







You should see my little sis. She really knows how to rock. She knows how to twist.












First off. For those who didn’t happen to go to dinner with us at… the SantaCafe, in What I’m saying is, Sephiroth had walked into the room.
Seriously.
Jennie and I are having a weigh off while she’s in
I really enjoy listening to NPR while working around the house. It’s so perfect, and I’m really enjoying it. I looove Wait, Wait, Don’t Tell Me. I listened to Fresh Air some, but found the topics of some shows…drab. Or the people who were talking about them made them drab. So I default to the amusing and lighthearted Wait, Wait, Don’t Tell Me. Give me recommendations for other NPR shows to watch. ‘Cause I really don’t know anything about them.
I love, when playing Minesweeper, uncovering a square that’s a seven. I say, “Ooh, seven.”
Okay, and now for the bulk of this entry. End here, all you who hate my dream babbling, ‘cause I’m not going to abbreviate this. (While, there will be some slight cropping of the story. For my privacy. ‘Cause I’m not just going to reveal absolutely everything about my dreams. Anyways.)
I’m happy that I posted that M.C. Escher quote earlier, because how true it turned out to be last night. This dream really isn’t going to make any sense, or be dramatic at all like it was in my sleep, but oh well, I will still try.
I was in Antigonish (my university’s town), and it was the night before classes were going to start. I took all my stuff to my dorm room, but after getting it in there, remembered that I had turned down on campus housing, and had no apartment, and this room must have been given to someone else by now. However, I thought, I’ll just leave my stuff here until I can find an apartment to move it all into. So, while wandering around Antigonish, looking for a place, I run into my friends Kenny and Olivia with some of their friends, and they all agree to help me find a place. Kenny and the rest get distracted by something and move on (I’m fairly certain they were drunk), but Olivia, who was wearing this cute little coat, and had a notepad and pen, continued to help me. I found three promising houses with empty rooms on
So we knock on the door. This fortyish woman opens the door, but she ages to seventy-five as she steps onto the porch. I thought that was weird, but asked about the room. As she was talking, this old man steps outside onto the porch to see what was going on, and sat quietly listening. Olivia has been taking notes about the information the old lady has been giving this entire time. A couple of minutes later, this thirty-five year old well-dressed man in a suit (1950s-style) steps outside, with neatly combed hair, wearing thick-rimmed, black glasses. The neatly dressed man, the old lady tells us, is a serial killer, and is her nephew, but he’s a dear boy. I start getting freaked out, and Olivia is giving me weird looks. I look on the house, and there are three papers, each with one of these people’s photos on it, warning that they are very dangerous. I get more freaked out, the neatly dressed man sees this, and goes inside. The old lady says he’s probably just going to get his knife, and he’ll be back outside in a moment. So I run away from the house screaming, and Olivia slowly follows, still with a concerned look on her face.
When we are far enough away from the house, I stop running, turn to Olivia, and ask if she could believe how insane and freaky those people were. She tells me that I’m the one she’s concerned about being insane. Apparently I had walked up to that house, someone came out and was talking to me about it, and I had been hallucinating this old woman, old man, and their nephew. And she was going to have me committed to an institution, because I was insane, and she’d been taking notes to document the entire thing.
As you can imagine, I was sad to find out in my dream that I was, in fact, insane. Since when does your mind lie to you like that in your dream???? Come on.
Honestly, who doesn't want their own Quidditch gear and Firebolt? I'd feel so badass. Badass-->
I saw The Last Mimzy. I blame that on Wayne, and really it was such a traumatizing experience that I'm not even going to talk about it. Except to warn you away. Even your kids.
I really want to get my hair cut. I had a dream last night that I was Harry Potter, attending StFX with Ron. We were fooling around, and I burned the Dark Mark tattoo on Ron's arm as a joke with my wand, accidentally summoning all the deatheaters. Dumbledore was so pissed.
ed it. I felt angsty the whole time, and in the end just deflated. I liked the stitching together of the past and present, and the idea of being different women at different times. 'Cause sometimes that really feels so true. And I liked the music. I don't know if I like Aaron Eckhart, though. I do know that I like SmartPop mini bags and pickles (dill, not bread and butter--yuck!).
It is an excellent addition to the Former Homes Series, which began with the watercolor fo the lake at the farm:
I enjoy putting makeup on when no one else is going to see me. If someone comes in, I'll wipe it off really quickly, and look guilty.
Ben and Jaime, you have rated 801 movies on your Netflix account. You have rated 801 movies on your Netflix. Eight hundred. And one. Have you seen 801 movies??? Seriously??? I don't think I've seen 801 movies, and I looove movies. Approximately 1,602 hours of movie watching. Hmm...that's only about an eighth of a year. How can that be possible? Maybe I have watched 801 movies. Oh dear, I think I undoubtedly have. Really? Oh well!
I've forgotten everything that I wanted to post about.

