(... and more name-dropping than ever in the history of my livejournal.)
The first time it was in my parents' house, of all places, with
mystic_isles000, alosersdream, rpgmaniac666, Anjani, Kiki from high school, and someone who might have been Tori Rhoades at 21. But we couldn't use the blender because my parents were asleep upstairs. And Anjani didn't want to drink with us, not because she's more responsible than the rest of us Kripalu brats, as in real life, but because she'd already got wasted somewhere else with other friends. HA!Last night I dreamed that I moved to Boston to live with
in_parentheses and nacl. Only boiledokra lived there too... for some reason. And the basement of their apartment looked kind of like the basement of Sayles Hall. And we were all going out to get ragingly trashed in Somerville possibly with redbeard, jupiterempath, keenween and other Kappas (I think saidshe was still in the lab, sorry) to wait around for 4 a.m., when we were going to go to the NASA headquarters (in Boston, didn't you know?) to watch some live feed of something or other.In that dream, I actually did still have mono, but was so brain-stupid that I forgot about the exploding-liver situation until I'd already gotten well and toasted. So, due to concerns of my potential death, I didn't go to NASA. Boo. I don't think I died, either, though.
Is this some side-effect I didn't know of for long-term alcohol deprivation? Let's pretend what I'm craving is human contact rather than alcohol itself. Although, seriously, to put in a request to my subconscious, the next time I dream about social interaction, it should end with *sex*? Or, at least, some making out with strangers at a crazy King House party??? I miss that.
In other news, my father is BLASTING opera in the next room. No amount of closed doors can protect me from this. Having been born and bred to classical music, I'm fairly okay with most of it. But this? Sounds like someone is strangling a cat and then singing heroically about it. MAKE IT STOP.
Edited to add: Oh. Apparently the opera I was mocking is, DadQuote: "One of the greatest musical achievements of the nineteenth century!" Later, he is going to sit me down and properly culturally educate me because, apparently, I will be unable to function in adult company without a detailed knowledge of Italian composers. In
-- Little Red, all day I dream about SKYY
