Evening Naps and Bugs Bunny

So, my sleep pattern is all jacked up. I went to bed between 3 and 3:30 this morning, and woke up at 2 this afternoon. I piddled around the house and ran some errands, but by 7, I was ready for a nap. I think there's something wrong with me. I obviously can't go back to sleep now, so here I am, blogging

I've got to work at 10 in the morning, and rather than go to sleep at a semi-decent hour, I'll just be a zombie at work. ^_^

So, during my nap, I had the weirdest dream ever, and I'm going to type all out here before I forget it. It was that good. Have you ever watched a Bugs Bunny cartoon? It'll be involving him. And a cult. And Wal-Mart.

The dream opens with Bugs Bunny in a trenchcoat walking around all sneaky-like. Suddenly, there are TONS of Bugs Bunnies! They start doing all these crazy flips and insane jumps, like skipping three rooftops and crashing through windows. It was like they had some sort of freaky, weird, super strength, and I was one of them. Weird, right?

So all of us Bugs Bunnies meet at Wal-Mart, but not out in the open...well, sort of. We're in one of the little cut-outs at the front of the store where they put clearance items, arcades, and salons, but it's full of shelves and empty of people, save for us. And we're all lounging around talking with each other when the "Big Guy" walks in. He's a normal man, as normal as you can get with a trenchcoat, hat, and mysteriously green hand. I'm not sure whether the green hand was some sort of fungus, disease, or if he was just a really great gardener.

Suddenly, I look around, and we're all back to our normal human selves, in normal human clothes, but I don't recognize anyone. And everyone is freaking out about the guy at the front of the cut-out. He's not dead, but he's close to it. So the plan is the "Big Guy" (whose name, I think, was actually Bugsy O_o) is going to shoot and kill him. Everyone's really excited about it, but I'm confused. I don't know why this guy needs to die, and I have this weird feeling I won't be living long either.

Then someone starts passing out slips of paper with our names printed on them, which we are intended to sign. There are two names per slip. Some girl and I get our slip, and she signs, but I notice my name is spelled all wrong, like Kaityli, or something stupid like that. So I say, "I can't sign this. My name is spelled wrong. This is horrible." And then Bugsy comes up and he says, "What's the problem here?" I continue to protest, "My name is spelled wrong, and I just can't sign it if my name is spelled wrong. I understand I write my name like three different ways, not to mention there's Katelyn, but still, my name is all wrong. I just can't sign it. Can we fix it?" Surprisingly, Bugsy is really understanding and says, "Yea, we'll fix it later." And I agree, "Okay. I'll just sign it later then."

BUT I had no intentions of signing it later. I knew if I signed it, I'd be signing away my life, giving Bugsy permission to kill me. I don't know how I knew this, I just did. So I continue to mill around with my companions but with a heavy heart. I know they're all about to be killed, and I can't do anything about it. I don't know who will out me if I tell, and I don't know who my friends are. So I'm being all dodgy, looking for a way out, and Bugsy's looking at me funny, so I realize I need to be more low key.

Then I recognize someone! It's a guy with whom I graduated, and we were friends in high school. (Keep in mind this is a dream, logic is not prevalent.) My initial thoughts are, "I'm could be about to die, and he is definitely going to die. I need to kiss him." So I walk over to him, reach up to grab his face (because he IS rather tall, even in a dream), and realize I've got bad breath.

And of course there's a sink nearby full of toothpaste and toothbrushes and other hygiene products. I briefly considered shaving my tongue with a razor to remove the plaque, but that seems hazardous, even in a dream, and I don't know which toothbrush is mine, and my conscious germaphobe would not approve of random toothbrush using, so I opt for some toothpaste on my hands, swiping at my plaque-ridden tongue.

Once again, I realize Bugsy is staring at me. I mumble something about bad breath and walk back to my place as the killing of the random guy is supposedly about to commence, although I know he's actually going to kill us. I'm a little disappointed I didn't get to kiss the guy because I couldn't throw caution to the wind and deal with bad breath, but with death imminently around the corner, I decide there are bigger fish to fry.

I check my escape route again. I look at Bugsy. He's talking, but I'm not listening intently like my comrades. He notices me looking out into the Wal-Mart crowd (who somehow don't see us though we're in plain sight). I stare at him with wide eyes. He pulls his gun, aiming at me. I bolt.
I sprint through Wal-Mart, busting through racks of clothes and cards and bleach. I look at my feet; I'm Bugs Bunny again. I hear them chase after me, but I know they're no match for me. I'm too fast. They'll never catch me.

Confident in my ability to run and live, I wake up.

New Haircut!

