Dreams are wierd. Sometimes I feel like I live another life in my dreams. They are so vivid and real. When they are bad, it is absolutely terrifying. I remember them too. Remember them really well, so well that sometimes I am not sure if I am remembering something that happened in a dream or it i am remembering somethign that really happened. I can remember dreams from a long time ago. I can remember two dreams from when I was about 8 years old and lived in a yellow, 1970's , manufactured home on the property that my mom still owns. The first, which actually is one of the most frightening dreams I have ever had, happened 9oddly enough) when we were on a camping trip. Sum up: I am older, and in love with a young Indian man. I am trying to shoot a bow and arrow, the arrow misses the target and flies around the world collecting various types of sports balls, basketball, bowling ball, soccer ball - only the round ones though - and collected also my loves head, which it severed as we were meeting at the top of a fence to share a kiss. The arrow kep tflying, and eventually landed on the counter in the bathroom of that old manufactured home. The bathroom right across from my bedroom. The bathroom that was lit only by a bare bulb in the ceiling and a had broken shower, hidden behind a curtain that only moved when my siblings and I werent looking. ok so it doesnt sound so terribly frightening now, but it was a disturbing dream for an 8 year old. I refused to go in that bathroom for 3 days, when my mom and stepdad got tired of me constantly walking through their bedroom to use theirs, locked me out, and told me to go use the other one. I finally had to go so bad that I did it. The other dream wasnt as frightening, it just made me hide under my blankets. The old manufacutred home was a haunted house on top of a hill and there were skeletons guarding my bed, making sure that I didnt leave. I woke up terrified and hid unde the blankets until I finally got up the courage to check so that I could go back to sleep. I peeked out, and to my relief, saw no skeletons guarding my bed. However, I still hid under the blanket to fall back to sleep, just in case.

So, night before last I dreamed of being in a high rise apt with timothy, which was in the building where he worked, which was owned by the company he worked for. the apt was on the 11th floor. something happened, im not really sure exactly what, though i do remember a mad flight up to the 11th floor, and somehow packing all of our belongings in 2 hours, and taking it all with us. thats pretty much all i remember from that one.

Its wierd, when I think about the dreams that I have had and try to remember them, I get flashes of various dreams that ive had in the last 10 years. I could fill a book. This keyuboard is dribing my fruit loops.

ive got quite a few things to write about, which I have not had time to. ill get to it eventually. hopefully.

Last nights dream was quite odd. I do not remember all of it, but what I do remember is this: I am arriving at the Lloyd Center mall, in an old pickup truck. I go in and am immediately lost as this mall is immense and maze-like, including sections cordoned off by plastic sheets draping and folding like a theater curtain so that you must search for the opening in the folds. Suddenly I am walking down a wide corrider, much like a barn, and emerge in the ice rink, which is an ice rink no more. It has been filled with dirt and is a gigantic riding arena. Horses are veering left and right in circles and figure eights, and a chestnut arab canters past me. I think "oooh nice arab!" I keep watching the show, which is actually just the warm up arena for the show, which will come later. Warmbloods of all breeds are doing the advanced movements of dressage - here an Oldenburg, there a Lippizaner. I see enter the arena on foot, the young woman whom had been riding the chestnut arab. I recognize her by her orange-red hair and her XXL cotton puffy white and neon orange football team fan coat. I walk up to her to compliment her on her horse, and she denied, in a rather rude way, being the rider of the horse. I shrug, guess I was wrong. In the distance I see the chestnut arab cantering. I try to find an exit to the arena, to enter the main mall area(s) to find the dance store where I could purchase some leg warmers. An overweight teenage girl offers to help me - she knows this place like the back of her hand. Suddenly we are darting in and out of plastic sheet-theatre curtains, up down elevators and down up elevators, in search of the dance store. After wandering a while, running into various people pointing us in all diferent directions, Igrew frustrated and asked her to take me back to the exit I came in. Hard enough as it is in a normal mall, the overweight teenager showed just how well she knew the place (like the back of her hand!) and had me walking back up the down elevator and down the up elevator, into the arena, from which I could walk through the corridor and exit the mall, to climb into my old red truck, which i did. Then I woke up.

So today, I called the vital statistics office to get a copy of my "official" birth certificate (and finally found out for sure that my middle name is in fact spelled with an apostrophe at the end). Guess where they are located? 2 blocks south of the Nordstrom entrance to the Lloyd Center mall. yeah. So after I picked up a copy of my birth certificate and was walking back to the max, decided to detour to the mall. why not? I walked to the opposite end of the mall when I decided to ask someone if the dance store was still there. Some lucky lady at "Casual corner" fielded my question and swiftly pointed me in the right direction - right back where I came from, on the second floor (which is where i now was after entering on the 1st). I hate malls. So I walked all the way back to the other end of the mall, and lo and behold, there is is, in glittering silver and pink: THE DANCE STORE. I went in and bought some knee high leg warmers, in black.