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Just got an e-mail from my mother saying that she and Dad have decided not to come for a visit until after the holidays. I am amazingly relieved.

Does anyone else have family they love and respect, yet don't particularly wish to spend time with? If so, any advice on managing them?

Thanks to everyone who came yesterday. I told you it would kick ass.

Now, where's the fucking opt out button for these dreams. Dream me is a dick. No more. And then to top it all off, I woke up with a special surprise. First I killed Lexi, then turned Isobel who is Elena's mom, shit's not cool, I blamed my brother, killed Jeremy, I can't even keep all this shit straight. And I have fucking fangs. Fangs and feelings. I'm not even going to go into what happened with Katherine. FUCKFUCKFUCK. Then there is Elena who I do -

Now me and my best friend Jack Daniels are celebrating.

I've begun dreaming again. I had one out of order. First Scott dies and gets brought back and Kitty gets shot out into space to save Earth from a giant space bullet, then I dreamed of trapping the world's most powerful/second most powerful telepath in my brain and making him face the things he's done. Then I dreamed that I kissed a recently widowed man on his wife's grave and we started a school together. I don't know why that one makes me feel guilty.

All things being equal, I've had worse dreams.

As a tall man (6 ft 7in) I've always had some mild difficulty in certain aspects of my life. I flatter myself that I carry my height well, but still, there are issues. A lifetime of stooping has given rise to some back problems as of late, and I dislike taking medication such as painkillers. Perhaps this makes me something of a hypocrite, being a doctor myself.

Does anyone else have difficulties relating to their height? Just out of mild interest.

I am terrible with these matters, but I am told it is the proper fashion for one to introduce herself to the neighborhood before the new neighbors come knocking. My name is Dr. Halja Död, but I please feel free to call me Helena. I have recently returned to the United States from abroad and have begun to move into the large Gothic Queen Anne in Lake Forest. I do apologize for any noise this process or my dog may cause you. The movers are late in arriving. I do expect this pandemonium to end within a day or two and to have settled in by that time.

As I am new to the neighborhood and the pantry is bare, could anyone recommend a few good restaurants? Additionally, I am also looking for a trustworthy housemate (this house is far too large for me), a good gym and sports clubs, dog parks, and few charities in need to volunteer my medical services in the area. I appreciate your patience and hospitality.

Dear Old Ugly Man Who Tried To Pick Me Up At Lunch Today,

If you start telling me that you're a stock analyst, and then you don't know what I'm talking about when I ask you if you would risk buying a cyclical stock, I am going to laugh at you. And then I will enjoy when you storm out of the restaurant without your faux-Gucci wallet.

For those of you who don't know, a cyclical stock is a stock that's really sensitive to economic twists and turns. Definitely one of those things that if you actually work in the stock market, you'd know.

Some men get so pathetic when they're no longer young.

I'm curious about something. Has anyone ever made a significant life change based on these dreams?

What does one do when family members announce an intention to visit you, and you simply don't want them to come?

My parents intend to fly all the way over from England, just because I told them I'd been in a little street accident. Best not to talk about things like blue monsters with them. They said they won't try to take me home, but, while I may honor them, I do not want them here.

Help?

I guess today's a popular day for dreaming. I had some more of my own, after a couple weeks of blessedly dreamless sleep. More vampires, more death. I wish I didn't have these stupid dreams. I can't believe Damon would do that. I hope Jeremy hasn't gotten that far into the dreams yet.

I don't want to think about that. Instead, let's talk about the trip to Disneyland we'd been planning! Is everyone good to go next weekend? With all the madness that's been happening, I think a trip to Disney would be good for all of us.

Who else dreams of being a vampire? Or is one? I am simply curious. I have not heard of the boy from my dreams, Oskar, arriving, nor my sire, but I could be mistaken.

I thought these nightmares were over, but apparently not. I had one of those stupid vampire dreams again, but in this dream Elena and Jeremy Gilbert killed me--right in front of my brother Klaus. Granted, I was trying to cut off Jeremy's arm and kill Elena.

Then my ghost came back because a witch lifted a veil and me and some other dead vampires and witches tried to avenge our deaths, but we got sent back to the other side.

What I don't like about these dreams is what an asshole I am. I mean I can be a bit of a douche here, but in these dreams I'm just...mean...violent...crazy and even unhinged.

But I'll never forget the look on Nik's face as he saw my body burn up...

