<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9889564</id><updated>2011-04-21T16:49:43.426-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Dreams</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysweetdreamz.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9889564/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysweetdreamz.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10504760139073018332</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>15</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9889564.post-114218636461682993</id><published>2006-03-12T09:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-12T10:00:23.013-08:00</updated><title type='text'>INSANE dream</title><content type='html'>This dream is so insane I had to wake up and turn the computer on right away for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was at this big store with a pet store inside and I remember seeing someone feed a parakeet to a snake and I kept wondering how expensive that could eventually get.  There was a couple birds that I can vividly remember which included this huge pinkish parrot that had a huge crest (the feathers that stand up on it's head).  After viewing a bunch more of the fish and birds that were all mixed into this store, I ended up in some section watching a movie with Drew and his family.  I really remember the part where we had to sit on this board thing that kept moving and surprisingly Drew and his family were being quite nice.  Part way through the movie I get a call from Heather and so I end up at my grandparents house up in Monitor.  The middle bushes that are normally there were gone today and Heather's van was parked there along with a couple other people's cars.  So we did some stuff at my grandparents house, I'm pretty sure there was a party going on.  Anyways, alittle later Heather and I decide to leave and I end up being the person driving back to Wenatchee.  So we're driving down the road and Heather and I are joking around abunch and Heather's sitting there pretending to drive and we are laughing like crazy.  By the time we are out in front of practically where I crashed in real life on the curb, there we see Mr. Schreck in the middle of the street trying to cross.  Now if any of you know, Mr. Schreck was hit by a car in his lifetime already.  He tried to dodge Heather's van but didn't quite make it and as he was running to the right across the road (he was normally trying to make it to the left side), I swerved to the left and still ended up hitting his leg pretty bad and Heather and I are screaming and then before we get stopped, I saw something flying in the air, then we heard a thud and we ran over something.  By this time Heather and I are crying our eyes out and we get out (I see a semi in front of us if that means anything) and run back over to Mr. Schreck.  We carry him into the nearest building which ends up being one of my friends houses that I can't remember at this time.  So he's sitting in this chair and we run up and I hug him crying telling him how sorry I am and then all of a sudden Mr. Schreck turns into the old trombone player Tyler from my freshman year and he is hugging us and we are all crying and he keeps kissing our cheeks. (not sure what that means) But then he seemed fine and then he kept calling my cell phone (it was on vibrate).  So at this house we decided to watch a movie too but my contact fell out (so I thought).  I quickly realize that when I pick up my contact that my lens in my whole eye had popped out along with the iris.  At this point I'm freaking out but Heather told me that happened all the time and Tyler assured me that he's had it happen too, you just pop it back in.  So quickly the one lens turns into both of them falling out and somehow I'm searing on the floor to find them. (you would think I couldn't see anything haha).  So Heather helps me to a bathroom which is really hard to find because there was a party going on in this house and the bathroom is really small on the outside but when I get in it was a little bigger.  Somehow by the time I got in the bathroom the entire area behind my eyes has popped out (the muscles and optic nerve and the muscles behind that completely to the part where the optic chiasm is (near the brain).  It was interesting.  So I had my lens, iris, contacts, and muscles sitting on the bathroom sink, which soon turned into a whole bedroom with a bathroom sink in the middle (with one of those little metal cup things on the side where you drain water or spit or something) and all the time someone kept calling my phone and I couldn't find it to answer it.  The sink counter was real wood and it was about the size of 2 of our sink counters.  Well then, so I figured out that I needed to keep all my eye parts wet or they started to shrivel.  I keep rinsing them, watch little pieces of dirt they were starting to collect and blood go down the drain.  Somehow I can still see... lol.  Heather kept encouraging me to shove it back into my eye and then she left me and after picking up the muscles and was about to shove it back into my head (which was starting to get very difficult) I woke up.  I woke up feeling really strange haha.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9889564-114218636461682993?l=mysweetdreamz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysweetdreamz.blogspot.com/feeds/114218636461682993/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9889564&amp;postID=114218636461682993' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9889564/posts/default/114218636461682993'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9889564/posts/default/114218636461682993'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysweetdreamz.blogspot.com/2006/03/insane-dream.html' title='INSANE dream'/><author><name>Erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10504760139073018332</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9889564.post-110918003366755450</id><published>2005-02-23T09:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-23T09:33:53.666-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mixed up</title><content type='html'>I had this dream where there were like 100 dreams mixed into one and it is very difficult to explain.  