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There are so many cute baby clothes. I know, I know I'm totally getting ahead of myself, but I'm excited.

SO NOT DEAD IN THE DREAMS! I LIIIIIVE!

Seems tree me is capable of surviving/regrowing so long as you plant a piece of me in some soil, and water it just like any other plant. That means dream me can pretty much survive ANYTHING except for fire. So right now I'm an adorable baby Groot jamming out on the dashboard of Quill's ship to the Jackson 5 (I can see my reflection in the window and it's freaking adorable). Guess music is good for plants after all.

By the flaming grace of my employer and his unwanted opinion of how I need 'more friends,' I'm going to make some kind of attempt for an intro post. Prepare to be awed.

Hi. I'm Megara. Meg for short. I'm here to browse through the drama. It goes hand in hand with social media, so make sure to link me to the extra juicy scandals. Points for the infamous baby daddy/mama dramas and vindictive divorces.

Thanks, internet. You're so swell.

I'm used to having some messed up dreams, but last night's was just...weird. I know dreams can be pretty fucked up, and this one was. Except it wasn't fucked up in the usual sense. I didn't dream about riding a magical unicorn that shoots twizzler flavored lasers.

No, it felt like two hours of non-stop repetitive alternations between total nothingness, and a blinding blue light.

I think at one point I saw the virgin Mary, which makes no sense.