<?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-3282209008987795995</id><updated>2011-07-29T03:51:37.549-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My Bizarre Subconscious</title><subtitle type='html'>When I dream, random sequences of events unfold that are sometimes fragmented into little snippets of scenes.  Some of it makes sense, but various scenarios are so outlandish and defies logic of any kind which can be exceptionally funny because of how stupid they are.  Then it dawned on me today, on Sep 25, 2009, that I should maintain a blog of the episodes that my brain unpredictably generate.  And so the blogging begins...</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blongblang.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3282209008987795995/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blongblang.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>blongblang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11096501691739098648</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RBX4uy863uI/Sr05Y-8rtAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sBsfZf3wYHw/S220/20090907_Gameworks_HouseoftheDeadcropped.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>17</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3282209008987795995.post-5166681449951639902</id><published>2010-06-01T07:23:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-01T07:31:24.438-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Tests</title><content type='html'>I just had a dream that I had two written tests to take.  One was definitely a Bible class and the other was I think history.  I didn't study so hard hoping that common sense will take care of most of the answers.  The first question was about a symbol which didn't make sense at all.  The correct answer was Median, but the symbol looked like a spider inside an octagon.  Yeah... weird.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I freaked out, changed seats because I felt cramped since I was sitting way too close to someone else taking the test.  I starting worrying that maybe common sense won't help me much this time.  I looked at my watch, and it said 3:11 realizing I only have 19 minutes left to finish the test.  Next thing I know, I woke up wondering my alarm didn't ring... Apparently, my body clock woke me up 2 minutes prior to schedule.  I'll edit this later and maybe draw and upload the symbol the puzzled me.  It was found on the 2nd page of the book I studied from together with various other symbols... I wish I remembered more of them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3282209008987795995-5166681449951639902?l=blongblang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blongblang.blogspot.com/feeds/5166681449951639902/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blongblang.blogspot.com/2010/06/tests.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3282209008987795995/posts/default/5166681449951639902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3282209008987795995/posts/default/5166681449951639902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blongblang.blogspot.com/2010/06/tests.html' title='Tests'/><author><name>blongblang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11096501691739098648</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RBX4uy863uI/Sr05Y-8rtAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sBsfZf3wYHw/S220/20090907_Gameworks_HouseoftheDeadcropped.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3282209008987795995.post-3592198048219032324</id><published>2009-12-27T08:16:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-27T08:21:20.397-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I need to break this silence</title><content type='html'>I thought this would be easy to maintain.  Clearly, I was wrong.  There's absolutely nothing I can remember worth writing here.  Maybe when I get some crazy dream again this blog will finally be updated.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3282209008987795995-3592198048219032324?l=blongblang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blongblang.blogspot.com/feeds/3592198048219032324/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blongblang.blogspot.com/2009/12/i-need-to-break-this-silence.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3282209008987795995/posts/default/3592198048219032324'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3282209008987795995/posts/default/3592198048219032324'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blongblang.blogspot.com/2009/12/i-need-to-break-this-silence.html' title='I need to break this silence'/><author><name>blongblang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11096501691739098648</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RBX4uy863uI/Sr05Y-8rtAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sBsfZf3wYHw/S220/20090907_Gameworks_HouseoftheDeadcropped.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3282209008987795995.post-5157739913516891713</id><published>2009-11-18T19:51:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-18T22:00:09.238-05:00</updated><title type='text'>ZZZZZZzzzzzzZZZZzzzz</title><content type='html'>My subconscious has been very inactive as of late.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3282209008987795995-5157739913516891713?l=blongblang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blongblang.blogspot.com/feeds/5157739913516891713/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blongblang.blogspot.com/2009/11/zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3282209008987795995/posts/default/5157739913516891713'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3282209008987795995/posts/default/5157739913516891713'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blongblang.blogspot.com/2009/11/zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.html' title='ZZZZZZzzzzzzZZZZzzzz'/><author><name>blongblang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11096501691739098648</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RBX4uy863uI/Sr05Y-8rtAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sBsfZf3wYHw/S220/20090907_Gameworks_HouseoftheDeadcropped.