It's also weird to see people I consider my friends straight up kill me.

( Cut for language, conversation about war, death, and so that anyone who wants to ignore it can say they did not get it. )

Good day fellow teens.

I'm Wensleydale and I've recently and unexpectedly moved here from England. Seems to me that's the sort of decision a family would deliberate on a bit. However as I'm sure you, as fellow teens, already know, parents are quite useless.

I should note that I'm writing this message under duress. It's been suggested¹ that I, "Make some friends, get a job, do some activities, lose your virginity², something," and it's with this in mind that I introduce myself to you now. This is not, as you may have already supposed, a suggestion. They're withholding my car until I comply. Which I bought, mind, and had to sell before we moved, but there's no reason I shouldn't get a new one once I've passed the driving exam.

So I'm thinking that I'll play along for as long as necessary, and then after a year I'll have earned the ability to move back home or somewhere that is - on principle - not here.

If there's anyone reading this that's approximately aged 16-18 and would like to hang out³, or could tell me more about this place, or knows a business that is hiring, I would mildly appreciate your assistance.

---

①: by useless parents, mentioned above.
②: Don't concern yourselves with this bit.
③: or whatever.

I will protect you all if it kills me.


These blue things you're seeing are called Husks. They're dangerous, they're deadly, they have no emotion, no feeling and no individuality left.

If you're reading this message than you're probably a dreamer.

If you're not a fighter, run. If you are, don't feel any remorse when you defend yourselves. You're doing them a favor.

After all was said and done, I needed a day or two to rest. Now that I'm feeling a little less like I'll sleep forever and eat everything in sight, I should say hello again. Seeing as the Dreams have deigned to age me up, yet again, and I look rather different.

This is going to make life a little annoying.

Nonetheless, hello, all! Meet your new and improved Nate Summers!

General question. Say you wanna get something really nice for a lady who already has a lot of nice shit, an' who's classy an' sassy.

What would you get?

Not that I believe these dreams are more than power of suggestion gone horribly wrong, but I really should have figured.

For the record, I was not born in 1840. I am not a Southern Boy who says Yes, Ma'am, and I don't have cravings for blood. It might have felt real, but it's not. Now fighting in the Civil War was an interesting twist. I suppose I should thank my head for a short period of sanity.

Rebekah, I clearly think you jinxed me with this nightmare nonsense. I dreamt that I lived with you, Elijah and Nik in the early 1900's. We were...vampires. Nick and I were fighting over something. Something stupid...you and Elijah were trying to defuse the situation and calm us both down, but it wasn't working. Anyway...we were fighting...and he pulls out this dagger and jams it into my heart and stuffs me in a coffin....and then...I wake up.

Seriously sis, can you not jinx me with your creepy voodoo dreams? It seemed so real...

I've never used the Internet for more than occasional e-mails to my grandchildren, but apparently this board is where new arrivals to Orange County should be, according to my grandchildren, in order to socialize. Why people can't socialize face to face anymore is beyond me. Some of you may know my grandchildren; Loras and Margaery Tyrell. I am Olenna Tyrell and have recently moved out here from Sweden to keep an eye on them. I'm currently staying with them and their three monsters for a few days.

It was nice to see a sunrise, even for a little while. But I suppose being very strong and fast is more useful in the long run.

And Papa? I am still mad at you, for the record.

Paff? Paff!
PAFF!PAFF!PAFF!PAFF!PAFF!PAFF!PAFF!PAFF!PAFF!PAFF!PAFF!PAFF!PAFF!PAFF!PAFF!PAFF!PAFF!PAFF!PAFF!PAFF!



PAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAF!

Well, hello there, everyone.

I'm confused. My cards ain't workin' - I can't charge no magic.

But at the same time, I can see! No more stupid color blind, no more ugly eyes. I hate the eyes.

Anybody else havin' problemes like this?

Okay, someone needs to tell the Northwood guys that soccer is not a collision sport. Everytime we play them, I end up getting injured. It was the knee last time, the ankle the game before that and now I have half a shin less than I started with this morning. It's going to get to the point where the ER nurses expect me whenever Creekside play Northwood. I thought the point of playing friendlies was that you didn't have to win at all costs - costs like flooring the other team's striker and leaving him in a pool of his own blood.

