Hello you long shots
You dark horse runners
Hairbrush singers, dashboard drummers
Hello you wild magnolias
Just waiting to bloom
There's a little bit of all that inside of me and you
Thank God even crazy dreams come true
I stood at the bottom of some walls I thought I couldn't climb
I felt like Cinderella at the ball just running out of time
So I know how it feels to be afraid
Think that it's all gonna slip away
Hold on
Here's to you free souls, you firefly chasers
Tree climbers, porch swingers, air guitar players
Here's to you fearless dancers, shaking walls in your bedrooms
There's a lot of wonder left inside of me and you
Thank God even crazy dreams come true
Never let a bad day be enough
To go and talk you in to giving up
Sometimes everybody feels like you
Oh, feels like you, just like you
I've met some go-getters
Some difference makers
Small town heroes, and big chance takers
I've met some young hearts with something to prove
Here's to you long shots
You dark horse runners
Hairbrush singers, and dashboard drummers
Here's to you wild magnolias
Just waiting to bloom
There's a little bit of all that inside of me and you
Thank God even crazy dreams come true
I like this Carrie Underwood song. I know that songwriters purposely write lyrics that everyone will relate to and that admitting "I think Carrie Underwood and I are kindred spirits" simply identifies me as one in the masses of minds being manipulated by pop culture. But, it's true. My dreams are usually a little bit extreme and unreasonable, and people think I am a little bit crazy. And, if I could make a career out of "Hairbrush singing" I would.
But, in all honesty, I am just using Carrie Underwood so that this blog post isn't completely ridiculous and meaningless. Really, I just wanted a reason to write about my actual crazy dreams. I have really really really weird dreams (the kind you have when you are sleeping). Some people dream about things they want to happen, or things that are going to happen. I would settle for things that have the potential to happen in our physical world. Mine are more like an acid trip (or at least what I assume an acid trip would be like).
But, I think my brother Dave misses hearing about them. Dave likes me to describe my bizarre dreams in detail. Start to finish. (By "likes", I definitely mean that he tolerates it, and only because I have done it since I was 5, and thus, we find it funny, simply based on the fact that way too many hours of our lives have been wasted with my detailed descriptions). So anyways, since being in Africa, I have been taking an anti-malarial medication, which has one of the listed side-effects as "bizarre dreams". I felt that my "condition" could be considered a legitimate contraindication to taking the medication; but the doctor didn't concur. So, here goes my Mefloquine-induced rendition of last night's dream (which will probably be of no interest to anyone but Daisy, but I know that he faithfully reads my blog):
Rick, Amanda, Dave, Krissy and I were hiking the trail to the falls at Harrison Park, where we camp every year for Thanksgiving. It started out as a typical thanksgiving day hike, with Aunt Doris and apples and everything, but quickly turned into more like an international walk-a-thon, with participants from numerous different countries walking (for some sort of noble cause, I can only assume) in a setting that I am pretty sure is from the "running" part in Forrest Gump. So, the five of us decide to ditch the old folks, to walk at a faster pace. Soon, we catch up with the rest of the Canadians, all of whom are wearing disgusting red sweatshirts (the kind people wear at Christmas that have appliqued Christmas trees or snowmen on them). For the purposes of the Canadian walk-a-thon team, there were no appliques, but the sweatshirts were still ugly. And everyone was wearing white collared shirts underneath their sweatshirts, which, in my opinion, isn't the most appropriate attire for the said activity, but whatever. We complete the Forrest Gump phase of the race, and enter a forest. In the forest, we start finding bones lying around. The kind archeologists play with (not exactly sure what an archaeologist does....but I am pretty sure bones are involved). The bones get larger and larger and soon we happen upon the pelvis and hip bones of the world's largest woolly mammoth (obviously). Out of nowhere, the guy from "Night at the Museum" appears and tries to steal the very very large mammoth pelvis. Our group, being very devoted archaeological enthusiasts, refuse to hand over our discovery. We fight the ""Night at the Museum" guy, successfully, and carry our treasure to the butterfly conservatory in Niagara Falls. Because, where else would they really need an 8-foot woolly mammoth fossil?
I realize that there may be some technical inaccuracies in this account, but I can't really take responsibility for any of it. It is 100% as it occurred in my head. YOUR WELCOME DAISY!!!!!