FRANK: Man, I had some crazy dreams last night. There were these people, and they were terrorizing us, and they messed up our carpet.
SARAHK: Were they called… pets?
FRANK: Man, I had some crazy dreams last night. There were these people, and they were terrorizing us, and they messed up our carpet.
SARAHK: Were they called… pets?
Here’s the deal. I may have been glutened, I may have a corn or lactose problem. Lactose is very likely, considering that gluten bigots like me commonly have problems with lactose until they’re all healed up. It’s hard for me to say, because every day that I’ve had lactose recently (no milk, but other dairy products — I strictly use Almond Breeze almond “milk” for any milk needs, including in baking), I’ve also had corn. I’ve thought before that I might be corn sensitive, and I’m almost sure I’m sensitive to milk, but occasionally I have yogurt, cheese, cream, etc. without issues.
I’ve also had Starburst the last few days. Starburst fruit chews say right on the bag that they’re gluten-free. Yet they contain dextrin, which can be made from wheat. Googling left me as unsure as pre-Googling about Starburst’s dextrin. I could call M&M/Mars, there’s a thought.
I’m staying on milk for now and leaving out corn in all situations to see if I still have the problems off corn.
Anyway, back to the last couple of days. Yesterday I was so worried over my Papa (maternal grandfather) that I spent half the day crying and praying and the other half of the day sick over the Minnesota bridge collapse. And a tiny piece of one of those halves went to incredible annoyance over something completely unrelated.
It took me a long time to get to sleep last night. Usually it takes less than twenty minutes. I read, my eyes start closing at will, I put the book down, and I fall asleep as soon as I turn onto my side. Last night, no reading, but I went to bed around two. I didn’t read because Frank was already in bed (I was still eating my dinner of popcorn and Louisiana hot sauce when he hit the sack) and can’t get to sleep unless he’s snuggling me (awwww), so I didn’t want to turn the light on or even open my book light. I’m thoughtful.
I dreamt this morning that I was a Harry Potter character, and Lord Thingy had set lizards on me. When I woke up, I was yelling and gasping. Frank said, “What’s wrong? What’s wrong?” I remember responding, “It was… Voldemort! He put… lizards all over me, and they were attacking me!”
Normally, I wake up once, and I’m wide awake. After my lizard dream, I peed and went back to sleep (don’t worry, I peed in the bathroom, not the bed).
And even though I got eight or nine hours of sleep, I was completely useless all day. I did manage to make it to the vet’s office for dog food and Wild Oats for natural soda, but wow. I didn’t feel like working, blogging, anything. I just sat on the couch.
I did blog a chapter in Deathly Hallows, but I couldn’t even finish my post.
I felt better after my shopping and was even able to make bread, crab cakes, asparagus, and a fantastic sauce to go over the crab cakes and asparagus. So maybe I’m okay now. But I was totally fatigued all day today.
Normally, that’s strictly gluten when I have fatigue. The only thing I can think of is the Starburst.
Anyway, I think I’m back. I’ll have more Harry Potter chapters up soon. Plus other blogging, too. I’m not just a one-trick pony, peeps.
It’s not the first time it’s happened. It’s the first time I’ve dreamed about this particular blogger. I dreamed about the lovely Miss tracey last night. I don’t remember a whole lot about it. I do remember that she had called me to tell me some good news (I don’t remember what the news was, but it had to do with being in youuu-tah right now). As one of those, “Oh, and how are you” things right before we were going to get off the phone, tracey asked how things are going with the house. “So? Any offers on the house yet?” And I broke down crying and told her the house isn’t on the market yet and basically unloaded on her.
Hahaha. Poor tracey. Then she said — readers of her site will LOVE that she said this in my dream — tracey said, “It’s ok, SarahK. Aunt Tee Tee is here for you. You let it all out.”
And then I woke up, laughed, and read some Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets.
It’s actually a little like a phone call I had with Essay last night. She called to tell me about a shopping victory she had, and as soon as we finished celebrating together, I completely vented to her about my sister’s situation and all the crap she’s going through. Essay was very understanding. And then at the end, I was like, “But congratulations on your shopping victory! I’ll talk to you tomorrow!”
