The oddest part of the dream had to be killing these man-sized scorpions using their own stingers and pincers. Somehow killing one allowed me to attack one of the gems imbedded in the wolf spider. Unlike most dreams where I'm hunted, I triumphed where I would normally die as I woke up. I eventually reduced the spider to this ashen husk form of itself and escaped. Maybe it's symbolic of gaining power over old fears, or my eventual victory in the Entymological Conspiracy.

Waking up I looked outside. New Jersey's sky perpetually looks like it's 9:00am. It was as if the day itself told me: I don't really exist, I'm a figment, no no, don't get up, read and forget, just read and forget. So I read and forgot, picking up my place in 'Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy.' It's one of those books that you can stop reading for years, pick it back up, and keep on reading. You don't remember what was going on...and neither do the characters, so you're set.

Pinknoise and I have decided to go out for pizza. I've laid a few plans to go out to Philadelphia and New York in the next week. The thought of doing something, so wonderful and sinfully enticing while in academia...is now...eh, a thing to do. I lay on my ass and thank whatever power has brought forth this cornucopia of opportunity up to said ass.

I recently sprayed Odoreater onto my armpits. As I felt the death screams of the thousands of bacteria on my skin, inhaling sweet nothingness, I thought to myself that this is my vacation: a can of Odoreater. That's the sound of the American dream..fwsh fwsh, fwsh fwsh...sputter fwssshhhhhhhh.

The calico cat I mentioned a few entries back is laying in my lap, purring loudly (hm, that was poetically rythmic). She contents herself in watching my fingers, her torso and front paws drapped over my left arm. It's too adorable for words.

As soon as I can, I want pets of my own. I figure other animals are alot more emotionally stable than humans, so they don't mind being pet for hours. And hey, I don't mind being pet for hours, so if they evolve opposable thumbs we'd be golden.

(insert transition) I have a new idea to confuse your friends and loved ones: photocopy your tongue. You could cut it out and hang things from it, like earrings or something. Hell, send copies as gifts or not-at-all romantic reminders.

Last thing: if you haven't visited it already, Quoted is fabulous. Someone decided to surf Diaryland and pick out great quotes from the minds of our very own. If you have time, it's worth a look-see. You can also submit material to Quoted and it has a good chance of eventually being included.

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