Yet another cool dream

So, last night I had a kinda really cool dream. I was trying to find Major Kira Nerys from DS9, because a couple of the kids form the Brady Bunch were scared. They owed the mob a favor and to make sure the kids kept their promise, the mob stole their mom. Well, that's one way to do it. But first, I had to find the REAL Major Kira. Her bizzaro world counterpart was running around, trying to get into the armory, and I was like, "get ye gone, bitch" and locked her in a broom closet. The real Kira and I, under the watchful eye of Chief of Station Security Odo, all went to this little village where mob activity was supposedly happening. We ended up finding the mob boss's office. He had Phillip J Fry's mom with him, except she was people instead of a cartoon. She slipped us a note with where to find the missing moms, the pass codes and everything. The mob boss warned us not to try to find the moms, just give up, because they were all going to be dead soon anyway, then he locks us in the office, which was on the third floor of an old western style bank. Odo was like "bitch please", oozed under the window and undid the hinges on the outside so we could escape. He turned into a big inflatable rescue cushion like fire fighters use and Kira and I jumped out the window and snuck across a field until we came to the next town, where the moms where hidden. The mom bunker was hidden inside a Cuban sandwich shop, according to the note and the only way to signal to the mob person in the shop that you were part of the mob too was to request a specific song on the jukebox and dance a salsa. Kira did the dancing, and I did the head nod to the mobster to let him know that was on purpose. He let us in through a little door in the kitchen where we found the mom bunker. there were like 20-30 ladies in there and a doctor tyring to keep all the ladies calm and healthy... for now. Odo knocked out the doctor and turned into a lady so it wasn't obvious that there was a strange man there. Fry's mom was like "it's about time you got here, I'll send the signal to go". The go signal was rearranging books on a shelf so that the first letters of the titles read "moms weather all". The ladies organized and got on, like, a cargo lift that would take them to the roof. We got there and the mob boss had stadium bleachers set up around the edges of the roof and was like "pfft, like I didn't know you were going to do this" and had all his cronies in the bleachers open fire on the group. BUT Kira and I had set up a mobile emitter to project a hologram of everyone on the freight lift and all the mob dudes shot each other as the bullets whizzed right through the holograms. We had gotten everyone out through the sandwich shop instead.
I woke up then.

Have I mentioned how much I can’t stand Metallica? It’s the kind of music that is played by one of two people. Either the middle/high schools kids who think that liking Metallica makes them Cool Mature Metalheads who Aren’t Like Other Girls/Guys™, or that one old alcoholic that’s drunk at 2pm on a Monday, complaining about how kids these days don’t know what real music is any more while they do their best to punch in the number for Master of Puppets with unsteady fingers on the ancient jukebox that only has “Best of” albums and R.E.O Speedwagon.

Everything that starts has got to end
And I would hate to lose you as a friend
but of all the things that I could stand to lose
None of them
none of them are you

My policy on deletions

I won't.

If I wanted to write it badly enough that I put finger to key and typed more than a couple of words, I can stand by it with my name slapped on it. Sure it might be crap, sure it may contain an idea that someone may find offensive. I will not delete anything.

I may add disclaimers, I may add an intro or an edit. But I don't delete.

Literary Examination of My Immortal

Eh, never mind. I was really tired when I tried to write this and my ideas got really lost. 
I ain't deleting, though. I stand by my shitty ramblings.


First of all, if you have never heard of My Immortal I will suggest you take a moment and read as much as you can before we begin. You can read it here.

In summary, a girl who is very gothic goes to Hogwarts in the Harry Potter universe and makes friends with all the main characters, who all become gothic as well. There many "romantic" scenes that make little sense, like most things that go on in the story.

OK, but ignoring the fact that My Immortal makes my eyes bleed trying to read it, looking at it as a piece that is the product of unteathered enthusiasm, exploring the psychological development of a young girl and her on-again-off-again friend as the two navigate the confusion of being thirteen years old. Let me explain:

First of all, the world that these girls have created is quite the amalgamation of canon elements from Harry Potter and the fantasy life the author and her friend created for themselves. I see it as them seeking comfort in a familiar cultural reference, and indulging themselves in being a part of a story they know, while still attempting to create their own content, however awkward it is for the rest of us. It also brings to light how young teens are still trying to figure out where they fit, while still trying to be unique. Inserting their own characters in the established world of Harry Potter could be the pair's desire to be a part of something popular. Their characters' extreme styles are apparently their attempt to try out styles and attitudes they wish they could express in real life. The combination of the two creates a universe where their characters are not only a part of something very popular, but by have several characters from the books and movies adopting their style, they express a desire to, not only be popular, but to be included in a group that they idealize without worrying about judgement or stigma.

The author and her friend also deal with their burgeoning sexual desires as well. I'm not gonna get too into why a thirteen year old wants to get busy, but their story really does help them to sort things out that they might not be able to otherwise. In the story, the main character has physical relationships with (too) many characters from the Harry Potter world. The brief and extremely nondescript scenes drive home the fact that the author has no idea what sex is like, but she is very curious about it, as she writes several scenes. It's also interesting to seen how the scenes lack detail, almost as if the author is ashamed of writing it, like it's some sort of taboo to write about sexual encounters. It reminds me of in middle school when the words "penis", or "clitoris" were whispered, then giggled over. Tee hee, I wrote a sex. But it's more than that, I think. It's these little girls dealing with physical attraction for, perhaps, the first time. All they know is that if you find someone attractive that MUST mean you want to have sex with them. They haven't quite figured out that they can just say "wow, they're hot" and carry on, or understand that attraction doesn't necessarily have to be completely sexual.

Lastly, I admire the girls for continuing to post their stories even after "preps" picked their narratives apart and "flamd" their updates. The author and her friend just wanted to play make believe, working out emotional confusion along the way. Despite everything, they persisted, and somehow managed to produce 44 chapters. I could go on, but trying to defend My Immortal is giving me heart burn. I may post again later, if I think of any points I forgot to make. Tell me what you think about My Immortal (other than it sucks, preps stop flammin mah fookin storiez).

Another dream

GEEZ! this is turning into my dream journal. Well, it's fine, I guess. My dreams are hella interesting. This one was long and fairly detailed.

I remember I had gotten home from ???? and my friends were at my house. My house was huge, and I had the whole upper half of the house to myself. Well, my boyfriend, who was some cool cat that reminded me of Dodger from Oliver and Company, had bought me this really nice perfume. It was a bright pink bottle and the perfume smelled great, but the smell made me, like, lose my mind a little? I sniffed it and my mood shifted hard. Which sucked, because elsewhere in the house, a handful of detectives where looking for clues as to where my mom had gone. She had been missing for three days without a word

In the category "Stupid shit I've cried over":

My boyfriend made me a frozen burrito and put cheese on it because I felt like crap and my period had just started. It was so freaking stupid, then I was crying because it was stupid.