Yikes. How people put up with me…
Yes, so I awoke this morning dreaming about paint, paint, and painting. What I remember of the dream is that Richmond was here at the house with us, helping with the painting. And Richmond was pulling the blue painter’s tape off of walls or baseboards or whatever. And, not able to find a trash bag quickly enough to throw the tape in, Richmond had flushed a giganto-ball of painter’s tape down the toilet in the master bathroom. I had found this when I had gone into the master bathroom and flushed the toilet for no reason. Just flushed the toilet… and subsequently flooded the entire master bathroom. Then I reached my entire arm into the toilet and pulled out strand after strand of this ball of tape, as they show tapeworms being pulled from bodies on television. Yes. Blue tapeworm paint, me pulling it from the toilet.
At that point, I went into a rage and started screaming at Richmond that you NEVER flush painter’s tape down the master bathroom toilet. Only the guest room toilet is equipped to handle the giganto-balls of painter’s tape.
And this, musees, is why you should always hire a contractor and go on a Disney cruise instead of painting the house yourself. Especially if you live in the Florida humidity. It tends to make one go into a rage.
Last night I dreamt about Harry and Hermione and Professor Snape. Hermione was framed for finding railroad tracks and also for murder. Harry performed Legilimency on the girl who was laughing about how she had murdered the person Hermione had just been framed for murdering (it had just happened, even the Ministry didn’t know). The girl didn’t know that Harry had performed Legilimency. Harry wandered aimlessly and ended up at Snape’s office. Harry went to Snape crying, and Snape felt sorry for Harry and teared up a bit. He almost gave Harry a tissue, but then I couldn’t decide if wizards use tissues, but then I remembered Hagrid blows his nose into that handkerchief all the time and Ginny Bat-Bogey Hexes everyone, so yes, Snape gave Harry a tissue. Harry said look into my eyes. Snape did, He performed Legilimency to find out the truth and save Hermione. Pam who I used to work with was the real killer, and Snape helped convict her. After that, he went back to being horrible to Harry.
BTW, I don’t know why Pam would have killed anyone. Her husband is a Marine, so I know why he’d kill people, you know, it’s his job, Ooh-rah, but Pam? No, not her thing. Of course, she is a tax person, and you know tax people.
I have one of those stay-in-bed migraines. It started around the time I left to go have lunch with Jamie, right between my eyes. Wasn’t bad until I got home at 3. Then it crushed me. Bad bad headache (probably a 9 out of 10 on the pain scale, maybe a 10). I lay on the couch. Frank got home at 4:30, and as soon as he went back to play videogames (roughly 4:32 :D ) I went to sleep. Didn’t wake until 6:20. No Curves. And I sent him for the Indian food, because the thought of driving… I’m going to take Excedrin Migraine, because I think I’m sufficiently weaned from the caffeine, so it’s not going to keep me hooked. The golden pills haven’t been helping so much lately, I should tell my neurologist that. But EM usually works.
BTW, Coca-Cola hates me. I get weaned, and they go on sale at Publix for $2 a 12-pack.
Anyway, during my migraine sleep, I had a really bad dream. I was with all of my family, including Frank, and Frank was yelling at me (which would be a HUGE deal, I don’t think he’s ever raised his voice in his life). He was really mad, because I’m a housewife, and there are papers everywhere in the house, because I can’t get the mail situation under control (which is very true, except the part about him being mad about it). Meanwhile, we were wherever we were because of a funeral for someone I didn’t know, but supposedly this guy was married to an unknown cousin of mine, and he had two little boys and a girl. They cried a lot. And Bikermommy was being absolutely horrible to me. Aunt Wanda was being semi-nice, but when Bikermommy came around, Crazy Aunt Wanda was mean to me too! And finally, I asked mom why she was being so awful. Because by this time, I was crying a lot, because everyone was being mean to me. Bikermommy told me that everyone had been avoiding me for months, because I stink. She told me no one wants to be around me, including her and Frank, because I only showered once a week (LOL!). And she said that’s why Frank was acting so mad about all the papers in the house was because he was really mad about me stinking. So I pitched a fit and asked why she waited months to tell me instead of telling me so I didn’t embarrass myself. Aunt Wanda backed me up. Bikermommy said it was because she didn’t want to be around me anyway, so she didn’t care if I stunk. My Papa & Grama had given me a framed picture of themselves (it was my birthday, and I was there at this funeral), and I went and left it on their bed, because I was confused and thought that my mom had given it to me. Grama just sighed and said, “Well, I thought it was a nice picture, but I guess she didn’t want it.” And she was still nice to me, and I went back and retrieved the picture and left a thank you note on their bed.
Amazing the dreams I remember when I’m migrainey.
