scott baio is 46 and trying to kill me...

...which is what a dreamt last night.

this past weekend, i was in reno with my school's debate team (called the forensics team for the duration of this post) for the state tournament, because i'm the forensics lackey (bitch) who goes on the out-of-town trips as the extra chaperon.

in my dream, i was back at the tournament, but it was in beverly hills, not reno, and we were staying at a really fancy hotel. i was in my hotel room, when all of a sudden, this guy jumps out of a closet or somewhere and starts trying to kill me with a telephone cord (he was trying to strangle me with it). apparently, this had happened before, because i wasn't surprised that someone was trying to strangle me--however, i was surprised that it was scott baio. i remember thinking to myself, "That's who's been trying to kill me all this time! He must've forgotten to wear a mask this time. I guess he's trying to kill me because he asked me out and I refused him."

Anyway, I escaped, and ran down to the lobby of the fancy hotel and told the person at the desk that scott baio was trying to kill me, but by the time the police got upstairs, he had escaped. I went back to my room, where he tried to kill me again. I beat him up this time, and then carried his unconscious body down to the lobby, and i made sure to hit his head on every corner i went around. I stopped a few times to talk to students and show them his body that i had beaten up and knocked unconscious.

he must have escaped again when i got him downstairs, because later, i was on the bus with the students, he showed up again, still trying to kill me (he's persistent, i'll give him that). this time, I knew i had to jump off the bus, along with everyone else (we were evacuating). I walk to the front of the bus, and the driver has the door cracked a bit. I remember thinking to myself, "wow, this is going to be difficult. i hope i don't fall." I was extra worried about falling because i was wearing four-inch heels, which are hard to walk in, let alone jump from a moving bus.

I jumped out of the bus, which turned out to be the easiest thing ever. I landed easily on my four-inch heels, and started walking with one of my students, who, in my dream, was a journalist interviewing me about my encounters with scott baio. we walked along for a while, then we realized that we really should be walking with some of the guys, in case someone tried to attack us (someone like scott baio).

we found some other students and started walking with them until we found a restaurant to go to, right in the middle of a swanky beverly hills neighborhood. we went inside and it was kind of like a fancy denney's (if such a thing exists) and then i woke up.


why scott baio?

here's a great story about the idiot students at my school:

today, my student aide told me about one of her fellow dance team members: apparently, this girl was standing in front of the mirror and said, out loud, in front of the entire team: "so i don't get how you do one lap dance and all of a sudden you're a slut"

this is what i deal with every day.

i have a dream...

or, to be grammatically correct, i HAD one. and i'm blogging about it just for alison.

alison has this friend tony...well, she actually has two friends named tony: tall tony (or "big" tony) and tatoo tony. i think you can figure out why i call them that.

tatoo tony is a bit of a rock star. he plays bass in the band for rock star karaoke, and he's very cool; like the cool kids in high school movies. i've met him a few times at various karaoke sessions and a party--he's a really nice guy, but very intimidating (see the abovementioned coolness).

in my dream, alison and i were at a party at tony's house. in my dream, i knew that he had a party every tuesday, and he called it "industry tuesday." so alison and i are there, but the house feels like a college appartment (think brown house, manchester alum)--mismatched couches, crappy wallpaper, and a kitchen that hasn't been cleaned since before prince charles grew into his ears...er...bad analogy. but you get what i mean.

we're hanging out at the party, and i decide to get some food. i wander into the kitchen, and there is a card table with food on it. the food for the party consists of baby carrots, tortilla chips, some pieces of montery-jack cheese, and something else random that i can't really remember. these four things are all in the same bowl, but piled in different areas so they're not mixed together. like a relish tray, without the different sections. needless to say, i didn't eat anything in my dream.

i wander back out to the living room and sit down to talk with tony and alison, but then, there are trick-or-treaters at the door (suddenly) but we have no candy. so alison and i walk outside where we have a conversation with one of my old students and a girl i went to college with (alicia south) about what kind of candy to get for the trick-or-treaters. once we've decided (i don't remember our decision) we had to khols to buy candy. because that's where i fulfill all of my candy needs. khols. we get there, but the khols is more like t.j.maxx and my friend caroline from work is working there for a part time job. i remember feeling superior in my dream that she was working at khols and i was working part time at lane bryant. so much more sophisticated.

after that, we headed back to tony's house (without any candy) and when we get there, we have a conversation about how it's a school night and we have to leave by 10. then suddenly it's the next morning, and i get out of bed (my bed, in my bedroom, which has suddenly moved itself to tony's house) and walk downstairs in sweats and a fleece sweatshirt, barefoot, to get some breakfast, alison and tony are down there, and the floor is dirty (wild party), and they tell me that's it's hot outside, and i'm glad that i don't have to wear my fleece sweatshirt ever again, and i express this joy by saying "now i never have to wear this shirt again." but i don't take it off. logic has no place in my dreams.

i think i woke up sometime after that. regardless, i can't remember what happened after that, so it doesn't really matter.

i went and saw The Other Boleyn Girl tonight with alison and our friend amy. amy kept getting frustrated because she's read the book and apparently, the film is quite different (shock). i kept getting frustrated because it's historical fiction, and so there are parts that were historically inaccurate. which is why it's labeled "historical fiction" instead of "historical." issue number 1: eric bana cast as henry. now, eric bana is h-o-t-t hott. there's a scene where he takes his shirt off...alison and i were happy. but he's a fairly dark complexioned man. with dark brown hair. henry VIII was quite fair skinned, and ruddy cheeked, and had strawberry blonde hair. grrr... but eric bana...HOT!

i'm going to go fold my clean underwear (people think i'm weird for folding my underwear, but it fits better in the drawer that way. thanks mom for making me a freak) and go to bed.

funny story: i don't have any lesson plans for tomorrow!