These Dreams: Who Believes in Friday the 13th?
Let me begin by apologising to anyone who (still) comes here for the Horror posts. This one isn't about Jason Voorhees at all--and no one is sorrier than I am.
Blogging requires just as much training and discipline as every other extreme sport (LOL!), and it seems I've let myself go too much to jump back to my usual cheddary standard at the blink of a cursor. But it is Friday the 13th today and I do have something to say that is vaguely luck related.
If I were in better shape, this would be a "Twelve Things about Just My Luck" post (or a McFly Monday post)--and the world would be graced with my personal opinion of Lindsay Lohan (and more McFly pop). But I'm just warming up at the moment, so let me just tell you about a crazy I dream I had, which was definitely inspired by a well-known scene from that movie.
This is totally my life!
(Sans cute guy)
This scene comes several days after Lindsay's character loses her good luck to Chris Pine's character. That's why he has a fancy new apartment with his own laundry room and she has to wear his clothes while washing mud, food and paint from hers. And apparently, it's my subconscious mind's favourite part of the film.
A short time ago, the global recession finally came home to my family. Never mind the gory details. Let's just say it has curtailed my baking. No more homemade cookies, cakes or even casseroles.
And that's probably why I dreamed that I was trying to bake honey-mustard chicken in an oven that looked like a front-loading washing machine with an LCD control screen . . . and the inside of the oven suddenly turned into a furnace.
Of course, my first thought (still in the dream) was, "I have a twenty-second window in which to save my chicken!"
Now that I'm awake, I honestly wonder . . . If nearly-cooked chicken were dropped into a big fire, how long would you have before it was completely ruined? Does anyone know? (Note: I don't mind the outside being completely blackened, as long as the inside is still edible.)