"That's really freaky."

Believe it or not I've had a couple of half started blog entries over the week dealing with anything from my mother to the lesbian comedy show I saw on Wednesday. But in the end neither seemed particularly interesting, especially since I have nothing to show for my latest OFAG push, which I'm sure is what you all are anxiously waiting to hear about. Sigh. I haven't really been trying.

Last night I dreamt that I took a train to London, arriving at Kings Cross just as the sun was starting to go down. I was there with my parents and as we negotiated the recent construction, I told them that London had changed a lot since they had last been there. We then rented a car that looked like a black cab and then drove out into the countryside. I'm not sure why I have been dreaming so much of travel lately, but I think I shouldn't be reading Harry Potter before bed.

Beth called me on Tuesday from Sweden to check in on me. I hadn't talked to her in a while, especially since she left the States, but she was surprised that I didn't know that she was going to be living in Paris with her boyfriend Nils till Christmas.

"I thought you knew!"

"No, I had no idea," I insisted. "I must be really out of the loop."

"But you said on your blog that you dreamt of going to Paris, so I thought you knew."

"Nope. No clue."

"That's really freaky."

"Guess it means that I'm going to be visiting you and Neils in Paris."

Speaking of dreams, I also dreamt last night -- before going to London -- that I was having sex with my crazy ex-girlfriend. The dream was skeezily vivid, especially the part where her wife discovered us. Wretch. Vomit. Wretch. Note to subconscious: please do not go there. Ever. Again.

Excuse me while I go wash my soul with bleach.