Friday, September 30, 2005


My mind is in the clouds. I'm a dreamer. My hopes will build up so high, they are destined to fly away like a kite that's lost it's string, destined to get tangled in a live wire and burn to a crisp. And all I will have left is what I began with, a dream.
I'm still not sure what exactly it is, or what I would do if it came true. So I tried to stop thinking about it. I don't want to have to seek it out this time. It should happen naturally. It's this partially finished puzzle that's been sitting out for 10 years collecting dust. I keep trying to put the wrong pieces into place because I want them to fit so badly. But it'll never be finished. As many pieces as I take, I give as many away. My edges are frayed and worn from trying to fit where they don't belong. Perhaps I could learn how to take your shape, and find somewhere we could both fit into place.

Wednesday, September 28, 2005

different camera, same crazy look

Still not much of a photographer, as you can see.
My cat looks like she's posessed and has something to say!

I can't help but look like a deer in the freakin headlights. But eh, that's what I'll put up for now, until I can't stand it and take it down. Seriously, I freak myself out.

Random oddity

On my way home from work today, I was behind this early 90s red Buick. On the back window, neatly centered, was one lone bumper sticker. In a delicate white scripty font it read "I'm A Cock Sucker" - I had to smile.

Good songs for sad days part 2

Between the Bars - Elliott Smith

Drink up, baby, stay up all night
With the things you could do, you won't but you might
The potential you'll be that you'll never see
The promises you'll only make

Drink up with me now and forget all about
The pressure of days, do what I say
And I'll make you okay and drive them away
The images stuck in your head

People you've been before that you
Don't want around anymore
That push and shove and won't bend to your will
I'll keep them still

Drink up, baby, look at the stars
I'll kiss you again, between the bars
Where I'm seeing you there, with your hands in the air
Waiting to finally be caught

Drink up one more time and I'll make you mine
Keep you apart, deep in my heart
Seperate from the rest, where I like you the best
And keep the things you forgot

People you've been before that you
Don't want around anymore
That push and shove and won't bend to your will
I'll keep them still

Tuesday, September 27, 2005

Silly post #108

Ever embarrassed yourself not by saying the wrong thing, but saying the words incorrectly? There are some words that just make me giggle when they are mispronounced. I'm guilty of this too, sometimes the first time you see a word you just get it in your head how it would sound, and even after you're corrected, it's hard to forget. It wasn't that long ago that I said film noir as film no-eer or pronounced wanton as won-ton but hey, those are words I don't often use!

I always thought it was funny that when my dad says white, it's like he switches the w and the h around and says "hwite" - I don't know, maybe that's old school.

My favorite mispronunciation came from a lady I used to work with. She was known for this, or just using the wrong words. Like I don't know how many times when listening to the radio she said "Ooh, that's Jason Timbaland!" and I would say "Goddamnit, it's Justin Timberlake, I told you that 5 minutes ago!" But the best was when she was making a comment about having a big butt, and trying to say derriere but said "my big di-ah-ree-er" which just, you know, doesn't sound good.

Monday, September 26, 2005

Where it stops, nobody knows

Monday. Bleh. Work to be done and all that crap. Had stuff I wanted to write about, but that will have to wait a little bit.
So, Jim's gone (from It's Jim), and seems as if he's pretty sure he's not coming back. He will be missed. Did something awful happen, did something wonderful happen to make him do away with his entire blog? Will he change his mind? I don't know. I thought you people knew you couldn't leave the friendship/support group thing we have going on here! Okay, okay you can leave - we just like to know what's going on. Hope everybody is doing well.

By the way, the new Death Cab for Cutie album, "Plans" is pretty fucking cool man! It's good for that quiet, reflective, thoughtful, tears falling into your coffee kind of mood. In a good way.

Saturday, September 24, 2005

"Say A Prayer for Texas"

I'll be thinking of those of my southern blogger friends, especially Blush and Dave. You're some wonderful folks and I hope you're all somewhere safe. If SayUnderpants isn't back from her cruise, I hope she's made it safely away from the danger.

You know I worry - it's my thing.

I love you people!

Thursday, September 22, 2005

Boobs can't always be free

I had this idea that perhaps I should carry a spare bra around with me.

