Saturday, November 7, 2009

Fruma Sarah Fruma Sarah!

I had the weirdest dream last night, or maybe it was this morning after my alarm went off and I realized I did not have to actually get up. That’s the time when I get the best dreams, I think because I’m so incredibly happy that I don’t have to be awake, or so upset that I do, that it messes with my subconscious and produces short yet vivid dreams.

“All right, this was my dream…in the beginning I dreamt…” That James and I ran away. I don’t know why or how, but we did. And this was not current, tattoo James, it was middle school James. I think I was still 22, but he was defiantly younger. Unimportant. Anyway, we ran away and ended up at Neil Gaiman’s house, in his basement on a couch. This may have come about because I have been feeling bad lately for not reading American Gods like I started to. It is awesome so far, but it’s not November, and thus I have no time for reading, only writing writing writing. So, we slept in the basement, then in the morning I could hear kids upstairs and I woke up by myself, so I guess James went upstairs to talk to everyone (whoever else was up there, Amamda Palmer and his daughter perhaps? I swear I’m not a creepy stalker, I just read his blog). James was being all cool about the situation, talking to everyone while I was too scared to go upstairs and talk to anyone. Eventually Mr. Gaiman came downstairs and talked to me, and I was literally falling over myself because I was so nervous. Whoever said you are braver in your dreams lied.


However, despite my crazy behavior, he was extremely nice. I can’t remember now what we talked about, but it ended weird. He saw how nervous I was, so he took me around the back of his house somehow, although I don’t remember walking or moving in any way, we were just there, and pointed to a bag through a door window. He told me to go inside and get a Xanax to make me feel better. Weird weird weird weird. Not wanting to look lame, although I have never had Xanax before and did not really want to start, I went into the room and started looking for it. I think at this point I realized it was a dream and that it did not matter what I took or did not take. However before I found it he knocked on the door saying something along the lines of ‘put it away my daughter is coming and I don’t want her to see.’ And that’s all I remember.


So those are the types of dreams I get. Not cool ones about space travel or being a Jedi (I did have one of those years ago, it was AWESOME); I get random dreams about famous people I LOVE where I don’t even get dream-confidence when meeting them and just end up looking like an idiot. Lovely. Most of the time I don’t even remember my dreams. I wish I could dream about my NaNoWriMo story so I could get a little inspiration up in here.

Speaking of my story, I’ve had a really poor start to my Nano November. The first day of November I was so excited to start my story. I had spend my entire Halloween morning with my notebook, not quite planning things out, but at least writing notes about important details of my new magical world. On the morning of November 1st I put on my new Script Frenzy shirt, sweat pants (the proper attire for writing), and my new ‘I believe in fairies’ locket that Nicole got me, for inspiration. She gets credit for the shirt too (thanks Nicole!). Best presents ever.


Anyway, I was really excited to start writing. I hoped in the car and drove to Leesburg because Beans in the Belfry was on a parade route in Brunswick. Distraught, because that’s really where I pictured myself getting stuff done, I instead headed for Greenbriers because I did not feel like parallel parking at Shoes. Coffee shops around here have weird names. SO I was happy, driving, and in a splendid mood.


Then I got in a car wreck.




I am not going into detail about it because all the insurance stuff is still happening. All I will say is that I am determined that I am 100% not at fault, but my lack of witnesses is working against me. The car still works, I can still drive it, but the passenger side door is all banged up and needs to be replaced. MY POOR CAR! Oh, and I’m fine by the way. No injuries on either side. Still, not happy about it all. It really killed my day, got me off writing to a bad start, and now my poor car door whistles when I drive around turns.


I’m sorry to Grandmother, who when she called me the other day and asked ‘so how are things going?’ I replied, ‘oh just great.’ I did not have it in me at the moment to tell her I wrecked the car that used to be hers, that she still stays was her favorite car ever. I’m sorry.


Now it’s the weekend. I finally got to 10k word count last night, I had to write about 4000 words to get there, but I did it. Nicole is still beating me by about 2000 words, jerk, but I will totally catch up somehow. I’m at my grandparent’s house right now, mom’s side, hanging out. The Star Wars concert is tomorrow night. Mom and I listened to all my favorite songs on the Star Wars soundtracks on my ipod on the drive down here to get in the mood. I am so pumped.


Ok, I’m going to go visit.


"You must have heard wrong Grandma
There's no tailor
You mean the butcher Grandma
By the name of Lazer-Wolfe"


~major7th

3 comments:

Tanner said...

Too bad about the wreck, those always suck, and you get stuck with a stigma if you're less than 25 or more than 65, even if it is clear to the police and insurance that you were not at fault. Hope everything goes your way.

Kelsey Austin Threatte said...

mariaaaaaaaaaaa!
I have been catching up on your blog top to bottom and just got to this. I AM SO SORRY! Luckily no one can do worse than I did so you still could lose some bumper and the side mirrors before anyone should take notice. But I am so sorry, that sucks a ridiculous amount. Other than that though, I love your life. I showed my new friend/ roomie currently sitting across from me your blog and told her about you and she wants to meet you. I'm in Oman discussing LOTR with kiwi. Brilliant.

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