After Monday and Tuesday, even the calendar says W T F...

As I excitedly exclaimed, "Look! It's the fat-eating guy from The X-Files!" about a guest on ST:TNG, I also became curious as to how I've ever gotten laid...

New Home

Well,

 Here's to privacy (hopefully) and new beginnings (with more dirt). I have imported my more personal/academia/stepparenting-related blogs from my other blog. If you have just found me, I just need a more private place to vent, brag, be snarky, and bask in my own glory (or human-made disaster) and this blog is it. I have another blog where my privacy was being infringed upon (mostly the kids/husband/BM's friends knew about it) so I decided to come to a place where I could be more..."frank" without..."repercussions."

Enjoy (or not...I don't care.)

-Me

More academic dreams (literally)...

I rarely remember my dreams from the night before unless they are particularly traumatic, odd, or wonderful.



I believe last night's dreams acheived all 3 of these standards and so I must share.



Okay, preface: I have a "dream version" of SCU in my head. That is, whenever I dream about my university, I dream about the same place that doesn't actually exist every time. It has the same elevators, the same offices, the same layout, the same stairs, etc. but looks actually nothing like the real SCU. I don't know why my mind creates a familiar dream landscape for me, but it does (I also have dream versions of my parents' house, Walmart, and "my house").



In dream-SCU, the faculty offices are in a building not unlike the faculty office building on my campus. But the building inside has an atrium instead of elevators in the middle. Kind of like this...

But without the French Quarter theme.




My dream-SCU faculty building has corresponding offices for each of the professors I have dreamt about. Dr. Heartthrob's office is in the right corner across the way from the elevators. Dr. A's is 2 doors to the right of the elevators. Dr. Redhair is in the office next door to Dr. Heartthrob's, to the left. Et cetera. And there is a pool on the roof.



The pool is a new addition, brought to my attention only last night. It is heated and indoor and fairly private and I'd advise you to not go swimming in it as [at least one of] the faculty members apparently do naughty things there with undergrads [and possibly each other]... I'll let you know if it is still open next time I visit dream-SCU.


But my dreams did not end there, my friends. They did take a different turn though. We will now leave dream-SCU and travel to dream-gritty nightclub. This one still had an academic theme though, as my favorite professor had put me on the guestlist to come watch him play with his hair-metal cover band.


Ah, yes. There was my mentor, wearing a dusty blue bandana tied around his head, shredding tasty licks on the guitar, accompanied by a band of imagined 40-somethings who worship DLR as god-of-all-that-is-holy. After the set, I sat around backstage with this motley crew (pun intended) and we took shots of something opaque and notwhisky out of salt shakers (FYI: notwhisky = my word for everything people that aren't me take shots of). Dear mentor did instruct me to "take the top off" as I skeptically eyed the concoction in the less-than-conventional vessel.


What would Freud say? I don't even want to know.