I've got plenty in my drawer that aren't getting much use. What can I say? You know, if something's on clearance and well, it's pretty close to my, it'll probably work. Or that's what I tell myself. I don't want to try it on - hell no! It looks like it'll fit, what, should I hold it up to myself and look in the mirror? Eh, fuck it, I'll buy it anyway because it's cute. And then it sits in my drawer and doesn't get worn, or it gets worn once and I either have a bad day of strap-adjusting or boob lifting, or I have trouble breathing, and it gets tossed back in the drawer. So why do I buy bras that might not be my size? Sometimes it's a matter of wishful thinking. I guess now, finally at the age of 27 I should accept the fact that my boobs probably aren't going to keep growing, ya know? I mean, they're a good handful, but my hands are pretty small. The other thing is that even though there are universal charts for measuring your bra size, all manufacturers seem to vary. I personally like the ones that run small, so I can buy the next cup size up, look at the cashier like yeah, that's right!

But anyways, why in the hell would I carry one of these spare uncomfortable bras around with me? Well, simple: there are women out there who desperately need them, and they might as well be put to good use. You know a woman's in a bad way if she's got nips the size of cocktail weenies that are just hanging out under an ill-fitting shirt. The kind that make you sort of grimace and try not to look like it's bothering you. It makes me sad. I don't think it's on purpose. Going bra-less in the summer, wearing a halter top or tank is one thing if you've got small boobs, but this just aint right. And twice at my new job, women have come in asking me for something or other with this problem. This goes along with another story I have about people off the street being drawn to me because I'm a target for the homeless/mentally ill/crackhead type (and as you remember - anyone selling anything). I'm really not the type that doesn't care about these people, and I'm not trying to be insensitive. Other people have told me to NOT give money or anything to these beggars, but since I'm not using these bras anyway... I could at least offer the ladies some uhh... support?

Good songs for sad days part 1

"A Lack Of Color" - Death Cab for Cutie

And when i see you
I really see you upside down
But my brain knows better
It picks you up and turns you around
Turns you around, turns you around

If you feel discouraged
That there's a lack of color here
Please don't worry, lover
It's really bursting at the seems
Absorbing everything
The spectrum's a to z

This is fact not fiction
For the first time in years
And all the girls in every girlie magazine
Can't make me feel any less alone
I'm reaching for the phone

To call at 7:03
and on your machine I slur a plea for you to come home
But i know it's too late
I should have given you a reason to stay
Given you a reason to stay [x3]

This is fact not fiction
For the first time in years

Wednesday, September 21, 2005

New cam - still getting the hang of it

"Misdemeanor" Muffers

Being blessed by the cat

Creepy laundry room

Tuesday, September 20, 2005

Skanks a plenty

So the other day this little boy came running up to me and said "Hey, hey lady! Do you have children?" and I was kind of like "No" like he should know that. But then I realized I'm the only one my age around here that doesn't have a little kid running around. Our building has become a popular place for some skanky baby-mommas and all they drama. What really pisses me off lately is when they sit outside on the front stoop (I can't even call it a front porch, it's not made to look inviting) ignoring their kids, being loud and blocking the entranceway. That's nice, so you can't just go about your business without having to cross these people. The newest neighbors have a little girl whom I've introduced myself to, but her "parents" are unlikely to give you a nod of recognition. I have no idea which baby daddy is which, but daaaang, these girls like some nasty dudes. Here's some examples of baby daddy requirements:

  • must have truck that needs to be worked on and makes a lot of noise
  • must get into verbal arguments in the parking lot about visitation rights
  • must be shirtless or wear sleeveless shirts and baseball hats
  • must have at least 3 creepy friends to come along when visiting the baby momma
  • must be at least partially redneck or whiteboy-thug
So, just another example of apartment life at it's finest!
I don't want to get paranoid, but that's what I do. I keep smelling something weird that's like the chemicals in a perm or sulfur. I can't figure out if it's just our nasty water or our nasty neighbors.

Monday, September 19, 2005

My 100th post = ehh, same old stuff...

Alright. Here's a recap of the blog so far, in case you're new around here and didn't catch season one of Nervous Thoughts. I went back and reviewed my archives to give you an example of the types of posts on this blog:

  • 21% personal stories/memories/dreams
  • 19% pictures
  • 16% attempts at humor
  • 14% nonsense
  • 13% observations
  • 8% depressed stuff
  • 8% work stories

Yep, I nerded out like that. But I'm not making a pie chart.

Here's something cute to look at, though - the red panda! It's about time to start working in some of these zoo pictures from 2 years ago.

