First, gotta take care of the important things. Multiple props go to:
Andy– Tremont Street Raiders– http://finger-chopper.blogspot.com/
Iris– Paper-Mache Mephisto– Private blog. Sorry :/
Angel– Cake Pops with Prometheus– http://mentalcakepops.blogspot.com/
and Heather– An Education– http://jesuisdino.blogspot.com/
for coercing me into making a blog by force. Sorry– force applied over an area. Specifically that of the peer variety. I hate to be an advertiser, but I had to shout out to them, and you should check out their blogs 'cause they're totally boss and everything.
Now on with business, to introduce the characters mentioned in this post. I may post about them again later, so memorize them. Not really, but you might have to keep referring to this post. [UPDATE: You can now reference people via this page! Check out the other pages in the sidebar, as well.]
Andy– Lives just across the 9f common from me. AKA Das FingaChoppa. He hosts 9th floor movie nights regularly and doesn't actually sleep, but can grow several facial hairs. He is sitting near me currently, sporting an Ambrose Burnside for a movie I recently made. He and I theorized the Clooneyan Principle: In a nutshell, George Clooney is always behind you. Smiling.
Iris– AKA the Miraculous Mandarin, so named by Andy after he watched a similarly titled pantomime. Iris stole my phone once but I managed to chase her down. However, under her alternate identity, the Paper-Mache Mephisto, she secretly gives a berth to George Clooney in her room. Somewhere...
Angel– She lives nextdoor to Iris. I helped her upload a photo of a chocolate that we agreed looked like a mini-bonsai. I'm told she has salesperson skills that make Billy Mays' ghost prostrate itself in reverence, though she has not tried to put me under her spell.
Heather– Heather hails from Colorado, so my New Mexican upbringing tells me one thing: she's really good at skiing and does it all the time. That notion is solidified by the fact that she drew mountains on my wall of art. Heather lives several floors away, but increasingly often graces the ninth floor common with her appearance.
Lauren V– (Other Laurens are soon to be introduced.)– AKA Powerpants. I wave to her often. She lives only a couple of doors down, and she waves back everytime. It's real cute, we're like total bros and stuff, united by our abundant waving. We were once united in our quest against College Writing, but we have since vanquished that foe.
Sarah– AKA Sherbert. Sherbz and I have a rivalry of epic proportions. Not actually epic. It's mostly a constant struggle for Sarah to avoid having her wristlet (I hate that word, so will henceforth not be using it.) confiscated by me. She's recently been becoming more astute and forcing me to use much trickier tactics. Also, the other day, Sarah and I bonded over the construction of a gingerbread house. It had a helipad, nuff said.
Jenny– One of the craziest characters I've yet met. I'm pretty sure her mind is generally jumping around in a bouncehouse. And it's one of the most lovable traits in humankind. Jenny lives with Lauren V, whose life must be brightened to no end by Jenny's 97%-of-the-time sunny attitude and bro-tier guitar playing.
Papa– He's the daddyo. As in who's ya daddy? Well maybe not quite, but almost. This man is an architect by trade, and over the past few years, a runner by hobby. He was 50% responsible not only for my existence, but also about 50% for my introduction to Electronic Music.
Mama– Quite predictably responsible for the other 50% of my existence. She's a Spanish language-turned-social studies teacher in the same district in which I was schooled, but never officially taught me. I'll be honest, she unofficially assisted in my Spanish and social studies learning, but has since taken up the study of Japanese language and frequently laments that my Spanish abilities have surpassed hers.
Eli– The broingest of the bros, Eli is also, quite appropriately, my brother. Though we used to have a rivalry of TRULY epic proportions, we have now joined forces to create an unstoppable brotherhood of chillness. Our ongoing project is to convert an attic into a man cave worthy of that brotherhood. So far, we have amassed a respectable array of game systems and bass-blasting fury, but minifridge capacities are yet unfulfilled.
Riker– More properly known as Commander William T Riker. This valiant leader is truly an inspiration to felinekind, as he shall soon be celebrating his 19 and 2/3 birthday. In other words, this cat has had my family waiting on him hand and foot since before I was even conceived.
Jake– Jake is one of my artbros. He always greets me with a "hi", sometimes multiple times. Jake's forte is in art that mixes recognizable pop culture symbols with the magically intricate designs from within his mind. It's always quite inspirational and mesmerizing to look at. Jake always wears a black beanie, and he manages to make it look fly 60% of the time, all the time.
Harrison– This gentleman is an animal in all the best ways. I do not believe there could have been someone more appropriate with whom to share a room. Sometimes he's my Belarusian brother and we lament on our lack of bread. Other times, we are 500-pound Westerners who sit around doing nothing but yelling at each other to go to the gym. Perhaps we are commenting on the hilarity and stupidity of the lack of political climate in the Republican debates. A roommate bromance if I ever saw one.
Laura– My fellow ginger of 9f. Unfortunately, I can't even hope to match the redness of this bright shock. Laura ranks around a 90 or 95% on the ginger scale, massively outdoing my 65-70%. (Note: The ginger scale is, as yet, an unofficial measurement. Other note: GINGERS HAVE SOUL. Laura would agree.)
Anyhow, to begin my blogging career, I will recount to you a dream I had this morning. You know how when you try to tell someone about a dream you start forgetting it? Well, when I began telling this dream I remembered even more. And it was deep as hell. And there's a TL;DNR version below, so if, like me, you are cursed with a short attention span don't stop reading yet.
