Finally! A new dream! Although it could've been more pleasant...

I'm in some kind of library shelving books when this guy, I think named Pablo, comes up to me and starts talking to me. This doesn't feel wierd, so I guess I must know him. Then he starts tearing at my clothes and trying to rape me. I run away and find Anthony, who is there for some reason. I tell him what happened, and we go together to beat the crap out of the guy (in the dream, this was entirely realistic. Ask me if it is when I'm awake.)
We encounter Pablo, and he pulls out a gun and shoots me in the heart. I don't die. I don't even bleed. What does happen is that my heart starts to fall out of my chest, along with some other undefined organs.
I think quickly, and remember from first aid class that I'm supposed to put wet, cold cloths on any exposed organs, so I go to get some. They feel cold and good. I'm in no pain, but the heart in my hands feels smooth and squishy. I ask someone to call 911.
About 15 minutes of reorganizing and re-cloth-ing my organs later, I ask about the ambulance - why hasn't it come yet? The woman who placed the call says, oh, here. They haven't sent anyone yet. They want to talk to you.
There is some nonsensical conversation. I wake up.

The strangest thing about all of this is that none of it seems wierd in the slightest. I am not scared at any time in these proceedings. I do not hurt. It feels like any other day.

Amanda says that I should turn Gub the Conqueror into a memoir of sorts. I'm afraid that this will be very boring. You may blame her. Also, it may be episodic at the most. I will write things as they come to me. If they do.

Gub the conqueror returns! The 2 years in which The Gub has left you in suspense were absolutely fantastic. There was action! There was drama! There was lackthereof-that-was-interesting-in-other-ways! As much as I wonder who even still reads this blog (I know I don't,) I know that the interim has been too long for me to provide a suitable, representative post. Therefore, we shall forget that it happened. In the world of Gubtheconqueror, the 13th of April 2005 comes right after the whateverth of something 2003. If yours does not, you are behind the times. I am sorry for any time that you may have wasted in the imagined year of 2004.

I get up and look in the cereal cabinet for breakfast. Only an almost-empty box of oatmeal and.....a variety pack of single-sized Friskies packs for the cat. Who lives here?!

Green is everywhere, accompanying the tunes of pigeons, squirrels, and other mildly exotic Canadian creatures. Chim-chimminy, chim-chimminy, chim, chim-cherrou, half of my house now speaks Chinese and I can't understand them but I smile and nod and at least they're nice even if they don't clean their dishes.
I saw Finding Nemo yesterday. It was adorable, although I'm sure it'd have scared me if I'd seen it at the intended age. There were lobsters with Boston accents, and lots of sweet sight-gags. You should all see it. I'm not sure about one aspect, however. I was pretty sure through the whole movie that Marlin and Dori were going to hook up. Would that have been so bad, or is Disney sending a message against second marriages? Either that or I'm just used to Disney movies being love stories, and the fish was really more interested in finding his son. Anyway, cheers to Disney for their unconventional choice of a platonic relationship bewteeen main characters, and thumbs down to me for expecting less. Speaking of convention, however, can anyone else think of an animated Disney movie in which the main character had a living mother except for the Lion King? At least I think she was alive; it's been a long time. Also, Dumbo doesn't count because those losers locked his mommy up in a shed. (A very traumatic movie experience for the young Gub.) I wonder what Disney would do with an animated story featuring a mother. Those of you with as little to do as I can ponder this. The rest shouldn't be wasting time on my blog ;)

There are sleep elves in my bed. They are fairly small, within the range of 5-10cm, and they have these crazy silk bathrobes in rainbow colors with gold briad. During the day, I sit in class minding my own business, and my phone rings. buzz buzz buzz...I ignore it and hope that no one notices. After class, I check my missed calls. Unavailable. hmmmm....Voicemail says beep beep beep. Agh, sleep elves, must you torment me with your incessant beeping?
I go to the library. I take out my books and start making one of my ever-so-tidy outlines for a midterm, and poof, something has joined me. I feel its presence, although it keeps itself well hidden behind my left ear next to the overtone. The beeping begins, quietly, almost subliminally, so I think I'm either nuts or making it up. Beep, says the beep. Noo! say I. Beeeeeep? Says the beep. Well....say I. Beeep boop beep be(schwa)-beep beep? Says the beep. Well, alright, say I. I lay my head down on the inviting, soft imitation wood finish and I'm gone.
Ha! Says the sleep elf. I've got you now! He jumps out from behind my ear and takes out a paint-roller with essence-of-forget on it. I am helpless; I see him through my eyelids, but am so distracted by his beautiful full lashes and receding hairline that I can't help staring and smiling while he does his foul work. He starts with my hair. Roll, roll, says the roller, down onto my back, relieving tension, breaking my resolve. The lecture may as well have never happened, and the sleep elf tells me that it's okay, who cared in the first place, it's only class, and this is heaven. Sleep, sleep. He dances a makeshift Irish jig and hopes that I don't notice the variations from perfect form, although I wouldn't say anything anyway, he's too enticing.
I wake up. I'm being kicked out again. My teeth hurt. I've been grinding them in my sleep. Damn you, foul sleep elf of doom! It's time to make dinner.

Many toes. 26 April 2003

Latest dream that I can post on a public website:
I decide that I've never given enough thought to my toes, and always just assumed that I had five on each foot per usual. I decide to count. I have, naturally, five toes, so I check the other foot. Six. Hmm. I check the other just to be sure. Wait a minute, I must have miscounted before, there are six here...no, seven. I check the other. I have seven toes, plus a few extra stubs growing on top of the pre-existant toes. Also, this does not seem strange in the slightest.