Hello and welcome to my blog. If you are a repeat visitor, thank you for visiting again! If this is your first time, I would like to recommend a few of my favorite dreams:
Coldstone Classic
Educating Jimmer
Just Try to Hit Me in the Stomach
I put a lot of effort into retelling my dreams exactly how I remember them. Since I have no conscious control over the material, I admit some of them are more entertaining than others; however, I vow to never post a dream that is completely lame. So if you haven't read the three dreams above, check out the older posts until you find them and I hope you enjoy them as much as I did when I experienced them the first time.
May all of your wildest dreams come true! (As for me, I hope most of mine don't come true.)
P.S. I apologize for all of the ads that are now popping up.
Wednesday, April 24, 2013
How to Influence People & Survive a Tornado
My game plan kept running through my mind. Keep him talking. Don't bring up the account directly. Ask him about his interests. Keep the focus on him. Listen. Listen. Listen. I expected the meeting would take place in person. My cell phone started to ring. I answered. It was him. Oh no, I thought, this is all going to go down right now over the phone. I allowed myself two seconds of pity and decided it was game time. I asked him questions about his son who plays baseball. I asked him questions about his alma mater. He shared memories of the past. I listened intently. The conversation continued for several minutes. I was literally enjoying myself. And then after a very lengthy conversation, he said he was under the impression that I represented the corporation that offered products and services that he needed. I confirmed. He then agreed to sign on with his initial account order totaling more than $90,000. I finished the necessary transaction information over the phone and told him I would be in touch soon.
By this time, I had rerouted myself back to my hotel. No need to go to his office now. I was smiling and thinking about how Dale Carnegie really knew what he was talking about when it comes to winning people over to your way of thinking. I briefly considered sending a recap of my experience to his people who still run seminars. I had treated this man like one of my true friends and he rewarded me handsomely with a $90,000+ account, and all of that over the phone. This was a grand accomplishment for me, I started to consider. I was not a trained salesperson, certainly not at this level. I didn't need sales training, I had people training! Then I thought, really this is no big deal. After all, I intend to do the whole process again tomorrow. Look out world, I intend to win you over!
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I informed my mother that I was going out for the evening. She gave me the usual speech about being careful, especially while driving out north in the dark. I nodded my head, but gave little thought to her speech. Of course I would be careful.
I hadn't been on the Acequia Highway too long when the weather started to change drastically. The wind came on so strong and visibility was disappearing. The air was no longer clear, it was the strangest mix of rain, dust, and debris. And then without warning the twister touched down right in front of my passenger headlight. It slammed into my windshield throwing soup cans, soda cans, and other debris against the glass that separated me from its fury. Was this the recycling tornado, seeking it's vengeance on my years of not recycling? Then my car was being pulled in another direction. As I shot off the road, the twister let go of my car and rambled off into the distance. I was breathless. I had just been attacked by a tornado in southern Idaho. Was I injured? No, I concluded, just severely jilted. I decided to go for help.
Leaving my car on foot, I found a dwelling. It couldn't really be called a home. I mean it had different sections. Each section had a roof and walls, but no single section had all four walls. At first I thought the tornado had caused the destruction. After studying which walls were missing, I realized the dwelling had been constructed this way on purpose. A teenage girl met my gaze. I explained my plight and she invited me in. I found several children inside, but no adults. There was in infant crying in the corner and one of the older children went to pick up the baby. The teenage girl was now at what I concluded must be the kitchen sink. She and I watched the weather outside the window until the sky turned blue and the sunlight returned. I listened intently to the children behind us as we watched the weather. I wondered how they came to live in this place. I wondered who their parents were and where they had gone. I wondered if they all had the same parents. I wondered why I had never noticed their strange dwelling so close to a relatively busy road before. But as soon as the sunlight returned, I left without saying a word and began the walk back to my abandoned car.
Disclaimer: Both of these dreams occurred in the same night, although they were two distinctly separate dreams. I have been rereading "How to Win Friends and Influence People" in real life and trying to internalize its principles. And I confess I did grow up in a county that has no recycling program; however, if I really did find children abandoned in a home missing walls, I would not just walk away.