There was just so much going on at once.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9889564-110918003366755450?l=mysweetdreamz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysweetdreamz.blogspot.com/feeds/110918003366755450/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9889564&amp;postID=110918003366755450' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9889564/posts/default/110918003366755450'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9889564/posts/default/110918003366755450'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysweetdreamz.blogspot.com/2005/02/mixed-up.html' title='Mixed up'/><author><name>Erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10504760139073018332</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9889564.post-110818711743690051</id><published>2005-02-11T21:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-11T21:45:17.436-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Water</title><content type='html'>I keep having dreams about swimming pools.  If you were wondering, the past two days have been almost identical in that they both involved swimming pools.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9889564-110818711743690051?l=mysweetdreamz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysweetdreamz.blogspot.com/feeds/110818711743690051/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9889564&amp;postID=110818711743690051' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9889564/posts/default/110818711743690051'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9889564/posts/default/110818711743690051'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysweetdreamz.blogspot.com/2005/02/water.html' title='Water'/><author><name>Erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10504760139073018332</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9889564.post-110784026685482474</id><published>2005-02-07T21:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-02-07T21:24:26.853-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sticks and Stones may break your bones...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 255, 51);"&gt;Something about being in my backyard and people throwing this weird stick around in my pool which had the icky cover on it and the stick hit someone.  We counted the splinters that split up in the stick that was in Michael's body.  There were 55 sticks.  Then we threw another stick into the neighbors backyard.  Also, the dream had something to do with a college.  Sorry I haven't updated in awhile... haven't had too many new dreams.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9889564-110784026685482474?l=mysweetdreamz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysweetdreamz.blogspot.com/feeds/110784026685482474/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9889564&amp;postID=110784026685482474' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9889564/posts/default/110784026685482474'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9889564/posts/default/110784026685482474'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysweetdreamz.blogspot.com/2005/02/sticks-and-stones-may-break-your-bones.html' title='Sticks and Stones may break your bones...'/><author><name>Erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10504760139073018332</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9889564.post-110680324095585785</id><published>2005-01-26T20:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-26T21:20:40.956-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cool Dreamz</title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="century gothic"&gt;So the band was going on another trip and we got to this huge hotel thing and everyone was going to their rooms which were somewhat hidden because the ceilings were really high, but the doorways were like circular and you kinda had to crawl into it.  The walls were bright white but there were pink and black pillows inside on the white beds.  We threw all of our stuff down and were like, "we need a shower" so we headed towards the shower and when we crawled through the circle door, there was this gigantic circular room surrounding a huge mofo pool with showers all along the outsides. This place had a ceiling that was so high up, I don't remember seeing it.  The shower room was co-ed and we all needed a shower so we were in our underwear.  All of a sudden, dumb a$$ shawn was like, "lets go swimming" so a bunch of people jump in and the pool is now a lagoon like place.  Btw, we are all still wearing underwear... so I jump in normally (you know, feet first) and Shawn was like, "weak sauce Erica, I expected better from you" you know, the normal idiot that he is.  So I'm like, "lets race" he accepts, I go to start the race and something falls on my head and knocks me to the bottom of the lagoon pool.  Even though I'm at the bottom, I can see above the water and Shawn finally reaches the other side and is like "boo ya" and then turns into a speedboat and drives away.  Then when I come back up, I find a mermaid that has had its lower half sliced open by shawn the speed boat.  So I help her out of the lagoon and she turns into a half human thing where she was almost human except for her ankles... and she still has a very large gash going across both her legs.  So we end up in a Mexican shop and she goes in to get help and Heather comes out telling me about her new car.  She shows it to me and it is very small and blue.  It had fuzzy black seat covers with silver sparkles.  She asked me if I wanted to go inside the shop again and we do, we come out and her car doors are open.  I say to her "You should have locked the car doors" (me normally lol, if you've ever been in the car with me, you probably know what I'm talking about).  We get in and the guy comes back that got in her car to take the car.  We try to drive away and he is shooting at us.  We finally get away and are now in East Wenatchee by Pizza Hut.  We started to drive around on the side streets which turned into what looked like Stehekin in the summer.  