According to The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Wicca and Witchcraft, December’s moon is the Oak or Long Night Moon. In some places, the moon holds reign because night time hours surpass daytime hours—and I know, that’s only if you’re in the Northern Hemisphere, but Idiot’s Guides aren’t likely to be read south of the equator, right? Okay, that kinda bothered me because “skeptic-logical me” came out to play.

My interpretation of what you’re supposed to do in December with all those hours of night? Fuck. A lot. And yeah, get things you’ve been promising yourself to do around the house done so you will be ready to start a bright shiny New Year.

Today, I probably won’t get a lot of writing done. I have to pick up those newly hemmed “booty jeans” from the tailor shop and get my nails done. And I have to start getting those guest blogs loaded so you’ll have a good reason to keep coming here while I’m gone.

I have to tell you about my dream. Last night, I was in Antonio Banderas’s arms. Antonio was a con man with a partner, and they were working a con in a bad part of New York. I went along while he played cards, mainly because I had a bad feeling and wouldn’t let him out of my sight. Well, someone drew a gun. The partner. And things went to hell. The game was happening in the back of a laundromat. The partner and Antonio put the other players into the washing machines to torture information out of them. Picture all those nude men with slick skin, wet hair and eyelashes, and suds sticking to their skin. I thought, damn I better not wake up now. But one of them drowned.

We had to run, change our names, and Antonio had to start a new con which involved essential oils for erotic purposes and which he demonstrated on me in front an audience. Can you imagine trying not to come when AB has slippery, oily fingers you-know-where? I wanted to cuss a blue streak when my electric blanket clicked and I woke up. Wonder what it all meant…