DREAM SEQUENCE
I fell asleep at about 11AM. After a confusing labyrinth of a dream sequence that I can’t quite remember (I only have notions and emotions), I was watching a movie with Lauren V, Sarah, and Jenny, and we were sitting on a wood floor that seemed to be part of a large room of some sort, and there was an orange sunset behind us. For some reason, I felt a sense of loss (which I seem to remember could be explained by the missing segment of the dream– I believe it involved a convenience store), but as the girls tried to keep my mind off of whatever it was, I turned around to see nothing but glass. Papa was driving me home in a spaceship. That’s all I can call it because I know I was standing at a large windshield with an aisle behind me, we were rushing forward, and I was having trouble standing. The backdrop was a dream sunset: a gradient that contained every color. Papa, Eli, and Mama (both in the backseat) seemed somber, and although Riker was with us (at Papa’s feet, I saw him) Mama and Eli seemed to be hinting that he wasn’t. I looked back down only to catch a glimpse of a ghostly shade of a cat before I hit the floor. I found myself in a vast cubic room three stories tall that had floor, roof, and all sides made of wood except one of entirely glass. It was the same room I had been in with the girls earlier, but now was lit only by a full moon. I felt completely alone in this empty room, even when I noticed a silhouetted figure on the other side of the room. The ominous shadow walked closer and closer until it revealed itself as an old friend. It was a guy I remember from... Somewhere. He looked like a taller, musclier version of Jake, with the voice of Paul. (Paul is a wrestler from my high school. I didn't officially introduce him because I don't expect he'll be mentioned anymore.) I thought this familiar character had gone to my school and had been two grades above me, but I couldn’t put a name to the face. He had been a bit of a douche and had possibly bullied me in younger years, but he had also left before high school, and he was acting like a total bro now. Turns out this person was just a figment of my imagination, because in my waking state I know of no such person. We started catching up, but then he had to go. He, along with Russell (a professor who taught my intro to college class) and their "animation 4" class, were filming a scene for a movie. Spotlights hit a platform at one of the wood to wood corners of the room, and the class appeared on the platform. Two guys tried to summon super powers, but then Russell jumped epically to the floor. I began to chat about it with two random nerdy guys next to me, when Sarah appeared and grabbed me by the shoulder and pulled me to the dining hall entryway. It was different than usual, somehow, and I really noticed this when the woman who works at the desk swiped my card and handed me a handle of alcohol that had some sort of “sweet” name. I thought it was just a gag soda of some sort, but then I realized it was indeed 10% alcohol. I looked at Sarah, who had stepped back and was looking at me naively and expectantly. I asked her if I should give it back, thinking it was just a trick to catch me with alcohol. But then she got one herself and led me into the dining hall. I followed her around a corner to a crisp New Mexico morning. She had joined a crowd of people on a train station platform that I now realize must have been the purple line stop in Dedham, Massachusetts, because it looked like it, but also because at the center of the crowd was the governor of Massachusetts, Mitt Romney. He was making some impromptu inflammatory speech. I know it was inflammatory because the crowd was unresting, and I knew it was impromptu because he was traveling alone– no bodyguards. Immediately I knew something was fishy, and this notion was solidified as soon as I started to walk up the platform to stand next to Sarah who was somehow on the other side of the crowd. Rick Perry walked in front of me and gave me a Clooneyan glance of despisal, like he knew I knew what he was up to, but I didn’t think much of it, because he walked away unnoticed, and I had to go find Sarah, who turned out to have been replaced by some random person I don’t actually know but somehow thought I did. I wasn’t really listening to Romney, especially when I saw some scruffy dude with a sketchy coat walking away grumbling. I now know this man was the homeless guy who sometimes accosts me on my way into my local train station. Immediately I thought he was an assassin, and though I didn’t pay him much mind, sure enough, 15 seconds later he appeared on the other end of the platform with a small revolver that looked like just the barrel of a gun. He shot at Romney and we all dropped, I thought he had hit, but he must have missed and Romney must have pulled out a gun because they started having a retort-off. The guy just wanted Romney to clarify something he’d said, something that apparently would expose a great hole in Romney’s campaign. I was busy trying to crawl out of any possible gun range, when I was suddenly in between them both. The gunman had seen me moving and threatened to kill me, when Romney finally conceded what he had been hiding. Just as he was saying it, though, I woke up. The clock read 752, and I thought I had slept for nine hours. I was also confused because it was still light outside. (It was sunset, so it couldn’t have been AM.) I explained the shootout scene to Harrison, and walked out to the common room. I was amidst explaining the dream to Laura and someone else (Andy?) when I woke up again. it was 1208. I had only slept for an hour or less. I haven't gone to sleep or woken since then.
TL;DNR: I had a crazy dream in which I almost got shot, then woke up to what I thought was real, then woke up from that.
INCEPTION. Until now, I didn't know I could be inceived in real life, but such a circumstance is now proven to exist. Who knows? Maybe I'm still dreaming. dah-dah-duhhhhhhhhhhhhm
Either way, I've wanted to go back to sleep ever since my second wake up, but I have yet to have the opportunity. And I expect to remain awake for hours to come.
PS– Future posts are expected to be much shorter.
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