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3282209008987795995.post-1881364394791605139</id><published>2009-11-06T16:58:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-06T17:12:22.766-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Funky Restaurant</title><content type='html'>My dream last night was pretty weird.  A bunch of friends and I went to a restaurant.  There were 8 of us total.  We all sat on a long table side by side.  It's a long thin table so everyone is just sitting one side and nobody on the other side... almost like a bar but it's a table.  We talked about what to buy and someone finally suggested a whole fried chicken.  So I went to the counter and paid for the chicken, with a price tag of 4.99 pounds.  Seriously, it's not dollars or euros but pounds.  I remember thinking, "man, that's freaking expensive!"  Hmmm...  Somehow that was all we ordered because of the cost and we had to split that chicken 9 ways.  Why?  There was a stranger that sat on our table so instead of just us 8, we have to share our food to a total of 9 people.  I felt that everybody didn't have enough to eat so I went to their back room and found some sardines or tuna or some sort of canned fish product.  Going to each person on the table, I gave all 9 of us a portion from the can, which obviously means that each person got less than a spoonful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Interesting dream, huh?  If only I have time to write them when I wake up in the morning, my brain would have retained more details.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3282209008987795995-1881364394791605139?l=blongblang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blongblang.blogspot.com/feeds/1881364394791605139/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blongblang.blogspot.com/2009/11/funky-restaurant.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3282209008987795995/posts/default/1881364394791605139'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3282209008987795995/posts/default/1881364394791605139'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blongblang.blogspot.com/2009/11/funky-restaurant.html' title='Funky Restaurant'/><author><name>blongblang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11096501691739098648</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RBX4uy863uI/Sr05Y-8rtAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sBsfZf3wYHw/S220/20090907_Gameworks_HouseoftheDeadcropped.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3282209008987795995.post-8852310624413812273</id><published>2009-10-29T11:10:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-30T18:08:10.637-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Difficult Test</title><content type='html'>Two nights ago, I dreamed that I was taking a test.  The questions were so beyond my limited pool of knowledge that I felt helpless and pretty much resorted to guessing the answers.  I even tried skipping some questions so I can go back to the ones I skipped later but the next ones were just as difficult to decipher.  I recall even complaining out loud that we didn't even have a reading assignment to do the day before.  Everyone was having a difficult time with the test that the teacher even came by and gave us some freebie answers for a couple questions.  Also, there was this one girl crying loudly and complaining to the teacher while the rest of us continued to complete the test.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, after a while, it occurred to me that I may as well read the instructions again.  Surprise, surprise...  It's one of those tests that requires one to carefully read the instructions before doing anything.  The instructions pretty much said that in each question there are numbers written down within it.  Doh!  All I have to do was to sum up all of them and write the answer down in the end.  No wonder the questions didn't make any sense!  None of us were supposed to know the answers in the first place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was so excited! So excited, in fact, that I had a difficult time adding up the numbers because I wanted to be the first one to finish and at the same time wondering how many people have realized the trickery.  However, I never had the chance to find out how this dream ended because I woke up soon after.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3282209008987795995-8852310624413812273?l=blongblang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blongblang.blogspot.com/feeds/8852310624413812273/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blongblang.blogspot.com/2009/10/difficult-test.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3282209008987795995/posts/default/8852310624413812273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3282209008987795995/posts/default/8852310624413812273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blongblang.blogspot.com/2009/10/difficult-test.html' title='Difficult Test'/><author><name>blongblang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11096501691739098648</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RBX4uy863uI/Sr05Y-8rtAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sBsfZf3wYHw/S220/20090907_Gameworks_HouseoftheDeadcropped.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3282209008987795995.post-6635733782725232020</id><published>2009-10-27T21:02:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-27T21:10:34.020-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What happened to my arm?</title><content type='html'>It has been over a week now and I really have no interesting dreams lately.  