Saturday, October 30, 2010


Can't talk. Got Fallout: New Vegas. Consuming all my time.
Need to draw. Need to write. Need to eat.

Only New Vegas.

Sunday, October 24, 2010

Reflections Of A Skyline

I don't have too much to say. I don't feel well today. Lady troubles are plaguing me.

I'm starting a project, where I'm going to make Christmas cards for people. I entered The Sketchbook Project, and received my moleskin sketchbook in the mail on the 22nd. My laptop was dead for 2 days, and is suddenly fixed. It's nevertheless going to go see the laptop doctor tomorrow. I've figured out that I'm an atheistic fundamentalist, and I'm okay with that. Max is getting his school life all sorted out, and it's making me anxious about mine. I've sent Peter and his girlfriend Janelle on a pizza run, and will have baked pasta and bbq chicken pizza soon.

Now, all of you have to watch this video. Just do it, please. And please, please oh please, if you do watch it, please comment. Comments are my lifeblood.

Sunday, October 17, 2010

Pull Me Out Alive


Hobbies and Polysics

I know this is going to sound sick, but I like pushing myself to my limits.

Today, the only thing I ate was at 7:30pm. I went to Bau Chau's with Tanis and got my usual: #53 (2 deep fried rolls... I think they're spring rolls?) and #48 (a bowl of rice vermicelli, pork hash and a salad consisting of lettuce, bean sprouts, cucumber and carrot). They are my absolute favourites now. I daydream about them while I'm out and about.

But as I was saying.

I kind of enjoy the feeling. Same with being tired. I stay up late so I can feel like I'm... okay, I don't want to say "in control" because I KNOW how fucked up that sounds. I know, don't worry. I know this is screwed up. But I like it. It makes me feel stronger than everyone else. When you're tired, and you can feel your whole body weighing down on you, and the bags under your eyes. It makes finally going to bed so much sweeter. Same like that first bite after nothing all day. It makes everything just that much more delicious.

Also, Maria from work asked me if I'd lost weight yesterday :D (Read: No, I am not starving myself. I love food just as much as the next person. I'm just picky, and if there's nothing I like around, I don't eat).

Going to Long and McQuade later on to try and hunt down a music book from my high school Jazz Band days. I miss it so much sometimes. I still have dreams about playing. They're always weird. The slide is all stiff, the notes come out mangled, and I'm anxious and upset, but then I start freestyling a solo and everything is okay. I want to play again. Maybe I'll join a community band?

What I really need is a hobby. I've never been into anything the way you would be with a hobby. I mean, I love reading, and I write and doodle and fool around on the Internet a lot, but I wouldn't really call any of those 'hobbies'. Max has Magic, and Tanis has dancing, and Heather has sewing, and Rum has movies, but I have... nothing, really. It's kind of annoying. I've found journal entries and comic doodles from various years done by yours truly, all lamenting the absence of a definitive hobby.

Well, it's time for sleeps now, but before I go, I'm going to say that all of you have to listen to this Japanese band, Polysics. Start out with their song "I My Me Mine" and then "Electric Surfin' Go Go". Also, listen to "Rocket". That is all, and goodnight.

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

Calmer and Keener

Okay, so I'll admit I was a little panicked yesterday. It happens to the best of us, but mostly to me. I just got a little overwhelmed with the prospect of writing things that people might actually read. Writing for yourself is fine and dandy, but all of that changes when you're writing for other people. Suddenly, the pressure is on. It's the same with pretty much anything. Art, dancing, singing, speaking... As soon as you start to do these things for other people, everything is a little scarier.

I did some good, old fashioned thinking today, and actually managed to think of a few things I could write about. I came up with:

- a how-to guide to making a Pikachu costume.
- various recipes
- how to strike up conversations with a stranger.

Meager, but there.

I also wanted to talk about how it bothers me that people fear the idea of us being a comic accident, but I feel that might be a little heavy for one of my first writings.

I'm reading again! I just finished Fool, by Christopher Moore tonight, which was obviously fantastic, and started on A Dog's Purpose, by W. Bruce Cameron. It's pretty good, but kind of sad. It's the story of a dog that keeps being reincarnated into other dogs, constantly searching for a purpose. I like it. It reminds me of Macey.

Hey, maybe I could write about books? I know an awful lot about books.