By this time, I had rerouted myself back to my hotel. No need to go to his office now. I was smiling and thinking about how Dale Carnegie really knew what he was talking about when it comes to winning people over to your way of thinking. I briefly considered sending a recap of my experience to his people who still run seminars. I had treated this man like one of my true friends and he rewarded me handsomely with a $90,000+ account, and all of that over the phone. This was a grand accomplishment for me, I started to consider. I was not a trained salesperson, certainly not at this level. I didn't need sales training, I had people training! Then I thought, really this is no big deal. After all, I intend to do the whole process again tomorrow. Look out world, I intend to win you over!
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I informed my mother that I was going out for the evening. She gave me the usual speech about being careful, especially while driving out north in the dark. I nodded my head, but gave little thought to her speech. Of course I would be careful.
I hadn't been on the Acequia Highway too long when the weather started to change drastically. The wind came on so strong and visibility was disappearing. The air was no longer clear, it was the strangest mix of rain, dust, and debris. And then without warning the twister touched down right in front of my passenger headlight. It slammed into my windshield throwing soup cans, soda cans, and other debris against the glass that separated me from its fury. Was this the recycling tornado, seeking it's vengeance on my years of not recycling? Then my car was being pulled in another direction. As I shot off the road, the twister let go of my car and rambled off into the distance. I was breathless. I had just been attacked by a tornado in southern Idaho. Was I injured? No, I concluded, just severely jilted. I decided to go for help.
Leaving my car on foot, I found a dwelling. It couldn't really be called a home. I mean it had different sections. Each section had a roof and walls, but no single section had all four walls. At first I thought the tornado had caused the destruction. After studying which walls were missing, I realized the dwelling had been constructed this way on purpose. A teenage girl met my gaze. I explained my plight and she invited me in. I found several children inside, but no adults. There was in infant crying in the corner and one of the older children went to pick up the baby. The teenage girl was now at what I concluded must be the kitchen sink. She and I watched the weather outside the window until the sky turned blue and the sunlight returned. I listened intently to the children behind us as we watched the weather. I wondered how they came to live in this place. I wondered who their parents were and where they had gone. I wondered if they all had the same parents. I wondered why I had never noticed their strange dwelling so close to a relatively busy road before. But as soon as the sunlight returned, I left without saying a word and began the walk back to my abandoned car.
Disclaimer: Both of these dreams occurred in the same night, although they were two distinctly separate dreams. I have been rereading "How to Win Friends and Influence People" in real life and trying to internalize its principles. And I confess I did grow up in a county that has no recycling program; however, if I really did find children abandoned in a home missing walls, I would not just walk away.
Thursday, November 1, 2012
Police. Parkour. Perform. Peace. Please?
I was startled by the landscape before me, a gorgeous panoramic autumn view. I LOVE the color red and the brighter and bolder the better. This is what surprised me the most about this view that was taking my breath away, it was almost entirely devoid of red. Rather the leaves in the distant canyon were a very muted mixture of browns and oranges. Was this Spanish Fork Canyon? Hobble Creek Canyon? Why hadn't I been paying more attention to my surroundings? I knew I was in Utah County, but was still slightly disoriented. My mother had recently told me of the family meeting place up ahead and something about getting the rental car returned in time.
Suddenly there was a police officer on his motorcycle behind me with his lights flashing. I pulled my own motorcycle over to the shoulder. He somehow beckoned me to meet him off the shoulder at a decorative brick wall. As I approached the wall he told me that I was pulled over for passing a vehicle on the left. I began to tell him very sincerely how sorry I was as I walked around the back of the brick wall and hoisted myself up on to the top. I considered saying that I was distracted while driving, but caught myself just in time, realizing that admitting I was driving distracted to an officer of the law was a guaranteed ticket. I looked at his face as I continued to fumble through a lengthy apology. I wondered if he would give me the ticket any way. He looked as if he genuinely felt sorry for me.
