This was a weird dream. I dreamt that I was making a cake. Now, normally there isn't anything unusual about making a cake, and the beginning of the dream was pretty routine; flour, butter, eggs, vanilla, a little sour cream. But here's where the dream got weird. I took my big, yellow NIV Study Bible (The one I use to compare and contrast with the Catholic Bible when I get into funky theological arguments) and I plopped it into the mix. I stirred it all up with a wooden spoon and poured the batter into a magically pre-greased and floured square cakepan and slid the whole mess into the oven at 350 degrees fahreinheit (If the dream has been totally up on symbology, it would have been 451).

I then took the cake out, (it was a nice, golden pound cake) and started to eat. In the dream I could sort of taste the sweetness of the cake, but then the cake started to taste more like paper. I frowned and looked down and saw line of scripture in my piece. I picked at it, and pulled out a faded photograph of me and my friend Patrick taken in 1990. I started to eat again, and jazz music started to play (I think it was Thelonius Monk).

For some reason I decided to go open the windows after hearing the jazz music. When I got back to my plate of cake, instead of being a bible cake, inside of my piece was a part of my blue strongbox where I keep important (but not invaluable) papers. Not wanting to eat my passport or my Birth Certificate, I set the cake aside and went into the kitchen for a glass of milk. After that, I woke up.