Yesterday evening I was feeling groggy after a large family meal and I thought, as I do several times a year “I’ll just have a nap” and I let myself drift off to sleep. Now I’m waking up just a few hours before I should actually be going to sleep. Napping is not a skill that PDR possesses.

When I go to sleep, my body apparently thinks “Well, let us make this stick as long as possible” no matter what I think. I seem to be getting more and more able to turn off my alarm without waking and, unless my phone is lying to me, I seem to have checked a text message in my sleep yesterday. I value awake-times much more than sleep-times and this is not ideal. I guess it is my own fault for making naps such a rare part of my habits. I never slept on buses or in school or any of the places I could have trained my nap-senses (the only time I’ve even slept on an airplane was on a fourteen hour flight and was a proper sleep, not a nap). I suppose this is my own fault for not fostering proper napabilities when I could. And now, something must be done. I guess, from this point on, I just need to tell myself: No more naps. If I feel like I could use a nap, I am to tell myself “Shut up, dummy!” and stick to awakeness.

Well, I’ve really got no point to this complainy post save that I felt like I should write something to account for my confusion of my sleeping schedule (Also I’m not quite awake yet). Gotta get something out of it. Still, as I said quite recently, I’m big on dreams. My dream last night had dinosaurs. That counts as a point in my favor, but now I have to try to readjust in time for work tonight… We shall see.

Well, I’m pretty sure I left my copy of Brighton Rock on a bus someplace. It could be worse, I was only a couple pages into it, so I wasn’t all that invested (when I lost my copy of Don Quixote a few years back, I had invested months of reading time into it, so I needed to buy another copy), but I hope that someone finds and reads it. That’s the best result we can hope for at this point.

Haiku!

You ain’t never seen
a truck like this one before.
It has ballistae.

There was this thing in the paper last night about some Austrian priests who wanted to see some changes in the Church and the Pope was all like “Nah”, well fear not Austrian priests. When I am the Pope, I will have your back. Just get me in there, guys.

Something I’ve seen many times over the years over the years on television and the Internet is people saying that talking about one’s dreams makes one a bore. Basically what it all boils down to is the message that “Yeah, dreams are weird, we get it.” Well I hate to go against television and the Internet, but I am here to say that I totally like hearing about dreams. I often like hearing about dreams more than I like hearing about actual things that have happened to people.

Maybe somehow the complainers have just been so overwhelmed by descriptions of dreams that it has grown tiresome, but as someone who doesn’t do a whole lot of talking to people (and talking about dreams makes up such a small, small portion of that talking) this is not a problem for me. I love the surreality of dreams so much that my own occasionally remembered dreams are not enough to fill my interest. Hearing about good strangeness from the subconsciousnesses of others is the only way I can think to fill the void.

I’m not, however, one of those people who likes analyzing what the “symbols” in dreams mean. My dreams are typically so bizarre that I have doubt that any such meaning is in there. Plus, the oddness is what I like most about the dreams, so why ruin it?

With this in mind I’m going to repost something from the Contains2 era. Though the dream in question happened years earlier, I had discussed it often enough that the details were still fresh in my mind on Saturday 22 of June 2002 when I posted this:

The OJ Simpson Bus-Boat Dream

Okay, I had this dream once, years ago (I think it was in grade ten, so whichever year that was). I’ve had myself a lot of strange dreams (and it seems like 75% of them are set in malls, is there some sort of symbolism behind that?) but this dream is up there in it’s not being surreal, not just being wacky. I’ve told it to many people, and now I’m going to write it up here to prevent me from forgetting even more of it than I already have.

I don’t think it actually started at this point, but this is where my memories kick in:

I’m in my own house, and I’m a butler. I’m going through my various duties and I happen to look out my window. Just as it does in the real world the window has a view of the Atlantic Ocean. Out there, driving on the ocean at the horizon is a bus, which I immediately recognize as the OJ Simpson Bus-Boat. Not finding this at all strange, I go back to work.

But when I look out the window again, I see that the Bus-Boat has changed course. It’s heading directly for my house! I dive away from the window, and I hear the Bus-Boat crashing onto the area in front of my house.

Things get blurry right here again, but I think I talked to my parents for a few minutes about the Bus-Boat having crashed in front of our house. When my memory comes clear again…

A panoramic, birds-eye-view of the Bus-Boat (now that it is on land it’s a boat. A military ship actually, maybe even a carrier) as it is cordoned off by military personnel and helicopters circle it (military or media? I couldn’t tell you). It’s about the size that such a boat would really be, and takes up the length of my street (Himmelman Drive, Boy!). In the real world, the road is curved, but the boat manages just fine.

Things get blurry again and then me and a guy who I knew from school at the time are disguising ourselves as water deliverymen to sneak into the Bus-Boat. I don’t know what happened inside, but when we came out I had found a secret device: An Electric Arm!

I don’t think my memory is blurry here, I think the dream just skipped scenes and suddenly I was wearing the Electric Arm and leading a team of commandos or mercenaries or something. We’re fighting this ogre and he’s got us cornered on a winding staircase that has a big brass pole at its center. The ogre repeatedly charges at us and I hold him off by hitting him with the Electric Arm. Each time I strike the ogre numbers fly out of him and he moves back. Eventually we’re at the top of the stairs and the ogre is at the bottom resting against the brass pole. Brilliantly, I use my Electric Arm on the pole, sending a shock down and forcing the ogre to run away.

I think the dream went on, but that is all I can still remember. For a dream I had like six years ago, I think that’s pretty good. (Wow! I don’t even think I did the math wrong, I think it really has been six years since grade ten.)
If there is any meaning behind that dream, I certainly don’t get it.

Little Choy!

Phone Guys.

I am doing an awesome and hilarious prank for April Fool’s Day this year, everyone.

Haha! Gotcha! I’m not actually not doing anything (other than this post I guess), because I genuinely don’t actually care about April Fool’s Day.

Hooray!