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Jun. 14th, 2007 02:43 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
phthalombrageLast night I had this creepy dream in which I somehow obtained (I think I remember being handed them, like standing at the prize case at chuck e cheese and thinking 'oh ho, I'll need this...')
(i) a pink iguana
(ii) a day-glo blue iguana
(iii) a big pink slug
(iv) a big purple slug
(v) several additional budgerigars
(vi) a big red bird of some sort
(vii) two goldfish I had apparently had originally
and I was all concerned about losing them in my house. I knew I had two bird cages, and wanted to put the big one in the small cage by himself because an invisible male voice told me he was a different species and would not get along with the other birds. I was concerned that nobody would take care of him otherwise and convinced myself that these were only temporary housing arrangements. I thought I had a terrarium (the one we found at Gulf Gate) on the washing machine for whatever reason, which I wanted to put the iguanas in with some sticks and stuff, but I never made it out there since the red bird almost flew outside to the grounds of the imaginary theme park I've visited in my dreams before and I had to be preoccupied with that. Somehow all the budgerigars were together in the new spiffy cage, and I remembered Percival but apparently his multitude of friends didn't faze me. The slugs stayed on the poles of my bunk bed, and the goldfish vaporized because I had put them in a bucket like you get soup in from chinese takeout places... without any water in it. I was kind of shocked about this and wondering where their skeletons went so fast... when I woke up.
Pink animals? Categorized in small containers?
Why?
Is this some kind of metaphor about my life?
Never, never!
Now I can't sleep. My parents came to recital, the parking lot smelled like a funeral home, I ate broccoli soup (jalapenos are actually good, wha?) and Paradise Pie (no honeydew for me), I wrote a long e-mail to Ginny, lurked facebook, checked webcomics and played texttwist... New Flash player won't load and I need to learn sequences and series to prove my mettle to Tool Time Barbie, my faculty advisor who may no longer be my advisor if my AP credit stacks up right.
I like the smell of my garage.
(i) a pink iguana
(ii) a day-glo blue iguana
(iii) a big pink slug
(iv) a big purple slug
(v) several additional budgerigars
(vi) a big red bird of some sort
(vii) two goldfish I had apparently had originally
and I was all concerned about losing them in my house. I knew I had two bird cages, and wanted to put the big one in the small cage by himself because an invisible male voice told me he was a different species and would not get along with the other birds. I was concerned that nobody would take care of him otherwise and convinced myself that these were only temporary housing arrangements. I thought I had a terrarium (the one we found at Gulf Gate) on the washing machine for whatever reason, which I wanted to put the iguanas in with some sticks and stuff, but I never made it out there since the red bird almost flew outside to the grounds of the imaginary theme park I've visited in my dreams before and I had to be preoccupied with that. Somehow all the budgerigars were together in the new spiffy cage, and I remembered Percival but apparently his multitude of friends didn't faze me. The slugs stayed on the poles of my bunk bed, and the goldfish vaporized because I had put them in a bucket like you get soup in from chinese takeout places... without any water in it. I was kind of shocked about this and wondering where their skeletons went so fast... when I woke up.
Pink animals? Categorized in small containers?
Why?
Is this some kind of metaphor about my life?
Never, never!
Now I can't sleep. My parents came to recital, the parking lot smelled like a funeral home, I ate broccoli soup (jalapenos are actually good, wha?) and Paradise Pie (no honeydew for me), I wrote a long e-mail to Ginny, lurked facebook, checked webcomics and played texttwist... New Flash player won't load and I need to learn sequences and series to prove my mettle to Tool Time Barbie, my faculty advisor who may no longer be my advisor if my AP credit stacks up right.
I like the smell of my garage.