Sunday, September 18, 2005


Do you ever have dreams that start out as uninhibited and incredibly hot, then twist into something completely lame? Well, it's quite frustrating. Or do you ever end up being rejected in your dreams? How bad is that, when you're rejected in your own fantasies? It happens to me sometimes, but that is probably because I am messed up and even my subconscious knows that.
It's always the leading up to it that's the exciting part, but then before anything happens something ruins it or it morphs into another dream.

This can't be right

Your Seduction Style: Sex Pot

Tradionally known as a "siren", "rake", or "femme fatale." You exude sensuality.
And while your sexiness is part of what makes you an incredible seducer...
Your ability to make others feel sexy is what really makes your seduction skills shine.

Most people don't feel attractive or desired enough - a need which you tap into.
You have the ultimate sex appeal, and getting attention from you is a total self esteem boost.
Your confidence is contagious, and you help others unleash their own sexuality.

Your sex pot seduction skills are so intoxicating that you can get away with... well, almost murder.
Lovers feel like your sensuality is in your blood, so it's only natural if you flirt a little.
And if you stray, that might be okay as well - as long as you make your lover still feel hot.

Friday, September 16, 2005

Bad Combination

fucked up already
bad blog post

Oh, and I have no idea what I'm doing with PhotoShop.
And yes, this picture is very unflattering.
Nope, the new camera didn't show up.

Getting closer

I've been tracking my online purchase and I'm thinking it might even arrive today! I rarely buy myself anything really nice, (which, in my case this is more than I would normally spend) so I hope that it's worth it. Anyone out there have this camera? Reviews?

So you know what that means! I'll be posting more pics soon. Of what, I do not know yet...

Not too surprised

Your Inner Child Is Scared

Like a kid, you tend to shy away from new experiences.
You prefer what's tried and true - novelty is scary!
New foods, new places, and new friends are difficult for you to deal with.
Some say you're predictable, but you enjoy being comfortable.

I'm not normally big on taking quizzes, but this one kinda goes with the territory. Let me know what you get if you take it.
I'll be hiding under the covers.

Wednesday, September 14, 2005

The rain and the brain

Does anyone else get the sinus pressure headaches, especially when it rains? Barometric pressure and whatnot. Yesterday, the whole right side of my head hurt and was stuffed up, and now it's aching and stuffy on the left side.
So, a sort of related story. I was reading about a claim today in which the doctor made an incision in the right side of the patient's brain before he realized it was supposed to be the left side. I can just picture the surgeon in the operating room, though. "Now when you say left side, do you mean my left or his left?"

Tuesday, September 13, 2005

Skin Care

So, last night we were at Target (by the way, I found this blog dedicated to being obsessed with Target - how cool!) and I was seriously considering some new face care products. Yes, I realize this may be pretty boring to the guys out there, or anyone for that matter. Bear with me.

I've never had an actual facial. I write this and chuckle. Shut up, you know what I mean. Speaking of which, I am SO glad that the time my mom was over and we were looking for a picture on my guy's computer, she didn't ask what the folder titled "facial" was for. Heyyy-O!

Alright, out of the gutter. So it seems like lately the big hubub is all alpha-hydroxy this and microdermabrasion that. I am getting older, and I don't know where to start. Those microdermabrasion kits are kinda expensive and look like an Acuvibe for your face. They come with some exfoliating scrub and some sponge applicators that you put on the vibrator thingy and then go to town on your face. They claim to take about 10 years off. I saw a makeover show recently where someone had this professionally done, and it is really like they just sand off a layer of your face. It did give that person a nice healthy glow, but damn. Don't forget that I'm cheap. I already have lots of half used skin care products that didn't do much of what they said. Would it just be the same if I used some gritty face scrub and scrubbed really hard? Or if I just used some sandpaper? I'm not ruining a perfectly good vibrator with that stuff though.

Speaking of skincare, don't you love that commercial for ProActiv with Jessica Simpson? "In my videos, they had to go in and digitally *fix* my face" but it sounds like that quote was digitally *fixed*. And I love it when she does that pouty little girl look and says "my skin needed to be disciplined." Fuckin...Anyway.