Listening to Passion Pit now, and getting sleepy. I sleep a lot these days, and it's always the same deep, dream-filled sleep. I keep having the most amazing, detailed, complex dreams. And I'm doing this thing that used to happen to me a lot when I was younger. I would be dreaming, and then wake up from it slightly. Feeling that I didn't yet want to be finished with the dream, I would just shut my eyes and either immediately or gradually pop back into it. I like the sensation. It's very warm and comforting, kind of like somethings gently pulling me back under.

Also, I am a pro reader. I've only been at this book for 1 hour, and I am on page 127 of 319.

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

Self Worth, Doubt, Esteem and Hate

So. The editor for emailed me back, answering some of my questions and giving me a few very helpful links. I learned some stuff about the website, and now all I have to do is sign up and get the ball rolling.

Hm, I feel like I'm forgetting something... Oh, yeah.


In her reply, she said:
"What would you be writing about --- I think you’d be glad to know that
you can write about anything you want. It could be about your expertise,
skills, hobbies, sports, work, or anything that interest you at the
moment. Just make it simple, informative, and useful for our knowledge-hungry
users—your soon-to-be followers. Our main aim is to answer some of our
users' burning questions from cooking to sports to charity work, etc.
So if you can provide some answers/insights on your article, you're
gonna have a good number of followers in no time."

While that is a little helpful, it still begs the question: What is my expertise? Hobby? And skills? Oh dear. I don't really have any of those, do I? I blab on about random things that bother/interest me. I make a lot of jokes, crass and otherwise. I know about anxiety, and zombies. Video games and Internet inside-humour. The only things I know about that I could actually write about are things like writing, drawing and cooking, and I'm not an expert at any of those things. I'm fairly competent at all three, but I don't think I could write about them with any kind of authority. I can scribble a story, doodle a comic and read a recipe, but I wouldn't say that I have a true talent for any of these things. Any moron could do that shit.

I could write about what it's like to struggle with your own self worth, I suppose. Boy, has it been a long struggle, with no end in sight. I could write about self doubt, or hey, why not self hate while I'm at it? These are all things I am well versed in.

The other thing is that even if I do write something good, there's no guarantee that people are going to like it, or even read it. I'm so tired of writing things that nobody reads.

I want to do this. I do, I really do. The only problem is that I know I'm going to fuck it up by being a retarded chickenshit. Oh, I do these kinds of these all the time. Something good comes my way, and I don't know how to handle it, so I immediately hit the eject button, and am jettisoned back into oblivion. I have to stay, it's starting to get pretty comfy here.

Okay, so I saw someone writing something about atheism. Not a how-to, just an article discussing it. Hey, I can do that. Oh yeah, but someone's already done that. This website's been around for almost 5 years. What am I supposed to write about that hasn't already been done? I suppose I could write about similar things, only better, but that sounds like I'd need some serious self esteem and balls to try that, because, you know. The chickenshit thing.

See, this is why I'm always telling myself to get a hobby. For years I've been looking for something, but I've got nothing. I can't keep hobbies because I get too easily bored and move on to something else. Nothing is constant, except for this nice, comfy oblivion I am currently inhabiting.

I think I'm just going to go to sleep now, and possibly something will come to my in my dreams. You never know, it's happened before. Then I am going to go to work for 8 hours and feel all creativity drained from me, plop myself down in front of the computer and stare at a glowing screen for a couple more hours, all passion for life slowly ebbing away.

So, same time tomorrow?

Friday, October 8, 2010

To Do, To Do, Tout Doucement


1) Go to Button Button

Button Button is a store that sells, predictably, buttons. I have a ton of jackets that are missing buttons, and it drives me insane. So I plan to take pictures of the missing buttons siblings, and then head on down to Button Button and find the closest matches I can.

2) Go to Fabricland

I've decided that instead of being a 1940s singer/actress/prostitute/whatever for Halloween, I am going to be Pikachu.

I'm going to use this dress that I already have as the pattern for the Pikachu dress. Also, that dress is amazing. It is so comfortable and has magical transforming patterns. I looked preeeetty good in it, if I don't say so myself.
Anyway, I'm going to sew the whole thing myself. I'll make the ears, and then wear yellow tights and find yellow gloves. Or sew yellow gloves if I can't find any. I sewed a pair of socks for a Halloween costume one year. I can do anything >D

3) Write, you fool!