Then we got to some zoo place in the wilderness and there is a little tiny castle like museam place that we go into.  All of the animals in this zoo are not caged.  I passed an owl, some deer, a cougar, a bear, some small birds, a raccoon, a chipmonk, and then after passing through the giant ferns, I run into the horniest wolf ever.  This wolf starting to like rape me and then the bear and the deer started to join in.  I ended up kicking them and they finally left me alone.  The lady running the weird museum place apologized and then I remember leaving the place and seeing a bunch of cut down trees.  That's when I don't remember anything else.  All I have to say is that was a really long and graphic dream...&lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9889564-110680324095585785?l=mysweetdreamz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysweetdreamz.blogspot.com/feeds/110680324095585785/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9889564&amp;postID=110680324095585785' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9889564/posts/default/110680324095585785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9889564/posts/default/110680324095585785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysweetdreamz.blogspot.com/2005/01/cool-dreamz.html' title='Cool Dreamz'/><author><name>Erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10504760139073018332</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9889564.post-110654843381518068</id><published>2005-01-23T22:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-23T22:33:53.816-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Without a Paddle</title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="comic sans ms"&gt;It was me and some random people in the pot field scene running from people trying to shoot us, in the field we ran into a lion... and then we got to the other side and were safe there for awhile.  The field was fenced in and we couldn't get out.  Then some weird guy was carrying a Happy Birthday balloon and was going in to save us.  He was wearing mostly black with some weird jacket and he had his hands in the air, to show the shooters that he wasn't going to steal any pot.  His hands were rubbing the pot that was hanging from the top fence ceiling thing and it was really weird then he came to the other side and we were set free.  Very interesting is all I have to say... lol&lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9889564-110654843381518068?l=mysweetdreamz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysweetdreamz.blogspot.com/feeds/110654843381518068/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9889564&amp;postID=110654843381518068' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9889564/posts/default/110654843381518068'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9889564/posts/default/110654843381518068'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysweetdreamz.blogspot.com/2005/01/without-paddle.html' title='Without a Paddle'/><author><name>Erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10504760139073018332</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9889564.post-110635081672418587</id><published>2005-01-21T15:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-21T15:40:16.723-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Friends</title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="papyrus"&gt;I was again super best friends with Kelsey in my dream.  We did a bunch of stuff together like we used to and that's all I rememeber; happy times.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9889564-110635081672418587?l=mysweetdreamz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysweetdreamz.blogspot.com/feeds/110635081672418587/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9889564&amp;postID=110635081672418587' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9889564/posts/default/110635081672418587'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9889564/posts/default/110635081672418587'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysweetdreamz.blogspot.com/2005/01/friends.html' title='Friends'/><author><name>Erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10504760139073018332</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9889564.post-110617895921970301</id><published>2005-01-19T15:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-19T15:55:59.220-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Seasons</title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="bradley hand itc" size="3"&gt;Second time writing this out.... My first dream was in the winter and I had to walk Toby down the parade route in high heeled shoes.  While slipping and sliding down the sidewalk, I passed the court house and a bunch of gangsters started to attack me so I started to run.  I passed a lot of people walking their dogs and it turned into summer down at the park.  After getting downtown, we ended up down by the railroad tracks, but everything was different and we hid behind a concrete wall.  There my shoes almost got stuck in a man hole, then we went in some store/shop thing and I don't remember much after this except that it was smokey and hazy inside it.  Then my next dream, I was at the high school and it was winter still and I was throwing snowballs at Christy's car while she was driving around with her little brother in it and she was yelling at me to stop it, I only had one ski glove on to make the snowballs... Then when she left the "old" parking lot I saw Amelia and Drew under the old trees and I went over there.  Under the tree it was spring but outside it was still winter.  It slowly turned completely into spring after awhile.  I don't remember what we were talking about but everyone was happy.  Then I had another dream and it was how I set the alarm clock 3 hours early and I was all mad at myself then about 2 seconds later in the dream my real alarm clock went off.  