Last night I dreamed of a child; a very young child. I knew it was a dream, even as I went through the motions of action in the dream. Knowing this while in the dream made it all no less discomfiting as I proceeded through it.

In the dream, I awakened with the child in my arms. She—I knew it was a she even without looking—was a newborn, eyes tightly shut. In my dream-sleep I had been mulling over names, repeating combinations and trying to find one that fit.The child never moved. She slept soundly, unaware of the fuss being made over her, only her clenched fist and face showing above the white blanket she was draped in.

"Victoria Alexandra," I said to the woman sitting beside my bed. "Call her Alexa until she grows into the name."

The woman beside me—whom I believe was intended to serve as my mother in the dream—snorted. "Are you trying to name a queen, with a name like that?"

Now, let me turn that on its head.

I've been listening to a lot of classic Motown lately. I have no explanation for why that's what I've wanted to hear lately.

But one of the albums I've been digging through lately is Stevie Wonder's Songs in the Key of Life. I love the title, and I loved his explanation for it—look it up sometime.I think most everyone probably likes the most well-known track, "Isn't She Lovely." But I have a particular affection for the song "As"—its gospel-influenced give and take, its cheerful hyperbole.

It's a good song when you're thinking about your spouse on the day before Valentine's Day…

"Did you know that true love asks for nothing
Her acceptance is the way we pay
Did you know that life has given love a guarantee
To last through forever and another day

Just as time knew to move on since the beginning
And the seasons know exactly when to change
Just as kindness knows no shame

On what I have left to do for geekfest 2.0, which begins tomorrow:

Recipient (Divide By Zero):
>Probably. After dinner tonight I'll scrub down the kitchen, and then mop the
>floor. Then I've gotta clean the bathroom. Tomorrow morning I'll put fresh
>sheets on the guest bed (for Brad) and on the sofa bed (for Brian and Suzan)
>and then I'll be good to go.

*** Message (#7) from Divide By Zero at 18:40 ***
>you're a beastie. You know that, right?

Recipient (Divide By Zero):
>?

*** Message (#9) from Divide By Zero at 18:41 ***
>a holy terror of domesticity. a primal force of hostessing. a grizzled
>combat veteran of the war of playing house.

So much to do.
But Dan's right. I do love this. Given the choice between this life and what I had before—living in a town where I knew no one and had no friends—I will take this. No questions asked.

Everyone keeps asking, what’s it all about?
I used to be so certain and I can’t figure out
What is this attraction?
[duncan sheik]

Welcome back. Life returns, the friends go home, the cats relax, and my fingers start tapping almost of their own accord. They make it clear that whether I want to or not, it's time to start writing again—not because I should but because I must.

"And I could stand here waiting
A fool for another day
But I don’t suppose it’s worth the price, worth the price
The price that I would pay"
[d.s.]

Put the music on. Don't turn on the light. Listen to the cats in the next room, industriously tussling each other in brotherly fashion. Despite the fact that no one is here but me, I attempt to physically hide the fact that I am writing—because, of course, if no one knows I'm writing, no one will know to ask me whether or not I was able to finish what I started.

If you haven't read it yet, you should wander over to a list apart and read their article on the current state of the web.