I have to tell people about my dream because it was just too ridiculous.

First, I was going to stay at my brother's condo in Toronto, but he left before I got off the bus (bus? really?) and I didn't have a key. So I watched the bachelor party going on in the park (they were playing some sort of party circle game with a pink beach ball) and was jealous while I thought of how to get into his condo. Then I had a great idea. I'd just apparate. Yes, I totally did.

Except Jensen and Jared said I was "crazy!" and that I couldn't "do it right here!" because people could see and it would blow our cover as stealthy wizards or whatever the f***. So we went to some abandoned warehouse to do it. Except once we got there, we went downstairs into this beautiful condo - not my brother's - and...

...I was suddenly Brendon Urie (I am not making this up, I swear), and Ryan Ross was PISSED because I was marrying a woman. Because I was gay. OMG, wtf brain? So I (Brendon) told Ryan that I loved her, just not, like, romance love, and that she knew that.


Hello brain. What brand of crazy are you serving today?

So, as we were walking out the door for church today, my mom looks at me and says "You look nice. You look like a boy."

OMG. How is this my life? Wow.

I'll post pictures later so you can judge for yourself if I looked like a boy today. I actually tried doing the whole mirror-photo thing and failed. So mom took the picture for me (laughing at me of course). Then I practiced taking pictures of myself in the mirror because everyone else makes it look so easy. Conclusion? I still fail.

Anyway, I wrote PATD fiction today. OMG. And I don't even know what's happening in my brain. It's like I wake up and my brain says, "we're not making sense today so you might as well get used to it." Then I come up with this.

Tiny Dancer (Or, Like, Something) (G)

I just had a block of fudge in my hand and now I can't find it. Seriously? How does one loose a huge block of fudge without even getting out of the chair?

ETA: I found it. behind my CDs, on my stack of post-its. Why? ahhhhh.