As I sat on top of the brick wall, eyeing the officer below, he began to perform his best parkour for me. He was successfully launching himself from one end of the brick wall to the other, approximately 15 feet across, without making contact with any point in the middle. I was genuinely impressed and very, very confused. He continued to launch back and forth, occasionally adding a twist, leg or arm position change, or complete rotation.
When the performance was over he asked me to come down off the wall. I obliged and meet him on the front side. There he pointed to his satchel and asked me to look inside. I found receipts, ticket stubs, and candy wrappers. Each small piece of paper had some reference to the Utah Jazz, a date of a game, a statistic for a particular player, the time shown on the clock when a timeout was called, etc. He then proceeded to tell me he was collecting all of these memoirs so that when the Jazz finally win the Playoffs, he will have their entire victorious season fiercely documented.
He told me to follow him into the lobby of a nearby movie theater. Once inside he turned around and asked, "Do you like the show you have seen here?"
I answered, "I've been seeing shows here since I was a child, so yes, I guess that I have seen several shows that I like."
"No," he was choosing his next words carefully, "I mean do you like the show I've been putting on for you? You see, my friends have been wanting to set you up with so and so for a really long time. They asked me to pull you over, spend some time with you, and ultimately decide if I thought you were a good match for our friend. I wholeheartedly agree with their assessment, so can I give him your number now?"
As he spoke, I remember that so and so had been suggested as a possible set up many months ago, but nothing more had ever come of it. I had no intention of giving him my number for about a dozen important reasons, but I had a bigger concern on my mind. I countered, "Wait a minute. Have you been following me for a long time?"
He instantly looked sheepish.
"How else would you have had the perfect time to pull me over. It's as if you were waiting for me to make a slight mistake. Have you been using your position of authority to stalk me as a romantic interest for your friend?!?!?"
"Yes, yes I am ashamed to say that I have. But I assure you that I never meant to be creepy or to make you feel uncomfortable. I just had to have the chance to find out if you are the one. Oh, and you should probably know that someone else has planted so and so in a position to get to know your family well before he gets to know you."
Disclaimer: I have never been pulled over for passing on the left. I have never driven a motorcycle, let alone been a passenger on one. I have never scaled a brick wall without the help of someone else and as far as I know no one is currently trying to woo my family in a back door effort to get to me. Maybe I should call my mother just in case...
Suddenly there was a police officer on his motorcycle behind me with his lights flashing. I pulled my own motorcycle over to the shoulder. He somehow beckoned me to meet him off the shoulder at a decorative brick wall. As I approached the wall he told me that I was pulled over for passing a vehicle on the left. I began to tell him very sincerely how sorry I was as I walked around the back of the brick wall and hoisted myself up on to the top. I considered saying that I was distracted while driving, but caught myself just in time, realizing that admitting I was driving distracted to an officer of the law was a guaranteed ticket. I looked at his face as I continued to fumble through a lengthy apology. I wondered if he would give me the ticket any way. He looked as if he genuinely felt sorry for me.
As I sat on top of the brick wall, eyeing the officer below, he began to perform his best parkour for me. He was successfully launching himself from one end of the brick wall to the other, approximately 15 feet across, without making contact with any point in the middle. I was genuinely impressed and very, very confused. He continued to launch back and forth, occasionally adding a twist, leg or arm position change, or complete rotation.
When the performance was over he asked me to come down off the wall. I obliged and meet him on the front side. There he pointed to his satchel and asked me to look inside. I found receipts, ticket stubs, and candy wrappers. Each small piece of paper had some reference to the Utah Jazz, a date of a game, a statistic for a particular player, the time shown on the clock when a timeout was called, etc. He then proceeded to tell me he was collecting all of these memoirs so that when the Jazz finally win the Playoffs, he will have their entire victorious season fiercely documented.
He told me to follow him into the lobby of a nearby movie theater. Once inside he turned around and asked, "Do you like the show you have seen here?"
