So, I Had This Pretty Effed Up Dream Last Night.

The dream started out with me in Amsterdam with my mom and brother. Then, we got kidnapped by terrorists. Terrible, I know...but it turned out to not be so bad, because when we got to the holding area, Sayid from Lost was there. (He's had a recurring role in my dreams lately. Not sure why, but according to Duckie, it's "BECAUSE HE'S HOT, THAT'S WHY!")
"Omg, wasn't that guy on Lost?" My brother asked.
"YOU BET! This is shaping up to be the best kidnapping ever!" I said. So, they held us there for a few days and Sayid--who was NOT a kidnapper but a victim, just like the rest of us--convinced them to take it easy. We got to sleep in beds with fluffy duvets and nice sheets, rather than in a dungeon. And they let us go shopping.
Upon heading back to the holding area after an outing to a store which specialized in cats, cat toys, and oval-shaped cat beds, our captors decided that Sayid had 24 hours to live. I was a bit purturbed by the way he simply acquiesced to his sentence, because he totally could have taken them. I mean, come ON--reformed badass Iraqi soldier versus kidnappers who give their hostages shopping breaks?
"Look, you survived a war, a plane crash, and big explosion! Not to mention, some pretty effed up island inbahitants. Are you REALLY going to just give up now? SERIOUSLY?!" I was convinced his nonchalance was because he knew something I didn't, and that Josh Holloway would swoop in like Indiana Jones at any moment to save the day.
But he didn't.
And they killed Sayid.
And I said "oh, shit..." and it all ended just like that, because I woke up to the full moon shining in my window so brightly at 6 am on a Saturday morning that I thought someone was in my backyard with a searchlight.

Hello, World

I think that starting a blog is a coming of age experience for members of my generation. The day where you realize "hey, I'm unique. I have stuff to say," and so, usually at the urging of a friend or family member, you sign up for a free account on Blogspot and become one of the masses. I've actually been encouraged to do this since high school, but, up until now, I was just too damn lazy.

The primary focus, among rantings about employment, graduate school applications, current events, and the lack of a love life, will be about dreams. Not so much about the science and psychology of dreams, but rather--narratives. Cause I've had some wild ones. Pretty much every night since I was old enough to talk. I've spent many hours entertaining friends and family with dream narratives, so I hope that other readers will enjoy as well.

Oh, and please don't ask "did you REALLY dream this?" Come on. Why else would I be telling you?