That's all for today :). &lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9889564-110617895921970301?l=mysweetdreamz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysweetdreamz.blogspot.com/feeds/110617895921970301/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9889564&amp;postID=110617895921970301' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9889564/posts/default/110617895921970301'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9889564/posts/default/110617895921970301'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysweetdreamz.blogspot.com/2005/01/seasons_19.html' title='Seasons'/><author><name>Erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10504760139073018332</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9889564.post-110556319822421320</id><published>2005-01-12T01:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-12T12:55:47.930-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sadness</title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="comic sans ms" size="2"&gt;I woke up crying because of this dream.  I was stabbing things with a knife.  I somehow stabbed someone I shouldn't have over and over again.  They slowly started to die and then I ended up trying to help them, gave them a basket to throw up in and then went upstairs.  While going upstairs, I ran into some ninjas, and then the person I stabbed starting coming up the stairs.  On the way up on the wall, there were these fishing poles and then poles with weird pencil like points.  I took one to defend myself.  Then it was really sad.  The person I was trying to kill saved me from the ninjas by stopping the knife from hitting me.  I looked over and Justin was in the corner under a table but he was really really small.  Then I woke up crying because of the person that was dying.  It makes me so sad, kinda like how I feel right now.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9889564-110556319822421320?l=mysweetdreamz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysweetdreamz.blogspot.com/feeds/110556319822421320/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9889564&amp;postID=110556319822421320' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9889564/posts/default/110556319822421320'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9889564/posts/default/110556319822421320'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysweetdreamz.blogspot.com/2005/01/sadness.html' title='Sadness'/><author><name>Erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10504760139073018332</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9889564.post-110546259111724912</id><published>2005-01-11T08:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-11T08:56:31.116-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Speech</title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="tempus sans itc"&gt;Can't remember the first dream, something about the YMCA locker room... but I had a dream where I was remembering my dreams... Then I had another one.  It involved doing a speech on the stage.  Brad was up first for a speech and he was messing up the microphone.  Then all of a sudden the whole band was there and we all had to do a speech and I think it was William that couldn't figure out how to walk over to the microphone.  I had to correct him and then the microphone was off of the little lines that are set up for our speeches.  Then there was a little box to stand on, which is weird, and no one could fit their feet on it.  Then I made some weird speech and I don't remember the rest of the dream.  Oh yeah, the first dream also had to do with my work. Anywho, that's all I know for now.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9889564-110546259111724912?l=mysweetdreamz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysweetdreamz.blogspot.com/feeds/110546259111724912/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9889564&amp;postID=110546259111724912' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9889564/posts/default/110546259111724912'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9889564/posts/default/110546259111724912'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysweetdreamz.blogspot.com/2005/01/speech.html' title='Speech'/><author><name>Erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10504760139073018332</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9889564.post-110533370102151004</id><published>2005-01-09T20:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-09T21:08:21.023-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cars</title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="verdana" size="2"&gt; It had to do with driving in the snow. Let me try to remember.  I really need to update this in morning. Something about spinning around in the cars, yeah that's all I remember right now, sorry guys.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9889564-110533370102151004?l=mysweetdreamz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysweetdreamz.blogspot.com/feeds/110533370102151004/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9889564&amp;postID=110533370102151004' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9889564/posts/default/110533370102151004'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9889564/posts/default/110533370102151004'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysweetdreamz.blogspot.com/2005/01/cars.html' title='Cars'/><author><name>Erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10504760139073018332</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9889564.post-110525513666446611</id><published>2005-01-08T23:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-08T23:18:56.663-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Evil Justin</title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="comic sans ms" size="2"&gt;I had some weird dream where Justin was trying to steal me from Stephen and it made me angry because it started to work but I was sad and yesterdays dream was a censored dream lol.