I answered, "I've been seeing shows here since I was a child, so yes, I guess that I have seen several shows that I like."
"No," he was choosing his next words carefully, "I mean do you like the show I've been putting on for you? You see, my friends have been wanting to set you up with so and so for a really long time. They asked me to pull you over, spend some time with you, and ultimately decide if I thought you were a good match for our friend. I wholeheartedly agree with their assessment, so can I give him your number now?"
As he spoke, I remember that so and so had been suggested as a possible set up many months ago, but nothing more had ever come of it. I had no intention of giving him my number for about a dozen important reasons, but I had a bigger concern on my mind. I countered, "Wait a minute. Have you been following me for a long time?"
He instantly looked sheepish.
"How else would you have had the perfect time to pull me over. It's as if you were waiting for me to make a slight mistake. Have you been using your position of authority to stalk me as a romantic interest for your friend?!?!?"
"Yes, yes I am ashamed to say that I have. But I assure you that I never meant to be creepy or to make you feel uncomfortable. I just had to have the chance to find out if you are the one. Oh, and you should probably know that someone else has planted so and so in a position to get to know your family well before he gets to know you."
Disclaimer: I have never been pulled over for passing on the left. I have never driven a motorcycle, let alone been a passenger on one. I have never scaled a brick wall without the help of someone else and as far as I know no one is currently trying to woo my family in a back door effort to get to me. Maybe I should call my mother just in case...
Thursday, May 17, 2012
Hunger Locker
Please stop the bombing. Will someone please stop the bombing? My ears felt as if they would rupture from the incessant boom claps around me. The rubble was difficult to climb over and through and the dust in the air was scraping my throat cells like a strep test. What kind of society launches war on itself to find out who can really hack being an American? I didn't know all of the rules of this engagement, but I knew that people were dying for no reason and my only way to win was to outlive all of the chaos around me. They said there would be mentors in the war zone, but they would not be able to announce themselves. Figuring out who to trust was part of proving ourselves. As I struggled to keep my now burning eyes open, I came face to face with her. She had a pleasant face and looked as if she had stepped out of her role as principal in a high school sitcom. Still I didn't know if she could be trusted. She pointed across the arena to a row of high school lockers and proceeded to explain, "If you get inside, you will be protected from the bombs, but no one knows any of the combinations, so once the door closes, you may never get out again."
I made my way to the lockers and noticed that all of the locker doors were open. One was clearly meant for me. I found books and manuals stacked inside and my jacket. The books were not in any order that was pleasing to me, so I reorganized them and pulled the jacket off the hook. The sun was going down, and I knew I would need this jacket. It was then that I realized I was being watched.
She wasn't very intimidating, in fact she was quite the opposite. I figured an alliance could only be helpful at this point and asked her if she would like to come along. She consented and I started to wonder if she was going to kill me for my jacket.
Disclaimer: It's been weeks since I read or saw the Hunger Games, but I did recently see an episode of Boy Meets World where Cory climbs into his locker to escape the wrath of Harley Kiner...
I made my way to the lockers and noticed that all of the locker doors were open. One was clearly meant for me. I found books and manuals stacked inside and my jacket. The books were not in any order that was pleasing to me, so I reorganized them and pulled the jacket off the hook. The sun was going down, and I knew I would need this jacket. It was then that I realized I was being watched.
She wasn't very intimidating, in fact she was quite the opposite. I figured an alliance could only be helpful at this point and asked her if she would like to come along. She consented and I started to wonder if she was going to kill me for my jacket.
Disclaimer: It's been weeks since I read or saw the Hunger Games, but I did recently see an episode of Boy Meets World where Cory climbs into his locker to escape the wrath of Harley Kiner...
Senior Prom
Ah springtime and prom. After precariously traversing four years of high school, senior prom had finally arrived. I was delighted to be asked by a boy who was always fun to be around. Sure, prom would be more magical if I were actually in to my date, but at least I was going to have a good time. In the chaos in between classes I found myself face to face with my sophomore pal. He was furious and shoved a stack of jumbled papers into my arms. He then proceeded to yell at me in front of the entire school. The purpose of his rant was to inform me that he had been in love with me all year and I had rejected him and he couldn't take it any more. I knew we were friends and I remembered the day back in September when our paths crossed and I bonded with him and his best friend.
