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I seem to have two bloggerspherical writing prompts to do at the same time. The finish the sentence Friday was due yesterday, but due to family, a little insanity, a dash of depression, and the kids playing PBS games on the computer, I didn't finish it until today, but tomorrow is the Sunday Confessions one, so I'm putting both into one post somehow. I'm multitasking.

Finish the sentence Friday wants a VLOG, yes a vlog, on the best dream ever.
Sunday Confessions: What's in your closet?

I don't vlog. I've been wanting to vlog. I took a broadcasting class once, so I want to put those mad skillz to good use, though I got a D in the class and it was ole school editing with VCRs. But I did this awesome commercial of my sister wearing an old peasant's dress running through the back yard at night, stopping, sighing, and then voice over tape whispered, "Obsession. By Calvin Klein." It was awesome.

So this video kind of sucks. I mean you really could skip it if you want. Best intro ever.

Other dream posts on my blog can be found here...

MY OLD DREAM POSTS

But there is one best dream ever that's also a confession--a skeleton I hide in my closet. I've been dreaming about some guy from high school since 1996ish. Some of them are psychic, like I hadn't seen him from high school graduation until Facebook, and somewhere in between all that, I dreamt that he got engaged. I found out from Facebook years later, the timing of that dream was exactly in the right time period of his engagement. There were a couple others like that.

Our dreams are usually rated G. We found the lost city of Atlantis. We defeated the aliens twice. Yes. That's right. We evaded alien invasion twice. You're welcome. I also helped him escape from the Looney Bin and Prison. There have been several occasions where we are running, and because he's all in shape rock climbing hiking 20 plus miles and I'm me, he usually picks me up and carries me because I run too slow. We also usually argue about who drives. He always has to drive... I've had a lot of dreams about him, it would be difficult to tell you all of them, but one of my favorites...

We were somehow killed at our royal wedding, and our ghosts are roaming about together. We are in this old mansion and we are spying on the dude that killed us. So at some point, we switch rooms, but going through the wall wasn't like just going through the wall. It was actually entering this dark long endless tunnel. So dreamlover wants me to follow him down this hall, and he extends his hand all romantical, and scared shitless of spiders and rats and cob webs and whatever could lurk in the darkness, I grab his hand. After walking some, he asked why I wouldn't let go, and I was like "it's so dark in here this way I know you are still with me."

Well then it somehow was romantic, like we had this romantic conversation or something as we were walking and when we found the wall we wanted to come out of, we flew out the wall like falling on each other. Then we kinda start making out but he's like, "I have a problem." and I'm like I know bad timing but dammit this IS our honeymoon is it not? Apparently, there are certain appendages you don't get to take with you at your death...

So we are trying to get our way back to our bodies. We approach this gymnasium, maybe high school maybe not, but anyway, I start roller skating. He's talking about how we are miles and miles away from where we need to be like we could be walking all night. Then I realize, wait, I just made rollerskates appear out of no where on my feet. Like this must be an after death superpower. What else can I make? And boom, I make a really cool rocket ship. I was like dude, you are driving. So we jump in the rocket ship and he flies us back to our wedding. Landing was a lot like falling and really fun actually.

The wedding is empty. Nobody is there. In the middle of a garden, we see our bodies in this white convertible in the back seat, he in a tux and me in my really poofy ugly wedding dress, like I really expected the dream state of myself to have picked something more sophisticated and functioning than a poofy girly always in the way wedding dress. So then the driver, Bruno, walks in the area and was on the cell phone with the guy who killed us. I guess he poisoned our champagne. According to Bruno, we weren't quite dead yet. Bruno was still told to bury us anyway. So Bruno walks off to get the garbage bags and shovel and stuff, and we are flipping out trying to decide how to save ourselves.

I'm thinking maybe if we haunt Bruno, he'll get scared and run off to give us more time. Then I was thinking maybe if we haunted a friend and somehow got the message to them to come get us and take us to the ER, but then I was thinking that could take days and we don't have that kind of time. So then, I got this brilliant idea. I made the rocket ship and us really small, like microscopic small, and we went into my blood stream and forced the poison out. [Obviously, I watch the Magic School Bus]. So then I'm alive, and somehow all I had to do was suck the poison out of dreamlover as if a snake had bit him and he was back. So we drive off in the convertible just as Bruno was returning. Dreamlover was driving and I think he aimed for Bruno on our way out.

We realize the car probably has GPS in it, so we have to dump it somewhere, but the dude that tried to kill us, mind you he was a tall slender man with dark hair and one of those mustaches you can't trust, well he was like the prime minister or something, like he had all this power like CIA and shit would be looking for us. We didn't want to stash it where there would be innocent people who could get hurt, especially children. We find an abandoned insurance agency (I believe it was an Allstate building) and park the car there. It was like 10 blocks away from down town where there would be all these area businesses thriving, but around it was only an old church a block away, and being in my wedding gown and these stupid 4 inch spiked heels, I couldn't run far in those. So we grab our luggage out the trunk and headed over to the church.

There was an old lady there keeping up with the church, and I go and change into normal clothes. By the time I'm done, like minutes, there is a group of vehicles approaching ours and we can see out the window that the dude that killed us was with them. So we are totally freaking out thinking we have a matter of minutes before they find us at the church. The old woman explained to us that this church was one of the places that housed slaves trying to escape back in the civil war days and there were still hidden tunnels in the basement for which we could escape. So as we are heading out that way, I had a brilliant idea. I told dreamlover to go without me because there was something I had to do.

I grab the church's computer and get on my facebook and tell everyone the details of who killed us, who helped, how he did it, and that he was still trying to get us someone please inform the King and Queen on our behalf. Then I click post, and run off to try to catch up to dreamlover who was waiting on me even though I told him to go without me. So we enter another dark and mysterious tunnel where again he extends his hand to guide me and as we were running through it and I'm imagining where we are going to pop out, as I'm thinking pretty scenery in the woods somewhere, I wake up.

My dreams are usually unusual like that. I once killed vampires in a lake of cheese. I fought WWII planes from a row boat after a bear got stuck in the freezer we kept in the middle of the woods. I have a thriller dream I need to post someday that would make a good movie...

Dreamlover is my deepest darkest secret. He's the skeleton in my closet. Literally. One of the things I keep in there is a little black box with his soul and his shrine. I'm kidding. I do keep a letter he wrote me in there away from the reach of children. Would you throw that away?

Also in my closet, I keep a bunch of old shoes, dirty laundry including the dry clean only bin I want to forget exists, clothes, old hand bags, the logs and rocks from the fire place (apparently those are choking hazards, don't ask), and an autograph football from Ken Anderson (don't worry, NOBODY has heard of him). It's almost like a shrine of my past but with a more stalkery feel about it.

This isn't my most interesting blog post ever, but you know, some days the vampires suck out my creativity and I'm left with this.

If for whatever reason you attempted acid two too many times and you like my blog, you know, you can subscribe to it.

You can also find me under these rocks...