After a lot of uploading and pretty much completely wiping out my allowance for my Flickr account, all of my pictures from the 221st Bristol parade are online. There was a major miracle while we were there - I didn’t get sunburnt. Well, I did, in two tiny spots where my bra straps were rubbing and a tiny spot in my hairline, but that was it. The $10/bottle sunscreen worked, even if it was nasty as hell to put on. As Eddie described it, it was like spreading peanut butter, it was just that thick. The rain held off until late yesterday, but the heat never let up and the humidity sucked ass. We were at our usual spot along the parade route, where the crowd is usually loud, obnoxious, and buzzed at 10am, so needless to say there was much yelling and cheering and clapping while we were there.

Working on Monday was just as insane as expected. Plenty of idiots, plenty of people wanting their pills, plenty of people not wanting to go ring out their things at the front of the store. Thankfully I’ve got today off to recover from two days of work craziness and one day of parade and sun, so I should be all ready to work tomorrow.

I woke up abruptly very early yesterday morning. I’d been dreaming that we’d moved out of this house, and into one of the ones further down the road that was much bigger inside, allowed pets, and didn’t involve a psycho landlord. In the dream I’d gone for a walk, and Eddie had gone out to get something we needed. When I returned to the house, I went in and started calling for Eddie, letting him know that I was back. I walked through the empty house, asking if he was there. I finally got into the bedroom, and called out, “Ed? You here?” From behind me a voice with a heavy Spanish accent replied, “He’s not here, but we are.” I turned around to find a group of about 4 or 5 dirty, dark-skinned guys advancing towards me. they pushed me onto the bed and tore at my stockings and ripped at my shirt and pulled off my panties. Right as I started to fight them off, kicking and screaming, I woke up. And then, laying there in the dark in that semi-lucid, semi-dreaming state, Eddie reached across and put his hand on my ass in his sleep, and I spazzed out and almost screamed.

I went back to sleep and had another dream, this time that the armory in Bristol was much bigger but also partially submerged. There were people in the parking lot taking pictures of it and cheering because the Pope was on top, wearing the Pope hat, and doing jumping jacks. I took pictures of him, right before he and 4 cardinals did a magnificent swan dive off the roof and into the water, pointy hats and all.

We stayed up late last night. We stayed at Mom’s house until the Pats game was over, watching the game on Nanny’s TV because they can’t get local stations on the dish, and can’t get a clear picture on the big scream without it, but Nanny’s TV gets great reception downstairs. We got home shortly after 11pm and let Pickle out to run around for a couple of hours before going to bed. We managed to actually SNL in its entirety, something we haven’t done in about a year. I had dreams about being stranded with a small group of people on a trio of small, deserted islands, and we made out houses in the trees, ate bananas, and stole gemstones from ancient stone idols.

Completely messed up dreams… I must be getting my period soon; my dreams always end up being more insane and vivid.