Last Entry
My first week of work is over, and things are exactly the same. No calls from Bianca, Nights in front of the TV, late night grocery-shopping with my roommate, and of course sleep. Mind-shattering journal material I know.
There are two things I want to put down for the record tonight, and here they are.
One: My Dream. I had what has to be the coolest dream of my life last night. Usually, my dreams consist of something like this: I'm riding in a car and my third grade teacher is driving. We're driving through downtown and we seem to be going toward a drive-in theater or a dentists' office, and I'm just riding along, completely comfortable with the whole scenario. Last night though, I had an honest-to-god movie-caliber dream that actually made sense, sort of. Basically, I was in the army and we were at a base and there were legions of undead that had just woken up and started stumbling toward us. The base was out in the middle of nowhere and there were large fields in all directions, so we were all just lined up and our sergeant or whatever was walking up the line, telling us to aim for the head and to keep shooting until they fell and to stagger our rounds so we were constantly firing. Then he left and the zombies started showing up in the far edges of the fields and we started taking them out with extreme prejudice. Things quickly switched then, but it was definitely the same dream. Suddenly I was in my barracks and Donna, this girl I sort of knew in high school and we sort of became friends and there was a time when there was a bit of sexual tension there but then I went to college and she went to college and we never saw each other enough to be any closer than friends, and after a while the tension sort of ended and we were just friends. Well anyway, she's there and all of a sudden we're making out and my dream-camera's totally pulling down for an upskirt shot of her and we're getting it on. Surprisingly enough, the dream actually lasted a bit and went into a few choice scenes which would fall into the 'juicy diary details' category if I actually wrote them down (no I have no intention of filling this journal with the stuff of my very-few-and-far-between erotic dreams), and then I woke up. I actually woke up excited. Hmm, I suppose I should rephrase that. I woke up energized, because the thrill of killing undead then getting it on in the same dream was so thrilling that I couldn't believe I actually had it. I told Mike, my co-worker today and he was unimpressed. Screw him though… I'm writing the account down here because I may never have a dream better than that and I want to be able to go back, years from now, and read about it.
Two: I guess you could call me a horror film type of guy, I like a good scary movie. I have to say that they don't really scare me though. A really good one will give me that tense feeling of being aware that it's kind of gripping me, but I very rarely get so worked up that I actually want to yell at the screen or cover my eyes or have nightmares about it. That said, there is one thing that I get scared every time I watch, and it's not The Exorcist or Texas Chainsaw Massacre. It's The Crocodile Hunter. Yep… Steve Irwen scares the living shit out of me. I watch that show, and he starts romping around and then his ears perk up and he yells "SNAKE!" and jumps out of the safety of his jeep and runs out into this field and grabs the tail of this fantastically huge snake that's trying to slither away. Now he's got it by the tail, and he's not even looking at it… instead he's talking to the camera, letting us all know that this is one of the top ten most venomous snakes in the world, and this particular snake has a toxin which decomposes the skin tissue and causes fingers to rot off within minutes, and meanwhile this snake is PISSED OFF and it's looking at Steve in his impossibly short, impossibly tight shorts and pink fleshy leg and you know it's just seconds away from flexing every muscle in its oddly-foreign body to squeeze out and try its hardest to end Steve's life. Then it DOES strike, coming less than an inch away from Steve's face, and he just says "whoo feisty." Every show puts me in fits of shaky-fisted anxiety, yelling at the screen "JUST LET GO! Tell us about the damn thing AFTER YOU LET IT GO" I've heard that on animalplanet.com there's a statement from the guy saying, "No, despite recent journalism, I'm not dead." I wonder if that's true. Maybe I'll look it up tomorrow.
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