I hate blogging and also bloggers.

Last night I dreamed that I had to give a report in a huge gym while wearing this white flowy toga nightgown thing about a crazy ghost lady who drifted in and out of trees wearing a white flowy toga nightgown thing. Then they turned off all the lights in the gym and I felt stupid because my poster didn't glow in the dark, but it was okay because there were trees all over the gym with moonlight shining through them so it was kind of bright. The girl next to me sang high-pitched hymns in a loud obnoxious voice. Chris Bennion came around while I lit a candle so he could see my report and copy down everything that was important. A crazy lady came around and told me that she was going to adopt her niece because her parents had been killed by Voldemort, but for some reason she couldn't adopt her nephew. Then I woke up.

The weirdest things I have been in my dreams: Abraham Lincoln. Pregnant with a carrot. A fairy getting rescued by an ogre. Pregnant but a virgin. Tobaggoning. A male African soldier fighting some guerilla battle in front of my house. Able to fly by bouncing really high like a bouncy ball. Making out under a bridge and getting caught by my bishop. Disguised as an Israeli in Palestine after Israel blew up my house.

The end.