Yeah.

Wow. What a thunderstorm this morning, eh folks? Rattled shit that I didn't even know I had to rattle in my apartment.

That being said, I almost got hit in the head by two robins this morning. No shit. They were tussling in the air and almost careened into my enormous beast of a noggin because they were too busy paying attention to each other. I actually had to duck otherwise I might not be here this morning.

My {{CHECK ENGINE}} light finally went off. I know YOU probably could give two shits, but it means I finally won! (Although it took sitting in 45 minutes worth of a traffic-mush of a delay to come out victorious, it was well worth it!)

This morning, I had a dream involving Adam and crepes and some sorta road trip and something involving a library and filling out a raffle-entry correctly. And somewhere in there, the hick-chick from this season's REAL WORLD was making a very nice omelet. And Lana was in my car with lots of papers and (I think) a chicken. And I almost forgot to pick Adam and Eleven back up from the library before heading home.

A slightly more coherent Monday-morning dream: I can't remember the linear plotline or anything exactly, just random excerpts from the dream, but here goes. It started with me and my father (but my dad was a combination of my dad and someone else like people sometimes are in dreams) and we were looking for an inexpensive hotel to crash at for some reason (I think we were taking a long car drive somewhere and had to stop and sleep). Anyways, we stop at this real seedy looking place and go inside. Inside it's this like open-roomed hotel... You walk up the stairs and you can see into each person's "room" which is basically just an open room with a bed in it. Some of the rooms aren't in use but the covers to the beds are ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTING--like all yellowy and stained. And so I look at my dad and say NO WAY IN HELL AM I STAYING HERE. It's almost more of a hospital/mental institution than a hotel because there's people despondent and curled up in beds that are just SOOO filthy and muttering stuff to themselves and stuff... I'm incredibly disturbed by all this.

Enter Mark Ruffalo:



Somehow (and this is where the linearity ends, mostly I think because I can't remember some of the dream) Mark Ruffalo is at this hotel, for some reason when I come back... He's sitting on a bed looking damn fine... This also gets kind of vague (unfortunately) other than the real warm and fuzzy and romantic feeling i'm left with when I wake up. Things I remember: not being quite so disturbed to stay there anymore. Being wrassled off the bed and onto the ground playfully by Mark Ruffalo (don't I wish). Curling up into bed with him despite the fact that I'm thoroughly grossed-out because his covers are nasty and filthy too. We are actually two actors in a movie doing some of these activities I think, but we have a warm fuzzy romantic fondness for each other even OUTSIDE of the movie we're filming. For some reason I remember finding a stone-cold foxy picture of him on the internet during the dream too. And I just remember he was real cute and sweet like his characters always seem to be in the movies...

Move over Danny Masterson.

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