego-tripping just for the chance to prance around in clothes. which is quite unlike project runway which anna and i, or at least just me, have become reluctant fans. runway is about the development of the creative process and altho there's a lot of ego-tripping there too, the designers are using their minds and muscles to create ravishing works. if i don't understand those works, it is just as well. i'm sure the designers would scratch their heads over the poems i love.

but back to supermodel. the spitz connection just might be this: when i was in my early 20s i dated a girl whose hairdresser thought i, yes me, should become a model. so a session was arranged with mark spitz's sister who was/is a local modeling agent. instead of killing that idea dead as i should have right when it was brought up, i went to the session. and somewhere around here are a few contact sheets of me looking bewildered and utterly silly. i shit you not.

relating that story just brought on a hacking jag. now i need to cleanse the palate by watching cannibal holocaust and taking a long nap.