When you believe in things that you don't understand
Well, this is what happens when I eat orange food for dinner (Hawaiian Punch, Pizza, and Ruffles Cheddar & Sour Cream Chips. Not even kidding. I'm an adult!).
It also didn't help that I stayed up until 4 in the morning watching The Innocents for Movies Alaina's Never Seen.
When I finally got to sleep, I had weird dreams, man. At one point I was part of Indiana Jones's archaelogical party? Like, I had a leather jacket and my hair was tied back and I had a hat, and I was walking through caves and bringing things out because apparently there was going to be an earthquake? And once everything was out of the cave the earth started to shake, and the entire team was standing on the edge of the canyon -- which may have been the Grand Canyon, only because I remember there was a glass window-type-thing so we wouldn't fall into the ravine. Also, it was tinier than what I imagine the Grand Canyon to be.
Anyway, the entire team was standing on the edge of the canyon, holding hands and praying that the earthquake doesn't damage everything -- which is weird, because I don't pray in real life --, and there are a couple of shakes, but nothing like the 8.4 we were expecting.
I head back to the trailer -- because of course archaeologists have trailers -- and I seem to think there was something between me and Indy, but there was another, Ilsa-like bitch on the team.
Then I end up driving to an office, and there's a hallway with a few rooms. I go into a room on the left, and there are a couple of bookshelves. There's apparently a room off of that one where a journalist works. I hear two women talking on the other side of the room. The (male) journalist comes out of his office, bitching about being right in the middle of the two women. He asks me what my thoughts on womens's issues are. And I give a very cogent answer, about how the biggest issue aroumd feminism at the moment (aside from birth control rights) is the idea that women are expected to maintain a level of femininity outside of the boardroom and slough it off like a second skin when working in business. How are women supposed to balance that? And there were a couple more sentences, and the journalist had to go back to work and report on other stories.
I go to the bookshelves, and I'm looking for something. I pick up books - and there are stupid romances in between the Laurie R. King series, and there are anthologies and other things, and I'm looking through different books, trying to find a certain scene. I feel that the scene I'm looking for has some level of importance, but I'm not sure what the scene's about.
And then I wake up. And I vow to never eat orange food again. Unless it's actual oranges.
It also didn't help that I stayed up until 4 in the morning watching The Innocents for Movies Alaina's Never Seen.
When I finally got to sleep, I had weird dreams, man. At one point I was part of Indiana Jones's archaelogical party? Like, I had a leather jacket and my hair was tied back and I had a hat, and I was walking through caves and bringing things out because apparently there was going to be an earthquake? And once everything was out of the cave the earth started to shake, and the entire team was standing on the edge of the canyon -- which may have been the Grand Canyon, only because I remember there was a glass window-type-thing so we wouldn't fall into the ravine. Also, it was tinier than what I imagine the Grand Canyon to be.
Anyway, the entire team was standing on the edge of the canyon, holding hands and praying that the earthquake doesn't damage everything -- which is weird, because I don't pray in real life --, and there are a couple of shakes, but nothing like the 8.4 we were expecting.
I head back to the trailer -- because of course archaeologists have trailers -- and I seem to think there was something between me and Indy, but there was another, Ilsa-like bitch on the team.
Then I end up driving to an office, and there's a hallway with a few rooms. I go into a room on the left, and there are a couple of bookshelves. There's apparently a room off of that one where a journalist works. I hear two women talking on the other side of the room. The (male) journalist comes out of his office, bitching about being right in the middle of the two women. He asks me what my thoughts on womens's issues are. And I give a very cogent answer, about how the biggest issue aroumd feminism at the moment (aside from birth control rights) is the idea that women are expected to maintain a level of femininity outside of the boardroom and slough it off like a second skin when working in business. How are women supposed to balance that? And there were a couple more sentences, and the journalist had to go back to work and report on other stories.
I go to the bookshelves, and I'm looking for something. I pick up books - and there are stupid romances in between the Laurie R. King series, and there are anthologies and other things, and I'm looking through different books, trying to find a certain scene. I feel that the scene I'm looking for has some level of importance, but I'm not sure what the scene's about.
And then I wake up. And I vow to never eat orange food again. Unless it's actual oranges.