6.13.09

DREAM:
I remember my dream from a few nights ago, and I think this one's even better than the one I forgot the other night.

I can't remember where it started, but I do remember someone asking about a scripture in the Doctrine and Covenants. I was all excited because I knew the answer -- or so I thought. I grabbed a stack of IKEA kids' bowls and tried to remember how a star formed and how it dies, because in my mind, that was the answer to the doctrinal question. I tried to get people to listen, but everyone was freaking out about these creatures that had been captured on our property.

I wandered toward all the commotion (through a forest and up into a huge tree house). There I found Dad and some random dude wrestling down two dwarf-elf-trolls. Really nasty creatures. One of them seemed to be missing his legs. Both of them stunk, and each had a name written across his stomach. One said Cain. The other said Abel. Yeah. Weird. Cain was screaming anti-Mormon garbage, saying we were evil and he'd escape and seek revenge. The other dwarf-elf-troll-neanderthal looked like he was dead. (The gaping wounds in his chest gave me that impression). Dad wanted Mom to see what he'd captured, but then thought better of it. Mom came over, but instead of looking at the dwarf-elf-hobbit things, Mom just smelled them. Or rather, smelled the air in the surrounding area. Apparently it reeked. Mom and Dad seemed to have it under control, so I left.

A couple minutes later, while sulking with my IKEA bowls and trying to find someone to listen to my awesome analogy, I heard something fall from the tree house. It was Abel! He wasn't dead. How he managed to fall out of the tree house and run away was beyond me. He had no legs. I called to Dad because in a crisis like this, Dad was the one to call. He had super-sonic speed. He booked it through the ravine we were in, wrangled up Cain and Abel, tied them back up, didn't pass out from the smell, and called Animal Control. Or so I assume. If my subconscious did take me that far into the story, I've since forgotten.

NEWS:
I got my EFY schedule. Holy wow. That's gonna be a rough week, but really fun. Rough because of the less-than 8 hours of sleep alotted to me each night, no naps and no snacks. Fun because of line dances, being in charge (kinda), working with teenagers that will think I'm cool (they will, I know it), and getting to wear a sweet blue polo and name tag! Ha ha.

They will think I'm cool because of my entire disposition, or maybe my whole demeanor. And if that fails, because of my sunglasses.

NOTE:
I helped move Kelsey and Ben's stuff into their storage unit today. I don't think I've been that covered in my own bodily fluids since the day I was born -- unless you count that bodily fluid as my mom's ... Luckily today's experience involved sweat, not embryonic fluid and blood. You're welcome for that visual.

OBSERVATION:
I can't walk normally today. My calf muscles decided to wad themselves up like a pair of clean socks--or maybe like one dirty sock, seeing as my legs are not connected as the socks would be. It's kinda painful. Like an everlasting charlie-horse. Everlasting Gobbstoppers are good. Everlasting charlie-horses are not. They lack the sugary flavors, among other things.


[picture and such found here.]

Speaking of "flavors" --we were speaking of them, were we not?-- I think bottled pop, glass-bottled, is classy. Well, more like, classic. And cool. And kool. Ya get me?

1 comment:

  1. First off, that's a crazy dream, and I'm having fun interpreting it. Second, yes. The EFY kids will think you're cool. At least the cool ones will. The uncool ones probably will but won't admit it. Third, gross.

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