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Apr. 6th, 2007 12:35 pmI've been having really weird dreams lately, wtf? I just woke up from a dream where I was trying to play my old LP of Layla and Other Assorted Love Songs, and it wouldn't play because something that looked like old varnish was bubbled and peeling from it, and it was warped. This was probably the worst dream of all recently, because I love that album!
Before that I dreamed I was (erm, how do I put this?) in a situation that would have made an interesting slashfic, only I'm not a guy and therefore am not, erm equipped? Also, the other person in question is someone with whom I'd never even consider being in such a situation (Yeah, yeah, the only thing I dream about ever that resembles sex and it's direct from Bizarro!World and isn't sexy in the least). I fail at dream!sex.
Somewhere in the mix last night I dreamt that Oldest Daughter was pregnant. I was mostly concerned with buying her a Hotsling and making sure she never entered the Baby Factory.
A couple of days ago I dreamt that Stephen Harper was one of my patients (which if true, would have explained a few things), which would have been weird enough if he actually looked like himself. But I wasn't even afforded that tiny bit of realism; no, he had to go and look like the Well-Manicured Man from the X-Files. At least I can console myself that he wasn't the person in Dream #2.
The conclusions might be:
1. Nostalgia is so thirty years ago, so get over it.
2. Fried ice cream might not have been such a good dessert. Also reading lots of con reports in a row.
3. I like Hotslings?
4. I am a giant giant dork even in my dreams.
Before that I dreamed I was (erm, how do I put this?) in a situation that would have made an interesting slashfic, only I'm not a guy and therefore am not, erm equipped? Also, the other person in question is someone with whom I'd never even consider being in such a situation (Yeah, yeah, the only thing I dream about ever that resembles sex and it's direct from Bizarro!World and isn't sexy in the least). I fail at dream!sex.
Somewhere in the mix last night I dreamt that Oldest Daughter was pregnant. I was mostly concerned with buying her a Hotsling and making sure she never entered the Baby Factory.
A couple of days ago I dreamt that Stephen Harper was one of my patients (which if true, would have explained a few things), which would have been weird enough if he actually looked like himself. But I wasn't even afforded that tiny bit of realism; no, he had to go and look like the Well-Manicured Man from the X-Files. At least I can console myself that he wasn't the person in Dream #2.
The conclusions might be:
1. Nostalgia is so thirty years ago, so get over it.
2. Fried ice cream might not have been such a good dessert. Also reading lots of con reports in a row.
3. I like Hotslings?
4. I am a giant giant dork even in my dreams.
