Next semester I'll be living it up over in the graphics lab, actually, and I have a ton of fun there. Plus, I'll be being making twice what I make now. I'm so happy...

Anyway, I'm blogging today to inform the world of the incredible dream that I had last night. It was just so fun.

We were driving to pick up my little sister's friend to go see a play. When we got there (to the play), I realized that it was being directed by none other than Mary-Kate, Ashley, and Jennifer Aniston (who was, consequently, the same age as the twins at that point). Anyway, we sat down in our seats and the play started. It was Peter Pan, and my gorgeous friend Vanessa got the part of Wendy. She came onto the stage and then took to the air on wires in the most beautiful and graceful display I have ever witnessed. She was clothed in some kind of billowy, diaphanous cloth that followed every movement and flew behind her in trails that sat on the air. He toes were pointed and  her legs... She flipped, she spun, she glode. I was completely wowed, stunned by the beauty of the dance - and by her bravery - to do all that while twenty feet in the air. She seemed just fine, though, even serene, which made the whole thing even better.

Then my little sister's snotty friend, who had this uncanny knack for drawing people to her side, decided that she wanted to fly like that as well - and that she wanted to do it immediately. We tried to settle her down, but she insisted. She stood up and adressed the directors (in the middle of the play, no less). I must say that May-Kate, Ashley, and Jennifer handled themselves very professionally, but as the crowd backed her whining more I left the crowd and basically became the sentient camera for the play, which was now real. Wendy was so excited to be on her way to wherever the flight was taking her, much as Margarita was to reach the lake, and Satan. Wendy's brother, however, wasn't so sure he wanted to, and grabbed a branch as he started to be lifted away. His enraged father then grabbed his arm and broke his grip, sending him into the sky after Wendy.

They didn't go high into the air, but they went fast, and the most exhilarating chorus accompanied them. It was a choir singing the song of sheer joy and adreneline. It was loud, cacophanous, but so exciting and not the least bit muddled. I felt Wendy's joy as I followed her through the dark marshes, knowing that her brother was close behind. We dipped and dove and stretched ourselves into the wind. spinning our way between the craggy trees and dismal mist.

Eventually, we happened upon our way station, where I - for a moment - assumed we would stop. Only for a moment did we pause before strectching ourselves back into our journey. Excited, I raced on ahead, covering stretched of land so fast that I only saw them as sensations of shape. Then, the day came, and I slowed at our desitination, the marsh had turned to desert, and I rushed ahead of Wendy and her brother into the harsh yellow light. I settled down in a long, square box, set on end, with an open top. Inside the box was none other than Nicholas Cage.

For that moment, my viewpoint became his, or I felt that I was sitting atop his head. I watched as our captors lowered the lid and then bolted it. As it is with movies, I was aware that time had shifted, and it was suddenly several years later, and someone was opening the lid! As they opened the lid, I left, aware of pushing off a bare skull in my escape. I looked down as I left, and I saw that the box was now, aside from the skeleton, filled with dead leaves, twigs, and scarab and rhinoceros beetles. I left faster.

I felt queasy for that second, but much better when I was out, and I hovered around the box.One of the scarabs followed me out, and was then addressed by a voice belonging to I know not whom (I could not see them). The voice asked whether the beetle had eaten him, and the beetle replied (with the exact voice of Mr. Saladfingers) that it had, and was sorry.

"I did, but I'm very sorry..."

"Sorry that he's dead or sorry that you ate him?"

"Both, actually..."

And indeed, I could sense that, though this beetle was twisted, and thought nothing of eating Nicholas Cage, that it was, indeed sorry now that it was being questioned by the voice. Apologetic for its very nature, it seemed.

Anyway, the dream continued later, in an old house, but that part is foggier, whereas I can still hear that chorus, singing up a storm of excitement, and Mr. Saladfinger's voice apologizing for the beetle. It's all very clear. Thank you.