That makes me wonder because I remember having more vivid dreams in the past but nothing worth writing about has come up as of recent.  A few nights ago when I was asleep, I looked at my left forearm and noticed it was insanely deformed.  It caught me in shock.  I looked away, blinked, and then stared at my arm again to see if my eyes were playing tricks on me.  Luckily, my arm looked fine after the second glance.  Of course, this is just like a few seconds of dreaming out of several hours of dreams that I fail to remember but for some reason this episode stuck out the most.  I wonder what that means.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3282209008987795995-6635733782725232020?l=blongblang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blongblang.blogspot.com/feeds/6635733782725232020/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blongblang.blogspot.com/2009/10/what-happened-to-my-arm.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3282209008987795995/posts/default/6635733782725232020'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3282209008987795995/posts/default/6635733782725232020'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blongblang.blogspot.com/2009/10/what-happened-to-my-arm.html' title='What happened to my arm?'/><author><name>blongblang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11096501691739098648</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RBX4uy863uI/Sr05Y-8rtAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sBsfZf3wYHw/S220/20090907_Gameworks_HouseoftheDeadcropped.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3282209008987795995.post-1642377123330024849</id><published>2009-10-17T11:23:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-17T11:30:28.310-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Haircut!</title><content type='html'>I remember a dream I had a couple nights ago.  It involved me getting a haircut from a real barber as opposed to just doing it myself like I normally do.  Anyway, he cut my hair just fine except he trimmed the sides of my head and then left a lot of hair on my neckline.  So if you scan my head starting from the top you'll see: Hair... no hair... hair.  I should draw it but I'm too darn lazy.  So I remember walking around with a haircut like that all the while thinking that I need to fix it up but I never get around to doing it.  I'm sure I had other dreams but it has been difficult to remember any of them lately.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3282209008987795995-1642377123330024849?l=blongblang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blongblang.blogspot.com/feeds/1642377123330024849/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blongblang.blogspot.com/2009/10/haircut.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3282209008987795995/posts/default/1642377123330024849'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3282209008987795995/posts/default/1642377123330024849'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blongblang.blogspot.com/2009/10/haircut.html' title='Haircut!'/><author><name>blongblang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11096501691739098648</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RBX4uy863uI/Sr05Y-8rtAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sBsfZf3wYHw/S220/20090907_Gameworks_HouseoftheDeadcropped.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3282209008987795995.post-7594782592063267388</id><published>2009-10-12T20:04:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-12T20:08:18.812-04:00</updated><title type='text'>This sucks!</title><content type='html'>Recently, I'm just listening to other people recall and share their ridiculously random and funny dreams.  My brain's been inactive lately.  Actually, I do remember one small detail but I don't think it is appropriate to write down here.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3282209008987795995-7594782592063267388?l=blongblang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blongblang.blogspot.com/feeds/7594782592063267388/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blongblang.blogspot.com/2009/10/this-sucks.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3282209008987795995/posts/default/7594782592063267388'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3282209008987795995/posts/default/7594782592063267388'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blongblang.blogspot.com/2009/10/this-sucks.html' title='This sucks!'/><author><name>blongblang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11096501691739098648</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RBX4uy863uI/Sr05Y-8rtAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sBsfZf3wYHw/S220/20090907_Gameworks_HouseoftheDeadcropped.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3282209008987795995.post-4032795809158210327</id><published>2009-10-07T09:11:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-07T09:25:25.509-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Two quick dreams</title><content type='html'>First dream... I had to pick up something from my car to give to my mom.  So I drove it a little ways, and parked it in the middle of the highway (the left lane) and not the curb.  I figured it will take just a moment.  After all this, I got distracted and forgot about my car parked in the highway.  When I eventually went back to find my car, it's gone and I had to find out where it was probably towed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My next dream was a friend and I were walking down the side of a road at some secluded section of the city.  I remember wooded areas to our right side and no cars or other people around, except for a tall black man (I'm not racist!) coming from the woods headed towards us.  Then moments later, I saw someone else behind us farther away.  