Even though the editor from Videojug Pages hasn't emailed me back yet, her words really inspired me. I AM a good writer. I CAN do this. I just lost myself for awhile somewhere back there. But last night, I wrote a short story. Yeah! I know! I didn't forget how to do it! I could feel how rusty I was though. It was harder to get the words out than it used to be. But I am going to do this. I am going to start writing again, about whatever pops into my head. Prepare yourself.

4) Write a letter to Maya

Since Maya went to Germany, I have definitely noticed her absence. Now, I am not one to miss people. I know she's coming back, and it's all a matter of sitting back and being patient. Time can go by surprisingly fast when you're not paying attention. But it has been weird not seeing her around. Ever since she started living with us during the summer, it was like she became my second sister. And I know she misses being here, so I am going to write her some letters. I bought a booklet of stamps today, which I am going to split with Rachel when I see her on Monday for Thanksgiving.

5) Get Max's birthday present

No dice, Max. You can't catch me that easily.

6) Get Tanis' birthday present

You too, Tanis.

There. Those are the pressing matters in my life right now. I just have to be sure that I buckle down and actually do them. Motivation is the key! I can accomplish all these things if I just put my mind to it.

Also, the title for this blog is a reference to a lovely little cover of a song from 1957 by Feist.

Tuesday, October 5, 2010

Work Late, Work Early

The lady still hasn't emailed me back, and I'm all sad and worried.

I want this to be a real thing so bad! I just have to keep telling myself to think positive. For one thing, she said she was "really impressed" with my writing, so I don't think she would email me and just forget me. And I only emailed her on Sunday night, and it's now only Tuesday night. So I just need to chill and give it some time.

I'm working on colouring a new picture right now. I'll post it when it's done, which should be soon. I'm really starting to like this whole colouring on the computer thing.

Late night shift, early morning shift tomorrow. A customer night asked what time I got off work, and I said at 9:30. He said "Got anything crazy planned for the night?" to which I replied "Nnnnope. Going home and then going to bed. Early shift tomorrow at 8 am." He said "8? For this place?" I wearily told him yes. He just said "Wow. That sucks."

Yes, sir. Yes it does.

Goodnight kidlets.

After Thoughts and It Gets Better

I want to add a story to my previous entry, "Amazing Accidents". You see, I myself was an accident.

I was a broken condom.

It's nothing worthy of a soap opera. My parent's had already been married for 3 years, and knew they wanted kids. They hadn't decided when, but they knew that one day they wanted some. Well, let's make an awkward story short and get to the point: I, their first child, was an accident. The condom broke, and 9 months later I showed up. I am an accident.

But am I any less significant because of that? Does my life have to have any less meaning? Nope.

I also want to take a moment here to talk about Dan Savage's It Gets Better Project. There was a 15 year-old boy named Billy Lucas, and he killed himself because kids in his school bullied him for being gay. So Dan Savage launched this project. He's asked any LGBT folk out there (and straight people) to make videos on post them on Youtube, telling all the hopeless queer kids out there that life gets better. They talk about how they were bullied, how leaving high school made everything better, how awesome their lives are now and how GLAD they are that they didn't kill themselves. I think it's such a beautiful and refreshing idea.

And not to draw attention away from the horrible treatment the gay people of the world are receiving from the shitheads and the biggots, but high school is hard for everyone. I myself hated high school. I experienced all my bullying at a much younger age, so I was tougher than most when I started high school, but it was still hard. There was this one girl, when I was in grade 11, who hated me for some reason. I had honestly never said more than 2 words to her. She was in my Sociology class and my PE class, and didn't stop herself from letting me know that she did not like me at all. That was the only tough time I'd directly recieved from another person during my teenage years. I knew there were other people, though, who said things.

I was an unabashedly weird kid. I dressed differently, I spoke differently, I didn't like the same things that everybody else liked. I loved English and books, and wrote in my spare time and didn't drink or do any drugs or go to parties. And there were people who didn't appreciate that. I was fortunate that no one except that one girl ever said those things to my face, but I could feel it. I felt very alienated from everyone, including my friends. I felt very powerless.

I would daydream about being older. All I wanted in life was to graduate, to go to college, to get a job and have a boyfriend. I know. How much more boring could I be. But it was the experiences I would dream about. The freedom of learning whatever I wanted in college. How awesome it would be to have my own money, to furnish my life with my own pretty things, and things that I thought were valuable. To experience love!

