Again, it made sense at the time

So, last night, I had a weird dream.

I jetted off to Russia, for some arbitrary reason. I ended up being in one building for the whole trip, answering music trivia questions. The questions were in English. In fact, so was everything else. The only thing that indicated that it was Russia was that I could see snow outside, which doesn't happen very often in good old Melbourne.

So yeah, I arrived in the morning (having left Melbourne that same morning). After spending the aforementioned few hours there, I left that evening and arrived in the afternoon of the same day (told you it was weird).

At Melbourne Central.

There, I saw Dr Dre. And I was all like, "OMG, it's Dr Dre!!!"

And then James Cheng appeared. And so did Andrew Chen, who was working at the cafe, the wall of which Dre was leaning on.

There is no underlying meaning to this dream. Or, at least, that's what I tell myself. It just seems to be an amalgamation of a few, seemingly fleeting, irrelevant, trivial thoughts that I don't even remember thinking. All in all, a pretty good dream to have. A good way to keep me occupied during my sleep.

Word of the Day: Amalgamation

Being strange makes us unique. But still strange.

I have been known to ask strange questions now and again. Hell, I've been accused of being strange more times than I can count. Most of the time with good reason. But something happened today that, while not the weirdest thing that has happened to me ever, was definitely up there. Possibly in the top 5.

Ok, so there's this girl in my French tute ("Ha, of course they're weird then," I hear you say, "they're Arts students." And to that I reply, "Ha. Ha. Ha." Even though you have a very valid point) who's very cute. Cute, as in she behaves like, and has the mannerisms of, a 10-year-old girl. Today, she asked me for a pencil. But it had to be a sharp one, not a blunt one.

You probably think that's the extent of the weirdness. Like, just sharpen it, right?

No. The strange part follows below.

I go, "Is a pacer alright?"

And the girl (her name is Annie) replies: "A what?"

Of course, as a defence mechanism, I bust out my semi-sarcasm. "Pacer. You know. Mechanical pencil." And to illustrate my point, I wave it in front of her face. And Annie, being totally serious, goes "Oh, that's what you meant. Yeah. That'll do. But what did you call it?"

"A pacer."

"Oh. Right." She gives me a strange looks, then starts writing whatever she intended on writing with my pacer in the first place. But the funniest thing was that Liz, another girl (they make up about 80% of Arts subjects except for politics) in my French tute, saves me from looking like a socially-detached moron by saying to Annie "What do you call it then?"

"A tube with lead in it."

You probably think that Annie's a fob. She's not. She speaks flawless English. Sure, she's Russian, but not like, "I'm Yuri and I drink vodka" Russian. Like, I'm almost 100% sure she was born here. As I said, bizarre. If you don't think that whole exchange was weird, especially with the bonus of Liz backing me up, I'll re-enact it through role-play next time we meet.

Speaking of which, I ran into Tamara three times on Tuesday. Once was already like overload. Three times? What did I do to deserve this?

Only kidding Tamara. I actually love people stalking me. Please don't kill me.

Word of the Day: Weird