Welcome to My Mom's Nightmares

I just want you all to know that I am listening to the Iron Man soundtrack on my Pandora radio, and I feel like I need to walk in front of an exploding building--slowly---while taking off sunglasses. Because this soundtrack is HARD.CORE. If I reset my music playlist from Indie rock to epic film scores you'd all be reading this blog like it was some sort of secret code you had to hack. Maybe, just maybe, IT IS.

Moving on as begrudgingly as possible from the topic of awe-inspiring movie soundtracks, let's move on to my favorite topic: MY MOM. I love my mom. She's the silliest redhead out there since that girl on the Wendy's sign. But my mother seems to have problems with me--a lot. Which, I mean, if I looked back on my life when I'm thirty seven, I'm sure I'd have issues with me, too. But I'm still a teenager, and I'm blissfully enjoying my whole "I'm invincible" phase. Point is, is that I was thinking about what I'd be like if my mother ever had a nightmare of me. And I think I've figured it out.

It all starts cheerfully, in my mother's dream. The skies are bright blue, there are vitamins dancing under rainbows, and a big black lady is playing a fiddle in a meadow. My mom would be dancing a mix between the cabbage-patch and the riverdance. THEN! The clouds rumble like a fat guy's stomach and they darken like an old lady's upper lip hair. Lightning strikes, and sets a bunny on fire during the process. I appear, my hair dyed black with green highlights and I'm wearing a shirt with skulls and the horrid words "GUNS AND ROSES" printed on my chest. I have tons of tattoos covering my arms, all of them of horror movie characters. Suddenly, I whip out a phone CHOCK FULL OF RADIOACTIVITY and text! I text and text and text! I also am simultaneously watching Family Guy! I kick a kitten and I donate all my money towards NO CHARITIES! I then eat out the heart of a Cabbage Patch doll, and throw all of it up in my already dirty laundry.

THAT is what my mother has nightmares about. To be honest, I sorta freaked myself out.

Make coffee, not war. Peace!