My dream

I am going to start this posts the same way I start my conversations--with one or two disclaimers. First, I think it is ridiculous to post about dreams. This one was just too hilarious, though. Second, I really don't think I am repressed.

Chapter 1: I dreamed last night that I was a repressed Victorian woman, who somehow got mixed up with a crew of goat herders in a basement who were protecting their goats from people shooting through the ceiling at them.

I emerged alive, but not the same.

Chapter 2: Fast forward one year (as is so easy to do in dreams and movies):

I had begun to break free of my mother's rule and had my own herd of mountain goats.

I saw this picture on a blog the day before. Goats=metaphor for "living on the edge?"

As I was out tending them, I ran into a gang of motocross nomads (yep). One guy managed to miraculously save one of my goats, thus winning my heart. I became best buddies with the nomads.

Chapter 3: One of the nomads had a younger sister. She loved motocross with all her heart, but there is just no room for women in the nomad motocross world. I was talking to her, and I had an epiphany: I would learn how, and then we could compete against each other! The world would have to take note of two woman competing. It was brilliant.

Then I woke up.