Last week I put in my application for a booth at the S.C.A's annual Pensic war, and, sure enough, I had my annual Pensic dream. It's always the same, I'm at the booth with nothing to sell, or next to nothing to sell. This year had me making my stuffed animals from sheepskin instead of fake fur.

An African American woman who cleaned for my mother claimed to be able to predict the future with her dreams. She more than once predicted my marriage. But I'm still single.