Well, then. Well, well, well. The world does work in mysterious ways! In a previous entry I told of my sadness at not being able to get tickets for King's Lynn. When the tickets were on sale (or rather, not on sale), someone at work was in King's Lynn, so he went to the Corn Exchange to put me on the reserve list...

The other day, I received a phone call from King's Lynn Corn Exchange. They have tickets for me! So I shall be seeing Morrissey twice. That's TWO WHOLE TIMES. Of course, I'd rather it was twenty, but I should be happy with what I've got. :)

Have been having very disturbing dreams lately. A recent one involved me being a bloke convicted of paedophilia. Exactly.

Another one was fairly interesting- I dreamt that my sister was dead (skiing accident and then mauled by a seal...Must be because of the whole seal culling debate!). No one offered me any support and I was expected to go about my life as normal, attending school and all that. But I was also having problems with my vegan diet. It was making me so weak that I couldn't drag my frail body up the stairs. I went to see a homeopath (who was kind of evil and asked me all sorts of stupid questions), and in the end she said that I wasn't getting enough calcium. To add to this, people at school thought that I was a lesbian and would taunt me about it. At one point in the dream, I was hanging onto the stair-rail for dear life, and I wanted to ask someone to help me up, but the only ones around were two popular girls who laughed and said, "The lesbian can't get up the stairs!" Later on, two teachers (who were bizarrely Russian with big beards) took me into a classroom to chat with me and told me that I ought to correct people on the lesbian issue. I replied, "Oh, bollocks to that." (Because, really, I was more concerned about the fact that my sister was dead and that veganism was killing me.) They laughed delightedly, and told me that I would get on fine in life.

See? Strange stuff! I am always intrigued as to what Freud would say about me, despite the fact that I believe his dream theories are tosh. But, y'know, I sometimes do wonder what dreams are telling us.

Oh, and by the way- my aunt came to stay this week and told me that I really need more calcium! Aaargh!

But anyway, I saved the best dream 'til last, because it's about the lovely Morrissey:

We were at a showbiz party (fuck knows what I was doing there!), and Morrissey was very drunk. Yes, very drunk indeed. He was sprawled across a table, and (I'm kind of ashamed to say this) I sort of...pinned him down...and kissed him.

But the worst thing was: not only did he NOT want me, I knew that he DID want my mum! Nooooooooo!

I still managed to wake up feeling quite triumphant, because I kissed Morrissey! (Yeah, I know, not in real life. But I'm trying to forget that fact.)

Dear God, please help me- will I ever have a Morrissey dream that doesn't involve rejection?!