I had the weirdest dream the other night.

So weird, that I'm blogging from work to tell you about it. Actually, I'm sitting around kind of bored because I have to wait for somebody to fill out some papers so we can close and I'm the only one here with a key. But still - the dream was weird. (Holy garbled sentence, Batman, I'm tired.)

Anyway, here goes:

I was hanging out with my aunt, my sister Nancy, and my mom. My aunt had found this amazing website where you could put in your high school and your year of graduation and see video footage of your class ceremonially entering the reception hall at your prom. Not that that actually happens at the prom.
First we watched my aunt's. It was pretty boring; we laughed at the terrible 80's fashions (my aunt graduated in 1970). There was also footage of everybody hanging out and chatting before they lined up to enter the hall - again, not too much to see.
Then we watched Nancy's. This was even more boring, as she graduated in 1998 so the fashions weren't quite so terrible.

Okay, then we watched my mom's. Class of 1964, so of course the boys and girls were separated before the prom. The girls were all hanging out talking, and they were unbelievably catty and Mean Girls. Not my mom; I hadn't seen her yet. Then all the girls lined up to walk in, and there she is - wearing jeans to the prom.
So the girls walk in and form a line to wait for the boys. The boys came in . . . on rollerskates. In sequined jackets. With all the arm-waving and background music that image conjures up.

All except my mom's date. He is, apparently, some sort of terrorist. He's wielding duct tape and threatening the girl standing next to my mom, while the sequined jackets swirl around him. And here's what is, for me, the weirdest part of the dream:

My mom says, simply, "Fuck."