Today's illustrious band:

Three Mood Ring Circus

Brought to you by me and my busy weekend, with thanks to WhoSEZ.

WhoSEZ and I had a dinner date last Friday. On my way to meet her, I passed an interesting-looking store (Patina, in case you're wondering) and was reminded that hey, my dining companion had had a birthday a few weeks ago, and this would be a good place to pick up a quick gift. I went in and found several fun things, including a selection of mood rings.

Remember mood rings? The ones my friends and I owned as young 'uns in the 70s featured big domed ovals whose opalescent "gemstones" would change color according to the wearer's mood — or according to how warm our fingers made the substance inside the dome, depending on level of sophistication. Yeah, the "silver" band always caused a little color change on our fingers, too. Green as I recall. Post-millennial mood rings are much sleeker in design, but no less groovy, than their ancestors. Nowadays the mood matrix encircles the whole band. Mine is a lovely cobalt color this morning, which I believe means I'm in a warm and friendly mood.

It was a busy, busy weekend, including 2 dinners out with friends, 4 separate workouts and a learning experience involving a Rug Doctor and some very heavy furniture. Inspired by the gunk Neighbor Nadene and her cleaning machine picked up at my house a few weeks ago, and by Mother Media's impending state visit, I decided to shampoo the carpets at Sensational Acres this weekend. This meant moving most of the furniture to uncarpeted areas (i.e. the kitchen, transforming it from small to miniscule) and piling smaller items on top of the bed, dresser, couch and other immovables. Only THEN did I remember that I needed to put aluminum foil under the legs of the unmoved furniture so the wet carpet didn't cause the furniture finish to leech down and leave stains. So I had to lift all four corners of the big items, with the extra stuff piled on top, and maneuver the foil under the legs. And I still had to do the actual shampooing, which involved hauling lots and lots of water between Rug Doctor and tub. And then I needed to clean the tub so I could bathe in it so I could go out to eat again.

Remarkably, I could still move on Sunday morning. I took all that excess energy and worked out a couple more times, then moved all the furniture back out of the kitchen to its rightful places. And if you're wondering how gross the post-shampooing Rug Doctor water was . . . it was pretty darn gross. And if you're wondering how tired I am this morning, I'm pretty darn tired.

But enough about me. Let's talk about you. I'd like to share with y'all another of the gifts I picked up on Friday. It's a game, taught to me by WhoSEZ, to be played in five stages. It's very simple and will only take about 30 seconds each day, so be a sport and play along. Here's how it works: Each day this week I'll suggest a scenario. Thoughtfully consider or write down what it makes you think of. Keep your answers private until next Monday, when I'll deliver the whys and wherefores. If you've played a game like this before, please avoid talking strategy with people who haven't. Got it?


The Game: Day 1 instructions:
1. Imagine a desert landscape. Nothing but sky and sand.
2. Imagine a cube in this landscape. What does it look like? What's it made of? Where is it?

OK, you're done. More tomorrow.