My Brain is Out to Get Me!

Its Wednesday, July 20, 2011, I'm excited about movies this week, and this is The Side. Unfortunately, while I am excited about movies, there's not much to actually write about. CAPTAIN AMERICA: THE FIRST AVENGER hit the screen Friday, and I'm working on getting a sitter to go check it out. Very excited about that. Also, the first teaser for THE AVENGERS got leaked, but that's getting pulled down by YouTube almost as fast as people are uploading it, hence no video on here. If you get a chance to see it, its pretty cool. They don't show much, but definitely has me stoked.

And then there the DARK KNIGHT RISES teaser that ran with the HARRY POTTER movie. Heard about that through my usual news sources due to lack of caring about Harry Potter. Saw the teaser. I had wondered that with my huge disappointment with THE DARK KNIGHT if my nerd instincts would kick in and I'd get excited to see the movie in spite of myself. Nope. I just don't care about Christopher Nolan's work anymore.


My kid came up to me in the wee hours of the morning as I was checking the news online.

"Daddy, a big, colorful bug bit my elbow and Mommy squished that bug!"

"Let me see your elbow, sweetie." I checked over her elbow to see this bug bite. I had barely had a chance to see her the day before with work and karate.

"No. There's no ouchie." She laughed and pulled her arm away. It took me a moment to catch on.

"Did you have a dream about a bug biting you?"

"Yes! And Mommy squished that bug!" That should have been my first clue that it was a dream. The Missus isn't much for bug squishing, typically leaving that chore to me. Still, it was possible that her powerful maternal instincts would overcome her bug-squishing squeamishness. I took her back to bed because it was still too early for her to be up and I put her little plush alligator in the bed with her for which to eat any dream bugs that might prey upon her elbow.

My subconscious sucks. I never have any good dreams. I see these TV shows in which some guy is dreaming about hot girls, having lots of money, or being famous. Not me. Its always an apocalypse, or a serial killer after me, or one of those dreams in which you're supposed to be doing something and the moment I figure out what the hell I'm supposed to be doing I've shifted to some different scene and am back to square one.

And its never simple. About a week ago I dreamed at was at my Grandparents old place down at Lake Gaston. Was I eating bar-be-que on the pontoon boat and drinking an ice cold soda like I used to do on my trips there? Of course not! I had to figure out the code. I don't even know what the code was for! But is was a book code, so I had to figure out which book I needed to decipher the message. You know those. There's a series of numbers corresponding to pages and certain words. But I spent that REM cycle trying to figure out which book I needed. Finally I did, and then the alarm went off. Cool. Dream closure is always good right?

NO! Because sure enough a week later, I was having the same dream, complete with lack of bar-be-que and soda, and I forgot which book cracked the code!! Thus leading to another frustrating REM cycle of me searching everywhere I could, and examining every book I came across. On top of which I was totally pissed at my subconscious self for forgetting which book it was. That's right, I knew I was stuck on a GROUNDHOG'S DAY dream rerun but had no clue how to get out of it.

I'm actually kind of pissed at myself now for not knowing which book it is.

There's lots of theories about dreaming. Some people say that there's meaning to them and seek to divine understanding from them. Others think it's your brain shifting and sorting the day's sensory input. Some just think its the old grey matter cooling off after a hard day of thinking. I have to lean towards that last one because what the hell do those first two imply about me? I don't even want to think of going there.

But now I've gone and thought about it. Probably meaning tonight's REM cycle is going to be one huge laugh riot.

I should just slug down a double dose of NyQuil but after a while that stuff makes you stupid, and frankly I'd be just heartbroken with that happened you people couldn't tell the difference.


I get really sick of those wannabe country pop stars singing songs about being "more country" than each other. You ain't country just because you have a steel guitar in your band, you cowboy hat wearing pansies. Grow some talent, and get some soul. Time for a bit of Old Crow Medicine Show.

I was going to type "That's my two cents" but that may be an overestimation of my blog's worth. That and I'm against pennies. So with that, I'll see y'all Friday.

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