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Figures, since my magic has crossed over or manifested or whatever the fuck you want to call it, I haven't had any dreams so I have no fucking idea how to use my magic. I still have no idea how I used it to kill those zombies, but I can feel the magic. I know how it's supposed to work, from the dreams I have had, but can't actually do anything no matter what I do.

It is very interesting, the things you hear while out with your mate who happens to be a different race. I have heard 'jungle fever' enough times to make me more homicidal than usual and also been called a coconut, though I had to look that up on Google to figure out what it meant, besides the tree. We've had others who 'celebrate' us for being 'progressive,' like it really matters to me that he's white and like that has anything to do with our comfort level of eating pizza in our underwear together.

I wonder what people would say if they knew what I really looked like - the brown skin isn't even real anymore. It's just strange to me, the more I dream and see the mixing of alien species. No one in space cares what anyone is.

In space, we have saved the day once again. Though it was not without peril. Yondu-- It's not over yet, but I hope I do not dream for awhile. They are exhausting.

Preparing to move would be a lot easier if random belongings weren't showing up in my room.

So, what is an acceptable time to stay in bed till on a Sunday? Is it unacceptable for me to stay here till tomorrow morning? Because that's a possibility.

The problem with having a hyper-intelligent dog is when he figures out how to open the fridge.

And then teaches the cats the trick.

Next, I expect him to make me an omelette.

I want it. I'll name it Harbinger.