The two of them met up on the side of the road and started walking at a faster pace towards us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then... I woke up!  I think we were about to get mugged.  Lololol.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3282209008987795995-4032795809158210327?l=blongblang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blongblang.blogspot.com/feeds/4032795809158210327/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blongblang.blogspot.com/2009/10/two-quick-dreams.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3282209008987795995/posts/default/4032795809158210327'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3282209008987795995/posts/default/4032795809158210327'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blongblang.blogspot.com/2009/10/two-quick-dreams.html' title='Two quick dreams'/><author><name>blongblang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11096501691739098648</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RBX4uy863uI/Sr05Y-8rtAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sBsfZf3wYHw/S220/20090907_Gameworks_HouseoftheDeadcropped.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3282209008987795995.post-4356024792724934380</id><published>2009-10-04T09:34:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-04T22:04:29.129-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I Can Fly a Plane!?!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RBX4uy863uI/Ssit9W6FNMI/AAAAAAAAACA/ZdTqex09tX4/s1600-h/1155214593.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RBX4uy863uI/Ssit9W6FNMI/AAAAAAAAACA/ZdTqex09tX4/s320/1155214593.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388748223781614786" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I was writing the previous post, details were slowly getting lost of the dream I had during my remaining two hours of sleep from last night.  Bad idea! I should have written this post first.  Oh well.  Here's what I remember:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh man! I don't remember how it began anymore!  Stupid brain cells!  But I am flying a fighter plane as I was recently given a mission to destroy a target but the details haven't been fully disclosed to me yet.  Because my dreams don't make sense, I remember details with me being on foot on land and being on the air inside the plane as I was interacting with various individuals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember asking a friend of mine what to expect when they tell me what target to destroy.  Does my helmet have a computerized system that shows me where to go?  Or do I have to read a map (yes, reading a paper map while flying a plane) or understand where to go if I were given coordinates instead?  That bothered me because I don't think I could pinpoint anything if I were to look at a piece of paper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then realized that I have not been wearing my helmet this entire time, so tried to put it on but my eyeglasses were on the way.  I need to change to contact lenses!  This whole time, I was just hovering above around 30 feet from the ground.  Yes!  A fighter plane that can hover.  My parents were below witnessing all this and told me that my contact lenses are in their room, and that I need to go put them on right now before I get the details of my mission.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I rushed to their room while they "babysit" my plane.  It looks like they rented a place to stay nearby so they can be here for this occasion.  First, I went to an adjacent room that used to have a door connected to the bathroom of their room.  Instead of a door, it was some sort of fake door/wall.  I remembered they recently remodeled some rooms so I have to use their front door instead of using this backdoor shortcut.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt the sense of urgency that my mission could be transmitted to me anytime now and I was not even on my plane yet, knowing that my command center will expect me to be on my way immediately once they let me know.  I'm supposed to be standing by ready awaiting orders.  I found my contact lens case on a round table outside the bathroom.  I opened the case and grabbed the left lens.  It felt heavy!  (It seems like my brain was telling me that heavier = higher prescription... rofl)  I remember thinking that there's no way this is my contact lens.  I fished around some more and found a couple more in the left eye case.  The right eye case was also the same story.  It contained multiple lenses.  What! why would my mom put all of them in one case?  I panicked!  (Meanwhile, in the middle of all this, some kid came out of the bathroom and asked me what I was doing... I just sort of ignored him).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, I opened my eyes.  My body clock woke me up.  I wonder what would have happened next if I remained asleep.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3282209008987795995-4356024792724934380?l=blongblang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blongblang.blogspot.com/feeds/4356024792724934380/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blongblang.blogspot.com/2009/10/i-can-fly-plane.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3282209008987795995/posts/default/4356024792724934380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3282209008987795995/posts/default/4356024792724934380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blongblang.blogspot.com/2009/10/i-can-fly-plane.html' title='I Can Fly a Plane!?!'/><author><name>blongblang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11096501691739098648</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RBX4uy863uI/Sr05Y-8rtAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sBsfZf3wYHw/S220/20090907_Gameworks_HouseoftheDeadcropped.