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9889564-110525513666446611?l=mysweetdreamz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysweetdreamz.blogspot.com/feeds/110525513666446611/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9889564&amp;postID=110525513666446611' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9889564/posts/default/110525513666446611'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9889564/posts/default/110525513666446611'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysweetdreamz.blogspot.com/2005/01/evil-justin.html' title='Evil Justin'/><author><name>Erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10504760139073018332</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9889564.post-110490508885304063</id><published>2005-01-04T22:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-04T22:04:48.853-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lateness</title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="impact" size="2"&gt;Last night was interesting.&lt;br /&gt;I remember hearing an alarm clock in my dream so I woke half way up in real life and just laid there thinking of weird things like that I actually got up to start getting ready for work this morning.  Turns out I didn't and I woke up at 6:59, just in time to see the alarm clock turn to 7.  So 20 minutes later I was in my car ready to go somehow.  Other than that, I don't remember my dreams.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9889564-110490508885304063?l=mysweetdreamz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysweetdreamz.blogspot.com/feeds/110490508885304063/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9889564&amp;postID=110490508885304063' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9889564/posts/default/110490508885304063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9889564/posts/default/110490508885304063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysweetdreamz.blogspot.com/2005/01/lateness.html' title='Lateness'/><author><name>Erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10504760139073018332</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9889564.post-110477303836249462</id><published>2005-01-03T09:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-03T09:23:58.363-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Parking</title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="tempus sans itc" size="2"&gt;Wow, what a weird dream...&lt;BR&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was something going on at the highschool and I drove up there with my car.  I parked near Kelsey and then we were like, we can get better parking than this! So we kept having contests to see who could get the closest.  I ended up by the auditorium, and she ended up near there but behind some "pillar" which was kinda weird.  Then from there I walked across the street and towards the city pool.  I was carrying Lillian's snowboard into the locker rooms when I remembered no boards were allowed in there.  I set it on a table and went to take a shower.  There was a little kid in a wheelchair in the shower, thing is, the little kid was a boy.  He kept running my toes over.  Then I decided to leave, so I grabbed the snowboard and picked up 2 cockatiels that I somehow got while in the shower that were in some weird cage that you could push around and sit on.  When I got outside, I was wearing my real pajamas and the snowboarding hat that I was wearing before.  Somehow I lost the snowboard at this point.  So I took the new birds out of the cage and one was talking to me about how he couldn't be held because he never was held before, but he seemed to do a pretty good job.  The second bird did very nicely.  Then I put them in their cages and got on top of the cage and used it like a skateboard to get back home.  I got to the crosswalk things at the intersection and kept pushing the wrong button to cross the street.  Then a bunch of people were surrounding me saying they were in a hurry to cross the street, then I knew which one was going to let us cross first.  So if finally changes and I am crossing the street when someone in their car says to someone else in their car, wow, she looks weird because she is wearing shorts but still has a hat on for winter.  So apparently my pajama pants turned into short pajama pants.  So I finally get across the streets and get to where I am about the middle way to my street in front of the highschool.  Then I wake up.  My next dream is going to be censored out of this post lol. Enjoy trying to figure out what my dream means.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9889564-110477303836249462?l=mysweetdreamz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysweetdreamz.blogspot.com/feeds/110477303836249462/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9889564&amp;postID=110477303836249462' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9889564/posts/default/110477303836249462'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9889564/posts/default/110477303836249462'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysweetdreamz.blogspot.com/2005/01/parking.html' title='Parking'/><author><name>Erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10504760139073018332</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9889564.post-110461223634652734</id><published>2005-01-01T13:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-01T12:43:56.346-08:00</updated><title type='text'>New Years Dreams</title><content type='html'>&lt;font face="comic sans ms" size="2"&gt;Today I am starting a blog about my dreams.  Last night dreams:&lt;br /&gt;Dang, I can't remember right now... give me a minute.&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry, but I can't remember today, my dogs woke me up by barking randomly.  I'll try to post later if I remember. &lt;/font&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9889564-110461223634652734?l=mysweetdreamz.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mysweetdreamz.blogspot.com/feeds/110461223634652734/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9889564&amp;postID=110461223634652734' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9889564/posts/default/110461223634652734'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9889564/posts/default/110461223634652734'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mysweetdreamz.blogspot.com/2005/01/new-years-dreams.html' title='New Years Dreams'/><author><name>Erica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10504760139073018332</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