I had never considered that he liked me as more than a friend, so his verbal explosion was shocking. I tried to calmly tell him that I didn't know. "Didn't know? How could you not know? I have been writing you notes for an entire year! I confessed my love multiple times and I even asked you to prom. Instead you told What's His Bucket that you would go with him instead. I can't take it any more, stop breaking my heart." It was then that I realized the stack of papers in my hands, were the notes he had taken from my locker because I had seen no harm in him knowing my combination. The notes in my hands were all written in spanish. I don't speak spanish and it was then that it all finally clicked. He thought I had spanish this semester and he had been writing all of his love declaring notes in a language I could not read. Until this time I had never been concerned about the fact that I couldn't read them, but I did feel bad that I forgot to tell him that I had dropped my spanish class.
I fumbled through every apology I could muster and tried to convince him that I really didn't know he was in love with me and that I was truly sorry. He didn't buy a single word and left me alone in the hallway.
Next came the notification that my super fun prom date had proposed to my second cousin and that they were really getting married after graduation. What could be more awkward than going to prom with your second cousin's fiance? I decided it was time to let him off the hook and take his fiancee instead of me. He gratefully accepted my suggestion.
So even if my sophomore friend would never take me to prom since I unintentionally broke his heart and even if my date got engaged to someone else, I will still get asked to prom right?!?! How could I not get asked to prom?!?!?!?!
Disclaimer: No hearts were broken in the making of this dream and I am way too old to get asked to prom.
I had never considered that he liked me as more than a friend, so his verbal explosion was shocking. I tried to calmly tell him that I didn't know. "Didn't know? How could you not know? I have been writing you notes for an entire year! I confessed my love multiple times and I even asked you to prom. Instead you told What's His Bucket that you would go with him instead. I can't take it any more, stop breaking my heart." It was then that I realized the stack of papers in my hands, were the notes he had taken from my locker because I had seen no harm in him knowing my combination. The notes in my hands were all written in spanish. I don't speak spanish and it was then that it all finally clicked. He thought I had spanish this semester and he had been writing all of his love declaring notes in a language I could not read. Until this time I had never been concerned about the fact that I couldn't read them, but I did feel bad that I forgot to tell him that I had dropped my spanish class.
I fumbled through every apology I could muster and tried to convince him that I really didn't know he was in love with me and that I was truly sorry. He didn't buy a single word and left me alone in the hallway.
Next came the notification that my super fun prom date had proposed to my second cousin and that they were really getting married after graduation. What could be more awkward than going to prom with your second cousin's fiance? I decided it was time to let him off the hook and take his fiancee instead of me. He gratefully accepted my suggestion.
So even if my sophomore friend would never take me to prom since I unintentionally broke his heart and even if my date got engaged to someone else, I will still get asked to prom right?!?! How could I not get asked to prom?!?!?!?!
Disclaimer: No hearts were broken in the making of this dream and I am way too old to get asked to prom.
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Coldstone Classic
So there I was at a party in California. I ran into my friend Eric (we'll call him Eric because that is actually his name and no other name would accurately portray his awesome role in said account). He told me that we had to go get ice cream. I said we should definitely do that sometime. He said, "No, we need to go right now." I finally consented and he said, "We're going to Coldstone. Don't worry I've got coupons so I've got you covered." From said comment I determined that our friendly ice cream run was now a date.
We arrived at Coldstone and stood in line for a long time. I soon discovered that Coldstone had really hit a rut in the recession. In order to combat the recession Coldstone started a program where customers could bring in flavors of their own making to donate to Coldstone. Genius! Well, when Eric and I got up to the counter, the Coldstone employee asked which flavor(s) we would like to try. I noticed that one of the flavors was called 'Berry Applesauce'. Eric insisted that I try it. Sure enough, 'Berry Applesauce' was applesauce combined with raspberries and then frozen. I thought the sample was disgusting, but I smiled and nodded my head instead. (After all, I was on a date.)