I know it sounds silly, but the first time I deposited my paycheque into my bank account from my first job, I was ecstatic. Since then I have paid for a trip to Toronto for 2 weeks, helped pay for college, and by myself the prettiest clothes, like omg. But more importantly, I've started to feel comfortable with myself. And that started pretty much immediately after I graduated high school.

One of the most important things that happened to me in high school was at the end of grade 10. Suddenly, I was like "Wait. Who gives a fuck what other people think about me? FUCK other people!" And that was so incredibly freeing. And I've carried that attitude with me, and it has helped IMMENSELY.

I feel like I've strayed from the topic a bit, but what I'm trying to say is IT GETS BETTER. Gay, lesbian, bi, trans, straight, whatever. Life will get so much better if you just give it a chance to.

Monday, October 4, 2010

Amazing Accidents

I was reading a hilarious article on Cracked, called 15 Things Christine O'Donnell Will Probably Say Before She's Not Elected. It's obviously a joke article, and a very funny one at that. But there was one thing written that bothered me...

"Science is a way of scaring us and our youth into believing that we are an accident."
Can I ask a question?

Why is that so scary?

Now, I do know that this was a joke article, and she has not actually said this. But there are tons of people out there that probably believe that statement, or something similar to it. But why? Really, what about us being accidents is frightening?

I think that it's mostly because people have a fear of the unknown. Things we don't understand scare us. So the prospect of being randomly brought into existence for no great purpose that we can see can be a little unsettling. There are lot's of people out there that agonize over the meaning of their being. So most of the time, it's easier to believe that an almighty God created us, and that he's got a plan for everyone. You may not know what that plan is yet, and hell, you may never know, but just the fact that there IS a plan is comforting. You're not a worthless speck. Someone put you here for a reason.

Personally, I believe none of that, and my life is no less rich and interesting for it.

I LOVE the idea that we're accidents. I think it's beautiful. Look around you: look at what we have come to. All this art, structure, language, culture... I think it's amazing that this could have all been one monumental accident. If one fragment hadn't collided with another, if element had stayed the wallflower and not mingled with the party, none of this would be here. But it did, and look. We were nothing, and now we have music! Dance! Love! Literature! All these things, by accident.

People say, "But what if those fragments HADN'T collided? What if that one element was shy? Then we would have never existed." Well, we do, so honestly... who cares? There's no point in worrying about what-if's.

As for purposes, well, I think our purpose is to live. Some people think that's bland. Some people think that's not enough. But why? Why is it not enough to just live and enjoy your life? Sure, you can sprinkle some volunteer work and world travel in there. You can do whatever you think makes your life more meaningful and memorable. If that's what you want your purpose to be, then do it.

I think that our ultimate purpose is much more simple (and less romantic) than that. Let's not forget that we are animals. Our base purpose is to continue. To grow, to meet, to mate, to give way to new life, and et cetera. Yes, that seems a little lame, to think that we're only here to breed and then die. But we've grown to the part where we can make our own purposes.

The idea of being accidental is incredible. Nobody wanted us here, or needed us here, but damnit all, we showed up anyway. We came, we dreamed, we grew.

Sunday, October 3, 2010

Stupid Things on Facebook and Oh My God I Am So Excited

Let's see how powerful women really are.

Woman have had to overcome some tough stuff to be at the point where we are today. I would consider myself a feminist in the sense that I am a woman, and am particularly fond of having rights. So when I see a line like "Let's see how powerful we women really are" I think "Fuck yeah! Nobody's going to hold me down! I'm going to walk on the moon and be the goddamn Prime Minister of Canada!"

But don't get too excited, because that line comes from this:

"Ok ladies here's another game, like the bra color game which was a total success and we had men wondering for days what was with the colors and it made it to the News. Well this game has to do with your handbag, where we put our handbag the moment we get home for example "I like it on the couch", "I like it on the kitchen counter", "I like it on the dresser" well u get the idea. Just put your answer as your Status with nothing more than that and cut n paste this message and forward to all your FB female friends to their inbox. The bra game made it to the news. Let's see how powerful we women really are!!"
(I got it in 'girls only' pages from the net)
and remind guys not to give a damn on their status... or we loose."
This... I don't even know what this is. For one thing, there are so many grammatical errors in this that I am going to punch the next baby I see from the rage this has caused in me. But really, I'm just curious as to how sounding like a slut is empowering anybody. Now, I have nothing against sex. Sex is awesome. But when you're trying to prove how "powerful" women are, making yourself sound like a lady who just wants to be fucked is maybe not the best way to go about it.

