Someone in my dream tried to compare themselves to Ernest Hemingway and I lost my sh** on them, all “OH MY GOD, DON’T. JUST SHUT UP IMMEDIATELY BECAUSE NO.”

Apparently, I have pretty strong feelings for the guy, I dunno.

Speaking of strong feelings, I’m currently accepting donations to the “get me to see Neil DeGrasse Tyson when he comes here in the spring because if I don’t see/hear/meet him live I will probably puke” fund. Cheap seats are $53 and some change, make checks payable to ‘obsessive nerd.’



Last night I dreamt that my husband suffered a heart attack, but that I saved his life with mouth to mouth resuscitation. He just fell over onto a diaper changing station and I was all “OMG, I GOT THIS, I ACTUALLY DID THIS FOR MR. ROGERS JUST LAST WEEK.”

Of course then we argued because he was so true to real life, all “you’re over-reacting, I just fell asleep for a second.” “OH, REALLY. ON A DIAPER CHANGING STATION.”

I dunno, guys.

Thankfully my brain switched gears to a wild tiger tormenting me from our backyard while I watched out the window, crying.

I usually have figuring out my misfirings down to a science, but I’m blaming this one on watching Wilfred and eating cheez whiz right before bed.

#ugh #mylife


Things I want to remember forever:

The misfirings* I had the other night, in which my oldest daughter found the Ring forged by Sauron himself in the fires of Mount Doom. It was basically just me yelling at her to get rid of it, her slipping it on and disappearing every time I would talk – so, ya know, super fun and not frustrating at all/also kiiiind of hilarious.

*girlfriend has been a super sass, i’ve been playing a lot of video games and a general love of LotR, probably.

My son at soccer practice. All my kids at soccer practice, really, but I honestly thought that boy was going to spend the whole season orbiting my legs. I knew I’d cry and be proud of him x infinity anyway because that’s what moms do, but instead he’s running around and smiling and talking to his coaches and was a MAJOR pouty pants when his practice was over because it was “too short” and he wasn’t ready to leave. Gaaaahhhh, so proud.

Every trip to the planetarium, ever.

How t-storms rolled through last night and my husband made homemade popcorn and we all sat together on the couch while I read The Hobbit until our babies fell asleep and I had to carry them to bed.

And this morning, the sound of my children FREAKING OUT and narrating the story of the mom and dad ducks that were in our yard.



GUYS. My misfirings* are literally so weird.

For instance, I woke up in a panicky sweat around 6 this morning after dreaming that my husband let a rabid bat loose near my head.

Now, I feel like it’s pretty well established around these parts that I’m terrified of winged things, but if you didn’t know, now you know. Planes, birds, insects, just…nope, nope, nope. But I’m always making exceptions for one creature, like “AWWW, BUT BATS ARE SO CUTE AND CREEPY!” and so in my dream I was like “Oh my gosh, honey, look at that bat! Catch it for me!”

…I dunno.

He catches it for me, of course, and it is indeed super cute and so I’m trying to pet it, but it loses it’s s*** and starts lunging at my husband’s face. And now the guy is laughing – because he’s nuts, I guess – while I’m over there screaming at him to let it go because the bat is hissing and shaking and just acting generally rabid.

He finally let’s it go, it flies at my head, I wake up near tears, vigorously patting the top of my head to check for rabid bats as if that’s a thing you’d need to feel around and check for…?

Thankfully, I was able to fall back asleep and have a much better creature dream about mutant turtles, but still.

*was arguing with my husband yesterday evening, heard a story about a dog bite shortly before bed, and a general love of bats and teenage mutant ninja turtles, probably.



I was finally able to catch some z’s and visit dreamland last night – after getting basically zero winks at all since Sunday when gastroenteritis hit everyone in our house except for me knock on wood omg – and what a visit it was.

…Both the dreamland and the gastroenteritis, I suppose.

So I’m walking these halls, running really, with droves of people who are all doing the same things. Saying the same things, looking at the same things, asking each other all the same questions, all using the same lotion (might seem super weird, but I have misfirings figured out to a T*) and I’m keeping pace with their walking, but I keep interjecting random questions and pointing out things that everyone ISN’T looking at and no one even glances in my direction.

It was like they were on this residual loop and were completely unaware of anything else.

I was markedly frustrated, as one ought to be in a similar situation, but then I passed a table where James Earl Jones was sitting and he was all “Hey, you! Let’s have lunch!”


And he laughed and we ate pizza and ice cream.

*my hands are freakishly dry from all the hand washing i’ve been doing to stay healthy, james earl jones saying “totes mcgotes” is my ringtone, so i’m thinking about his cute face every time i get a text, and a general love of pizza and ice cream, probably.


My obsession with the science guy runs deeeeeep.

Last night I had a dream that he was at my house talking planets with me, and that he misplaced one of his favorite mittens (whatever, vernal equinox) and I was all “don’t sweat it, Bill, just give me your number and I’ll call you if/when I find it! LOLOLOL JK I’LL CALL YOU EVERY DAY FOREVER, DUH.”

I woke up legitimately pissed it was just a misfiring* and now I’m sipping a bottled frap out of a straw and catching up on COSMOS: A Spacetime Odyssey with my little crew before we head to the library in case you were on the edge of your seat about my life today, I dunno.

*a combination of yesterday’s spring snowstorm, my reading of an article posted by the planetary society shortly before falling asleep, and a general love of bill nye the science guy, probably.

bears, beets, battlestar galactica. but mostly just bears.

It’s whatever time it is pm and I’m still reeling from last night’s dream where I was chased by a bear who had zero problems opening any door. Push, pull, locked – didn’t matter – dude could open up every single door.

I get on the Google machine this morning because some days I’m like “Dreams totally mean something, man. It’s like, your subconscious and stuff, man.” As opposed to most days where I’m just like “I should have never watched GhostHunters right before falling asleep.”

So I read on some website that bears in your dreams represent independence and strength, unless they’re chasing you and then that means you’re in the middle of some sort of “overwhelming obstacle.”


This whole thought that dreams have meanings might be total hokum.

Oh my gosh, UNLESS that dream was about level 347 of Candy Crush…!

Whatever, holla at me on Pet Rescue because I will NOT be chased by anymore bears.

(I dunno, guys, I turn thirty tomorrow and maybe there’s a magical switch that will make me less weird.)