I get such a dorky excitement when I get an email from the Chicago Public Library system telling me that one of my inter-library loan books is available for pickup. It's like Christmas morning! OMG WHAT DO I GET? WHAT DO I GET?? For those interested, the book that came in today is Looking for salvation at the Dairy Queen : a novel. I am not fond of the subtitle "a novel". Is that not a tad redundant? A novel? And I thought this here was a pizza. Huh. Guess I'll have to find something else for dinner.
In other news, I am back to having some really bizarre dreams again. This morning I woke up from a dream where a couple of little people* were helping me move some of my grandparents stuff out of a spaceship which was being converted into a nuclear reactor. For some reason we kept taking loads of stuff over this complicated series of ramps and tunnels that looked a bit like hamster tunnels, except they were made out of soft foam. After a few trips out I got a bright idea and moved them out of the way so we could just walk on the floor carrying stuff out, and the little people got mad at me. The guy was really going off on me about how thoughtless I was being by not asking before I moved the foam tunnels. The last thing I remember before my alarm went off was him yelling something about "LANCE motherfucking ARMSTRONG". I really wish I could go back and see where that rant ended up, because DUDE.
* I get all of my PC terms from television. Is "little people" the correct term? Maybe people of short stature? People even shorter than my mom? People with some form of dwarfism? I have no idea.
Sometime last week I had a dream that someone brought a bunch of kittens over to our house, and Piper (our crazy-cat who is on anti-depressants) sort of adopted one and was bathing it and I was super excited because Piper is a big reason why we can't get any more animals, because in real life she is all "two legs good, four legs bad!" I don't think she got the point of Animal Farm at all, stupid cat. Anyway, so in the dream Piper was all for us keeping the kittens, and as I was searching for T to tell her the good news I noticed that most of the kittens were part purple. Not like they got something on their fur, but their actual fur was purple. Also, some of them were tiny dogs that could fit in the palm of my hand. And the tiny dogs had tiny sleeping bags. And no one thought it odd that tiny dogs in tiny sleeping bags were somehow part of a litter of purple kittens. The best part was when I came across the parents of this delightful pile of purple kittens and tiny puppies and the adult cats had...duck bills. I don't get it either.
I go through phases like this often, where my dreams are incredibly vivid and detailed and totally, undeniably bat-shit crazy. I'm not sure what it is that causes them, unless it is all that crack I'm doing before bed. Except I don't actually know how to "do" crack. Is that one of those drugs that you snort? Huff? Eat? Smoke? I have no idea. I really suck at doing crack. I should just stick to doing cookie dough. Good sugar high, and I'm positive that sitting on the couch and eating it with a spoon is the correct use of said cookie dough.
Obviously.