Speaking of skincare and masturbation... At one of my old jobs, I had a couple crazy older ladies ask me how I took care of my skin. (Not even MaryKay reps either this time!) Uhh... I take birth control pills and use a gentle foaming cleanser? Well then one of them wanted to write down what products I use and what makeup I wear and all that. The other lady (on a separate occasion) told me that washing your face is the worst thing you can do for it. So she would just smear her face with vaseline instead. I didn't take her suggestion. She said another thing that was good to use is a Waterpik with really cold water blasting on your face. She then tells me the Waterpik is also good for personal pleasure when her husband's not around, wink wink. And yes, this was all at the drive-thru window. I was repeating this story later to my boyfriend and mixing up the details and told him "this old lady told me to masturbate with an icepik!" A look of horror came over his face and I realized what I had said. Oops.
Well anyway, I didn't buy one of those sanding kits. Sweet, tired, wanting-to-get-the-hell-out-of-Target boyfriend said "all you need to do to look 10 years younger is to smile" Aww.

Monday, September 12, 2005

Mom said a bad word!

When I was growing up, I never heard my mom swear. She was the type that would say in a moment of frustration "Oh, dang!" or "Geez!" and would even give us the evil eye if we said "Oh my GOD" as that was taking the Lord's name in vain, and we better not have dared to say "Goddamnit." She still holds a grudge against Eddie Murphy because she somehow saw a comedy special of his in the 80s where "every other word was the F-word".
So nowadays, I think it's hilarious to hear my mom swear. It's sort of like she tried to shelter me so much that I feel like sheltering her now, like she doesn't know that these words even exist. But she's come around quite a bit and will allow herself to occasionally say "shit" or "bitch" and has even been known (in rare circumstances) to drop the f-bomb - in a hushed voice of course.
Now my guy on the other hand, grew up in a family where swearing was okay. One of my favorite stories was about how when he was in elementary school, his mom got a call from the principal because her son had said "fuck". As it was more common at the time, they were going to give him some sort of corporal punishment. I don't know if it was with a paddle or what. But they called his mom first, who responded with "you're not going to lay a fucking finger on my kid!" and came to pick him up. Yay mom! Fuckin A!
Still, even now I cringe if he happens to swear or say anything inappropriate in front of my mom. His humor is great, I love it, and it's never anything directed at her or said in anger, but... I nearly died when he was telling her about the show Deadwood and how they say "cocksucker" all the time. The word cocksucker came up about 5 times in that conversation and led me to give him a fierce elbowing when she wasn't looking. But my mom laughed and everything, so maybe it's okay as long as he's saying it and not me. Maybe he's trying to test her. The other day she was commenting on a restaurant that was called BD's grill or something and she said she wondered what the BD stood for. He says "I'm guessing it's not bondage & discipline" which was funny but again, I wanted to be swallowed up into the ground. She laughed though. I guess now I'm the prude.

Bitter Restaurant Banter

How long are you willing to wait for a table at a restaurant?
Yeah, I guess it depends on how much you want to eat there, like if you know it's going to be awesome and worth it, I guess I can see waiting for it.
We don't live in that small of a town, but not that large of one either. It appears that we have a decent amount and variety of restaurants in the area. But trying to go out on a Friday night is ridiculous. No one takes reservations and everywhere is packed. But still, we were in good spirits and felt like going out.
So we tried for probably the 5th time in the last couple years to go to the stupid Outback Steakhouse. Every time we go, there's a helluva long wait, people are lined up outside and shit. We figured it must be pretty good, considering it's always packed. This time there was a 20 minute wait, and we found that reasonable. We sat at the bar and observed the hokey boomerangs and koala bears stapled to the walls. He got an overpriced beer. It probably ended up being about a half hour before they set off our little pager thing to let us know we had a table. Then we go up to the hostess stand and the two hostesses are doing nothing but singing along with the music and are like "oh yeah, you're table's being bussed it'll just be a few more minutes" which is sort of like, why did you call us up here then, bitches? But anyways. They finally take us to one of those crap tables that has an uncomfortable chair on one side and a backless bench on the other. Fine. We're both quite hungry and start perusing our menus. After just a minute, he looks at me and says "I don't know about you, but I don't think I want to eat here." I figure he's overreacting, and we can find something but when I look at it - he's right. There are some really lame ass choices and WAY overpriced for what you get. Your choices are a steak for $12.99, a different steak for $15.99, another steak for $17.99 and some other lame crap like fettucine alfredo disguised under some aussie name. Wow, how authentico! No sandwich options either, all overpriced entrees. Yeah, we might sound cheap and in some ways we are, but you just get the sense of how much chain restaurant food is really worth and can't bring yourself to pay that much for food you could make better yourself and not have to be in a craptacular environment. So he finished his beer and we told the waiter we were leaving. He didn't seem surprised at all like this must happen a lot. I guess it just wasn't meant to be.
Unfortunately, we went to 2 other restaurants that had 35-45 minute waits before finally going somewhere that we could actually get a table.
I don't even expect that much out of restaurants, but damnit, there's another one to cross off the list!

