August 3, 2011 – To Brad or not to Brad!
Today, in a house full of destruction after some kind of party, I was having sex with Brad Pitt. All because I mentioned him just before bed… So there you have it. I could’ve mentioned someone more decent. Though, apart from the usual Clooney and Depp, no one else comes to mind, which is kind of disappointing, because both are already like ancient artifacts… Brad, however, was quite young and fit. The sex with him was pleasant and fulfilling. At some point, we got confused about the condom situation, he said he didn’t have one, and I seemed to be searching for it since I had one, but Brad said, “Don’t you want a kid from a star?!” That dog.
But now I know what size and shape he is. And I can give interviews about it. Of course, only to the media studying our crazy dreams. 😉
August 5, 2011
And what doesn’t one dream about…
…Our three-room apartment, where we lived until I moved out with my father — me, my mom, my dad, and his new wife… I was running around the apartment shouting, “I can’t believe we’re living here again!”
…And the enormous tiger that was sneaking around the windows of the apartment on the sixth floor. Maybe it was a flying tiger. And it wasn’t friendly at all. Because it was very scary that it would break through the window and tear everyone to pieces.
…And a Barbie doll — not quite a brunette, not quite something else. The doll came with a wooden wardrobe and lots of clothes. I couldn’t wait until the doll became mine, so I could sew her even more outfits… This came after I came up with the joke “Anti-Barbie” about myself…
…And the cluttered apartment — not sure if it was the one I live in now or another one. Some people were constantly visiting or touring my apartment, always letting Danka slip out into the street and comfortably curl up along the walls under the windows. I was constantly kicking out the unwanted crowds and herding Danka back inside. At one point, it turned out there were two or even three Danka’s. But I quickly identified the real one and sent the fake Danka’s away.
…And the new apartment I either had just moved into or was about to move into. A two-room place, with one of the bedrooms bathed in light, and vines growing on the ceiling — a dream of a fool to wake up in greenery. The apartment was clearly already inhabited: the wardrobes were filled with clothes, and clumsy additional wardrobes were shoved in, creating chaos. Above the wardrobes, on supposed attic shelves (without doors), stood several old-fashioned TVs, some of which were clearly used to monitor what was happening outside. The biggest TV was actually a TV, and from somewhere out of nowhere, Kurosawa started exploring a directory of free movies that beautifully floated as screensavers on a dark blue background. She suddenly said, “Secret!” pointing to one of the films. I asked her to play the movie, but for some reason, she didn’t.
August 20, 2011
Outside our house (in Moscow, on the fourth floor, with no balcony) appeared three teenagers who clearly wanted to break into our apartment through the window. Specifically, for sex. My mother didn’t interest them, only me. I threatened to throw them off the outer windowsill, but they said they had already made a hole in the glass and were about to get inside. At that moment, something went wrong for them, and they fell to the ground. However, they didn’t break anything, got up, and ran off.
It seemed like everything was over. The problem was only the hole in the window through which the cat might escape. We somehow patched the hole and decided to take turns watching until morning — guarding the cat so it wouldn’t jump out. The cat didn’t seem interested in leaving. My mom sealed the damaged window with paper, and morning came, bringing the night back with the three teenagers reappearing outside. They easily tore through the paper, and I managed to grab one of them by the naughty (hmmm…) part he was poking through the paper. Everyone ended up inside the apartment, and suddenly, they were surprisingly small, proportionally normal teens, but tiny, like babies.
…And just at that moment when I easily gathered them into a pile and kicked them out, I woke up to the sound of the fire alarm, which woke up the whole complex. No fire was found, but the firefighters came and walked through the entire complex. At first, I threw on a bathrobe and, half asleep, went out to see what was happening. People in nicer clothes began to gather in the courtyard: in T-shirts and track pants. I thought, “Am I not a person too?” – and went to dress in a T-shirt and track pants. Who knows what could happen. Maybe we’d be kicked out of the complex, and I wouldn’t even have underwear on. No one knew what really happened…
When I went outside, looking good and dressed, I saw people gathering in the courtyard, some holding animal carriers. I again thought, “What am I, a witch?” and went to grab Danka’s carrier. It was hard to get the carrier, but Danka was nowhere to be found under the bed. Not even the tasty pâté could coax her out. After struggling for a while, I almost caught her, but I lost her, and she crawled deeper under the bed.
I sighed, “Fine, stay there, but I’ll save you,” and went back out to socialize and find out what was going on.
There was a very nice French guy (I think it was a French accent) temporarily staying below me, and our manager Patrick, who was definitely French, sat and rubbed his eye like he was crying. That’s how we all stood there – French Patrick by the pool exit, higher up my very temporary French neighbor, and above him, at the entrance to my apartment…
It turned out someone had triggered the fire alarm, but no smoke was found. However, we had some nice socializing at 3:30 AM. Dalia also enjoyed the chance to chat, since everyone avoids her, and she warned us that she would be crazy tomorrow because she gets crazy when she doesn’t get enough sleep. I told her, “Then go sleep!” and hurried back inside.
Now, I couldn’t find the cat again, who must have hid somewhere in fear. But this time, she’s definitely home, all exits are intact, so she’s somewhere inside. I’ll look for her again, scratch behind her ear, and then go back to sleep.
It’s good that it’s Saturday; if it were Monday, I’d tear everyone apart.
And then, among other things, I dreamt of a wedding and various other fairy tale adventures…
Haha! This would make a good joke to end with. 🙂