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RBX4uy863uI/Ssit9W6FNMI/AAAAAAAAACA/ZdTqex09tX4/s72-c/1155214593.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3282209008987795995.post-8594649540085702006</id><published>2009-10-04T09:10:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-04T22:02:04.596-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Caffeine Effects? No way...</title><content type='html'>I was watching more TV shows last night when finally, at about 4 am, I could barely stay awake so I called it a night.  I slept like a baby... for 3 hours.  All of a sudden, I found myself awake listening to the gurgling sounds of my stomach and an insatiable need to drink water.  My bedside water bottles to my left were all empty so I hastily grabbed two empty bottles and headed for the kitchen, knowing full well it would be difficult to get back to sleep otherwise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After filling up the bottles using the water ionizer machine in the kitchen, I saw some filipino crunchy banana snack by the sink and immediately felt the munchies.  I had previously just eaten at IHOP with some friends around 1 am so it could not have been hunger but I grabbed two small portions and gobbled them up with pleasure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that I'm back sitting on my bed, I still felt unsatisfied and grabbed a bag of Baked Lays that I scavenged from Focus Weeks and finished that up, too.  During the whole eating process I would internally argue in my head that I should not be eating but at the same time trying to convince myself that at least it's not as bad as fried potato chips.  Lol.  Finally, after loading up myself with ionized water, I laid back down and slept like a baby once again... for 2 hours... hehehe... this time with a vivid dream that I remember that I will write in detail in the next post! Woot!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3282209008987795995-8594649540085702006?l=blongblang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blongblang.blogspot.com/feeds/8594649540085702006/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blongblang.blogspot.com/2009/10/caffeine-effects-no-way.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3282209008987795995/posts/default/8594649540085702006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3282209008987795995/posts/default/8594649540085702006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blongblang.blogspot.com/2009/10/caffeine-effects-no-way.html' title='Caffeine Effects? No way...'/><author><name>blongblang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11096501691739098648</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RBX4uy863uI/Sr05Y-8rtAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sBsfZf3wYHw/S220/20090907_Gameworks_HouseoftheDeadcropped.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3282209008987795995.post-3083073492695875220</id><published>2009-10-01T21:47:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-01T21:54:30.988-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Three Days...</title><content type='html'>Yup... It's been three days since my last post and I've had no memorable dreams.  A coworker of mine did tell me that she remembered her dream last night, however.  Someone accidentally stapled her fingers together with some papers.  Hahaha... That's kinda messed up.  We've been doing a lot of stapling these past two weeks due to Focus Weeks, so it makes sense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, hopefully I get some dreams soon.  And hopefully my calves recover from too much jump roping.  I've been pretty much limping the whole day because they're super sore.  Need to stretch before I do more next time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3282209008987795995-3083073492695875220?l=blongblang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blongblang.blogspot.com/feeds/3083073492695875220/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blongblang.blogspot.com/2009/10/three-days.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3282209008987795995/posts/default/3083073492695875220'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3282209008987795995/posts/default/3083073492695875220'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blongblang.blogspot.com/2009/10/three-days.html' title='Three Days...'/><author><name>blongblang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11096501691739098648</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RBX4uy863uI/Sr05Y-8rtAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sBsfZf3wYHw/S220/20090907_Gameworks_HouseoftheDeadcropped.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3282209008987795995.post-7573690209419290656</id><published>2009-09-28T09:50:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-28T09:55:11.264-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Fire Breathing...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RBX4uy863uI/SsC_0oxfXoI/AAAAAAAAAB4/9Ac9UC5L0Mc/s1600-h/FBD.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RBX4uy863uI/SsC_0oxfXoI/AAAAAAAAAB4/9Ac9UC5L0Mc/s320/FBD.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386516065354210946" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, so today, I remember some parts of my dream.  It is already a little hazy but certain particulars stick out.  It started out with me and some people trying to burn this dragon.  We cornered it and lit fire around it.  What confuses me is how it was so cooperative and did not try to fight us off or fly away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next thing I remember is that the dragon and I started a conversation.  I asked him how old he was.  He said that he was four years old.  (Huh?!? He wasn’t a baby dragon.  He’s a fully grown dragon, and definitely no longer a drake.  Besides, I thought dragons were mostly hundreds of years old… according to folklore, of course.)  