BTW, I took 2 EMs, and they cleared it right up. Frank and I watched the Season 4 finale of Smallville. Season 5 comes out on DVD in September, and we’ll hopefully be able to finish it before Season 6 starts. Season 4 has been my favorite so far.
I had the weirdest dream about our pack of wild animals early this morning. It woke me up laughing.
So Rowdi was in the kitchen but then she busted out through the baby gate. Minerva and Sydney had been watching her. Rowdi walked up to Minerva and sat down. Then she barked at Minerva. Minerva stood on her back legs and lifted her front legs above Rowdi like she was going to shoot lightning at her from her clawtips. She waved those front legs back and forth and said (in a fairly human voice), “Woof! Woof!” She didn’t bark, she said woof.
Then Sydney, who had been watching, stood on her back legs and got into full Kung Fu stance and started wahing and waving her arms around. Rowdi just looked at Sydney, a little scared.
End dream, begin SarahK laughing.
i dreamed that the cats and the dog were taking over the house. the cats were fine, because they already own the place, but Rowdi decided that as long as she was on a kitchen counter, she was the alpha of the house because she was taller than me, so she could bite me. and she bit me hard every time i walked by her, until i threw her on the ground and Minerva kicked her butt.
then switch, i dreamed that Frank and i were at an adventure park, and they had a “ride” where you get on a boat, and you’re kidnapped by masked men. they go drop you off out in the middle of the ocean. but they take you out there by boat (to very shark-infested waters) and then you get in a helicopter and they drop you from the sky into the ocean. sure, you’re in a shark tank, and sure, they’re very carefully controlling everything, but the shark tank is made of termite-ridden wood, and it starts falling apart when we’re halfway to the ocean below us. by the time we get to the ocean, the tank has no bottom, and Frank is telling me (i guess he’s Aquamanish, because he’s speaking underwater) to stay at least 10 feet above the bottom of the tank (and the tank was only 6 feet tall) and i won’t get eaten by a shark.
i woke up when a shark was coming toward me with its mouth wide open. and i looked up, and i was sure that our ceiling fan looked like a shark.
and that’s what happens when i go to bed at 10 p.m.
or if someone is pregnant.
i had a dream the other night that one of my friends was standing in our kitchen. i was helping her with an IV, she was apparently sick. blood was backing up into the IV, so i was raising her arm to help it get going the right way. just as an air bubble (i really don’t know where this stuff comes from) was about to reach her armpit (because see, the IV was feeding straight into her armpit), i saw the bubble. i opened my mouth to say something, and the air bubble went right in. i heard a deflating noise, and my friend just deflated.
i don’t know if i dreamed that because i’m remotely paranoid that i’m gonna screw up one of my injections that i’ll be doing every night for the rest of my life… once the needle is primed, i’m guessing it would be really hard to screw that up. so as long as i get the priming right every 30 days, i should be good, right?
or they do say that when you dream someone dies, someone is pregnant.
we both read until 11 last night. i woke up at 1, and pretty much never got back to sleep. i mean, i did probably get half an hour at a time. in the middle was some freaky weird dreaming having to do with a road trip to the Grand Canyon and being chased by some horrible people. i had to kill those people by cutting off their life support, which were tubes of air on the outside of their bodies (though the didn’t lead anywhere except back into the bodies). then i had to go to trial to prove it was necessary to kill them. i don’t know if we ever got to the Grand Canyon.
i’m having a lot of sleeping issues. and no, Kris, i’m not pregnant. got confirmation yesterday.
anyway, last night we went to bed around 9:30 and read until 10ish. i woke up around 1 a.m. then i went back to sleep. then i woke up, thinking i’d slept a while and it should be at least 3 by now, and it was 1:22. back to sleep. woke at 4. back to sleep. woke at 5. back to sleep. 5:45 when the alarm went off. back to sleep. up at 6:15 so i could make Frank’s coffee.
more dreams last night. Frank and i were somewhere familiar (cruise ship maybe?) with Bikermommy and Pappy. there was a big show going on, and the whole show was centered around making people in the audience ask other people in the audience out on dates. for some reason, i was goading Pappy (Bikermommy’s husband, mind you) into asking out this hot blonde lady. and i was really pushing him, and the whole roomful of people was pushing him to do it. Bikermommy was just smiling and laughing. and finally, the show was over, and Pappy didn’t ask out the blonde lady, and Bikermommy was asking me why i wanted Pappy to ask out someone else, and she was mad at me. and then i told her that if he successfully asked the lady out (i.e., she said yes), they would have won a big cash prize to split between themselves and that it was all about the money. they didn’t actually have to go on the dates. then my mom was mad at Pappy for not winning the money.
that’s 2 or 3 nights in a row with very weird dreams.
last night was weird.
