mysecondcupofcoffee


Sweet Dreams are Made of This?

I don’t sleep well. To combat this annoyance, I take melatonin. I was warned that taking this delightful little sleeping aid might have some sort of impact on my dreams. I have been taking this cylinder of sleep for almost eight months and haven’t noticed much (if any) changes to my dreams. Apparently, this drug was waiting until it could hit my dreams and freakify them in one fell swoop.

This was the course of my dream last night…

I was in your not-so-average jail. Crime? Unknown. This was the lowest budget jail … ever! The bars were PVC pipe and the locks (if you could call them locks) were some sort of rigged rope & pulley system that didn’t make any sense to me until I was escaping, but I’m getting ahead of myself. I had been in jail for about six months and all my fellow convicts were friends of mine. I won’t name any names, but every single person in jail with me was a friend or foe from college. You can just guess if you were there or not.

So, I’m in jail and I’m getting really lonely and missing my life before jail, so I decide to escape. Somehow (and I truly don’t know how), I got outside my cell and thought that it would be very wrong of me to leave all these other people in jail when I got out so easily, so I released everyone from the jail. Apparently there were no guards at this jail, because this process took me quite some time and I wasn’t very quite either.  

All free, we get outside the building and find ourselves at the base of a hill. The hill is part of my parent’s old property, but the house on the property on the top of the hill was my grandparent’s old house. Apparently this didn’t strike me as odd at all. All the jailbirds huddle together and decide that our odds of escape are better if we split up into groups of five. This was an odd thought since there was literally NO ONE around, but this was our battle plan nonetheless. We split into groups of five and my group, led by a ghost of my past, ran over to a line of trees separating one piece of property from the next. Apparently it also didn’t strike anyone as odd that the next piece of property looked identical to the one we had just left, as did the one beyond that and the one beyond that and the ones across the road… you get the picture.

We crouched amongst the trees in this little ravine area waiting, and I quote, “for the coast to clear.” I reiterate, there was NO ONE else in sight. *sigh* Anyways, we are huddled in this ravine when I look to my right and see … have you ever seen that famous Internet picture of the happy tree snake? … well, that’s what I saw. I didn’t move and neither did it. Then my eyes moved around and I saw that there wasn’t just one happy tree snake, oh no, I was crouched in a nest of them. Hundreds of happy tree snakes were just smiling up at me, bold as brass and calm as can be! I, however, was not as calm. I jumped up and took off running. My four fellow group members took off after me. Well, wouldn’t you know it, but the minute we left the shelter of the tree line, the once empty expanse of property was suddenly filled with people milling about and it started snowing Skittles. No joke. Oh, and Skittles hurt when they hit you on top of the head and are falling at a high velocity. Anyways, my grandpa (who has been dead for seven and a half years) stood up on the roof of the house (that he and his good buddy, Ralph, were shingling… apparently) and glanced around, but in the midst of all the people, he couldn’t see me and my fellow escapees. He then set down the ax that he was obviously using to shingle the house, picked up a bow and arrow and shot an arrow way over our heads. Does anyone else get a David and Jonathon vibe? I guess analyzing this dream isn’t the point so on we go…

We are running toward the house (a stupid decision now that I’m awake but the only clear course of action when in dreamland) when one of the crowd of people milling about suddenly steps in front of me. I don’t have time to react or stop so, I brace for impact … and run right through her. She’s a ghost. They are all ghosts! Apparently this doesn’t really both me or my fellow convicts, because we keep running. We finally reach the sanctuary of the garage and find an old Model-T. The idea to jump in an drive away doesn’t seem to cross our minds, so we rush over to the refrigerator and grab all the food out of it and divvy it up amongst us. The fridge, I should mention, wasn’t full of normal food. Oh no. It was full of frog legs and chicken livers and armadillo bile. … awesome, right?

After the “food” was divided, we decided to split up. But the minute the first person left the cover of the garage, she was shot dead by a sniper hidden in the suddenly-appearing mountain range. Deciding that our odds are better if we all take off running at once, the four of us all pick a direction and on the count of three, we take off. I dash out of the garage and veer left toward another cropping of trees that line the property. I make the trees amidst gunshots and dive into the safety of a ravine. This time I find myself in the midst of a group of fauns (think, Mr. Tumnus) and a porcupine all having tea together. Apparently I felt quite safe here, because I stayed for tea and discussed “The Rise And Fall Of The Roman Empire” which dream me had just finished and I thought “was quite good, apart from all the killing.”

Then, my husband comes driving up on the opposite side of the trees in the Model-T and tells me to jump in. I do and off we drive as if we are going on a Sunday afternoon cruise about the countryside and not being shot at by snipers. The shooting stops and the people/ghosts (who are still milling about) vanish.

It was at this point that dream me realized that I’m an outlaw and there is no way I’ll be able to get on a plane and fly to Texas because national security will have most assuredly flagged my name and the minute I step into the airport, they are going to arrest me again. A ninja then jumps on top of the hood of the Model-T, hands me a Multipass, says, “ninja vanish” and disappears in a puff of smoke. Then I woke up.

The end.


The Midnight Ride of… Twihards

Twihards are entertaining people. I mean that with as much
respect and love as I can muster, honestly!

For those of you not up-to-date on the lingo, a “Twihard” (a combination of the words Twilight and Die-Hard) is an “obsessive fan of the Twilight Saga series of books by Stephenie Meyer and the film adaptations. Twihards embrace all things Twilight with religious zeal, …” (definition thanks to Urban Dictionary).

Why are they entertaining? Because they bring the fun of a midnight movie release back (it’s like bringing sexy back, but with more shrieking).

My friend and I have attended all of the Twilight movie releases on opening weekend, if not opening night. It’s become our little tradition. To clarify, we don’t care for the movies. We attend the movies to see how bad they can possibly get. It’s a noble goal, to be sure, and we have not yet failed in our mission of laughter and mockery.

The most recent movie release, however, trumped them all. It was the best movie of the series, in my oh-so-humble opinion, but the Twihards might have been my favorite part.

Sitting in front of a row of moms (not Twihards, but the parents of Twihards) who had brought their daughters (I hope it was their daughters, though I guess it could have been their sons…) children to see the 10:00 p.m. premier was an epic decision. Hearing phrases like “what the hell is this crap!” and “no one acts like that” being uttered from a group of moms during a movie that they elected to bring their children to was a highlight in my movie-going career.

Then there were the young women people in the audience that gave Jacob a standing ovation when he stripped. That was a new one for me. I have heard cheering in theaters, but a standing ovation during the film, that was a bit extreme (and I’m sure it was annoying to those sitting behind the ovationers).

But my personal favorite was the girl two seats away from me. When … SPOILER ALERT … Carlisle’s head is ripped off, she, quite literally, shrieked. The gentleman (I shall assume he was a boyfriend) that was with her, “shushed” her, but to no avail. The damage had been done and my laughter was eternal. Yes, it was a traumatic part, but a bloodcurdling cry was a bit extreme. I mean, you know that part doesn’t happen in the book*, therefore it (probably) won’t actually remain that way in the movie and some sort of cinematic hocus-pocus (typically called a plot) and skullduggery (sometimes referred to as CG) will correct the anomaly.

*Did I just admit to reading the books? Indeed I did. I feel no shame in that for I am of the opinion that you shouldn’t judge/mock a book without reading it. As I have read the books, I can judge/mock accordingly.

Oh, in case you were curious: I’m Team Edward when reading the books and Team Jacob when watching the movies.