Anyway, he told me he was being cooperative because he wanted to die.  I felt sorry for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, there are some other dragons, too, that were much more aggressive and causing havoc around the area.  I offered this dragon an alternative.  I asked him why not help me annihilate the other dragons instead of dying for nothing.  Now that I’m awake, I wonder why he would even help me destroy his own kind.  Nevertheless, he agreed to help me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bahhh… this post is getting too long.  So I’ll quickly touch on the other parts that I remember.  For some reason, I acquired, or rather, inherited a sword from King Thordrassil.  Who is that? I have no clue.  I’m not even sure if I got the name right but I’m positive the name started with a “T” and it was three syllables long.  I don’t remember ever using that sword in my dream, but I do remember showing it off.  (Oh crap! The sword got in my dream probably because of “How I Met Your Mother” once again!  The episode had a scene with Barney holding a sword and posing while being painted by Lily.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also remember me sitting across the dragon while he was being hit on by a lady… why?  I don’t understand why and I’m between smiling and chuckling right now.  The dragon was also sitting down… on a chair… how? Don’t ask.  It didn’t look weird in the dream though.  He looked pretty comfortable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How did the dream end?  My brain cells fail to retain additional information.  Next thing that I remember is I woke up and looked at my alarm clock.  It was 7:11 am.  Whoops! I set my alarm clock wrong.  I’m supposed to be at work by 8 and the drive time is about 40 minutes.  Fortunately, traffic was not as bad as I expected and I ended up only a few minutes late.  Plus I’m writing this right now here at work as the day is starting out rather slow.  Gotta love Focus Weeks!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3282209008987795995-7573690209419290656?l=blongblang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blongblang.blogspot.com/feeds/7573690209419290656/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blongblang.blogspot.com/2009/09/fire-breathing.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3282209008987795995/posts/default/7573690209419290656'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3282209008987795995/posts/default/7573690209419290656'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blongblang.blogspot.com/2009/09/fire-breathing.html' title='Fire Breathing...'/><author><name>blongblang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11096501691739098648</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RBX4uy863uI/Sr05Y-8rtAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sBsfZf3wYHw/S220/20090907_Gameworks_HouseoftheDeadcropped.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_RBX4uy863uI/SsC_0oxfXoI/AAAAAAAAAB4/9Ac9UC5L0Mc/s72-c/FBD.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3282209008987795995.post-454319407032250314</id><published>2009-09-27T09:17:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-27T13:24:32.907-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Forgotten</title><content type='html'>I don't remember my dream last night.  I do know that my first dream was a good one because when I woke up or at least gained partial consciousness during my slumber, I took a mental note to make sure I log it today.  However, it went poof! I have not the slightest clue as to what it was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The consequent dreams may be pretty neutral and uneventful because my memory fails to recall any sort of detail, as well.  I wonder if our brains are wired to remember the really good ones and the really twisted ones, and not if the dream consists of just some standard day to day activity with no illogical components.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3282209008987795995-454319407032250314?l=blongblang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blongblang.blogspot.com/feeds/454319407032250314/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blongblang.blogspot.com/2009/09/forgotten.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3282209008987795995/posts/default/454319407032250314'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3282209008987795995/posts/default/454319407032250314'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blongblang.blogspot.com/2009/09/forgotten.html' title='Forgotten'/><author><name>blongblang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11096501691739098648</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RBX4uy863uI/Sr05Y-8rtAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sBsfZf3wYHw/S220/20090907_Gameworks_HouseoftheDeadcropped.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3282209008987795995.post-2027063626915613050</id><published>2009-09-26T10:08:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-26T10:11:49.493-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Wedding</title><content type='html'>My dream last night wasn't as vivid as some other times.  All I can remember is that there was a wedding and I ate spring rolls.  Other than that, I don't remember anything.  Hahaha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess part of the reason for the dream was that I just watched a wedding episode of "How I Met Your Mother" just the other day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3282209008987795995-2027063626915613050?l=blongblang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blongblang.blogspot.com/feeds/2027063626915613050/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blongblang.blogspot.com/2009/09/wedding.