It's not a cry you can hear at night, it's not somebody who's seen the light...

So last night I had a slasher dream. Considering how much I love slasher movies, one might think I embraced the chance to have a new one all up in my head that I didn't even need to pay admission for. Not necessarily so. I would like to take this opportunity to tell you how much arse I kicked by thinking on my feet.

It started off that I was crawling through a tunnel (lol no) while exploring NYC with Eva Amurri (Susan Sarandon's daughter. Why? Don't ask me) and the killer got into the other end of the tunnel and crawled towards us so we had to crawl super fast to get away. Most of the rest of the dream took place in an office building we were partying in because why not party after being chased by a masked killer, amirite? And then he tracked us down OH NOES. It was basically me trying to avoid the cliche masked baddie by doing awesome things and then watching lots of people die because I wasn't awesome enough to save everyone, alas. But I actually scoured the building we were all trapped in (it was a Halloween party and we were all in costumes) for things to help me survive like a video game heroine, bitches. I found a knife and a gun and apparently a holster to carry them in (yeah, I don't know...) and like ninja throwing stars I totally used, and well.

Then I was in the elevator with some other scared people and the thing stalled. The door opened between floors and the killer was on the bottom floor with a chainsaw he somehow scrounged up in this office building we were partying in. He jammed the thing into the opening and chainsawed away while the others screamed. I risked my flesh to jam the stop button so it wouldn't inch down any further towards the waiting killer and then I got us all out the top of the elevator and up to the floor above. Why the killer didn't just run up the stairs and head us off, I don't know. But hush, I'm being a heroine here.

Then we were on the first floor (NOT the ground floor, Yanks. One floor above ground) and I found a window near a tree. I tried it and it was unlocked so I ushered the people I was with out the window and then shimmied down the tree myself so I could call the cops on ze killer. They arrived and then I realised it MUST be a TRAP because the window wouldn't be left open on accident. I don't even know how this killer was going to somehow take out like dozens of police officers but if Michael Meyers taught us anything in Halloween 2, it's that no matter how many people he was up against, he still just slashed right through them and kept on going. So I made the police go into the party, via the window, dressed in Halloween costumes and roughed up a little bit so they would look like partygoers and take the killer by surprise. Again, not sure how that was supposed to work, but HUSH BECAUSE I SAVED THE DAY.

They police took him out and then all the survivors who had been at the party signed up for the police force except me. I became an informant. And the moral of the story (besides how awesome I totally am) is that all you need to do to join the police force is be totally ineffective against a masked killer and yet be lucky enough to survive anyway.

In reality I am much less ninja-throwing-star wielding and more annoyed that my arse hurts. Because of my exercise bike, people. Sheesh.

I have a virus. YAY, A VIRUS OF MY VERY OWN! :| My doctor (whom I love) said it is most likely gladular fever, but she ordered a test just to make sure it wasn't anything else. She said it could also be a virus that pretty much causes the same thing, so basically I'm screwed either way. I don't care about the definition if the results are the same, but she's doing her doctory thing.

Does it make me weird that I love blood tests? I love them. The nurse asked me how I felt about needles and I assured her I have no problem with them. Then I informed her she wouldn't be able to find a vein in my arm, as I ALWAYS have to do and no one ever takes my word for it. I have always had blood drawn from, and had IVs in my hands. No one has ever found a viable vein in my arm, yet everyone tries (one lady dug around in there for fifteen minutes because she refused to be beat, but she eventually gave up) because apparently it hurts more in the hands? I wouldn't know. I have nothing to compare it to! And frankly a cat scratch hurts more than needles, in my humble opinion.

Anyway she found a vein in my hand and the blood started to go into the tube and I went "OOoooooh!" and she thought it was a sound of distress but I was like "No, I think it's awesome!" because I really do. I like watching it. I might be a freak, but I find it fascinating. So yeah. The highlight of my day was a blood test.

My week is going so awesome, you guys. So awesome that my cat used my head to prop her leg up to lick her arse a while ago. But I have doughnuts, so that's something! Now I'm gonna sleep because omfg.