Another school... Sometimes I don't know why mom and dad bother. It doesn't matter what school they send me to. It's just going to be the same thing over and over again! I get enrolled in advanced classes or just in a higher grade and none of the other kids want me there. I'm the super geek, or the weird kid, or the little kid. The teachers will talk about how smart I am and want to make me sort of a teacher's pet, but that just makes the other kids hate me even more.

At least back home, I could go to my special school and not have to see Peter there. But dad's decided to send all of us to the high school... together! Why can't I just go to a school by myself again? Valentine's thrilled, but Peter has been furious about it. So while the three of us unpack and get settled into our new rooms, mom and dad are out school hunting to figure out where to enroll us.

I'm really not looking forward to next week Monday. This is going to suck.

Meeting with an architect tomorrow to get to work on designing my new bar. It'll be kind of nice, I know what I want the place to look like, generally, and I won't have that weird step between the storage in the back room and the bar anymore. I'm hoping to get the place open by the fall, because I'll probably go insane if I'm out of work for longer than that.

Wade
On that note, do you ever have jobs that don't involve embarrassing costumes, or is that something special you do for me?

I guess since the excitement of Mother's Day is over now, I can make my formal introductory post to this network. This is so much better than Facebook. I hate all those stupid game invites.

So, how's everyone doing on this fine Monday?

Getting shot sucks. At least it wont take long to heal. Stupid teenaged reflexes. Who robs restaurants anyway, anymore? Don't robbers have more style? Or is there no pride at all? Meh.

Being shot in this life really trumps the memory of being shot in a dream. In a bad way.

Also, hospital food and television programming sucks. I think they want to encourage people to get better by sheer will alone, just to get away from it.

I am pleased to be out and about again. And my papa is in a good mood as well.

... I just wish he and his lady friend would be more quiet. I hear very well. Too well.

After dark, I think I may sneak out.

Well, that was certainly an interesting dream.

Filter: Private

Is this what they mean by those dreams they're always talking about on here. Apparently, I'm something of a villain in mine. I made a vampire kill herself after she did something for me and then I ended up in someone else's body. With Katherine as my prisoner.

Not that I wouldn't be sorely tempted to tie her up and torture her, but still. Weird dream.

Watching Abigail prepare for her first year at university, I can't help but reflect on my own experiences.

I graduated pre-med in France, but it was my graduate studies I remember most fondly. I was nineteen, and was traveling to America for the first time in order to pursue a medical degree at Johns Hopkins. I remember being like a duck in a pond; calm on the surface but paddling furiously under the water.

I see so much of myself in my daughter. She's very mature for her age, but I can tell she's nervous about going off next year. At least she won't be going too far, and I can keep her under my wing a bit longer.

Having a child, I've found, makes me very nostalgic for my own childhood. Has anyone else found the same?

I'm still trying to figure out where Herrick is worse. My dreams or real life. Of course, in my dreams he actually hurts people. He's just as manipulative as in real life, but to my knowledge he hasn't killed anyone in real life.

Last night, I dreamt that it was the sixties and I'd begun to resist my vampire nature. At one point Herrick wanted me kill a girl we'd lured into our car, but I couldn't do it and let her go. I told Herrick that she escaped, but it was obvious he didn't believe me. Sometime later, we killed two girls in a flat and he left me to do the clean up and while I was leaving, the police showed up and I wound up taking this girl, who lived downstairs, hostage. Surprisingly she wasn't afraid of me once she realized that I was more afraid of being found out. Her name was Josie and apparently we dated for sometime after that. She was good for me. She helped me.

It's still strange, dreaming of different time periods. My clothes in some of the dreams have been mad. My hair in 1969 was scary. I'm not looking forward to the eighties.

I know the signs. I know the warnings. I'm disconnecting. Detaching.

I barely feel human most days.

I feel like I'm waiting for something.

Spring always makes me listless.

I just woke up and now I'm sitting in the kitchen. She's sitting here with me, even as I write this. She is talking away, talk-talk-talk and eating all that cigarette smoke. The fat lady squeezed into that kitchen chair with her...cigaretes and her talk. And I want to take a knife to her. I dreamed about so much last night. Was it last night? Just last night? Feels like forever. It feels like I've been dreaming the same dreams forever.

It feels
It feels like my mind is breaking. I was so hungry, in my dreams. I needed to eat, and drink and rip and chew and tear and take millions into me. Millions. Me and my brothers, and my...and my Jude, my Jude Cripp, because he dreams the dream so well. He did horrible things but he dreams so well. He is a son of Babcock.