I got my hair cut today. I like it. My hair was getting long and unmanageable. The week before I leave for school, I'm putting in red highlights. :)

Novel Aspirations

I'm writing a novel. Right now. I just finished the prologue. I'm pretty excited about it. If you ask nicely, I might let you read it.

A Quick Thought

Oh, no June post, how sad. I'm a pathetic blogger.

Anyway:

Why is it that toilet paper is much less absorbent when used to dry your hands than it is when used for its designated purpose?

Discuss.

Graduation

Well, last week I completed a chapter in my life: The High School Chapter. I graduated. Third in my class, mind you. (That was a shameless plug for my accomplishments. ;] ) It was exhilirating. As we walked in to Pomp and Circumstance, I couldn't stop smiling. It sounds ridiculous, and I'm sure I had a stupid looking grin plastered on my face, but I couldn't stop it. I suppose that's my topic: The effect graduation has on people.

While I was happy, nay, THRILLED, to be graduating, many were sad. I never understood that. Why would you be sad to leave the muck-pit that is high school? Albeit, I had some good times there, but really, most of my memories consist of unfair teachers, hard tests, and exhaustion (which I admit may have been my own fault due to procrastination).

Unlike others, I did not associate high school with friends. I spent more time with my friends outside of school than I did in school. I associate high school with the select few teachers I hate, horrible AP exams, last minute research papers, and annoying peers. Maybe I'm just a pessimist.

But we all counted down the days to graduation, didn't we? Weren't we all excited as we could be as it approached? Didn't we complain about how much earlier Tech got out of school than we did and how they graduated before us? But if I knew you all were going to cry at graduation, I would've called you out on for hypocrites back in January.

Maybe you crybabies are associating high school with what I am not: Happiness, friends, dances, and the like.

In all honesty, I thought I would cry at graduation. I thought I would boohoo when I played my final song with the band. I thought, maybe, if the speeches were moving enough, I would cry. (Ha.) I thought I might cry when I began hugging all the friends I would probably never see again afterwards. But I was wrong.

Many emotions coursed through my body when I walked out onto the Convocation Center floor, but sadness was not present. I felt no longing to remain in high school. I was excited that the moment was finally there. I was happy high school was over. I was proud to be third in the class. I was glad my family was there, that they took up a whole row of seating and then some, that they rang cowbells and made a racket when my name was called. I was proud to be a part of the band as we played our graduation song. And finally, I was bewildered by trying to find and say goodbye to everyone after the commencement.

Never, in that whole ordeal, did I feel sad. I did not shed a tear. My eyes did not even water.

You and your friends are not part of high school. High school is part of your life and your friends' lives. Your friends, if they are true, will be around after high school. If they mean enough to you, you'll keep in touch. Friends are no reason to be sad at graduation. Friendship does not end with a commencement ceremony. Friendship ends when you refuse to fuel it.

Graduation should be a happy time, so let it be.

Finally, an update!

Today, technically, my mom and I will be test driving cars. We're going to drive anything that's relatively small, cheap, and gets good gas mileage. I have a feeling we'll probably pick the Kia. Later in the day, I'll be doing my friend Kelsey's hair, as her boyfriend's prom is tomorrow. I hope it turns out okay; I'm a little nervous. I'll probably go into work immediately after that for another wonderfully busy Saturday at that horrible grocery store. There's your update. I'm tired.

Goodnight,
Katie

Tornadoes and Tomatoes

I challenge anyone reading this blog to go to their local grocery store, find the produce cooler, and spend fifteen to twenty minutes in it with about ten other people you don't know, all while trying to control a splitting headache.

'Cause that's what I did tonight. And it sucked. I work at the local Country Mart, and we had tornado warnings in our county. We shut off the doors, made an announcement on the intercom, and headed back to the corner of the store. In my company were two small children, and only one of which cried, surprisingly briefly at that. Also, there were three whiny old women who just wanted to get their groceries and leave and were very dismayed that we refused to check them out while a tornado threatened to ravish the store around us. Other miscellaneous people who wisely chose to keep their mouths shut were also present. We walked back and forth three times to that cooler until the store manager finally deemed it was safe for us to stay up front. No damage to the store, but some nearby trees blew down, as well as a bank sign that I have yet to see.
As you may have guessed, the store died after the storm. (This is not counting the half hour I spent after the storm answering the phone calls of worried parents, concerned relatives, and interested employees, probably hoping the store was blown away so they wouldn't have to come in.) Probably about 5-8 people came in between 7 and 10. And don't tell my boss, but we closed about ten minutes early.
I have refused to do my English homework tonight due to weather. I may regret this decision tomorrow, but hey, I'll deal.

Until tomorrow,
Katie