I've had two--two--frightening dreams in which I was being ambushed by spiders, all kinds of spiders, in the past three days--including the one last night, in which under even more scary circumstances, I was fighting off the spiders with one of those Super-Soaker toys, filled with some kind of homemade poison, around an ancient swimming pool brimming with mossy, murky water and with the help of--get ready--the cast of St. Elmo's Fire...in character.

Apparently spiders are omens of good luck in dreams but seriously...let's just say I don't enjoy dreaming about spiders and would rather just rub a fucking rabbit's foot.

Nothing much to report here from Las Vegas except that if anyone ever gets tired of calling me Amanda or Mandy, Superliver might be a fitting replacement.