Ramblings of a Wind Swept Mind

As mentioned in the user's manual, I can often be found singing off-key. It's partly because I can never shut my brain off (okay, with enough Vodka I can but that also leads to trips to Spanish hospitals) and a small corner of my brain seems to be a jukebox that is constantly playing. I have actually woken up mid-song and just kept going. Which brings me to my point (yes I have one, kind of...) of my sleep brain. I don't remember my dreams too often but when I do they usually have certain fantastical elements mixing with the mundane to make them weird as hell. Most everyone does, I am assuming. And to prove my sister in law wrong (granted this is the same "democrat" that is now supporting McCain) who says that no one listens when people talk about their dreams (my brother did stick up for me on this saying, yeah, but Rosie's really are f'ed up) I am going to tell you mine. Maybe this way, I can stop thinking of them.

Dream #1: Two nights ago I dreamt I was with my parents at a football game. Evidently a Colts game as Peyton Manning was playing. Somehow, my parents and I were friends with Peyton's parents, and they drove a minivan. They were parked on the road and there was a semi coming so my dad decided to move the elder Mannings' van for them, it proceeded to get hit by said semi anyway. Then I was working the concession stand and the Colts must have lost because Peyton was pissed and at the concession stand to get food. The only food available were boxes of chicken, fries, and other miscellaneous food that didn't really go together. Right when I started flirting with Peyton, my alarm went off scaring the bejeezus out of me.

Dream #2, last night: My family again makes an appearance (can't get rid of them can I?). My brothers and I were all out on vacation or something with my parents. My two brothers took me out for the night, and got me absolutely blotto. I wake up the next morning feeling absolutely wonderful, having no memories of the night before, except for the tattoos I am sporting. And not good tattoos, horrible could have been better if done in prison tattoos. I think there were three of them. Anyhoo, my brothers tell me that I not only got drunk and got tattoos I somehow managed to pawn most of my furniture (even though I wasn't anywhere near memphis where said furniture is located) to further continue my night of debauchery. They didn't do anything to stop it. My parents, upon hearing about it, were not upset at all. Just amused that I had no hangover but no memory of it all. I woke up having that feeling of being incredibly grateful that it was just a dream and pretty pissed at my brothers. Come to think of it, I am pretty pissed at my brothers still.

Anyhoo, if you read this, thanks for reading it, even though it probably makes no sense. I was going to put another moment of zen but the stupid freaking program wouldn't work right. So create your own moment of zen and Enjoy.