the truth is slippery like eels

Hi blog world :) I thought I would join this realm of internet society and actually write stuff after being an avid reader of the blog of a lovely lady named Judy Clement. You can read all about her on Zebra Sounds. She is my hero. I am also join the blog club because I like to think extensively about silly and sometimes interesting things so I decided to start writing them.

For the past week or so I've been taking Benadryl for a case of hives that attacked me after drinking a bottle of awful plum wine. The medicine affected me in two ways. First, it got rid of my hives and second, it created some very bizarre and vivid dreams in my unconscious mind. Today, in the wee hours of the morning I had a nightmare so traumatizing, it prevented me from getting out of bed for morning classes. In the last five or ten minutes I had been captured by a family of robbers/killers/pirates/something weird and they kept telling me they were going to kill me soon. I begged them not to, saying that dying was what I was scared of most of all. At the end of the all the horror was slowly dying from a lethal injection to my toe while talking to a little girl. I was telling her that she had beautiful hair and that her father must love her very much. Like the Benadryl, this dream affected me in two ways, besides scaring the pants off me. First, it reminded me that I don't have a very good relationship with my dad and second, I'm extremely scared to die. I think my hives and brain are teaming up trying to tell me something.

While on the subject of little girls and their fathers, I was bopping around the wondrous interwebs and I came across a fascinating site about the origins of popular fairy tales. I quite enjoyed this site, take a look!

Good night, here's a peek into my dreamland.