Frank was about to fall over from sleepiness by 7:15. so when dinner was ready at 8:15, i awakened him so he could eat black-eyed peas for good luck. he was back in bed by 8:30. i cleaned a couple of guns, continued with the removal of Christmas decorations, cleaned a bit. around 10:30, i put dinner away and went to bed. my sweetie hadn’t been able to fall asleep without me there. :-) awwwww.
i woke up around 2:45 to pee. because i’m old, yes.
around 5:30, i woke again. only this time i was dreaming and recalling all kinds of weird stuff in my dream. Frank was in prison and on death row, only he was in the express lane, and the sheriff couldn’t wait to execute him. Frank’s crime was playing the piano in public. i was trying to fight for Frank, as were all the deputies, cops, prison guards, etc. i got on the blogs and posted about the problem. all the big bloggers started rallying people, and everyone started showing up. i emailed the President and asked him to call his brother. i called Jeb’s office and told them our situation. i punched the sheriff a whole bunch of times, and he opened his shirt and told me he could give me some clothes to wear that are the same color as his undershirt. it was brown. i said, “i look great in brown,” and punched him some more. all the deputies said that Frank’s “execution score” was 570 on a crime that would give a max execution score of 300, and they were all mad about how the sheriff was inflating the score. they let Frank and me have a date. we went to an amusement park and exchanged our wedding rings. i cried like a baby the whole time. i was attacked by an alligator and shot the gator in the eye with a .45, left-handed. when we got back to the prison, i punched the sheriff again. Jeb Bush was there. he asked me if my husband is a good man. i was just about to say yes, and then i looked, and Frank wasn’t there next to me anymore. it was the Psycho X. i said, “not this one. he’s a bad man. fry him.” and then Frank was there again, and i said Frank was good, and they let him go. Jeb punched the sheriff too.
ok, so then i tried to go back to sleep. and i thought i was dreaming again when i started hearing motorcycles revving. out on the golf course. then i started seeing lights come in the bedroom window. i went to the livingroom and looked out the window. there was a car on the golf course, starting to drive away toward the next hole (i saw its brake lights). there were still two motorcycles there, revving their engines. actually, they sounded more like weenie mopeds. now mind you, it was still pitch black outside, so all i could see were the lights. they looked like they were facing off. they kept getting louder. i got Mr. Shiny and went back to bed. then i started hearing it again. but louder. and the lights kept shining toward the house. i got up and got the phone # for the golf course. they don’t even have voice mail, and they were really sorry, but i called after hours. i was about to call the police, but the noise died down. Frank said he was sure they were mowing the grass. didn’t sound like mowing, sounded like teenagers playing chicken in my back yard. Minerva was spooked. Sydney had come in from the garage and was standing on the pool table purring at me. if any yard work was going on, they were doing the work with superbig flashlights at 5:30 a.m. right behind people’s houses. and they were edging, not mowing, or those were the whimpiest mowers ever. i’m calling to yell at the golf course people today. ok, not yell. politely ask them what the heck they were thinking.
i had the weirdest dream last night. can’t remember how it all went, but:
Frank was mad at me and acting like a woman (i.e., wouldn’t tell me what was wrong)
i went to the moon (literally) with Jason Mraz, where he was playing a concert. i kept humming Wordplay and making puns (plays on words).
i went golfing with one of the partners at my old firm, and while i was gone, i left my work computer (which i no longer have) in my car and my car unlocked, and when i got back, the computer was gone, but i didn’t care, because they couldn’t fire me because i don’t work there anymore. Frank was mad at me for golfing when i should have been cleaning the house.
i walked from the moon to the country club just 20 yards from the moon on this moonbridge they had. it was like walking on cotton candy, the best feeling ever.
that’s about it. funny, i don’t dream much when i’m stressed, but now that i’m less stressed, i’ve been dreaming more frequently. of course, sometimes i wake up in the middle of the night and think i’m hearing noises. then i can’t go back to sleep. but it’s better than being uber-stressed all the time.
