Resurrection, or How I Learned to Stop Interpreting My Dreams and Marry Sam Winchester

And thus I emerge from blogging hibernation to resurrect this blog, just in time for graduation, summer, and unemployment!

Graduation, you ask? Why, yes, college graduation. I have completed four years of post-secondary education, and have received a fancy piece of paper that tells me all about this accomplishment in Latin. My degree is pretty cool.

Summer, you ask? Well, yes, I live in the northern hemisphere, so one might expect it to be summer here. Although, you wouldn't know it from looking outside. Thanks, June thunderstorms! Even if you aren't conducive to going outside, at least you are pretty conducive to bringing things back to life.

Unemployment, you ask? Sadly, yes, I do not have a job at the moment. I'm waiting to hear back from a few places before I decide it is officially time to drown my sorrows in wine, so hopefully someone will prevent that fate from occurring by hiring me. I'm looking to go into research at the moment, and I know that I'm a well-qualified candidate, but it's convincing everyone else and beating out the competition that makes the whole thing kinda challenging.

And so, while I am looking for employment, and when I am not busy preparing for a future career in medicine, I'll be updating this blog! Isn't that exciting? I'll be talking about all sorts of interesting things, and will likely do a few series on different themes. Right now, I'm looking at one that focuses on random thoughts and cool things I've learned, one that focuses on some of the cool places I've been lucky enough to visit over the past couple years, and one that focuses on book (and maybe movie) reviews. This last one is pretty exciting. For my first book in the series, I'll be taking a look at 50 Shades of Grey, which reads like mediocre fanfiction and yet has sold more copies than all of Ray Bradbury's work did when he was alive. I'm still looking for a snazzy title for this series, or at least for this book in the series, so if anyone has any ideas, leave them in the comments below.

So, random thoughts for the rest of this entry.

I have really weird dreams. And I don't mean surrealist dreams where I fly on the back of a cat through the Dead Sea. I mean dreams where I outrun natural disasters and save the world. Seriously. Let's take a look at last night's dream as an example. Last night, I lived up in Irvine, CA in my dreams, just a short drive away from Disneyland, and managed to stop a gang war. Seriously. In one corner, there were the silly white boys in their baggy clothes that looked like a throwback to late 1999/early 2000. Their leader was none other than Nick Carter, which likely explains the terrible men's fashion flashbacks; he was probably nostalgic for a time when girls ages 12-25 were willing to throw their bras, panties, and themselves at his feet.

Look at him, kneeling there and smiling. You can just tell he's plotting to corrupt today's youth with bad plaid and his older brother's hand-me-downs.

In the other corner, was a group of Latino men, who dressed in baggy black jeans and white t-shirts and shaved their heads. They were led by none other than Weevil from Veronica Mars.

I was definitely rooting for this guy throughout the whole dream. Even though I was supposed to be the objective, logical third party in all this.

I don't think I could have had a more Veronica Mars dream if I'd tried. I don't know what my subconscious was thinking, but it was certainly trying to hit as many blatantly awful stereotypes as possible. To be honest, I don't know how I ended up saving the day. I think I managed to do the impossible and actually talk some logical, reasonable sense into these boys and forced them to set aside their differences through the power of words, but it's hard to remember exactly. Anyway. As I drove from Disneyland back to the high school where this was all going down, I nearly lost control of my car and caused an accident (and there we get the bad-teenage-driver stereotype, even though I'm no longer a teenager in real life). Shaken and not entirely okay, I entered the high school and found my locker to be full of gifts from both parties. Weevil and Mr. Carter magically appeared on either side of me to hug me and thank me and show me the expensive gifts (there was a lot of gold involved) they had gotten from... somewhere. And it was all rainbows and puppies and smiles.

Awwww yeeahhhhhh.

My dream from two nights ago was a whole other type of monster. In it, Something Very Bad was about to happen. Something like the apocalypse. Something that would have ended the world as we know it.

And I feel fine.

These sorts of situations tend to, understandably, throw people's love lives into quite a tizzy. Worried that they might not have much time left on this world together, young lovers (and old lovers, too, let's not be ageist here) decide to do something crazy and get married. No time like the present, right? Duh. And so, this was how I found myself marrying Sam Winchester from the television show Supernatural.

And you know what? I am totally okay with that.

It was a very surprising turn of events, to be honest. I'm pretty certain that just prior to the wedding, I had managed to do some major butt-kicking. Comme toujours. Zombies, ghouls, vampires, does it really matter what I was fighting? The damn apocalypse was still approaching. Anyway, the point is, I had had to do some major butt-kicking to arrive at the safe house where everyone, including Sam Winchester, was waiting. As soon as I arrive, one of the older guys there who is apparently somewhat of a father figure to me pulls me aside and explains that Sam wants to see me. Well, alright. I won't say no.

After all, who could say no to that face?

This is where he proposes. Quite literally. He gives one of those heartfelt end-of-the-world speeches that heroic men in love seem to be so good at, and before I know what's happening, I've been shoved into a wedding dress and am walking down the aisle to meet my future husband, walking past fellow hunters and butt-kickers that I know and love from a surprising variety of TV shows. When I get to the altar, Sam is all smiles and grips my hand tightly, almost as if he's afraid he'll lose me forever if he lets go. The music and my emotions swell, and we are married and we kiss and it is magical.

Dream Sam Winchester looks damn good in a tux. Also, he gives really good hugs.

Also, I have some weird-ass dreams.

Peace, love, and June gloom,
Rachel