I got my feet on the ground and i don't go to sleep to dream...

nothing about that title is true. clearly, i don't have my feet on the ground, and apparently dreaming is all i do when i spend 8 hours on my mattress every night.

Transition into dream sequence. cue fanciful music and a hazy fog that enters the scene.

It started out with me in a kindergarten class, as a student. Apparently I failed kindergarten on a technicality and therefore every other grade i had passed, graduated from, every diploma i've received, etc etc, was null and void. I needed to retake kindergarten. which i was more than happy to do. "Retake Kindergarten? Oh sure! that seems reasonable and fair." And it wasn't like Billy Madison where it was hard for me in any way, shape or form (although i think my teacher may have been miss lippy). Everyday, I went to kindergarten just like the rest of the kids in my class. Until one day, the teacher asked if I had my parents sign my progress report
"Oh, I'm really sorry! I just keep forgetting" i said
"well, Casey. its really important that we know that your parents know how well you're doing." said the teacher.
"Yeah. but i am doing well. i didn't FAIL this class in the first place. so does it really matter?" i said.
"Yes Casey. this is part of the class." she said
"Can i just sign it myself? I'm 25." i said
"No. it needs to be your parents." she said.
"I don't live with my parents. I'm my own legal guardian. i think i should be able to sign it by myself." i said.
"No, Casey. You need to have your parents sign the paper. you're the only one in the class who hasn't gotten it signed yet." she said.
then, dream Casey was really hurt, or embarrassed, and got really defensive and finally broke down and tried leveling with the teacher adult to adult. i said "listen, these kids have it way easier. they live with their parents. their parents probably open their backpacks everyday to see whats in it to talk to their kids about what they did that day at school, like good parents are supposed to do with small children, and sign it and put it back in their backpack without the kids even remembering to ask them to sign it in the first place. I don't have that luxury. I barely even remember to open my backpack when i get home because i NEVER have homework. So i would have to remember about the slip on my own, and somehow, like, FAX it to my parents to have them sign it and have them FAX it to me or the school or whatever. ok? its harder for me. I'm old enough to have a kid in kindergarten, or teach kindergarten. i have a bachelors degree in interdisciplinary arts and humanities from Michigan State University, where i was consistently on the Dean's list. I've been my own legal guardian for 7 years. i should just sign it myself."

good argument, dream casey. only because you didn't graduate from kindergarten when you were 6, you don't really have that bachelors degree, which was the problem in the first place. you did attended classes at MSU for 4 years and get good grades. props to you.

so, then i was in the airport food court, which was apparently the cafeteria for my kindergarten class, looking for a bathroom. Every stall i went into was filthy. Like, over flowing with poo. And i was about 6 months pregnant at this point in the dream. don't worry, it made sense to suddenly be 6 months pregnant. Then i ran into this really cute boy with curly blond hair who worked at the airport as one of those guys directing planes on the ground with all the hand movements and the orange sticks and the headphone things. I was too embarrassed to tell him that i was in kindergarten, so i told him i worked at the sbarro in the food court. (awake Casey thinks this might be more embarrassing). He then told me there was a bathroom at a park down the street. and he walks me to it. We're instantly, madly in love. he keeps me asking me about the baby's daddy. Sadly enough, he's not in the picture. But cute blond airport boy loves me, and will help me in any way he can. a true gentlemen. as we walk to the park, we decide we hate our jobs at the airport and we're gonna run away together. its a beautiful moment. then, i go into the bathroom. but again, poo everywhere. until i find one clean stall but it doesn't have a toilet, but rather a bidet. I decide to squat over it and go number one out my pee-hole (classy lady even in my dreams). as i lift up my dress, a jacket and a blanket falls out revealing to me, and cute blond airport boy who walks in on me squating over the bidet that i'm NOT PREGNANT. I do the right thing and come clean, telling him i didnt' work at sbarro's, but was actually a kindergarten student, and i (apparently) wasn't really pregnant (in my defense i wasn't intentionally lying about that). he's, of course, super understanding (as he's the love of my life) but tells me that he really liked the idea of running away together and starting a family. BAM. deus ex machina. Dream Casey is really 6 months pregnant. We go look at mobile homes next to the park for $1,500 because thats the amount of money that the two of us have together. Turns out you can't get a very nice mobile home for that amount of money. As i'm looking at all theses shitty mobile homes, and pop-up trailers, dream casey is contemplating if this is what she really wants. was she ready to give up her career (as a kindergarten student?). Dream Casey decides even though i hate all of the pop-up trailers we've can afford, and we have no income, and am not sure if i'm really ready to have a baby, that i should see how things play out, because cute blond airport guy is all about this kid. And maybe its a fair trade off to raise a kid in a home where his parents really love each other and did everything they could for the baby even if he's raised dirt poor in a shitty mobile home. then i woke up.

get the fog and music out of your head.

hmmm.... wonder what that could mean in real life. there's a lot of shit going on in that one rather lengthy dream sequence. who knew my subconscious was that-- introspective-- even without a kindergarten education. One thing's for sure. i now know why i never feel rested when i wake up in the morning.

(on a weird personal sad note... usually when i wake up from a dream about being preggo, i am all freaked out about the possibility of being preggo. even when i was 14 and there was absolutely NO way of me actually being preggo. i woke up from this dream a little freaked out that i wasn't preggo. because i'm not. and i'm positive that i'm not. if you wanna know why i'm SO sure that i'm not, ask carrie. she knows the all the dets of unfertilized uterus. but... what if i never get pregnant? what if i'm never in the position to make that decision that i've spent so much time worrying about where i have to decide between an acting career and having a family-- because i'm never a successful actor and i never fall in love?!?!? OH. MY. GOD. sorry. i just passed out from lack of oxygen to my brain. ok. enough weird personal sadness. i'm gonna stay positive. i'm too young to worry about any of that. plus... like its hard to get knocked up. again, just ask Carrie. not because she's pregnant, because neither of us are. as much as roger would like to think that both of us are. always.)

Now. I must give credit where credit is due. Emily is the one who came up with the phrase "number one out my pee-hole." one time she said she had to pee, and my dad got angry and said to my mom "i don't understand why all of our kids talk like sailors." Em said "sorry. i have to go number one out my pee-hole." gotta love her. and my dad for not shooting one of us in our youth.