my dreams last night were filled with my Walther P99. i was at some sort of sporting event, i think the Quidditch World Cup, and as i was leaving, an officer was searching people. i took out my P99 and removed the magazine. the officer asked what brand of snap-caps i used in my gun, and i was appalled to see that i had snap-caps instead of real bullets in the gun. then i was a little worried, because my license hadn’t arrived yet, and i hoped the officer wasn’t going to ask for my permit. he just complimented me on my lovely handgun and wished me a nice day.
then later, i was lying in bed, and i heard an intruder. rather than chambering a round and looking to take aim, i immediately started to dismantle my gun, got out the cleaning kit, and started cleaning it. the intruder came in and was so surprised to see me cleaning my gun in my DMB firedancer tank top and sweatpants that he laughed, turned around and left. “nice to meet you,” he said.
or so he said in my dream last night. i dreamt that JJ kept emailing me, asking for tips on making ALIAS and LOST better. i kept blowing him off, thinking it was someone else playing a dirty trick, trying to make me feel important. finally, he was going on an awards show to accept the award for Best TV Pilot Ever, so he told me to watch. when he got on stage, he jumped up in the air three times and sang a song called “SarahK is a Stupid Mountaineer and Should Believe Me”. after that i was much more helpful.
so tune in to ALIAS this season. if JJ takes my advice, Spydaddy, Master of the Universe, will be diving through the streets of Zurich shooting dual .45s at Sarkypooh while Vaughn poses with a Desert Eagle on the curb.
i wish i’d written about this the second i woke up, because it was much clearer then. i woke up to my ‘NSYNC Celebrity CD (i heart them, will always heart them, without apology), and “Girlfriend” was playing. but before i realized the music was going, i was deep in the dream life.
Frank and i were at an ‘NSYNC concert, and we were so cool that we were on the stage with the guys. they were playing “Something Like You” on televisions all over the stadium, and i was singing all the songs, but i sounded just like JT. Frank was dancing all around and throwing himself against a velcro wall and hanging there (can you tell i went to 2 Pop Odyssey concerts in 2002?). then Bikermommy came on stage and didn’t like the song or something, so she was trying to fast forward through “Something Like You”, which was on the TV and playing throughout the stadium. i was mad because she didn’t know how to operate the fast forward button on the VCR. then i was really mad, because they were using VCRs instead of DVRs. that’s like soooo ’90s. puh-leeeeease.
…when you have silly little dreams.
one of my dreams last night was about RTO Trainer and maggie katzen. i dreamt they sent me an email telling me they put $1200 in my amazon gift box. i said something like, “that’s nice of you, thanks. is $1200 all you’ve got?” and they were like, “no, we have more. how much do you need? nevermind, don’t answer that, we’ll just make it an even 10 grand.” and i was like “woohoo! thanks!”
i also had a dream that one of the partners at work was giving me a list of things i had to get done today, and today was Monday. he told me i had to do a search for unrecorded liabilities, do all the fraud inquiries, and write the entire report from scratch. i said, “okay, no problem.” then i went to sleep, and when i woke up i only had about an hour left to get it done. i actually did wake up with a feeling of dread in my stomach, wondering what in the world i was going to do. then i thought, “hey, i’m not even working on one of his jobs right now.” all better.
then there was a dream where i was searching for the Holy Grail with some coconut-weilding k-nighits, and as an obstacle on our quest, we participated in this cheerleading competition against an inner-city squad that we’d stolen all of our routines from. then my Spydaddy strangled a guy to death and resuscitated him to coerce him into telling us how to diffuse a bomb. and i shot my aunt with a tranq dart after she tried to shoot me with real bullets, and my ex-boyfriend shot his evil wife, who was going to shoot me, and she told me where i could find the truth about my past. and then Spydaddy, he was all, “you were never supposed to see this”, and i couldn’t tell if he was about to kill me or hug me. then a killer rabbit came and ate him.
that last one might’ve been just me makin’ stuff up.
i had a fitful night of terrible sleep that netted me a total of maybe three hours. and when i woke up for the final time, i was dreaming about Heather of angelweave. wha? i think it’s because i went through Frank‘s Peace Gallery last night, and she’s in there… why couldn’t i have dreamed of Curtis the
Former Marine instead? not that Heather’s not nice and all, but Curtis, well. the ladies will understand. here’s what i remember…
i was at my house, but it faced south instead of west, and the Noggles lived across the street, but we’d never met except online, because they were like the cool, popular neighbors on the block, and i was seen as the bookish freak who spent all my time on the computer when i wasn’t fighting with my lawnmower (ok, i added that part). it was 6 a.m. or something like that, and Heather was about to pull out of her driveway. i waved through my screen door, and she walked across the street to my house. i had a friend over, a new potential blogchild (have no idea who she was or what she looked like, just a smudge-blogger, a bludger if you will), and the blogchild started jumping up and down while i was trying to be so cool. “hey, SarahK, hey, SarahK,” bounce bounce “isn’t that Heather of angelweave? holy cow, she’s like, coming over here! oh! what do we do?” thud. i drop-kicked her and told her to shut up.
