Aggg!!! I haven't blogged in forever! I'm usually much better than this, but with finals looming I've fallen behind on pretty much everything. (Just take a look at the floor of my room....you'll probably faint.) But I feel like a fun post this evening, or morning, I guess, 'cause it's past midnight, so I thought I'd share a spectacularly weird, semi-writing-related dream I had a couple nights ago.
Once upon a time, Kate decided to go on a writer's retreat with her critique partners and other writerly friends (all female, mind you). They wrote and ate food and had a party on the last night, a party that involved party activities. Being writers, they decided that pin the tail on the donkey and charades were much too mainstream, so they picked more unique activities. One such activity involved making babies in jars. Like, someone had figured out a way to extract each person's eggs, fertilize them, and put them in a jar, where a baby would grow. Most of Kate's writer friends have lots of children already, so they were like, "No big deal, it's just another baby!" And Kate wanted to be included in the fun, so Kate decided to have twins.
(Are you concerned about Kate's decision-making skills yet? I know I am.)
Anyways, they let the babies grow, and Kate was about eight months into her jar-pregnancy when the realization that OMG THESE ARE GOING TO BE ACTUAL BABIES hit. I guess my dream-self is kind of stupid, because Kate seriously didn't even register the fact that her jar-baby was a real baby and that, therefore, she'd be a real mom. So Kate freaked out, but at that point it was too late and she had twins. One day the jars broke and there they were: a little boy, and a blonde-haired little girl. They looked to be about two years old at birth, so obviously the gestational period for humans growing in jars is slightly different from boring, womb-contained fetuses.
Anyways, Zac Effron was the father, which is completely random since I've never even seen a Zac Effron movie, and then there was some stuff about Harry Potter and zombies, and then Kate was Spencer from Pretty Little Liars for a while, and then she was Taylor Swift, and then she was Hermione, and at the very end there was a liopleurodon, which is a giant aquatic dinosaur, and Kate's babies got sick because apparently they didn't develop normally inside of their jars. At any rate, I'm not sure how the dream ended. I told this all to my roommate last week and she gave me the weirdest look. I wonder why.
Since taking Psych 1010 obviously makes me an expert, I've decided that this dream displays my deep underlying fear of becoming a teenaged mother and the social stigma that goes with it. It also displays my amazing ability to transform into different celebrities at will.
So the moral of this story is, don't make babies at writer's retreats, especially babies in jars. In particular, don't make babies in jars if Kate happens to be there (because she will inevitably want to participate, and it will inevitably take her a good 8-9 month to figure out that a baby is, like, a baby).
This has been your public service announcement for May 2, 2012. Thanks for tuning in.