I suppose this is an odd time to be writing a DREAM log, seeing as how most people would be going to bed right about now, but them's the breaks. MOST of this is actually what I remember; I've polished a few details, but dreams tend to lose a lot in translation.

First things first: this dream was really quite crappy. I mean, it's not even original!

So it starts off that we're kinda swordfighting - "we" being me, a few of my friends, a few of my brother's friends, and a few people I don't really know. Now, we're not doing that pussy "fencing" with "foils" and "points", we're going all out with the stabbing and the pain and the blood and the dual-weilding daggers and all that fancy shit. Glaiven. In a mall somewhere. A cleared out pet shop, actually.

Actually, there wasn't THAT much fighting going on. Somebody did get poked in the back pretty badly, and the blood on the sword looked like lumpy Jell-O. We left the pet store and went outside, into ANOTHER pet store. Ain't dreams great? We kinda got into a circle, and then for some reason immediately all agreed that we would go to my house.

So we go to my house, to the basement naturally. I don't really quite remember what happened here, but I think a few people died and kinda just got shoved into another room. I went upstairs to get eye protection, for some reason, and when I came back downstairs to the basement, I discovered that my brother is NOT actually 3,000 miles away in Oregon, but rather right here with some of his friends, playing Xbox. Fair enough.

I figure I'll go along and play. Now, I should probably point out that this is where the dream gets really crappy. A) Halo is probably copyrighted, trademarked, and I probably owe Microsoft a few hundred dollars for that dream. B) I've had Halo dreams before. (*ca-ching!*) They sucked ass. C) I appear to be the only Xbox owner in the northwest quadrant of the Milky Way who believes that Halo is NOT more popular than Jesus, better than sex and cooler than, say, a very large jar containing dem bones, professor_pi and liberal amounts of liquid nitrogen, in the fucking vacuum of outer space.

All right, so I'm playing this game in my dream, and the game itself looks like you're dreaming - fast, somewhat blurred, choppy action. Really. So of course I suddenly find myself not playing, but DOING. I'm in the game! It doesn't look like I'll be around to do it much longer, seeing as how there seem to be a flock of killer penguins pushing each other towards me, ON their bellies, AT high speeds.

Restart!

OK, so I try a few more times. There are some interesting glowing boxes that automagically give me the contents of the other boxes, which I would assume simply contain the contents of the other boxen, including the one I just opened. Wheee! Recursion!

Finally, we come to a walkway that looks surprisingly like one at my school, we come to what just may possibly have been the most anticlimatic, most cliched ending used in the history of mankind -- I woke up.

After that, I think you can pretty much tell what happened: I stumbled over to the computer, wrote up what I could remember, made up what I couldn't, and posted it. Wheee.

And people wonder why I don't like to sleep...

I've been having problems with my roommate, Kristen, lately. They aren't normal roommate problems; she just annoys me to the point where I want to anger her enough to move out and leave me to a room of my own, not otherwise allowed in this university.

   So, now that we can see the background, here's the dream: Kristen and I have a fight. I can't remember what the fight is about. I remember something about her, as a Catholic, being upset with me not only for dating a "non-Christian," (in her eyes, not mine) but also for engaging in some activities that she finds undesirable or "non-Christian" activities. I told her that she'd better leave me alone about it. She did not. I told her that if she didn't just drop the subject, she would not appreciate my response. She did not.

   So, in my dream, I smacked her across the face, and she did not even skip a beat. She kept talking, talked though it even. So I picked her up, in a cradling position. I carried her out the door, being stronger than I thought I was. She was easy to carry, easy to pick up, and I still had most of my strength and agility. So I threw her down the hallway. Most of the way down the hallway. There are always girls, especially one named Nancy, in my hallway. Kristen flew through the air, hit her head on the cement brick wall, bounced off and, remaining in the fetal position from which I threw her, fell to the floor. She was not hurt or unconscious, however. Just very upset. I immediately went around to the other hallway to talk to one of my R.A.'s. However, this is the R.A. that in real life wrote me up for violating the vandalism policy while I was out of town for not throwing away my garbage before I left. Not that garbage is vandalism if it's in your own room... Plus, in the dream, she looked busy, and I was in a hurry to talk to someone in charge. So I went to Marcy, the other R.A., and told her upfront, "I can't live with my roommate anymore. I just can't do it." And Marcy replies, "that's fine, she's already moved in with someone else."

   What's sad about this dream: I was inexplicably happy when I woke up. And then I opened my eyes, and like a vulture waiting for its prey to acknowledge it's presence, Kristen immediately begins talking. About nothing. Nothing, I tell you. Just blabbing because she can.

You know the phrase, "and then you woke up?" Irony. Yeah. And then I woke up.

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