Just saying.

In other TERRIFIC news, I got an incredibly interesting email. It was from a woman who said she had come across this blog and was "really impressed." She is the editor for a website called Videojug Pages, which I hadn't heard of before. It's like, a collection of how-to's and articles on whatever you're knowledgeable about. So basically, I could write about whatever I felt like for a bunch of people who are there to read what I write. And I said yes!(!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

I-I am so freaking excited I don't know what to do with myself. I've wanted to do something like this for so long, and here it is! My big chance! I do have some worries though...

1) I'm worried that... I don't know, that this isn't real. Or like, that I'm not going to be able to do it. She emailed me on the 28th, and I didn't check until today! Bad, bad Lisa! Nobody ever emails me these days, so I just stopped checking. What if it's too late, or she's like "Man, I don't want dumb people who never check their emails." Ahhh! No, I'm not dumb, I swear! I'm just vastly unpopular so there's never a need to check my email!

2) What the heck am I going to write about?! The point of the website is to write about things that you know and have some expertise on... What's my area of expertise?! I mean, from the looks of it, I could write about literally anything. But... what if I'm not as knowledgeable as I think I am? I mean, I only know books, doodling, webcomics and... man, I don't know. I like to ramble a lot.

But I really, really, really want to do this. I just feel like I've been stuck in such a funk lately, and I've been searching for something to do that will just give me something else to think about and work towards.

Here's hoping this works out.

And now, I must feed! Seriously, all I've had to eat today was two slices of pizza at about 4pm, and I'm starting to feel really funny. Like, I feel like I'm moving, or being sloooowly squished down into my chair, but I am obviously not moving. Huh. I guess it's time for eats then.

Goodnight, my children. May your dreams be wild and strange.

Mountain Tops, Ganesh and Tearful Goodbyes

Such a strange, sad dream.

It started with Christina staying in Vancouver for longer than she really did. She rolled some dice, or possibly got a fortune cookie that told her to take advantage of sudden chances. So she decided to stay for a little while longer. While we were all at a video store, Max showed up and he and I were kissing. I paused to say to her "By the way, this is my boyfriend." and she laughed and said "Yeah, I guessed."

I have to interrupt for a second here to say that my identity in my dreams is always very fluid. Sometimes I am myself, but there was a brief amount of time where I was Christina. I never seem to stay the same person. Anyway, carrying on...

We all slept over (Max included) at a swanky apartment that Tanis had come to own. It was, indeed, very swanky. There was an upstairs and a downstairs (we were in a high-rise building) and a huge balcony with a swimming pool. Max and I slept on the couch while Tanis and Christina were upstairs. The next morning, Max kept trying to coerce me into having sex with him, but Tanis was in the kitchen and I told him that would be kind of weird.

Max went off, and Tanis and I told Christina that we would take her to Whistler for some sightseeing. We got there, but Christina was mysteriously not with us anymore, although Tanis and I didn't seem to mind. We were on the very peak of the mountain, and it was horrible. The edge was very thin, and it was like we were in the middle of a terrible blizzard. It was dark and freezing, and the wind was just howling. It was so dark that we couldn't see the other mountain peaks around us. We were right on the edge of the peak, and lying on our bellies. To my right was an abyss, and full of this dark swirling stuff. I thought it was mist, but when I put my hand out to touch it, I found it was water. The ocean was right up against the side of the mountain.

We were trying to make our way to the far edge of the peak, which was behind me, which had a tiny tunnel that we were going to use to get down the mountain. A memory (that wasn't actually a real memory) came to me, that Tanis and I had used this tunnel as children. Anyway, we got there, and it was too tiny for us to fit down. So I stood up and smashed the top of it in (which conveniently smashed to top off the rest of the tunnel) and we slid down the old tunnel, zig-zagging our way down the sheer face of the mountain.

At the bottom, there were all these slush puddles, and they were in the shapes of the continents of the world. We walked across them, joking about how we were on top of the world, which is kind of funny, considering that we already were, since we were on top of a mountain. Also, I believe William Shatner was there for some reason. Oh, the dreams of a Canadian.

Then we were suddenly giants, actually standing on top of the world. I could cross entire countries in a footstep. We raced across the continents. We ran over the oceans, which were only an inch deep to our giant-ness. We started off on Canada, and ran over the Arctic. At this point, I realized that this was not our planet, but a larger look-alike. If it had been our planet, we would have crossed it 5 times by now.

