2007-06-20
idiots avant
so, I give up. There's no way in hades that I can finish breakfast and coffee and computerizing before 9:30 am. Also I am resigned to starting every blog entry ever with "So,".
Maybe this will help my nightmares go away.
As I stumbled to the kitchen this morning, sleep still fresh in my head, I realized a theme of my dreams as of late, that makes them into nightmares. They're all about being unprepared, uninformed, out of my league, late, and lost. And often in the snow with neither socks, shoes nor smokes.
For example, last night I dreamed that somehow I made it through the elimination rounds of "So You Think You Can Dance" (disguised as American Idol) to be in the top 20, based on my charm and wedding dance stylz alone. By this point, of course, like all people who pretend they are content with their everyday mediocre and not famous lives, I was thinking to myself that maybe I was one of those "idiot savants" who could really go far if they dropped the "idiot" part and started trying.
So then I got the schedule of events and workshops that are supposed to help you improve. First thing I notice, everything starts at 5:35 am. Second thing I notice, I'm following some giant in a holocaust cloak up and down frozen metal stairs, barefoot, trying to find the cafeteria. We finally get there and my parents wave at me to come join them. "Jesus christ!" I think, "I just want a cigarette, a coffee, some shoes, and to find this workshop that'll expand my dance repertoire!" But I can no longer read, am on a ship where I am either invisible or a giant nerd -- in both cases, no one speaks to me -- and have missed not only the crucial lessons and pep talks, but night time and breakfast.
Extreme shitshow.
And, for good measure, a few nights ago I had a nightmare that I wrote in a library book with pen.
I HATE people who do that.
Yes, I hate the sinner and the sin.
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In other news, the best thing about summer is not noticing when you don't have pants on.
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Wows! And I just noticed that, with the exception of one renegade entry, it's been almost exactly one year (To Tha Day!) since I dropped silently out of diaryland, like a silky ribbon of a fart. What might this mean...
pansycline at 9:25 a.m.