That Was a Weird One

Since I've already talked about odd dreams in one post, I didn't want to talk about it again so soon, but last night's was a doozy. I dreamt that while hunting for Sasquatch, I came across a group of small (1 foot tall) creatures with humanoid furry bodies but with a head like a moose. They lived in a volcano and ate people. That's not the worst part. They could talk and told me about their plans for world domination. Apparently after they ate someone, they could make a copy of that person that would be under their control. They would use that person's copy to lure others to their volcano where they would be eaten. They were evil. It was scary.

Back to Where I Once Belonged

My 10 year high school reunion is coming up this summer. (I know, I'm old.) I really don't want to go. I think about it and the vast majority of those people I have no desire to see ever again. Not that they were bad or evil or that high school was a terrible time. For the most part, I had fun back then. It's just that I feel very little connection with the random people I went to high school with. I've kept in touch with a few close friends and that seems to be enough for me. The reason I bring this up is because I came across the myspace pages for a few guys that I hung out with back then, and other than a mild curiosity, I feel very content with the friends and associates that I have now. I don't need a reunion. I don't need to compare my life with other people's... As long as their lives aren't better than mine.

A Season For Sneezes

Spring is when you feel like whistling even with a shoe full of slush.
-Doug Larson

I agree, except that there hasn't been much slush lately. Spring is nice, though, in spite of the allergies and the fact that it heralds the season of unbearable heat.

These Dreams

Lately, I've had some very bizarre dreams that I feel deserve to be written down in some form. First of all, the other night, I dreamt that I was in a Mexican restaurant with my roommate, Alan. We ordered flautas, which is one of my favorite Mexican foods. As I ate the flauta, I noticed that it tasted odd, which prompted me to go to the kitchen to find out what was the problem. It turned out that they had run out of regular flauta meat and were roasting robins, (yes, the birds) and then deep frying them in a tortilla. I was understandably upset, but somehow, the cooks convinced me that it was right and proper to eat roasted robins deep fried in a tortilla. Even Alan seemed to be enjoying them thoroughly. At this point, I left the restaurant and went outside where I ran into Barack Obama. At this point it gets hazy, but somehow, Obama and I travelled back in time to the 1950's in order to rob a bank. This was not done for any evil reasons, rather, somehow robbing this bank was the only way to save a man's life. It was wacky.

And last night's dream was not any better. It seems I was the American-born son of a South American diplomat and was kidnapped along with my little sister and taken to Mexico where we had to escape and struggle against many odds to make it back home. Also, this dream was entirely in Spanish. Fun, no?