Monday, May 11, 2009

Cathartic Creepiness

Ok, so this morning I had a super creepy dream. Really. It was incredibly creepy. I don't know what it means, and I don't have a Lifeline to Sigmund Freud. Interpret away. Unless you don't want to be creeped out.

It's really odd that I still remember it - normally I remember dreams when I wake up, if at all, and think something along the lines of: "well, that was fun" or "huh," and promptly forget it. But this one I still remember . . .

Ok, so I'm on a team of four people, no idea who exactly they are, but people I know and care about. There are other teams too. We're all in a large room with a glass floor in it, and under the floor is a dragon. Well, just the head of a dragon, it's rather large. The floor rolls back and the dragon opens its eye. Now, this is not an evil dragon, but it is carnivorous. And sphynx-like. We have to each answer a question, in turns, in our teams. If we get the answer wrong, the dragon eats us. Well, actually, we have to feed ourselves to dragon. Which at one point morphed into a sort of body a grub/earthworm thing with the torso of a woman. So apparently my subconscious worked out to sphynx thing and went for it, only in a nasty way. With a dose of inspiration from the South Park episode with Space Cash. Anyway, it was gross. Climbing into an earthworm stomach is disgusting. Also, at one point the earthworm/woman thing was starving and this guard sacrificed himself by climbing on in. Yergh. And like I said, I liked all the other teams, so while I wanted to be left standing, I didn't want them to go done. Quite dreadful.

So . . . is this an analogy for finals or am I insane? Mystery . . . hope I sleep better tonight. Last final tomorrow, woot woot.

Saturday, May 02, 2009

The Derby (pronounced "Dahby")

"She ran with the heart of a locomotive, on champagne-glass ankles . . ."


I can't watch racing anymore. I'll just wait for the news people to tell me what horse broke a leg and had to be shot. Plus, even Derby winners don't always get retired to pasture after they finish their racing careers - a lot of them end up in dog food. Really. Like Black Beauty. So I'm doing homework instead.