Dreams

Sometimes I have really intense dreams that stress me out. I remember when I was in elementary school, I had a dream that followed the plot of The Wild Thornberries where I was Eliza Thornberry and I failed to rescue an elephant, which was subsequently killed by poachers. I woke up sobbing.

During my accidental not-blogging nap, I had another one of those dreams. It was the kind of dream that, if I were Stephanie Meyer, I would write a novel out of. Which would then make me Nick from New Girl writing Z is for Zombie.  

Instant Classic

Back to the dream: before the dream started, it was opened with some sort of prompt as though I dreamt in a creative writing format. The main idea was that zombies were an analogy for racism a la Night of the Living Dead. Also, they were sentient, like in Warm Bodies. Also, I was a zombie.

So here I am in Zombie High school, only it's a very tolerant place that has been segregated from "humans and zombies", but we haven't been completely isolated from the humans. There's a basketball game coming up human team versus zombie team, and I'm trying to find my zombie boyfriend. Even as a zombie I'm still more successful in the relationship department in this dream. Go me.

My zombie boyfriend (he never had a name) is on the basketball team, so I find him before he goes out there on the court to do the sports that I'm totally knowledgeable about, telling him we need to "talk". We go and sit at a cafeteria table near all the humans, who looked like greasers for some reason but I'm really not going to question that because I'm still a zombie so you know let's give this dream the benefit of the doubt. 

I'm sitting with my zombie boyfriend, who mind you was still pretty handsome despite the fact that my dream rendition of being a zombie means you have some kind of crazy coral like thing growing on your face. I'm telling him how I'm scared about the future, because colleges aren't as cool about zombies as our high school is, so I don't think we really have any type of job security. Also, one day I'll be a mindless zombie with no control over myself, and it will happen sooner than it will for my boyfriend because I'm further along in the zombification process.That felt like an afterthought though, I was definitely  more concerned about job security.

Now I imagine his response was very heartfelt despite the feeling of doubt it left me with, but I can't really remember what he said. One part of that is because it was a dream, so I mean the entire thing wasn't real, but also the weird coral barnacle things growing on him covered his mouth so his entire speech was slurred.

After that things got weird, I ran away to isolate myself from everyone and moved into an abandoned house. Then a talking pig climbed through my window and he was going to teach me about hunting. I don't really know if that would make it into the cut of my novel, but I'll put it out there.

So there's my dream. It was pretty dramatic, especially considering how light-comedy I like to try to keep my life. I've read one-off dreams don't mean anything, it's recurring dreams that you should interpret, but maybe one day I'll look back at this dream and be like "SO THAT'S WHAT THAT MEANT." 

I started writing a post, and then I took a two hour nap.

I can tell this will be a very successful blog.

The First Post (AKA: 'SUP?)

I literally just made this blog about five minutes ago, and I already have three pageviews. I can only imagine these are all other Meghan Coles in the world, trying to see if the domain name is open. To which I say, hello Meghan Cole. Sorry I took your URL.

I've always been told I'm a pretty good storyteller, or I should write a book, or have a TV show. That feels like a lot of effort though, since I can just tell you the story of my life. Also publishing a book sounds really complicated and I can't imagine many people would be interested in reading an entire printed thing about me, like come on what really have I accomplished that garners a book deal. I am pretty convinced that my life does, in fact, play out like a sitcom though. 

So here it is: the master blog of my life. A combination of my favorite stories, maybe some quotes that I've thought were funny, and maybe something like a really cool youtube video that's unrelated to everything else. I welcome you guys to stick around and read it, but forreals you don't have to because I'm pretty sure I'm not as interesting as people like to believe.

Do you sign the ends of blog posts? I'm going to for this one, because it feels like a very official thing to do.

Hugs and Butterfly Kisses,

Meghan