Aliens!

I'm pretty sure something is trying to dig its way out of my stomach. For the past hour, there's been some weird goings-on down there in the belly region. I suppose it could be muscle spasms, but then these are some pretty spastic muscles.

As long as it's something like an alien (which would make me super cool), or a tapeworm (which would make me super thin), and NOT a child, I'm ok with it.

This is why I'm so unhinged.

I know few things are as tedious as listening to someone else recount one of their dreams, but humor me...

So last night, I dreamt I was back in film school, and we had to get into pairs and film an autopsy. My partner decided he would be camera main, so basically I had to give myself an autopsy. I had to cut myself in certain places to drain the blood out, and then had to pretty much disembowel myself with a big knife. All in graphic detail. And then I was attached to the autopsy table via a metal spike through my left side, but I forgot something on the other side of the room and had to get up to go get it. OW.

I have a feeling this dream was a result of Stan Brakhage's film, The Act of Seeing With One's Own Eyes, being embedded forever in my subconscious. (WATCH AT YOUR OWN RISK!!! DO NOT CLICK IT IF YOU ARE SQUEAMISH!) In this documentary without sound, Stan films several autopsies, up close and personal, with absolutely no details left to the imagination. Several members of my junior film class ran out to vomit. Those of us who made it to the end of the film were all curled up into a fetal position in our chairs.

I have graphically violent dreams quite often, usually dreams in which I am the victim of said horrorshow ultraviolence, but the autopsy theme is new.

So far today, I ate: cereal (75), coffee (5). Must try and make it to dinner with nothing else, as we are going out to eat YET AGAIN. At least tonight we're going somewhere safe, where there isn't much to tempt me.