How many days have I got left?

Wasting my life away, one day at a time...

Friday, April 15, 2005

Casserole haunts me in my dreams.

Ooh, I don't really have anything to blog about today. So I'll start by mentioning a dream I had yesterday. Usually, my dreams are all foggy in what they might represent, but this one was crystal clear-I am afraid of failing textiles. It went something like this:

An unkown girl from my school is visiting my house, and I have my wall hanging (which I've made as part of the course) with me. So she says we need to fix it up a little and improve it, and ends up sewing some weird white jersey thing on to it. Then I get really stressed out and say that it looks awful and she's ruining it, so she decides to try and "burn the stitches off" on the gas cooker. Then the wall hanging gets wrecked, and she tries to hide the evidence by putting it in a casserole. So I find out, and I cry, because I worked so hard on it and the stupid bitch got it burnt and covered in casserole.

I woke up in a cold sweat thinking that for a minute, what had happened was real. I just have a thing for casserole, so I think that's why that was included...but textiley dreams? That's never happened before. Infact, I would classify this one as a nightmare.

Last night I also watched this documentary film called Spellbound, about spelling Bees in America. The whole thing is rather strange...and these kids, I mean, wow. One of them was 10, and could spell thousands of words that I've never even heard of. My favourite was this boy called Harry, who's face distorted into several funny expressions while he was trying to spell a word. It was filmed in 1999 though, so all the kids featured on there are actually older than me, and probably cringing in horror over the film, unless they're still into that. Not that there's anything wrong with it.

To anyone who's reading this: Enjoy your weekend. And be thankful I said that, because I don't often accomodate, let alone acknowledge my readers. On the other hand, that might be because there ARE no readers. Either way though, I can proof read this myself, and simile at the fact that someone is recognising I exist, even if it is myself.

(Dammit! I read into things too much. I should have just cut out everything after the first sentence...ah well. Curse you, brain.)


Post a Comment

<< Home