About this time, two men in sunglasses and dark suits and ties with American flags on their lapels walked into Coldstone. They glanced in my direction and approached me immediately. "Miss, you must come with us." they said. "Me?" I said in disbelief. "Yes, you." We are with the FBI and you must come back to headquarters with us for questioning.
We headed to headquarters on foot. Along the way I asked what I had possibly done wrong for the FBI to question me. "We can't even speak of the things you've done" they told me.
"I am pretty sure you have the wrong girl. What did I do?" I asked.
"You are a traitor to your country. We know that you have ties to [insert name of terrorist organization here]." they responded.
"Terrorists? I don't think so. You've got the wrong girl" I said.
"No we don't. We saw you go to the drinking fountain TWICE before getting any ice cream tonight. Everyone knows that the universal signal to [insert said name of terrorist organization here]."
About this time, we were approaching the building. All of the sudden, Eric came running up the sidewalk and opened the door to the building for us. "Thanks for getting my door." I said.
"It's the least that I could do for you." he answered.
Once inside the building, the agents lead me toward the interrogation room for questioning. While in the adjoining room, I could see the lead interrogator. She was a very feisty agent and she was tearing apart a group of college aged individuals in the room. At that moment she saw me through the glass and motioned for the agents to bring me in. "You!" she said and pointed her finger in my direction. "I can't even speak of the things you have done! You are a disgrace to your country, the very dirtiest kind of traitor. You are despicable and I cannot even stand to look at you!"
"I'm sorry mam, but I still have no idea what I did to become such a traitor." I responded.
"You went to the drinking fountain TWICE before getting any ice cream!" she bellowed.
"Yeah, about that. I still don't understand how that is a signal to the terrorists?" I asked.
"Why else would you possibly need to get two drinks of water before having any ice cream, unless you were trying to signal the enemy?" She countered.
"Well I was with a boy and I was very nervous and...I was trying to impress him." I said sheepishly.
"Say no more. You may go." She said and everyone in the room started to laugh.
I exited the building and found Eric sitting on the curb. He ran up to me, "They let you go! What happened? Are you alright?"
"They asked for an explanation. I said one sentence. They all laughed at me and then they let me go." I said. In my head I was thinking, "Please don't ask what the one sentence was...please don't ask what the one sentence was." And then he didn't ask.
"Well," he said, "We still need to get ice cream." So we went to find ice cream although Coldstone was entirely different than the first location we went to. After getting ice cream we decided to take a drive. We ended up in the foothills where we ran into my sister who was running on foot.
"You see that trail that leads from those houses up there down to the valley over there?" she said.
"Yes." I answered. "Well, that's where those Poteet girls run every morning, but I just don't know how they get down there." she added.
"See that spot where the trail connects right here?" I pointed out. "Ohhhhh. I see." she said.
Disclaimer: Coldstone has not asked customers to donate flavors in order to stay in business (at least to my knowledge). I do not give signals to terrorist organizations and all events depicted here are from my actual dream. Except the part about Eric being awesome. That part is true.
We arrived at Coldstone and stood in line for a long time. I soon discovered that Coldstone had really hit a rut in the recession. In order to combat the recession Coldstone started a program where customers could bring in flavors of their own making to donate to Coldstone. Genius! Well, when Eric and I got up to the counter, the Coldstone employee asked which flavor(s) we would like to try. I noticed that one of the flavors was called 'Berry Applesauce'. Eric insisted that I try it. Sure enough, 'Berry Applesauce' was applesauce combined with raspberries and then frozen. I thought the sample was disgusting, but I smiled and nodded my head instead. (After all, I was on a date.)
About this time, two men in sunglasses and dark suits and ties with American flags on their lapels walked into Coldstone. They glanced in my direction and approached me immediately. "Miss, you must come with us." they said. "Me?" I said in disbelief. "Yes, you." We are with the FBI and you must come back to headquarters with us for questioning.