What was her name? Mother of Babcock? I didn't dream it. I just dreamed her and she's still right here.

I was more than Babcock. But I'm still Babcock. I am Babcock. I am Morrison-Chavez-Baffes-Turrell-Winston-Sosa-Echols-Lambright-Martinez-Reinhardt-Carter. My brothers. Brothers of Babcock.

I don't understand any of this. I just know my dreams are true. I'm not that dumb, I'm not.

I wish she would shut up.

oh god my dreams

i did not think they could get worse

Got a letter from Mother, including a clipping about a study which shows how destructive same-sex marriage would be to British society. I'm fairly sure it's because Parliament approved a second reading of a bill which would allow it, at least in England.

It seems impossible to honor one's father and mother when they seem so ... ignorant.

I'm Max. I'm sixteen and live in Laguna Beach. My mom would probably tell me not to give out all that information on the internet, but what she doesn't know won't hurt her.

I've been told I'm a little old-fashioned when it comes to computers, but I've just discovered a website called craigslist. In the nick in time, it seems. I just purchased a little hobby for myself and these idle hands.

( 1971 PLYMOUTH ROAD RUNNER ) It needs a little caring and a few new parts, but this will be a monster on the road when I'm finished with it.

Does anyone know for a reliable junkyard that has after-dark hours? Or a garage that deals in parts for older cars?

Happy Easter, everyone. Even if you're not religious, here is a video of jungle cats playing with paper maché eggs at a big cat rescue. It made me smile.

While many people are celebrating Easter today, I'd like to take a moment to remind us of the other recognition deserved today. It's also Cesar Chavez day. Through the principles of non violent opposition, union, and education, Chavez worked to change our world for everyone, particularly workers, and left a legacy and example for us all. His impact upon this nation was great, and his examples of service to the community should be remembered and commemorated.

To this end, tomorrow, the day of observance for the holiday this year, and in the spirit of furthering education and making it available to all, a group from UCLA, and interested others, will be spending it at the East Los Angeles Library branch restoring, and repairing the library system's book mobiles, from 9:30-4:00. You're welcome to join us at any time, or call with questions here: (XXX-XXXX) .

If anybody knows what they're doing when it comes to mechanical work, we'd love to have you come by and lend a hand!

Hello. My manager Ursule suggested I join this network. Professionally, I am known as Tina. I am a model, and I just came to this country from France to work in Los Angeles.

I never left France before, so I am both excited and nervous. If anyone can suggest things to see while I get settled here, that would be wonderful.

Well, it's finally happened. I've gotten old. You're all talking about hitting a nightclub on a Wednesday night, and all I can think of is 'yeah, but I have Duck Dynasty on the DVR.'

Really though, that's a clear choice.

Is it possible to acquire photosensitivity as one ages? I've never heard of it. Maybe I'm just getting migraines or something.

I don't really understand why people have sex. I can conceive why love happens, but sex seems like too much dramatics for an exchange of bodily fluids. Yay. Gross sweaty people. Woo.

I hate people my own age, it's all they talk about. I'm never going to have it, unless someone can convince me otherwise. Which I doubt.

LITTLE YELLOW BOXES I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE NOW!

You're in all caps, that's what you are.

Anyway. I'm sexy again. This is good!

How you doing? Yes you, the ones reading this. No not you, I mean the puppet masters.

You type really loud.

Stop it.

God, I haven't felt this good since that one log with the tacos..

Does anyone dream about being ... not the same gender they are? In the weird dreams that seem to plague us all?

(Edit: Or the same sex. It's ... complicated.)

Had more dreams, and, thankfully, there was no singing.

Just old castles, kings, ghosts and a story about a battle between ye olde Denmark and Norway.

I also find it curious that some of us are afflicted with this singing thing and some of us seem pretty impervious to it all. Strange.

♪ I hear the rapture's coming, they say He'll be here soon
Right now there's demons crawling all around my room
They say He lives within me, they say for me He died
And now I hear His footsteps almost every night ♪

♫ Many times I loved
Many times been bitten
Many times I've gazed
Along the open road.

Many times I've lied
Many times I've listened
Many times I've wondered
How much there is to know.

Many dreams come true
And some have silver linings
I live for my dream
And a pocketful of gold.

Mellow is the man
Who knows what he's been missing
Many many men
Can't see the open road.

Many is a word
That only leaves you guessing
Guessing 'bout a thing
You really ought to know
You really ought to know♫