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3282209008987795995/posts/default/2027063626915613050'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3282209008987795995/posts/default/2027063626915613050'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blongblang.blogspot.com/2009/09/wedding.html' title='Wedding'/><author><name>blongblang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11096501691739098648</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RBX4uy863uI/Sr05Y-8rtAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sBsfZf3wYHw/S220/20090907_Gameworks_HouseoftheDeadcropped.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3282209008987795995.post-5201820119567110598</id><published>2009-09-25T19:21:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-28T09:57:35.785-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Something Fishy</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RBX4uy863uI/Sr1QrLZmoPI/AAAAAAAAAA4/2Gs_tE6j_Ys/s1600-h/PL104SUNSET2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 173px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RBX4uy863uI/Sr1QrLZmoPI/AAAAAAAAAA4/2Gs_tE6j_Ys/s320/PL104SUNSET2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385549432129757426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has been almost 12 hours since I woke up this morning but I still remember certain things that I dreamed last night. Somehow it all ties to "fish". And as I have mentioned in my blog description, most of my dreams don't make sense at all and I find myself rolling my eyes and laughing. The following items are what I remember:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I see four or five buckets lined up on my left side. All of them contain several fishes.... about 3, 4, or 5. Of course, I had to gather some of them up figuring that people who came to fish earlier left them here for others to take home. I'm getting free fishes and I didn't even work for it! Why not! I looked to my right and I don't know who, but someone to my right is fishing and he caught a really big fish! I don't remember what happened to that fish. --dream break--&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I see myself holding a plate with raw fish (it looked like a fillet of salmon) and white rice on the side. I think my subconscious thought that was stupid because I don't think I started eating. --dream break--&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I now possess an small gold angelfish that looks like the picture above. It is inside a translucent jug. I felt bad for it because it is confined to a small space so I tried to transfer it to a bigger 5 gallon water container. However, by doing so, it fell on the sink and it got stuck in the drain for sometime and my crazy brain somehow convinced me the fish had hands and it was holding on for dear life. --dream break--&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somehow, I have the fish again. This time, it is inside a plastic bag that I put on the side of my bed. Again, I thought that's not such a good idea for the fish so I lifted up the bag. It was light! The water had drained out. I put the bag upside down to see if it just recently happened and I could still save the fish. I shook the bag several times then it fell on the ground. The fish was already stiff and dry. =(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... my alarm rings!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3282209008987795995-5201820119567110598?l=blongblang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blongblang.blogspot.com/feeds/5201820119567110598/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blongblang.blogspot.com/2009/09/something-fishy_25.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3282209008987795995/posts/default/5201820119567110598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3282209008987795995/posts/default/5201820119567110598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blongblang.blogspot.com/2009/09/something-fishy_25.html' title='Something Fishy'/><author><name>blongblang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11096501691739098648</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RBX4uy863uI/Sr05Y-8rtAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sBsfZf3wYHw/S220/20090907_Gameworks_HouseoftheDeadcropped.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RBX4uy863uI/Sr1QrLZmoPI/AAAAAAAAAA4/2Gs_tE6j_Ys/s72-c/PL104SUNSET2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3282209008987795995.post-8571374351523570592</id><published>2009-09-25T18:25:00.008-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-25T19:21:47.610-04:00</updated><title type='text'>First Post!</title><content type='html'>So... when I woke up this morning.  I had this sudden urge to blog my dreams.  However, since I did not have one yet, I went to work today and went about doing what needs to be done.  But now I'm home finally and I still somewhat have the desire to make one... So, here it is... my first blog and my first post...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3282209008987795995-8571374351523570592?l=blongblang.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blongblang.blogspot.com/feeds/8571374351523570592/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blongblang.blogspot.com/2009/09/something-fishy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3282209008987795995/posts/default/8571374351523570592'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3282209008987795995/posts/default/8571374351523570592'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blongblang.blogspot.com/2009/09/something-fishy.html' title='First Post!'/><author><name>blongblang</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11096501691739098648</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RBX4uy863uI/Sr05Y-8rtAI/AAAAAAAAAAM/sBsfZf3wYHw/S220/20090907_Gameworks_HouseoftheDeadcropped.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
