K.M. Jackson

Yes I’m on break and yes, I’m here too. Told you I would be in and out and this bit I just had to put in though you might shrug your shoulders and think, eh. I still think it’s blog worthy.. ish.

I just woke up from a dream and felt the need to share it here. Don’t think I’ve shared my odd dreams here before. Hmm..

Well, there I was in small little crafty circle, but in said circle there was only 3 of us. Strange, a down number from my usual 6. One woman was a nubie to the group. A friend and blogger though not much of a commenter here and I don’t think a crafter so you won’t recognizer her and the other woman who was playing the part of my good friend, lots of you do know her, changed and was not herself but Gwyneth Paltrow. Yep, actress and I can cook chicken and potatoes, Gwyneth in a cool asymmetrical top and no apron and not spill on myself Gwyneth, from this post.

Isn’t that strange?

Well, it gets stranger. We were quite dressed up. In a very tiny kitchen. Well a tiny nook of a large kitchen were everything has its place. And everything is French and perfect.
Could that be the influence of reading Julie and Julia? Or could it be my long obsession with getting a Le Creuset pot? Shrug.

Here it gets weirder. We’re not even knitting in this odd tiny, organized, pretty, French nook but we’re sewing and by hand. Why? I don’t know. They are small white projects that fit neatly in our hands. I do know that.

Then Gwyneth’s husband walks in and it’s not cutie Chris Martin. I know Weird again!

But some out of the 1960’s lawyer looking dude. Here I blame the Mad Men influence.

Did I tell you we are all dressed in early 60’s style but still could fit for now housewife comfort attire? I did, right.

So… the not Chris Martin hubby ask Gwyneth what style of sewing machine she has because his business associate wants to buy one for his wife and Gwyneth knows all the best things to get as she is PERFECT. Gwyneth rattles off a French named machine that I’m not sure exists but in my dream is top line and very expensive.

And as I’m sewing by hand I’m thinking 2 things.

1. That machine is a boatload of money.
2. It’s a piece of crap.
3.Why the hell are we sewing by hand if she has it?
4. My Kenmore machine is just as good!
5. Why is Gwyneth supposedly so perfect?

Ok so a lot more than 2 things. But I don’t say anything. I watch as not Chris Martin takes the info back to his associate after he kisses perfect Gwnyeth. Then I suddenly start to despise my Kenmore for not being French and sleek and perfect.

After that it’s time for lunch and me and the other blogger/mom leave the tiny nook and follow Dream Gwyneth over to the hugest fridge ever (did I tell you it talks? dream weird). Well in the fridge everything has it’s place (I see a theme here). And then Dream Gwyneth teaches us to make the perfect grilled cheese sandwiches with some sort of hunky bread, leafy lettuce and hard, briny, smelly cheese that you had to whack off with a big knife.

Blasphemy! Now you tell me how that is better than a diner grilled cheese with bacon which we all know is God’s perfect food?

So themes? Thoughts? Care to analyze? Have at it.

My thoughts. Poor Gwyneth is a just a place holder for what I’m being a bit resentful of at the moment also maybe aspiring to. Order, french cooking, cute rocker/business type hubbies that think I do just everything perfectly and also the ability to fit in tiny little nooks. Yeah, that space was pretty small. Or maybe it was all just a dream and full of crap.

Best,
Kwana

P.S. In defence of Gwyneth. I was hanging out on Goop.com her space on the web after writing this and we really do think alike in some things. She just finished the CLEAN which I’m reading and she have the cutest picture of Prince up there. Swoony. Besides that she likes Jay Z. So there.