i sat down next to the bludger and pretended i wasn’t like totally excited to be meeting the totally cool Heather. wow. you know what she did? she just walked right through that screen door without knocking, like she was cool or something. i thought, wow! she feels at home here!
she sat down next to Bludger and me and watched FoxNews in silence for a couple minutes. i finally broke the silence with, “so, i read on your blog that you saved Brian‘s life, but that it’s a big secret until he writes about it, because you let him blog stuff first since he’s the man and all. what’s that about? the saving his life, i mean.” Heather looked at me, looked back at FoxNews, then got up and walked to the door.
“well, i’ve gotta go, lass. gotta get to work. oh look, there’s Brian. hey, Hon! come over here and meet our neighbor SarahK! she’s not a freak like they say, she watches FoxNews!”
Brian J. Noggle then walked through my door, thrust out his hand, gave me a creepy bug-eyed stare and said cautiously, “nice to meet you. Heather didn’t tell you about saving my life, did she?” “no, of course not, Sir.” Brian said, “ok, then, i will tell you what happened.” a flash later, i stood in my doorway, and the Noggles were in their convertible Thunderbird, Heather waving goodbye, Brian moving his lips like he was talking. i couldn’t hear what he was saying, but i knew what he was saying, because a movie was now playing, one of those silent movies where the facial expressions are overexaggerated so you know what’s going on. Brian had flipped over the handlebars of his bicycle in the Grand Canyon, and Heather had thrown him over her shoulders and biked him all the way out of the Canyon and to the medical facilities there.
oops, i don’t think i was supposed to tell y’all that. don’t tell them where i live, ok?
(what a freak i am.)
just when i delete this category because i never dream anymore, those REM pals of mine change their minds and decide to blow back in full force.
at the end of my two hours of sleep this morning, i was dreaming…. spiraling spaces tangled up in moments of touching time… head exploding from the mind, too much time for dancing in our hair… (jason, of course)
i remember nothing of the dream chronology…
i think J was there somewhere, but i don’t know; maybe he just provided the sexy-Latin-voice-of-narration, other than that i’m not sure he served a purpose, maybe just a reminder that i’m getting old, because so is he… ;)
it was moving weekend (surprise)… my mom forgot i was moving to Amastinkinrillo… i arrived with my moving truck and unpacked it by myself, hideaway bed and everything…
an old new friend showed up, but he didn’t want to help, he just wanted to talk about himself and ask me questions, though he cared not to hear the answers, just to hear himself ask the questions… he stayed for the weekend in someone’s study (not mine, obviously, since i won’t have one, but it was in my house)… on Sunday morning i asked him to go to church with me, and he wanted me to go with him and we just ended up debating where we should go and missed services. *rolling eyes*
eventually, Bikermommy and Pappy showed up, and Old New Friend and i were sent to the store for Dr. Pepper (since that’s what flows thru Bikermommy’s veins instead of blood)… Bikermommy asked Old New Friend if he could sing, and if so, was he a tenor; he said yes, i melted into a drooling mass and mumbled something about him being perfect.
for some reason, we left at the same time and went to the same store and talked to each other on our cell phones the entire time, but we each drove our own cars. (??) on the way back, we took separate routes for no reason… it started raining hard, and one second i heard tornado sirens and the next second there was a tornado beside my car; i thought that was totally cool. the tornado saluted me and turned right while i turned left, only to see a second, bigger tornado up ahead (it dodged me as if scared). Old New Friend ended up mad at me, because on his route there were no tornadoes, and he wanted to be cool like me and see tornadoes up close. i told him to rent Twister, suck it up and quit whining.
we got back to my house, and i was happy to have my DVR back. yay for getting to skip all the commercials!
thus ended another installment in the dream life. i promptly turned on Jason (‘s music) and started packing again. if he would say yes, i would ask him to marry me so he could sing me to sleep every night and to wake every morning. i would request Little You & I as a lullaby and Zero Percent as my morning radio, because there’s no Mraz song that gets me up and moving better than 0% (Live at Java Joe’s version, of course).