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    QotD: Dreamy

    What did you dream about last night?  

    This QotD comes at a very opportune time.  Technically, last night I didn't dream of anything, or at least anything that I can remember since I had a little helper to get to sleep and stay there.  And why?  Because for 3 of the 5 nights before that, my head has been running rampant.

    Dream 1:

    I was standing in a room that was quite empty.  The only people in the room were me and my Uncle Ernie.  Unfortunately, Uncle Ernie, my by far favorite relative, passed away about ten or so years ago.  Even though he lived in another state (it was only the next state over), we were always very tight.  Probably a Sagittarius thing – his birthday was the day after mine.  I digress.  The dream was brief.  It consisted of Unk insisting on me taking a piece of paper from him and reading it.  It couldn't have gone on long, but it seemed like it went on forever.  I never did get the piece of paper as I woke up before I could get to it. 🙁

    Dream 2:

    I walked into my grandparent's house through the back door as I always did. (Gram and Pop have been dead for about 10 years as well.)  I could tell what time frame it was supposed to be because Pop started to tell me that Gram was going to have to go to a home.  My waking mind knew that this was the case, but my dreaming mind was absolutely stunned by the news.  Making it more shocking was Gram coming from the next room.  We hugged for a long time and cried and she kept insisting that I remember her birthday.  She kept saying it over and over.  Then I woke up.

    Sidebar:  It used to be a little joke between Gram, Pop and myself regarding our birthdays.  Gram used to say that I missed the month, but I got the day right and Pop would say I missed the day but got the month right.  Man, I miss them.

    Dream 3:

    I'm sure this came from watching too much 24 and an extreme childhood fear of WWIII.  Anyways, a nuclear bomb had gone off.  I can't quite catch who all is in the house, but I know that it's family.  We weren't directly in the bomb area and I suppose we were far enough away that we didn't need to evacuate.  The whole dream revolved around sitting in the house and wondering what was going to happen.  Nothing did but the alarm clock.

    Would anyone care to psychoanalyze me? 🙂

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    Death to Iggy(s)!

    I have a friend, we'll call her H.  H is very low-maintenance.  Always there when I need her.  Haven't had a problem with her since we met in September of 2005.  Some may say that I'm not the best friend to H.  I've left her alone in the rain and at times, I've driven her harder than she prefers, but overall, things aren't so bad between us. (In case you hadn't figured it, H is my car.)

    H has, what I at first believed to be, quite a cushy parking spot.  She's out of the direct sunlight most of the time, shaded by either our house, or the great mango tree in the front.  She used to be happy there and I used to be happy she was there.  Now, things have changed.

    Iggy (and his wife/life partner) have moved in.  There was no warning, no moving van, no "Hi, we're the new neighbors".  The only way that I know that the Iggys are around is that they've taken to leaving presents for, or I should say on, H. 

    The Iggys have made a residence in the mango tree.  For the most part, they're quiet neighbors and you wouldn't even know they're there except for one glaring huge middle iguana finger thrust at me on a daily basis….

    THEY SHIT ON MY CAR!

    I will soon wash the paint off of H because of the daily washing that she needs because the Iggys are disgusting pigs.  If you weren't aware, iguanas poop in much the same way as birds.  LARGE birds!  Every morning I go out to my car, half asleep, to find the present of the day.  Today, it looked as though the Iggys put in a joint effort.  There's a large section of my back window that I cannot see out of.  It's gross.  It's annoying.  It's offending.  Some folks want to call someone to take them away, but as I believe that the Iggy family are all either spies or CIA agents, or Jack Bauers in training, they are never seen. 

    Now, I am angry.  Do not look for me, do not call me, for I will not be around.  I am becoming one with the Iggy family.  I will hold vigil in my front yard with the necessary equipment to remove the crapmakers.  I will think like them, I will look like them, I will eat like them, and I will kill them.  Hopefully before I poop on someone else's car.

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