I've been cleaning out my room, and this may sound like a mild thing, but believe me, this is in fact MASSIVE. There were about 10 boxes full of stuff in my room. I think, because my room is in a general sort of messy condition, it can inadvertently become a dumping ground for the whole house. For instance. For the last, ohhh, fifteen years, a pair of Sam's sandals have been in my closet. They followed me from the farm, and ended up haunting my closet in Maine. But since I don't have a closet in operating condition, here, I finally chucked them. Back in Ohio, I had Jennie's white slippers that she wore at her wedding until we moved. All of the little kid gear (old cowboy boots, backpacks from daycare) and sentimental things that no one wants to get rid of, but no one wants in their room, either. I found the file for the farm's intercom system sitting on my floor, a flash for an oldschool camera, with a remote button thingie, and I only knew it was a remote button thingie when I carried it over to Dad and asked what on earth it was, Emma Hooper's Spanish Society certificate, three of Dad's shirts, two three-inch thick pieces of aluminum, three rolls of Christmas wrapping paper and two rolls of ribbon. A wooden crate full of Sam's empty CD cases. Anne's Erzulie makeup bag. A laundry basket filled with sheet music for organ, piano, and violin.
This list could go on for soooo long. So! For the first time ever, I went through everything, made an enormous mess, and sorted what would go and what would be kept. My room is beginning to resemble normalness, and getting rid of all the clutter that has been filling every corner and free space for the last...years....is really liberating. So, be warned, all ye who would enter my room. I have a hand now practiced at throwing things away.
Well, this has been enough boringness for one post.
uth. GTTM was very very good at looking pissy; so good, that even when she was supposed to have softened up she still looked pissy. Sorry, GTTM. I saw the 2005 version with Jimmy Fallon and Drew Barrymore first, but I'm impressed with how well the football (Arsenal) fandom interfering with life scenario was translated over to Red Sox fandom. They stayed quite close with the 2005 version. What they did change was the bleak, depressing, realism that Nick Hornby's books have. The Jimmy Fallon Drew Barrymore one was much more bubble gum-y, with a cheesy bubblegum ending, while I don't think that normally Nick Hornby would have stood for such a thing. He didn't write hte screenplay for the 2005 one, but did for the 1997 one, and Colin Firth did a nice job of being properly...I don't know what the word is. Out of touch, maybe? Anyways, I liked it. Maybe that's just 'cause it's Colin Firth, though.
I saw The Curse of the Golden Flower last night, and, wow. Overall: A
n insanely beautiful movie that's pointlessly tragic because none of the motivations are explained. I spent the entire time asking, "whyyy???" Coolest thing about the movie: The ninjas!
cause Radcliffe appears completely naked for a decently long while. He's...eighteen or something? Seventeen, about to be eighteen. And people are freaking otu about a 17 year-old being completely naked on stage. I think: Doesn't matter at all. He's cool with it, his parents are cool with it. Granted, there is a very naked, attractive girl pressed against him in one of these pictures. That probably sweetens the deal quite a bit. 








And that, my friends, is a very abbreviated version of Ohio in Pictures. More pictures from the trip will be popping up in later posts, I'm sure.
