Wow. Just Wow.

Barack Obama. Spam. Surgery. Mucous Plug. Dog License. 'Nuff said.

Explanation: You're probably wondering what on earth these things have to do with each other. In fact, you're probably wondering what a mucous plug is, too. Three months ago, I had no idea what a mucous plug was and frankly, I think I was better off not knowing.

A few nights ago, I happened to wake up to my daughter crying at an odd hour of the night. I couldn't fall back asleep while my wife fed her, so I volunteered to put the baby down while Sarah got some much-needed sleep. Of course, most of that story is unimportant. The important part is that I awoke from a dead sleep, which means that I was smack dab in the middle of a very interesting dream. I got up and walked immediately to my computer, where I wrote the following sentence:

"I just dreamed that in order to get a dog license, Obama required a double surgical procedure to have his mucous plug removed, which involved implanting and then removing Spam from his chest cavity."

In the dream, I needed a dog license and had just learned that I had to undergo the same procedure in order to make it happen. Of course, the only mucous plug I actually know of is A) not in men and B) not in the chest, but that's not important. Plus, I don't know much about surgical Spam implantation, but I'm not really up on leading edge procedures.

I'm not even going to try to analyze this. You can. Enjoy!

Birthdays Today

Happy Birthday to Al Capone and Amy Winehouse!

Source: My subconcious. As far as I know, today is neither of their birthdays.

Explanation: Last night I had a dream where I was in a group headed for a coworker's birthday party. We came to where the party was supposed to be, only to find two large signs, one that said "Amy Winehouse Birthday Party" and one that said "Al Capone Birthday Party". Behind the signs were roads that curved around to the respective party locations. We knew our party was in the same area as the other two, but didn't know which road to pick. At that moment, I woke up very confused.

So, in preparation for election day, I ask you, my loyal readership, to choose the lesser of two evils: Which road do you pick? Al Capone or Amy Winehouse, and why?

My Subconscious Is Getting Smarter

According to my subconscious, there is now a bill that's actually worth 1/8 of $10. Consider yourself warned.

Explanation: So, last night I had a very involved dream. When I woke up immediately afterward, the whole thing was vividly in my head. One part I distinctly remember was receiving change for something, where I was due $18.25 and I received the change entirely in bills. There were $17 in normal denominations and then there was a bill with an "8" on it which represented 1/8 of $10. I have no idea why, but it did. I remember waking up and thinking, "Wow! I never get the math right in my dreams!" Apparently, my subconscious is getting smarter.

Anyway, this morning all I can remember is that I got the math right. This xkcd sums it up:

Another Journey Into Jeremy's Subconscious

When dreaming about rebounding, it is important to not box out one's wife.

Explanation: Every once in a while, I have a sports-related dream. This morning, I dreamed that I was playing in a basketball game, which is interesting, because I've played actual real games of basketball maybe 10 times in the past 10 years. Anyway, my team was heavily favored in the game and as a result, the referees were letting the other team get away with some obvious fouls. At one point, I grabbed a rebound and went back up for the easy shot, only to have a player on the other team wrap his arms around me so I couldn't get my shot off. The referee chose not to call anything, so I opted instead to violently remove the player from my body. Unfortunately, my attempt at a judo-throw somehow crossed mental wires from my subconscious to actual real live motor-control. Next thing I know, I'm wide awake, bolt upright, and about to launch a pillow across the bedroom. Let's just say that my wife was more than a little startled by this.

Special Blog Bonus: xkcd has had a thing or two to say about dreams as well:

Like You Didn't Already Know That My Subconscious Was Scary?

So, I had the "moving out of college" dream for like the thousandth time last night. But THIS TIME we drove through Vegas on the way home, got involved in a shootout at a casino, met Frank Beamer at a restaurant, had our car broken into, and then hung out with a bunch of thugs at a pool without water.

Explanation: Dreams always seem to make more sense when you're having them.

It's been years since I got out of school and yet my subconscious still dwells on one of the following on a regular basis:

1. Moving out of college
   
2. Moving back to college
   
3. Being at college and knowing that there's a class I'm enrolled in, but I don't know where it is.

Last night, I had to move my stuff out of a dorm, but apparently my subconscious was feeling a little more creative than usual.

And the highlight of my dream? I see Frank Beamer, who is having a conversation with someone else while waiting for a table at a restaurant. (If you didn't know, Frank Beamer, pictured left, is the head football coach at Virginia Tech, my alma mater.) I walk by him, pat him on the shoulder and say, "Hi Coach!" Without hesitating, I get a big smile and he says "Hey, Jeremy! Good to see you!" Eight years out of school and he still remembers me! Pretty good memory for a guy who never met me, huh?

Special Blog Bonus: In honor of my subconscious, here's a purple elephant in sneakers: