I am not a horrible cook. I can follow a recipe as well as anyone, and I’ve concocted some decent suppers in my time. Apparently, today was not my time. Mom said I could get something together for myself since I’m not terribly fond of the cheese potato thing she was cooking *shudder*. So, with a merry heart, I chopped up peppers and onions and chicken, and it looked very respectable. I began to heat it up in the skillet, tossing in whatever was around: I’m pretty sure I put in some garlic salt, some powdered mustard, some soy sauce, and I really don’t know what all else. And then, I thought, hey, pepper. So, I put some pepper in. Only it was coming out really slow, so I kind of shook it, and suddenly an avalance, nay, a veritable flood of pepper was pouring out all into my food. It was black with pepper. I thought, well ok, I like my food spicy, this is not a problem, even though my eyes were watering just stirring it. Anyway, I choked down some of it, and then Mom asked to try some, so I gave her fair warning and stuff, but she ate a piece of chicken anyway. Or, tried to. She spit it out and ran for the sink and told me not to eat anymore of it. So then I washed some of the pieces of chicken off and ate a few of those, but the pepper had penetrated into the very heart of the chicken, and it was pretty disgusting, so I just had some cereal and gave up on the whole dinner thing altogether.

A Call For More Scientific Truth in Product Warning Labels

Oh oh, more dreams! This is actually from night before last, but you know how you forget all about a dream until you lie down again to go to sleep? That’s what happened, so I threw some stuff on the floor to remind myself of it in the morning. I do that a lot; I remember something just as I’m falling asleep, and I know I’ll forget it again while I sleep, so I throw something random on the floor so I don’t have to get out of bed. Then in the morning I see a book on the floor and think, “Now why is that there?” and then I remember whatever it was. Anyway, so this morning I found my hair elastic on the floor and I remembered! It’s a wee bit fuzzy, but apparently a group of us did something rather horrible. I don’t even know what it was (I think it may have even happened before the dream started), only that we all had to go into hiding immediately. I’m not entirely sure who all was there…in my dream I knew them all very well, but I know there was some girl there that I also know in real life, I’m just not sure who. Oh, and Major Lorne from Stargate Atlantis was there too, hehe. Yay for minor-role characters in dreams. Except not, because he got shot in our mad escape through a large office building, and we all piled into a very small getaway car, and he was bleeding all over the car seat, which wasn’t cool. We drove for ages, and whatever we did, it may have caused some sort of breakdown in the entire economic system, because it was hard to find food and everything was very end-of-the-worldish, although we weren’t really bothered by that. I’m pretty sure it was temporary. We found a huge shipping freighter or something that was beached in Iowa (I think…it may have been Kansas) and huge numbers of refugees were swarming all over it. We walked in all furtive and dramatic and inside a bunch of low-lifes were gambling and homeless people were sleeping in parts of the ship. We scrounged around for food and found some pretty decent watermelon in a fridge down in the hold. Then me and the other girl (I know I know her, it’s really annoying) found some furniture stored down there too, which was apparently very important. We stopped and put a table together and took it with us. It seems furniture had become quite rare or something. We hauled it out very surreptitiously and some people tried to take it from us but we were very hard-bitten, criminal types and we scared them off. We finally found a jungle in which we decided to hide out, so we set up the table there. We dressed in animal skins and built houses up in the trees so the tigers wouldn’t eat us at night, and we lived there for several generations. We were a very close-knit group, and for some reason we didn’t see the need to actually talk much, so after a couple generations we couldn’t speak very well, though we could still communicate. Then one day, my granddaughter, who was actually me (I was seeing the dream from her perspective, anyway) stumbled across a bunch of people who had heard rumors of the wild folk living in the jungle. They were investigating and found one of our rope bridges. She (I?) came across them and they saw her and chased after her, but when I got to the end of the rope bridge I just flew away. She flew and warned the rest of them, but they had a counsel and decided the folks weren’t all bad and maybe they could go back to society now, because whatever their grandparents did, everyone had forgotten about, and clearly the world hadn’t ended. So that’s what we did, and I woke up.

BUT. That wasn’t the cool part. I mean, it was, but not the REALLY cool part.
I realized for the first time that I fly in so many of my dreams! I just never noticed because in my dreams it’s so incredibly natural that I really never gave it a second thought, and then when I woke up it still seemed so common-place that it didn’t register. But it finally registered! I can fly! I fly almost every night!! And I remember how I did it! If I were 10 years younger I would run outside and try it right now, but that would just be disappointing. It was SO COOL!! I don’t know why I never noticed it before because now I remember doing it a million times.

Skipped around from thing to thing a lot today. We had a fair amount of chores around the house, archery, reading more of Mr. Murder (good, as always), reading a little of volume I of Lucy Maud Montgomery’s journals, music, language practice, etc. Ed and I also saw The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, which was rather a disappointment. It was only about 7.6% as good as the books. I think it might just be one of those books you can’t turn into a movie…as a book, it’s snappy and witty and hilarious. As a movie, it’s just kinda dumb. To quote Ed, “I don’t feel more intelligent for having watched that.” You had to be there, the delivery was everything.

Oh, and as for L.M. Montgomery, I can see now how she wrote the Anne of Green Gables books; she *was* Anne of Green Gables. I’m reading the journal she wrote when she was 15 and it’s just like reading Anne, the character voice is identical (if you can use ‘character voice’ to describe a real person). It’s quite neat, actually.

What?? Why does the “restless” mood have a sad face? Restless isn’t bad, it’s just restless!