Are You Ready to Rumble?

In an ideal wolrd I type medium sized posts and I post them often. This is not, however, an ideal world, and I haven't been able to post lately for a variety of reasons, so this is going to be one huge mammoth post to get me through the winter. Right now I'm downloading fonts off the internet and listening to Placebo's "Every You, Every Me". Be warned, that's the sort of mood I'm in, complicity, elitism, and confusion are my main drives at the moment. I accidentaly watched an episode of the OC (it just fills me with morbid curiosity), and have been left craving a meddling life-long best friend.

I want to make a zombie movie, set in Mexico and riddled with all our little eccentricities. My favourite scene in this imaginary script so far has one of the main characters in a car full of zombies, and he can't get out, because being a good used Mexican vehicle, it's riddled with faults, making it a real knack to open a door. This might seem a bit far fetched to some of you 1st worlders out there but it's really common here. My own car is a perfect example, the door on the driver's side won't open, the passenger door only opens from the outside, and the passenger seat slides forward when I break.

Ah yes, my car. I'm not a big fan of cars, in fact I'd rather get around on public transport, but I have to admit they come in handy. I call it the Millenium Falcon (please don't sue me Mr. Lucas!) and on Tuesday I manged to warp speed it into a gate at university. It was rather bizarre, one moment I was driving along and the next thing I knew, I was hugging my steering wheel. I had to laugh my head off, along with all the university gardeners who just happened to be standing around. The Falcon looks like a werewolf bit a chunk out of it. I'm fine, just hurt my right hand a bit, and at least my sister started putting her seat belt on without me having to threaten to kick her out of a moving vehicle...

My father has discovered blogging. I nearly had a heart attack when I saw him looking up "blog" on wikipeda. I love my dad, but I'm terrible at telling him about myself and the way I see things, and I wouldn't want to have to explain every line of every post to him. But what are the chances of him stumbling across this anyways (famous last words)?

Talking about uncomfortable conversations, Daddy confronted me about Mr. Rockstar again. I ended up admitting I like him, and we got into a really uncomfortable conversation about my "needs". Ewwwww, is all I can say. Now I'm usually really open when talking about said needs, but with my Dad I draw the line. As usual it was an interrumpted conversation (by the weekly grocery shopping), so I don't know if he understands my position but he seemed to be willing to accept that I'm going to be dating. I think. Then again with him I never can tell. I wish we would talk more, really talk, not this cat and mouse game of him trying to get me to come out of my padded room and me bracing up against the door and shouting "SHE'S NOT IN!". It might have helped if he hadn't had such a "children must be seen and not heard" policy when I was younger, and if I could put up with having an argument or two. He says I take things to heart too much and maybe he's right.

I had a really great dream the other night. I was on holiday on a private island, complete with Puff Daddy hosing people down with choclate milkshake and asking them to enjoy the hospitality. Mom, William, and I were walking along the beach, which I was starting to notice was full of crabs. I just managed to pick William up out of the path of one of the little snapping sods, while my mum was poking them with her foot. She thought it was really funny until she poked a half buried orange shell, and out came a meter wide crab with a mean look in its eye. It advanced towards her snapping it's claws shut menacingly and she calmly told me to distract it. Mother DOESN'T know best, but I didn't want to be ungrateful so I poked it with my foot. Of course, it decided to have a poke back, I retreated slightly and began to levitate out of its reach.

At this point I was starting to suspect I was dreaming, so I shot up into the sky till I could see the Earth's curvature and floated there spinning and holding my son, telling him about the atmosphere and the stars. I felt real peace up there in the rim of the world. After a while we dropped back to Earth in free fall, with a few short rewinds to adjust our trajectory. When we reached the island I floated from tree to tree trying to find a good spot to observe the surroundings. I began thinking about how we could go anywhere we wanted, and in a thought we were in the ocean, observing a Great White shark from our own little air bubble. It swam around us a couple of times, watching us with his great big black eyes. A group of dolphins joined the scene, and I hitched a ride with on e by grabbing on to its dorsal fin. I love dreaming, I really can go anywhere and do anything. I can read, travel with a thought and it only makes it even more interesting that everyone's out to get me.

Speaking of dreams, Rachel had a pretty fancy one were I was an elegant Victorian dame, just released from prison, charming as hell, and with a dashing man by my side. I hope someone invents a dream recorder/player in my time. We could leave such a beautifully surreal legacy. That's probably one of the reasons I like Jeff Noon so much. If you haven't already, go get Vurt, and don't come back till you do!

We have a few crazy waking dreams. The most recent one is "The Society for the Revival of Roman Customs". Our patron goddesses are Venus and Eris (Love and Discord), and one of the first customs we want to bring back is the gladiator sports, although instead of slaves those aspiring to court us can duel to the death. It would save us a lot of time...

Another one of our dreams is to set in motion a Master Plan to dominate the world however, it's her job to come up with the plan...

Sigh, don't you just hate akward reunions? My friend Ivonne had a Halloween party last week, to which I showed up as a ghost, although everyone thought I was a bride. A guy I really used to fancy was also there, and on the one hand it was nice to see him 'cos he's quite charming, and it was reassuring to know he no longer makes monarch butterflies take flight in my guts, but on the other he also gave me the weirdest look when he saw I was with Mr. Rockstar, and he put "our" song on the jukebox. I'll never understand the logic in males' minds: they say they want to win you over, disappear for 3 months and then act funny when they realize you haven't been holding your breath waiting for them to come back.

The bank round the block from my house was held up today. That's the second time in as many months...