Tag: McDonalds

When a throw away comment leads to a house full of penguins

This weird thought came after talking to a friend of mine this week, whom I won’t name. I will change some details of the story. This is quite a sensitive topic.

This friend, let’s call her, Geraldine, told me about how she once owned an object from a certain well-known establishment that serves food and drink, and a relative of hers saw this object, assumed my friend, Geraldine, frequented that establishment, and has since given her further objects and vouchers from there. She still has a load of them. She hardly ever goes there. She doesn’t like what they sell, not enough to go there a lot anyway. Let’s say it is McDonalds for the sake of argument. It isn’t, by the way. We laughed about how many McDonalds vouchers she has.

So after hearing this story I thought about all the coffee-table art reference books I have and the penguins another friend of mine accumulated under a mistaken belief by a family member that she liked them. What I want to know is, have we all, at one time or other, mentioned in passing to a family member or friend that we ‘quite like china pigs in dresses’ only to find that on all subsequent birthdays and Christmasses, all we get from said family member or friend is china pigs in cute dresses? Or perhaps we once declared, ‘I need more scarves in my life’ and now we have a wardrobe full of them, unworn?

Aren't they lovely?

Aren’t they lovely?

My husband, for a while, received lots of cook books because when he cooks a meal, he properly cooks, and friends and family noticed this. He  doesn’t just cook an old favourite meal when we entertain; he cooks up something new and elaborate. We now have a lot of cookbooks. He likes cookbooks. But he doesn’t cook very often so the amount of cookbooks we own does not correlate well with the use we get out of them. Of course, they are useful for when he does cook, but mostly they gather dust.

I’m infamous for my preference for Terry’s chocolate orange. As a consequence every Christmas I get tonnes of them, and bags of segments, and all sorts of chocolate orange related gifts. They do get eaten and used, eventually. I’m not ungrateful at all. I’m amused (and feeling fat all through January).

My kitchen cupboard on Boxing Day

My kitchen cupboard on Boxing Day

Perhaps I need to tell people that I like coffee. If so, I might start getting vouchers for Starbucks or Costa, or even better, my favourite cafe in the whole world at the moment: Ginger & Co.

In fact, this phenomena could be turned into a tactic. If I were to tell one friend I like coffee, another I wear Dr Marten boots, a third that I love book vouchers, a fourth that I’m partial to a bit of red wine now and then, I could be on to a winner.

Come on friends, pay attention, read this blog. I love a nice Merlot and there are no other boots. I could also do with some red velvet shoes. I don’t know why, I just want some.

Red Velvet Shoes - yes please.

Red Velvet Shoes – yes please.

I have a theory about dreams

A bunch of scientists believe that there are infinite (or finite) possible universes. They disagree on some of the finer details but they unite in their belief that there is more than what we see. This is the idea of the multiverse or meta-universe (seems a bit of a contradiction to me given that uni- means one).  These multiverses contain everything that exists: time, space, energy and stuff. Some science fiction writers like to imagine that there are parallel universes and we can dip in and out of them if we so choose. I do too believe that. I am sure they exist.

How do I get to the nearest parallel universe from here?

How do I get to the nearest parallel universe from here?

Last night I had a weird dream. In this dream I was in the United States and I was due to fly back home via Paris. In this dream, travellers kept their passport and money in a McDonald’s disposable cup full of sand which they buried beneath a designated static caravan. This cup was kept buried until shortly before departure. In my dream I was about to return home. When I came to locate my cup containing my passport and money I found the passport and money to be missing. This meant that getting home would be rather difficult. In the dream, this scenario seemed completely normal and acceptable. I believed that someone must have found my cup and stolen my passport and money. Upon waking, the dream scenario appeared absurd and surreal.

This is where I buried my passport and money

This is where I buried my passport and money

So my weird thought, which came shortly later, runs thus: are dreams actually visits by our subconscious to a parallel universe? Is there a universe where a traveller really does  need to bury his or her passport and money in sand in a McDonald’s disposable cub below a designated static caravan? Why not? Perhaps that is completely normal somewhere. Or are dreams just a succession of images, ideas, emotions and sensations that occur involuntarily in the mind during certain stages of sleep? If so, what on earth made me dream that dream?

Who stole my passport and money out of my cup?

Who stole my passport and money out of my cup?

Believing in the teeny, tiny possibility theory I’d like to think that dreams are the former.

One thing is for certain, next time I go to that universe I’m going to make sure I bury my cup deeper.