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Dreams are getting interesting again. My man friend who saved my life is plotting with me to take out the old, rich bastard that used me to further the vampire apocalypse.

Wow, I just read that part back and realized just how bizarre these dreams are getting. It'd be nice if I had someone like that guy in real life.

Dinosaur droppings. In case anyone was wondering, they're as dino-sized as one might expect. Not really what I anticipated on a tour of a park guaranteed to be a disaster, but interesting all the same.

I also find it interesting that in these dreams I have three kids - here, I only have one that I know of. It's something to be thankful for as I take headache medicine with my coffee this morning - last night Kelly slammed her bedroom door in my face, yet yelled at me through it for a good twenty or so minutes about how I don't understand her. This is all because, as I can recall, I asked her to take out the trash.

Hormones and mood swings are killer at this age. It's like I need battle gear in my own house.

Downside of running your competition into the ground and absorbing all their assets; work gets boring once you've accomplished it.

Upside; rubbing your fathers face in it. Repeatedly.

I do so love seeing that pinched look on his face, even through a computer screen.

The dilemma of course is, once you've achieved your life's goal exceptionally early, what do you do with yourself?

You ever look at something that happened in your dreams and wonder how it came to that?

So I heard something on the radio the other day, a new study of sorts (it lasted two bloody years!), with the results indicating that over 60% of the women surveyed watch porn and of that percentage, 66% are watching it alone - as in, for their own enjoyment, and don't really care to use it to figure out what their partner likes or wants in bed. Mostly just using it as a 'quick road to orgasm' so I say, good on you, ladies.

Most also tend to view it on their Smartphones which I wasn't so sure about but I guess it leaves one hand free, so there you go.

I'm Isabela. I thought talking about porn was a good way to make a splash. Isn't it always?

This is, surprisingly, not a post about pumpkin spice or Halloween.

I'd call it an introduction. Not a blind one, however - no, I've scrolled back many pages to revel in all this...uniqueness.

Dr. Ian Malcolm, resident Chaotician at your service. I teach a few classes here and there at UCI, and recently moved to the area with my daughter who is a budding Olympic gold gymnast.

But that's only me. What about you? Lots of dream talk. I like it.

Pursuing the news during a slow day and I come across this article regarding a new seating design from Airbus.

My one question is where are people's carry-on items supposed to go?

All the more reason to go back to travel by train in my opinion.

I always thought meeting people on the internet was a bit odd, and I don't see the point with my lack of ability to form a healthy social life, but this skinny little bar manager I know said this was a good thing to dick around on via the mobile while business was slow.

Name's Hawke. I may have served drinks to some of you, but I only remember the ones that actually made the bloody effort to tip me accordingly.

I enjoy long walks on the beach and cuddles. I like to be the little spoon. It makes me feel safe.

My Dreams continue to be beyond twisted. You'd think by now I'd be used to it, but it really kind of puts things in perspective when you kill an innocent girl and your best friend decides to comfort you by telling you that you've killed over two hundred girls by his last count.

Maker, I just want these dreams to end already.

Maker's Breath.

This city is getting worse and worse, I swear. Someone please tell me they've seen a blood mage running about causing mischief? None of my normal informants seem to be working.

Kissing girls. Not so bad.

Honestly, Ms. Skeeter should have informed me earlier that I'd had a threesome. Then I could have managed to try to arrange and actually have one. Her report is like getting a hangover without getting to have all the drinks for it.

Dammit Roy.

I liked it better when he wasn't legally allowed to run away. Anybody want to make some cash tracking down a possibly psychotic idiot?

( Filtered to 'Hawke' (all of them--Merrill wasn't as specific as she meant to be) )

I'm thinking of getting a pet.

Everything is wonderful and nothing hurts.

I love EVERYTHING!

Except Kirkwall.

There is a small army of furry balls in my office.

Should I even bother calling animal control?

I have a headache.

And a good sized knot on my head.

I think I spent most of yesterday passed out.

I spent most of the day deciding that the floor was the best place to be.

And being glad I haven't got much furniture.

I think I broke someone's nose last night. Possibly more than one nose. Or possibly loosened some teeth, judging from the state of my knuckles.

They also hit back, judging from my face and other bruises.

I had the worst hangover earlier.

I suppose I should announce that I'm a member of the legion of people in...unexpected circumstances.

So. I have a job. Working for Garret! I'm like a secretary.

MARY MOTHER OF GOD I FINALLY GOT TO TAKE A SHOWER TODAY AND IT WAS FUCKING GLORIOUS.

I don't care if you had sex while eating a cheeseburger on the back of a fucking unicorn, you could not possibly feel better than I do right fucking now.

Well my life has gotten weird, lately. I can't go into details but it's gotten dangerous sports club exciting, at least in a semi-professional nature.

On a personal front I'm babysitting my girlfriend's ten year old twin siblings.

Don't tell her, but I'm letting them play Diablo III with me.