

Archive for September, 2009
Go!
September 17, 2009My dream from last night
September 13, 2009So I had a dream last night that I was a teenager that was about 15 years old (I’m an elderly 28 years old currently). Me and some other kids went to a party that was unchaperoned by adults. The group was a church group but at some point it the church cancelled the program and we kids would still meet up and party instead. The parties were really really tame. 15 year old Winona Ryder was there (no doubt from me watching “Lucas” the other day).

Me and Ms. Winona were friends of sorts. There was a line for the bathroom, I was standing around waiting for it conversing with the other christian cool kids, when Winona comes in behind me in line. She’s not looking too hot. “Are you ok?” I ask.
“I’m feeling really sick,” with that she hunched over on the floor, “I can’t throw up, I can’t throw up, I can’t throw up.”
“You should just let yourself throw up, you’ll feel better,” and I gave her a paper bag (that was conveniently right next to me).
She then puked mostly in it. What hit the carpet, I entered the kitchen to clean. There was some slow guy walking in front of me. I hate that. I grabbed a rag and some cleaning material and started cleaning (it came out easy, it wasn’t much). The sink in the kitchen of the house we were in was flooded and when I tried to get the rag wet water sprayed all over the floor, I tossed a towel on in a ringed it out in the almost over-flowing sink.
Then I said to Winona “I almost asked you a stupid question.”
“What’s that,” she asked, a bit better after having thrown up.
“I was going to ask you if you remembered when you were in Reality Bites and your character threw up, but of course you do,” I said. I then went to put away the rag. For the record, I don’t think she pukes in Reality Bites.
While Winona went and layed down in bed. For some reason I implicity knew that she was in bed without pants on. I was planning to go check on her, make sure she was feeling ok (and possibly make out with her and her pukey breath) when the doorbell rang, all the lights in the house suddenly went flipped off as kids were trying to make it look like a party wasn’t happening.
I hid in a far off back bedroom and peered out the window from behind an armoire. I stood there for a little while, I could scarcely overhear someone talking at the door. It sounded like we were caught. I considered where I could run off to, I was in my (boxer shorts for some reason) and was barefoot. There was snow outside. I wasn’t going to make it far. It was a rural house and I had no idea how to get anywhere else.
“Hey” some kid in the same room as me said.
I jumped, I didn’t know anyone else was hiding in the same room. He was a good hider.
“What should we do,” he asked.
“I’m turning myself in,” I said, “There’s nowhere to run to really.”
So I walked out of the room and there were Christian parents yelling at the kids and a giant row of belts and coat hangers for beating kids with. I anticipated this and went to the armoire, which was filled with all of my clothes. I wriffled through the armoire while looking for the thickest pair of jeans I could find. I found this weird flight suit with big weird ghetto lettering all over it. My parents came in the room and started laughing at my choice in clothes, I tried to put off the inevitable pretending like I didn’t know what was coming next (they were both carrying coat hangers). I was sitting on the bed leaning to one side. My mom whacked my right leg, which was on top of my left and broke my left leg under the knee.
Then I woke up and my leg hurt.