We headed to headquarters on foot. Along the way I asked what I had possibly done wrong for the FBI to question me. "We can't even speak of the things you've done" they told me.
"I am pretty sure you have the wrong girl. What did I do?" I asked.
"You are a traitor to your country. We know that you have ties to [insert name of terrorist organization here]." they responded.
"Terrorists? I don't think so. You've got the wrong girl" I said.
"No we don't. We saw you go to the drinking fountain TWICE before getting any ice cream tonight. Everyone knows that the universal signal to [insert said name of terrorist organization here]."
About this time, we were approaching the building. All of the sudden, Eric came running up the sidewalk and opened the door to the building for us. "Thanks for getting my door." I said.
"It's the least that I could do for you." he answered.
Once inside the building, the agents lead me toward the interrogation room for questioning. While in the adjoining room, I could see the lead interrogator. She was a very feisty agent and she was tearing apart a group of college aged individuals in the room. At that moment she saw me through the glass and motioned for the agents to bring me in. "You!" she said and pointed her finger in my direction. "I can't even speak of the things you have done! You are a disgrace to your country, the very dirtiest kind of traitor. You are despicable and I cannot even stand to look at you!"
"I'm sorry mam, but I still have no idea what I did to become such a traitor." I responded.
"You went to the drinking fountain TWICE before getting any ice cream!" she bellowed.
"Yeah, about that. I still don't understand how that is a signal to the terrorists?" I asked.
"Why else would you possibly need to get two drinks of water before having any ice cream, unless you were trying to signal the enemy?" She countered.
"Well I was with a boy and I was very nervous and...I was trying to impress him." I said sheepishly.
"Say no more. You may go." She said and everyone in the room started to laugh.
I exited the building and found Eric sitting on the curb. He ran up to me, "They let you go! What happened? Are you alright?"
"They asked for an explanation. I said one sentence. They all laughed at me and then they let me go." I said. In my head I was thinking, "Please don't ask what the one sentence was...please don't ask what the one sentence was." And then he didn't ask.
"Well," he said, "We still need to get ice cream." So we went to find ice cream although Coldstone was entirely different than the first location we went to. After getting ice cream we decided to take a drive. We ended up in the foothills where we ran into my sister who was running on foot.
"You see that trail that leads from those houses up there down to the valley over there?" she said.
"Yes." I answered. "Well, that's where those Poteet girls run every morning, but I just don't know how they get down there." she added.
"See that spot where the trail connects right here?" I pointed out. "Ohhhhh. I see." she said.
Disclaimer: Coldstone has not asked customers to donate flavors in order to stay in business (at least to my knowledge). I do not give signals to terrorist organizations and all events depicted here are from my actual dream. Except the part about Eric being awesome. That part is true.
A Very Green Birthday
So it's my friend's birthday and I really wanted to do something special. I spent all week thinking about the perfect homemade card that I could make expressing all of the things that I appreciate about him. Well the actual day of the birthday arrived and I found myself going through old birthday cards that friends and relatives had sent to me years ago. I found one card that was particularly sentimental with flowers and butterflies on the front and flowery prose inside. It was one of those awesome cards that has a poem on the cover, the inside, the back cover, etc. and my relative had handwritten my name on the top of each page. I found myself crossing out my name and writing the name of my friend instead. Keep in mind that his name looked very much out of place on the very feminine card which I knew, but for some reason I felt like recycling this card was the most responsible way to tell said friend Happy Birthday. Just before sealing the envelope, I considered handwriting a note telling him all of the things that I appreciate about him as an insert in the card, but ultimately decided that I could not compete with the poetry already expressed.
Disclaimer: This entire account represents a dream. I have never recycled a birthday card and I will not be giving said friend a card with butterflies and poetry on the front for his actual birthday.
Disclaimer: This entire account represents a dream. I have never recycled a birthday card and I will not be giving said friend a card with butterflies and poetry on the front for his actual birthday.
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