(Pardon the grammar, but these are just quick write-ups of my dreams.
They are not essays or great works of literature. Just dreams, folks. Don't be hatin'.)

Thursday, June 9, 2011

Arkansas license plate


I'm road-tripping with my parents.

At first I'm driving through Ohio and kind of just going because I assume just going will get me to where we want to go.

All of a sudden I need to know where we are because the road has turned from highway into town road. And the car in front of us has an Arkansas license plate.

Turns out we are in Arkansas. And I hate Arkansas.

I ask my dad, who is in the back seat, where we went wrong and how to fix it.

He tells me to take a right up ahead onto some "highway". And I follow him, because he's got the tiny atlas.

This highway ends up being a dead-end on some peninsula. We decide to stay at the hotel there to figure out how to get out of Arkansas and back on track.

My dad just ends up pissing me off because he cannot read the maps. I take them from him and devise my own plan to get out of this state and on to the next one. Somehow this involves going through Tennessee.

With my hatred for Arkansas I end up pissing off a lot of locals. Especially two men who are helping us with our stay at the hotel.

Wednesday, June 8, 2011

Living Bones 'n' Airports


Dream one:

I felt the urge to donate my bones. The ones I didn't need so much, like some of the ones in my feet and one in my arm.

Because there was a severe need for alive bone.

And I always feel compelled to donate. Because I'm a bleeding heart. And I have more than I need.

So I did. And it turns out there's a long recovery time; my muscles needed to find new bones to reattach to.

For awhile I was kind of like a blob of a person.

Dream two:

In an airport. Or on my way into an airport.

Zack's there. And a couple of other people.

We're going somewhere.

It's raining outside.

The chick looking at my ticket is shocked to learn that I am older than she is. She could have sworn I was in high school.

We board the plane last. Find lame seats.

People step on my bag under the seat.