really, it has been quite boring this week... much slog-work as I hit midterms and not only have to turn in mid-term grades but also syllabi for next quarter.

But I did have a very weird and vivid dream last night.

Everyone in the whole world had turned into zombies that would chew your neck out if they had half a chance, with the sole exception of those in Bville, which had built up baricades and gates all around its perimeter. It was Christmas Eve and I had a dream (within a dream), Cassandra-style, that predicted the future. In this 2nd dream, zombies would make it in around 11:30 of Christmas morning, just before Person X opened their gift, which would be a yo-yo. I told everybody that we were in danger, that I could predict their every action, but they ignored me and celebrated. I convinced a few people to pack their bags, but not to leave.

Right at 11:30, the house I was in was surrounded by zombies, and a few people and I escaped by climbing out a second story window and climbing down a tree before they broke into the house. We were running for the woods, but all of a sudden we realized that the government was in on everything... helicopters started rotating around town, and all the trees were being cut down. People were shot with machine guns, and I started running in an increasingly large group to find any place to hide, which drove us to ¨Baker River¨(in the dream, Bville was along a river in the mountains, not by the sea). By that time, I was with my sister, Peter, and mother.

On the beach, Dad was sprawled out on the sand, relaxing in a white sweater and when we told him we were being invaded and needed to escape, he said, ¨oh, alright¨ in the most nonchalant way you can imagine. Finally, we decided we all needed to jump into the river. We waited for some logs to come, and then started riding the rapids on some tumbling logs, with helicopters rapping behind us, and machine guns spitting at the water near us and zombies swimming after us. Mom was on my left, and Ali was on my right, and we rode....

(drills interrupt)

Next to that, the most interesting thing of the week was Big Tom getting incredibly shnockered, hitting on me (not too badly), and then insisting that we call Duboi, which is in the United Arab Emerites, to talk to a friend of his, for whom he has no number. The conversation was quite amusing as he insisted that calling the UAE information and getting a listing would take no longer than a few minutes. Tom said he didn´t like me anymore when I was teasingly-sarcastic about likelihoods. I was a little more sober than he was...