Friday, September 09, 2005

Overanalyzing a fortune cookie

Our most recent chinese food experience left us with this fortune to ponder:

You have tasted the bitterness as well as the sweetness of coffee

Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but this doesn't really even qualify as a fortune, now does it? I am not enlightened. It has not predicted or suggested anything. It's just like "yep, here's a random statement".
It's not even any better if you attach "in bed" to the end. It would be more deep and vague if they just left off the "of coffee" don't you think?
This makes me wonder if perhaps the guy making up the fortunes was having a rough morning reaching his quota. Not much sleep the night before, boss was on his ass to make a deadline. Maybe someone came up and asked if they could get him anything, and he said "a cup of coffee" and then later realized "oh shit... not again! I gotta start proofreading these damn things! No more talking while typing for me!"

Or are they saying there was bittersweet coffee in our chinese food?


Here's a song that I remember from the 80s and always liked, but if you listen to the lyrics it sounds like a pervy old man trying to get some hot teenage poontang... at least he's trying to be romantic about it though. I can understand it and all, it just makes me wonder where all the sugar daddies were when I was 16? Oh, I'm kidding.

"Into the Night (If I Could Fly)" Benny Mardones
She's just sixteen years old
Leave her alone, they say
Separated by fools
Who don't know what love is yet
But I want you to know
If I could fly
I'd pick you up
I'd take you into the night
And show you a love
Like you've never seen, ever seen

It's like having a dream
Where nobody has a heart
It's like having it all
And watching it fall apart
And I would wait till the end
Of time for you
And do it again, it's true
I can't measure my love
There's nothing to compare it to
But I want you to know
If I could fly
I'd pick you up
I'd take you into the night
And show you a love
Like you've never seen, ever seen...

A "Blog-Con" in my mind

What if we had some big blogger convention? I know, I'm a dork. I can just picture us all in some big convention center with our little "Hi, my name is" stickers on, with our blogger profile names. So I'd be like "Oh, look over there! It's SayUnderpants, awesome!" and she'd be like "but I have a real name, and you already know it" but I'd still want to call people by their blogger names. I'd try to hug all of you people that I read and comment back and forth with because I love you in a non-creepy way! It would be so cool. Or I would just be a wallflower, I don't know. I hope you'd talk to me...
I'd find out where Dave and Dwight were hanging out cause that's where the laughter and goodies would be. Yossarian would be nowhere to be found and people would be asking about him. "Oh, I thought I saw him with XTX... no maybe he's with Blush... no, maybe they're all together and they didn't invite the rest of us!" Damn!
And of course I'd want to hang out with Lovely Lisa who I'm probably closest in geographical location to, plus we could giggle and talk about boys and music and stuff.
There would be plenty of booze and smoke and snacks and music and all that good stuff. But then maybe we wouldn't want to blog about it afterward because the mystery would be revealed and it wouldn't be the same. Then again it's just a crazy idea that I am imagining because I don't have a lot of friends in real life. Don't worry, I'm not a stalker, just a dork.

But yeah, it would be sweet. Mingle! Make awkward comments! Talk amongst yourselves!

*if I didn't mention your blog, don't be offended - it's not that I don't think you're wonderful too, it's just I either don't know you as well, I don't know what to say, or I'm trying not to embarrass myself further...

Thursday, September 08, 2005

ill communication

I'm a procrastinator. I don't know exactly how long I've been like this, but somewhere along the line it got out of hand. And of course, instead of really doing something about it, I'm going to blog about it!

But, do you know how it is? When you haven't talked to someone in sooo long and you just don't know where to start? Are they going to be happy to hear from you or is it too late to make up for lost time? They're still there in your mind, you think about them quite a bit more than they think you do. You want to call, you want to write, but... you just put it off a little longer.

With me, this usually refers to family members. I know, staying in touch with the family is a good and responsible thing to do. Our family has a bit of a problem with communication though. I think that can be okay, as long as everyone accepts it. Like some families I know don't spend a lot of time on the phone with each other and only see each other every few months, but everyone's okay with that. In my case, it pisses people off and hurts their feelings. But you don't know my family! My older brothers have been known to take off without a trace for months at a time, but it's not okay for me. It's too much to explain here, but we're big on the guilt trips and not coming out and expressing our feelings. So, for example if my brothers and I haven't talked for a while, my mom starts nagging me to call them or my dad tries getting them to call me or write me. (For the record, I was almost always the one to take the lead in communication with my brothers, eventually I just got tired of it.)My mom will bug me about talking to my dad on a regular basis, and my dad in turn tells me to spend more time with my mom - even though these two have been divorced for nearly 20 years! They mean well, most of the time.

Sometimes I still find myself avoiding them. As awful as it is, and as guilty as it makes me feel, I know I should just let it go and call. The damn Catholic guilt gets me. I know there are a lot of dysfunctional families worse than mine and I should be grateful that they do want to keep in touch with me, and that I even have parents. But sometimes there's really nothing going on in my life that I care to tell them about. Things that make me happy do not usually make them happy for me. They also have heard for years about my depression and anxiety and while they try to understand, they still make me feel at times like it's my fault and I should just brush it off. I still get preached to and given strong suggestions and comments that make me feel as if they are terribly disappointed in me, although I'm really doing better than I had been over the last few years. It's still not what they wanted, and it's never enough. So why would I want to walk right into that situation if I don't have to?

I know, I've gotta stop being a coward and just deal with it. I've got to speak up for myself instead of taking all the hurt and shame and anger upon myself. So umm, maybe I'll do that tomorrow.

Tuesday, September 06, 2005

Memories from a childhood picture

  1. The dining room and part of the kitchen had that "trippy if you stare at it too long" wallpaper pattern. I think it's called houndstooth. That's one of those words that usually refers to a pattern on clothing, yet it just doesn't sound quite right. Like herringbone.
  2. Look at that! A double decker cage, pretty pimped out in there with that wheel and.... umm.... a tube, and... well, what more do they need? Those were my brother's gerbils, named Bernard & Bianca. Let's not talk about Bernard's demise. Let's not.
  3. I know you're jealous of my badass pink velour pantsuit.
  4. Dad's record cabinet, a few that I remember are The Beatles' first album, The Rolling Stones first album, Donovan, The Ventures and The Four Seasons.
  5. Back in the day, you'd be in big trouble if you messed with the record player.
  6. It's hard to see, but that's our infamous green shag carpet, which covered a good portion of the house. This was the kind of shag carpet that requires a carpet rake. Seriously, a carpet rake. Fluff it up for company, you know.

Bahhhh Tuesday

I don't know about today. Maybe it's the back to work after a long weekend blues. Maybe it's that I didn't get much sleep last night. Maybe I just want to laze about some more while not dealing with real life. I feel like I'm on the verge of a very bad mood. That doesn't do anyone any good, so I better just snap out of it!
I'm a brunette now. I don't know if it suits me, but I just wanted to take a break from my usual red. Brown always looks too dark at first, but hopefully it's not too freaky. My guy did a very nice job as he always does. He makes sure he gets it even, doesn't drip it in my eyes and is careful about not pulling too much. Very sweet and patient. I hope he knows how much I appreciate it.
I'm trying to work on some posts, really! I feel bad for not keeping up with my writing, but then again you all don't need to be reading pages and pages of blah-de-blah like this. Sometimes I just don't have much to say that makes any sense. Bear with me, I'm cleaning out the cobwebs.

Thursday, September 01, 2005

I won't even say it


Are you too into blogging if you dream about blogging and other bloggers?

It's just kinda funny cause I build you people up in my mind like you're celebrities - well, in the way that I try to imagine what you're like in real life but there's a very slim chance of really knowing. So you're almost at the same imaginary level. Well anyways, last night I had a dream that I met HemisphereDancer and he was so nice! Oh shush, we just talked! I think we were both heading down South to help rescue people. He didn't have an accent, I don't know if he really does but I was all talking like I was from the U.P. like "oh yaah, doncha know" even though I don't really talk like that unless I'm imitating someone. Anyways, it was pretty cool. There have been other dreams about more of you out there.... I will try to write something about them when they happen so you can be embarrassed too! Yay!