But I digress.

We were running across the oceans, whooping and yelling to hear our voices echo across the world. By this time we were somewhere in Asia. There was a moment where I wondered if the people were were running past could even see us, because we were so fast.

Well, turns out they could, and they weren't our biggest fans. They got together a whole bunch of warships together to come and kill us. We were in India now, and could see the weird red and blue cliffs ahead of us. There were children on the beach who told us that it would be too hard to climb the cliffs, but we were goddamn giants, so we could do whatever we wanted. It was admittedly harder than I expected it to be. The kids somehow managed to get up as well.

As soon as we stepped foot on the plateau on top of the cliffs, Tanis and I turned into elephants, and the children turned into ducklings. I heard a man talking, as if he was the narrator of this dream, and he told us that all the animals had been turned against us too. I heard rattle snakes, and they rose up from the grass and killed all the ducklings. Specifically, we were being hunted kangaroos, pelicans, tigers, and the duckling-murdering rattle snakes.

We ran to what looked like an ancient temple that was being held up by scaffolding, as if they were trying to restore it. I was informed by the narrator that entering this temple would change someone's life forever, but also end someone else's life. Even though I knew that one of us would die, it was like I couldn't control myself, like I couldn't escape fate.

We quietly entered the temple just as night was falling, and all hell broke lose. They toppeled columns on us, rock slabs, and threw nets. In the confusion, I found a baby elephant who was good and joined us. The baby and I escaped the melee, but Tanis was the one who's death the narrator had predicted.

Er, sorry Tanis.

The baby elephant and I changed into (normal-sized) humans, and the baby elephant was actually a little... boy? Girl? Honestly, I don't think it had a discernible gender. We found an abandoned high school on a cliff overlooking the ocean, and ran inside to take refuge. We were searching for some sort of dirigible that would take me back to my own world. We were joined by a young man (who was sometimes Max) and a 77 year old woman who had a strange Norwegian name that began with a T and had a whole bunch of letter S' in it. Now, instead of animals, there was a horde of screaming teenagers chasing us down. We found the blimp in an old closet in the school, and then climbed staircase after staircase so we could launch it from the top of the school. On the way up, I found an ancient gold chain, with an equally ancient pendant of Ganesh hanging off it. I picked it up and put it on, hoping it would give me luck. The young man (who was Max at this point) found a long dagger with a burnished gold hilt. I told him to take it with us, because we were most likely going to need it.

The teenagers were racing up the stairs, screaming and jeering. I had superhuman strength, which I think was due to the Ganesh necklace, and I was throwing benches, garbage bins and even a wooden barrel at them. All the while I was laughing maniacally and calling them awful names, shouting things like "Eat this, cum-brains!" and making jerk-off motions in their direction.

It was very fun.

I shut myself in a room, which was really well furnished, with all dark wood furniture, a fireplace and ceiling high bookshelves. I locked the door, and was dressed in a beautiful vintage 1940's summer dress. The young man was there, sitting at a desk, and I told him to draw a picture of me. He started, but kept getting interrupted by the old woman, who was bothering him to try and find her telephone number on this very cool steampunk themed computer, so I could call her when I got back home. With the rabid teenagers beating on the door, I finally yelled at him to hurry up, and he yelled back "Why do you want me to draw this picture so bad?!" Then I got all teary and I shouted "Because I just want you to have something to remember me by!" His face got really sad and we hugged each other tightly. He motioned to a navy blue dress lying on the ground (which was actually a dress I'd contemplated buying in Forever 21 the day before) and smiled sadly, saying "I'll always have something to remember you by." I'm not entirely sure what he was implying with that dress, but it was very sweet.

The room was huge now, like half early 1900s office and half exotic garden. We crossed a small bridge over a shallow pond, holding each other and kissing tearfully. I heard the kid shout out the the dirigible was ready...

And then I woke up. Typical dream ending.

I'm going to have to rate that dream as one of my top 10 strangest/coolest dreams of all time. I don't know what it was all about, but the ending was very bittersweet. Uh, again, sorry you got killed in my dream, Tanis.

WHOA that took a long time to type, and I am sick at the moment, so that took a lot out of me. Also, Max just caught the biggest fucking spider in a cup like, oh my god, so fucking big. It's been a big day for me, I better be heading off to bed now, old lady that I am. Hope you enjoyed reading the contents of my brain!