Khloe Kardashian

The last few nights, my dreams have been one big lump of scattered, unintelligible messes. It usually goes like this when I'm tired, stressed, or about to start my period. Since all the foregoing are true in my case this week, I am never surprised when I wake up knowing I just dreamed about a giraffe, eating spaghetti, and my father, in no particular sequence, and in no way related to each other, and shrug before inhaling sipping my morning cup of coffee. I just seem to skip between one grouping of jumbled images in my head after another, wake up, groggily wonder why Darling Husband looks like Dracula when he's sleeping, and then go back to sleep.

I think it's my brain's nonchalant, casual way of shrugging it's shoulders (do brains have shoulders?) and saying, Oh, and by the way? YOU ARE A NUT JOB.

A week or so ago, there is one dream I very vividly remember having about Khloe Kardashian. Yes, as in, that girl from the E! channel show. (It is at this point that I would try to shamelessly deny ever having watched it, that I would never not even for a million dollars be caught dead being so deliciously enthralled with a couple of bobble-head brunettes' meaningless lives, but *sigh upon sigh* I'll just be lying to myself.) I dreamed I was shopping with Khloe (who, even though I've never seen this show in my life, mind you, is the most intelligent and sophisticated of the three sisters, and whom, though I couldn't care a hoot about the subject, I would LOVE *squee* to make my shopping buddy any day of the week). We were going in and out of these designer stores in some sophisticated sounding city, like New York, or LA, and all of a sudden, I am confronted with a choice - stay with her and continue spending what little was left of my millions, wait, I have millions all of a sudden?; OR go to a baseball game.

I'm contemplating this choice, looking at Khloe for some kind of support, while she ignores me while texting on her phone, because, hey, she's Khloe Kardashian, and the fact that I even know how to spell her name, with a K instead of a C, really gives away just what a complete total loserterd I am, and who in the heck are they always texting anyways? I mean, do they really have something THAT important to say to someone that often during the day, and if so, why don't they call them instead of always sending their LOL's and ROFLMAO's? Are they pretending to text that much so that people will think they're cool and important, and young people everywhere will start imitating their textual rudeness so that soon every teenager in the greater United States will be simultaneously face-down in some glowing screen instead of learning how to save the world one green-friendly grocery bag at a time???

Clearly, I had much to digest mentally in my dream!

OR. Do I ditch KK (we're best friends, me and Khloe, so of course that's what BFF's do - LOL together and give each other nicknames) (not saying what mine is)? Or! Do I go to a exciting! baseball! game!

The decisions, I tell you, are monumental.

Next thing I know, in my dream, I'm sitting watching the game. No KK to serenade me with her tales of the latest stupid thing Kim has done on the Internet. I'm watching a baseball game as if it's the most natural thing in the world to be shopping Dolce&Gabbana and in the next second be eating a hotdog in the 4th inning.

Then, I woke up.

Why I started this blog

One day in the wee hours of the morning, when I was around eight years old, my mom awoke to the sound of barking. The sound was emanating from my room, loud and clear, and my mother would have quickly dismissed it except for one very weird fact: We didn't own a dog.

She opened the door to my bedroom and peeked inside, only to discover that her dearly beloved only daughter, ME, was the one doing the raucous barking...while I was fast asleep.

Since then, I have awoken many a-brethren with my audible nighttime sojourns. Now that I'm older, I no longer bark in my sleep (thank God); however, I do from time to time find that I have the most intense, theatrical, and sometimes downright humorously absurd dreams. And I have them often, too. I know it's probably due to the fact that I'm a very light sleeper, and that my neighbor's dog two houses down giving a yawn is enough to startle me awake because SOMEONE YAWNED SO LOUDLY. I know I have issues with sleep, and there have been many nights when I have poked Darling Hubby awake and asked him if heard that yawn and he'll tell me to shut up. It's this thing I have, inexplicable, annoying, and weird.

I was talking about one of my more crazy dreams to one of my friends, explaining the aliens and cane-wielding gun slingers (yea, you think I'm joking?) my brain had conjured up the night before, when, between chuckles, she said to me, Y'know, you really should blog about this.

And I thought, yeah. Why not? Why not take something so very personal as my dreams (and nightmares) (believe you me, I've had plenty of the latter as well) and expose it all here? If anyone ever asks what it is I'm doing right now, I can just simply say, SMEARING MY SOUL ACROSS A WEB PAGE, thankyouverymuch.

If anything, it will help me to see just how truly INSANE I really am. Chronicling my neuroses might even shed some light onto why I feel the way I do during the daytime, and how those fears are manifest during my night time.

Nighty Night is not meant to interpret dreams in any way, form, or manner. My belief is that my dreams are just my brain's way of sorting through the stresses and messes of my waking hours and sometimes communicate to me a fear or desire that I am just not up to facing at the moment. I don't want to hear interpretations, or how the purple unicorn in my dream is symbolic of my latent fear of toenail clippings. However, if you ever want to share something funny / interesting / not too (too) scary that you've recently dreamed / thought of / randomly coughed up this very second, please. Feel free to share. It would honestly be nice to know I'm not the only nut job here.